THIS BOOK
IS FROM
THE LIBRARY OF
Rev. James Leach
A SHADOW OF DANTE
SHADOW OF DANTE
Being an
TOWARDS STUDYING HIMSELF, HIS WORLD
AND HIS PILGRIMAGE
BY
MARIA FRANCESCA ROSSETTI
Se Dio ti asci, letter, prender frutto
Di ttta lezion
LONDON
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
AND NEW YORK : 15 EAST i6TH STREET
1894
[New and Cheaper Edition}
PCI
DEDICATED
TO THE BELOVED MEMORY
OF MY FATHER
CHAK KAGB
I. PREFATORY AND INTRODUCTORY .... i
II. DANTE'S UNIVERSE 9
III. DANTE'S LIFE-EXPERIENCE 18
IV. THE WOOD, AND THK APPARITION OF
VIRGIL 32
V. THE HELL
VI. DANTE'S PILGRIMAGE THROUGH HELL . .
VII. THE PURGATORY 107
VIII. DANTE'S PILGRIMAGE THROUGH PURGA-
TORY .... 121
IX. THE GARDEN OF EDEN, AND THE DESCENT
OF BEATRICE 183
X. THE PARADISE 201
XI. DANTE'S PILGRIMAGE THROUGH PARADISE 207
he
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Xante's portrait 65 ©totto, anU fjts
(Drawn by H. T. DUNN.)
HOSE of IfjE BUssEtf
. . Frontispiece,
to face page 9
43
„ 107
201
/RANSLATION OF THE LEGEND OF THE FRONTISPIECE
The body within which I cast a shadow.
PUR. in. 26.
TRANSLATION OF THE MOTTO OF THE TITLE-PAGE,
So may God let thee, Reader, gather fruit
From this thy reading.
INF. xx. 19, 20.
CHAPTER I.
PREFATORY AND INTRODUCTORY.
Dunque che e ? perche, perche ristai ?
What is 't then ? wherefore, wherefore hold'st thou back ?
Inf. ii. 121.
DANTE is a name unlimited in place and period. Not
Italy, but the Universe, is his birthplace ; not the
fourteenth century, but all Time, is his epoch. He rises
before us and above us like the Pyramids — awful, massive,
solitary ; the embodiment of the character, the realization
of the science, of his clime and day ; yet the outcome of a
far wider past, the standard of a far wider future. Like the
Pyramids, again, he is known to all by name and by pic-
torial representation; must we not add, like them un-
known to most by actual sight and presence ? Who among
us has indeed experienced the soul-subduing hush of his
solemnity ? who beheld all average heights dwarfed by his
sublimity 1
Even of his fellow-linguists how many have read his great
poem through 1 One of themselves has said it — few have
gone beyond the Inferno ; nay, most have stopped short at
two passages of the Inferno — Francesco, da Rimini and U
Conte Ugolino, And of his fellow-cosmopolitans how many
General ignorance of Dante .
have read even so much ? If in cultivated society we start
him as a topic of conversation, how far is our interlocutor
likely to sympathize with our vivid interest ? How many
young people could we name as having read Dante as a
part of their education ?
Yet the Divina Commedia has been translated, especially
of late years, again and again : copiously treated of by
authors of European reputation. The few pore over such
works ; but what of the many ? They have probably
glanced through Gustave Dord's illustrations ; but as to the
poem itself, even those who have learned Italian look upon
Dante in his native tongue as too far above their attain-
ments : those who have not never think of making such
acquaintance with him as is possible in their own language;
while the glosses of commentators are usually bound up
with the text, and are at any rate too closely connected
with it to be available as independent outlines, even did
they not often take for granted in the reader a certain
amount of preliminary knowledge and interest. And so it
comes to pass that in England comparatively few among
cultivated and intellectual people have a thorough and en-
joying knowledge of one of the greatest works of man.
As to those who are sufficiently Italian scholars to read
Tasso with ease and pleasure, they are simply under a mis-
apprehension in supposing themselves incompetent to pass
on to Dante. They would understand him very well with
notes ; and even highly-educated Italians would not always
understand him without. The case is much like that of
Shakspeare — Englishmen are disputing to this day as to the
meaning of many of his utterances, and so are Italians as
to the meaning of Dante. For his difficulties, confessedly
his peculiarities and difficulties.
great, are of a kind to meet the reader scarcely less in a
good translation than in the original. At their very head we
must place one of his chief perfections : — conciseness sucfr
that a word often requires expansion into a clause, a clause
into a sentence, which may yet fail of being understood till
amplified into an expository paragraph. Nay, his style is
more than concise : it is elliptical — it is recondite. A first
thought often lies coiled up and hidden under a second ;
the words which state the conclusion involve the premises
and develop the subject. The abstract disquisitions with
which the poem abounds afford the principal, though by
no means the sole, field for the exercise of this marvellous
gift of recondite expression. A reader — could such be
found — equal in knowledge to the poet himself, might still
fail to recognise at a glance each inhabitant of his populous
universe, and to solve at a thought each allusive quasi-
enigma embodying the fictions of mythology, and the truths
of science according to the highest attainments of the
period. Astronomy becomes especially perplexing in his
hands ; the dates of the poem, both as to hour and season,
being hinted in descriptions of the position of the heavenly
bodies, pretty sure to darken the reader's perceptions but
for the friendly aid of the commentator, whose elaborate
notes usually culminate in the one necessary and often
only intelligible fact : ' It was the vernal equinox ; ' ' It
was noon, sunset/ etc.
Another of Dante's characteristics is ambiguity — an am-
biguity, however, not hazy, but prismatic, and therefore
not really perplexing. Why refuse to discern a double
truth under a single word-presentment in such a passage as
tiie following 1
Subjects treated of by Dante.
' I will be thy guide,
And bring thee hence by an eternal place ;
Where thou shalt hearken the despairing shrieks,
Shalt see the ancient Spirits dolorous,
That each one outcries for the second death.'
Inf. i. 113-117
The last line may signify either ' Each cries out on account
of the second death which he is suffering,' or ' Each cries out
for death to come a second time and ease him of his suffer-
ings.' Both significations being true, why should we nar-
row our inheritance by rejecting one ?
Such, then, is frequently the style in which Dante deals
with a range of subject wellnigh encyclopaedic. He seems
to have familiarly known everything that could be learned,
and to have watched with closest attention the men and
the politics of his day. Are we of those who, deeply and
intelligently interested in the past, love in every period to
dive below the surface, and welcome as peculiarly precious
every ray of contemporary light thrown on persons and
events ? Dante is a focus of such rays : bask we in them,
and we shall know what at the end of the thirteenth and
the beginning of the fourteenth century — among the
most intellectual people of the West — were the highest
attainments of the highest minds in physical science ; what
natural and moral problems received an astrological solution;
what judgment was passed at the time, or soon afterwards,
on such personages as Frederick n. of Germany, Philippe
le Bel, Charles of Anjou ; what was the character of the
petty Italian States and princes of the period ; what man-
ners and customs prevailed; what corruptions revolted
dignified and pious souls ; how nearly on the same level of
Plan of this Work.
reality mediaeval habits of thought and study placed historic
fact and classic fable ; what were the speculations of philo-
sophers, what the contemplations of theologians, what the
general tone of moral and religious thought in those who by
reason of use had their senses exercised to discern both
good and evil.
But great as is the profit derived by the mind from the
study of the Commedia, greater, far greater, is the profit
accruing to the soul which, through the medium of that
chain of visions wherein Dante's colossal intellect has
embodied its conceptions, contemplates truths the most
momentous, spiritual, and ennobling that can engage the
thoughts of man.
Any acquaintance with a work so sublime must needs
be better than none. A shadow may win the gaze of some
who never looked upon the substance, never tasted the
entrancement of this Poet's music, never entered into the
depths of this Philosopher's cogitations. My plan is very
simple. After in some degree setting forth what Dante's
Universe is as a whole, and what autobiography and history
show his life-experience to have been, I proceed to expound
in greater detail — here and there unavoidably with slight
repetition — the physical and moral theories on which his
Three Worlds are constructed ; and to narrate, now in his
own words, now in a prose summary, the course of his
stupendous pilgrimage. As in this narration my objects
are mainly to carry on his autobiography, to study his
character, to be spiritualized by his spirit and upborne on
his wings — also, though subordinately, to exemplify his
treatment of the subjects above enumerated, — the extracts
are such as seem to me best suited to promote these ends ;
6 Liter ality of translation.
the episodes being usually passed over. I use two line-for-
line blank verse translations, of the degrees of whose force and
beauty the reader will be able to judge : my brother W. M.
Rossetti's for the Inferno, Mr. Longfellow's for the Purgatorio
and Paradiso, retaining in each case any typographical pecu-
liarity. Difficulties are explained in the text or in footnotes :
these last, when taken verbatim from the Translators, are
distinguished by inverted commas ; and where a passage ol
any length is paraphrased, the reference at the beginning
is repeated at the end. Not without regret, I sacrifice to
faithful literality the pleasure of making readers ignorant of
Italian acquainted with the exquisite ternary rhyme of the
Commedia, so ably preserved in the translations by Mr.
Cayley, the Rev. John Dayman, and the Rev. Prebendary
Ford. The like faithful literality will be found to charac-
terize my own rendering of passages from Dante's prose
works ; the blemish, as it would now by many be considered,
of frequent tautology being by no means avoided. The
principle of translation should, I think, be one thing, when
an author and a style unique and immortal are to be
set in living truth before living eyes ; quite another thing
when minds merely need to be enabled profitably and
pleasurably to assimilate thoughts generated and originally
expressed, it may even be with no distinctive force or grace,
in a tongue not their own. Whether the tautology of classic
Greece and mediaeval Italy be in truth a blemish at all, is
a question foreign to my present purpose.
Where commentators differ, especially on minor points,
I frequently adopt without discussion that view which
most commends itself to my own mind. And in any slight
hints, whether original or not, on the interpretation of the
Obligations acknowledged.
poem, the one charge I would earnestly deprecate is that
of exclusiveness. It is scarcely less difficult to determine
what is not, than what is, in Dante. The prismatic charac-
ter before noticed in particular passages belongs still more
to his marvellous work as a whole, and according to each
one's tone of mind and groove of thought will be, to a great
extent, the contemplations based upon it. A second Dante
alone could confidently exclude any sense not intrinsically
unworthy of the first.
It only remains to acknowledge my obligations, among
Italian commentators, to my late dear Father, to Professor
Ferrazzi, and to Signer Fraticelli, whose excellent diagrams
have supplied the designs, though not the whole of the
letterpress, for three of my own : — among English commen-
tators to Mr. Cayley, and to Professor Longfellow both for
the information gathered from his notes, and for his most
kind welcome to the use of his eminently faithful and
beautiful translation.
THE UNIVERSE.
THE ANGELIC CIRCLES.
^^O^-^M^
(To face Chap. II.)
CHAPTER II.
DANTE'S UNIVERSE.
Mi mise dentro alle segrete cose.
He ushered me within the secret things.
Inf. in. 21.
TO one unacquainted with the Ptolemaic system, and
unprovided with suitable maps, the Dantesque cos-
mology presents difficulties almost as insuperable as those
geography would offer to a child destitute of an atlas. The
scheme of the Universe has to be picked out here and
there throughout the poem ; and I propose in this chapter
to present my reader with a preliminary bird's-eye view of
that world through which we are about to become fellow-
pilgrims with the Poet.
The central point of Dante's Universe is that central
point of the Earth which constitutes the centre of gravity.
Hither with Dante we descend through the Pit of Hell ;
hence painfully threading our way through the bowels of
Earth's opposite hemisphere, emerge on the shore of the
single island dotting the vast Ocean ; climb with toil the
Mountain of Purgatory, situate within the Spheres of Air and
Fire, and from the Terrestrial Paradise on its summit ascend
through the Nine Heavens : traversing thus all the realms
of Time and Space till we attain our final rest in the all-
containing, uncontained, timeless, spaceless Empyrean. So
io The two elemental hemispheres.
marvellous in conception, so perfect in order, so dazzling
in glory, is the Universe unfolded to our view. We proceed
to consider it in detail.
Dante divides our globe into two elemental hemispheres :
the Eastern, chiefly of land ; the Western, almost wholly
of water. In the midst of the inhabited Land-hemisphere
he places Jerusalem ; within the same hemisphere, so that
its central and Hell's lowest point is exactly under Jeru-
salem, he places Hell ; in the midst of the uninhabited Sea-
hemisphere he places Purgatory, as the antipodes to Jeru-
salem, distant from it by the whole diameter of the globe.
Thus on and within the Earth are situated the temporal and
the eternal prison-house of sin. Neither, in Dante's view,
formed part of God's original creation, wherein sin was not ;
but the fall of Lucifer at once produced the one and pre-
pared the other, convulsing and inverting the world which
God had made. The rebel Seraph fell headlong from
Heaven directly above the Western hemisphere, till then a
continent, in whose midst was Eden; and Earth, in the
twofold horror of his sight and presence, underwent a two-
fold change. First, to veil her face, she brought in upon
herself the vast floods of the Eastern Sea-hemisphere, trans-
ferring to their place all her dry land, save Eden, which
thus was left insulated in mid-Ocean. And secondly, to
escape his contact, as he sank and sank through her sur-
face, through her bowels, till the middle of his colossal
frame, having reached the centre of gravity, remained there
fixed from the sheer physical impossibility of sinking any
lower, she caused a vast mass of her internal substance to
flee before his face ; and leaving eternally void the space it
once had occupied to form the inverted pit-cone of Heli,
The elemental Spheres. The Heavens. 1 1
she heaved it up directly under Eden, amid the new waste
of waters, to form the towering mountain-cone on whose
peak the Terrestrial Paradise should thenceforth to the end
of Time sit far above all elemental strife, and whose sides
should, after the Redemption of Man, furnish the Purgatorial
stair whereby his foot might aspire once more to tread, his
eye to contemplate, his regained inheritance.
Thus two Elements, Earth and Water, hemispherically
divided, constitute the Sphere which forms the innermost
and immoveable kernel of the Dantesque Universe. It is
enveloped by the Sphere of Air, subject to the variations of
heat and cold, rain and drought, wind and tempest, and
reaching up to that particular point of the Western Mountain
where Ante-Purgatory ends, and the Gate of S. Peter admits
holy but still imperfect souls to Purgatory proper, which
being situated within the Sphere of Fire or ^Ether, is secure
from atmospheric change.
Beyond this highest elemental region lie the Nine
Heavens, each alike a hollow revolving sphere, enclosing
and enclosed. The First Heaven is of the Moon, the Second
of Mercury, the Third of Venus, the Fourth of the Sun (in
Dante's time regarded as a planet), the Fifth of Mars, the
Sixth of Jupiter, the Seventh of Saturn, the Eighth of the
Fixed Stars ; the Ninth is the Starless Crystalline Heaven or
Primum Mobile, which, itself the most rapid of all in its
revolutions, is the root of Time and Change throughout
Creation, and the source and measure of the gradually
slackening movement of all the Heavens within it. Without
it is the Tenth Heaven, the motionless boundless Empyrean,
the special dwelling-place of the Most High God, and the
eternal home of His Saints. These, arranged in the form
12 The Nine Angelic Orders.
of a Rose, surround a vast effulgent Lake, formed by a
reflection of the Uncreated Light on the convex summit of
the Primum Mobile, and so placed that a right line drawn
downwards from its centre to our globe would touch that
earthly Jerusalem, whose bud has so wondrously blossomed
into this Jerusalem which is above.
Such is the construction of the Dantesque Universe. But
the scheme of natural and moral philosophy set forth in the
Divina Commedia includes so complete and complicated a
theory of Astrology as bound up with Cosmology and with
the action of the Angelic Orders, that I must, even at the
risk of tediousness, endeavour to give my reader some
insight into the subject.
Around the Divine Essence, manifested in the Primum
Mobile as a luminous Atomic Point, circle evermore the
Nine Orders of Angels, divided into Three Hierarchies. The
first and innermost hierarchy consists of the Seraphim, the
Cherubim, the Thrones ; the second of the Dominations,
the Virtues, the Powers ; the third of the Principalities, the
Archangels, the Angels. The celestial hosts thus dis-
posed are at once passive and active. All alike, gazing on
the Divine Centre, are passively drawn by It, — the Seraphim
immediately, the Cherubim through the medium of the
Seraphim, the Thrones through that of the Cherubim, and so
on, each Order through that next above it. And all alike,
as is self-evident, actively draw towards that -same Centre,
each the Order next below it, till finally the Angels, having
none lower of their own nature to draw, draw mankind.
This chain of attraction is, as I conceive, wholly moral. A
second chain of influence is partly moral and partly material.
Each Angelic Order moves the Heaven inversely corre-
The Movers and the Moved. 1 3
spending to it ; the Seraphim as the First Order move the
Ninth Heaven, the Cherubim as the Second Order move the
Eighth Heaven, and so on in succession through all the
Nine. But in the mutual relations between the Circles
moving and the Circles moved, while velocity corresponds
to velocity, not extension but intensity corresponds to ex-
tension. For two are the centres : God Uncreated, Infinite,
Highest ; Earth created, finite, lowest. Earth is the centre
of the Heavens; — proximity to the Earth-centre implies
contraction of circuit and slackness of motion ; recession
from the Earth-centre is proportionate approximation to the
manifested Deity, and therefore implies expansion of circuit
and acceleration of motion. But the centre of the Angels
is God Most High, proximity to Whom implies the utmost
perfection whereof the creature is capable. And as, from
the very nature of concentric circles, such perfection cannot
in this case be expressed by greater extension of circuit, it
is expressed by intensity of radiance, and by a velocity of
motion which decreases here for precisely the same reason
that in the case of the Heavens it increases with expansion
of circuit, i.e., that such expansion here implies recession
from the Divine Centre and approximation to Earth.
The Universe, thus constructed and governed, presents a
marvellous threefold gradation and order : — in highest place
pure Form or Mind wholly active, the Nine Angelic Choirs
moving the Heavens and not moved ; in middle place
Form conjoined with Matter both active and passive, the
Nine Heavens moved by the Angels and moving the Ele-
ments ; in lowest place pure Matter wholly passive, the Four
Elements moved by the Heavens and not moving.
All creatures are immediately or mediately emanations of
1 4 Creatures perfect and imperfect.
the Mind and Will of God, and impressed with His Light
Such as immediately proceed from Him are perfectly en-
lightened, immortal, incorruptible, and free, as not subject
to powers which had no share in their formation. To this
perfect class belong not only the Angels as pure Mind, but
Man as Mind combined with Matter formed as well as
created by the hand of God Himself, so that nought save
his own abuse of his free-will could have disfranchised him
of his original nobility, and even in his fallen estate the
Heavens, however they may influence his inclinations, can-
not force his choice. But the Elements and the things
thereof compounded, as brute beasts and vegetables, though
their matter was of course created immediately by the
Almighty, according to this hypothesis derive their light,
together with their form or animating principle, through the
interposition and influence of the Heavens, and are in con-
sequence imperfectly enlightened, mortal, corruptible, and
bond ; albeit Divine Providence, infusing the celestial vir-
tues of informing and of ruling, infuses also those of pre-
serving and sustaining the dependent and subject elemental
creatures.
Manifold are the philosophic questions in whose answer
these theories will be found more or less involved.
A few notes respecting time are needed in conclusion.
Dante, in accordance with S. Thomas Aquinas, but not
with S. Jerome, makes the creation of the Angels simul-
taneous with'that of the Universe : appealing for confirmation
to many passages of Holy Scripture — probably, among
others, to that adduced on this subject by the Fathers, ' He
that liveth eternally created all things together'1 — and also
1 Ecclus. xviii. I.
Notes respecting time. 1 5
to Reason, which cannot allow the Movers to have long
remained without their perfection, *>., without aught to
move. The Fall of the rebel Angels he considers to have
taken place within twenty seconds of their creation, and to
have originated in the pride which made Lucifer unwilling
to await the time prefixed by his Maker for enlightening
him with perfect knowledge.
The creation of Man would seem, in this system, to have
been subsequent to the upheaval of Paradise ; his expulsion
thence was effected seven hours after his location there.
At what time, and by what means, the dwelling of our
first parents or of their posterity was transferred to the
Eastern continent, Dante, so far as I know, leaves untold.1
One only instance previous to his own pilgrimage does he
imagine in which, after this transference, the eye of living
man rested on the Western Island-Mountain. With this
singularly beautiful narrative I close the present chapter :
the speaker is Ulysses, suffering in Hell as an evil coun-
sellor.
'When
From Circe I departed, who beyond
A year withdrew me near Gaeta there,
Before ^neas so had named the place,2
Neither son's sweetness, nor the suffering
1 The following curious theory has been conversationally suggested.
The Pit of Hell being vast enough to harbour so large a number out of
all generations of mankind, the Western Mountain, consisting, of the
earth thrown up from that pit, is necessarily of the same proportions,
and may have sufficed for the dwelling of the entire race until the
Deluge, after which event the Ark was providentially guided to deposit
its freight on Mount Ararat in the Eastern hemisphere.
8 ' Gaeta, the ancient Cajeta, is said to have been so named by /Eneas
after his nurse, who died there. '
1 6 The transit to the Western hemisphere.
Of mine old father, nor the love so due
Which ought to have made glad Penelope,
Could quell in me the ardour which I had
For growing to be expert of the world,
And of the worthiness and vice of men.
But I set off on the high open sea
With one ship only, and that little band
By which I had not been deserted yet.
I saw one shore and other far as Spain,
Far as Morocco, and the isle o' the Sards,
And others which that sea bathes roundabout.
I and my fellows we were old and slow
When we had come unto the narrow pass
Where Hercules has stamped his cautionings
That man should so proceed no further on :
On my right left I Seville ; I had left
Already Ceuta on my other hand.
" O brothers," said I, " ye that are arrived
Through hundred-thousand dangers to the West,-
Unto this now so little waking-time
Which is remaining of your senses still
Endure not to deny the experience
Of the unpeopled world behind the sun.
Consider what is your original :
Ye were not made that ye should live like beasts,
But follow after virtue and the truth."
I with this brief oration so did make
My comrades eager for the journeying
I scarce could have retained them afterwards.
And, having turned our poop into the morn,
We made the oars wings to the maddened flight,
Toward the left hand gaining evermore.
I saw by night already all the stars
Within the other pole, and ours so low
Arrival in the Western hemisphere. 1 7
It rose not forth from the marine expanse.
Five times re-kindled and as many razed
Had been the light from underneath the moon
Since we had entered in the lofty pass,
When a brown mountain there appeared to us
Upon the distance, and to me it seemed
So lofty as I had not witnessed one.
We were rejoiced,— and soon it turned to dole ;
For there was born a whirlwind from the new
Country, and struck the fore-side of the ship.
With all its waters thrice it made her wheel ;
The poop rise at the fourth time uppermore,
The prow go down, as pleased Another One,
Till over us again the sea was closed.'
Inf. xxvi. 90-142.
CHAPTER III.
DANTE'S LIFE-EXPERIENCE.
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita.
In midway of the journey of our life.
Inf. I. i.
LET us now inquire what he was, who, born, as he be-
lieved, into an universe in the main so constructed
and so governed, lived in it fifty-six years, and departed not
till he had tracked a path to aid future generations safely
to work their way from its lowest to its highest sphere : —
what she was, at whose prompting he began, by whose
guidance he completed the pilgrimage wherein he gained
his own experience of that path. Not that this latter inquiry
can be answered as confidently as the former. The
Beatrice of Dante remains to this day the perplexity of
scholars and of commentators, some regarding her as a
personage from first to last purely allegorical. I adopt the
view of Boccaccio and the majority.
Dante Allighieri was born at Florence in May 1265, of
a noble family adhering to the Guelph party. When nearly
nine years old he was taken by his father to a festival held
at the house of Folco Portinari. He there beheld his host's
daughter ; and this first great event of his conscious life,
colouring all its after course, he himself thus narrates :
* Nine times already since my birth had the Heaven of
Dante's first sight of Beatrice. \ 9
Light1 returned almost to the same point in respect of its
own gyration, when there first appeared to my eyes the
glorious Lady of my mind : who was called Beatrice by
many who knew not what she was called. She had already
been so long in this life as that, within her time, the Starry
Heaven had moved towards the eastern part one of the
twelve parts of a degree : so that almost at the beginning
of her ninth year she appeared to me, and I saw her almost
at th£ end of my ninth year. And she appeared to me
clothed in a most noble colour, a subdued and decorous
crimson ; girdled and adorned in such wise as was suitable
to her most youthful age. . . . I say that thenceforward Love
swayed my soul, which was even then espoused to him ; and
began to assume over me so great and so assured a lord-
ship, empowered thereto in virtue of my imagination, that
I must needs perform to the full all his pleasures. He
oftentimes commanded me to seek to behold this youngest
Angel ; wherefore I in my boyhood many times sought her
out, and saw her so noble and laudable in bearing, that
certes of her might be spoken that word of the poet Homer :
She appeared not to be made by any mortal man, but by
God. And albeit her image, which abode with me continu-
ally, were the triumphant strength of Love to sway me ; yet
was it of so exceeding noble virtue, that it did at no time
suffer Love to rule me without the faithful counsel of Reason
in those things wherein such counsel was useful to be heard.' 2
At ten years old he lost his father ; but this did not inter-
rupt the course of his most careful and liberal education.
Before he was quite eighteen he wrote his first sonnet, in-
spired by an incident which he thus records :
1 i.e. the Heaven of the Sun, or Fourth Heaven.
2 Vita Niiova ii.
C
ao Beatrice salutes Dante. Her marriage.
'When so many days had passed as exactly completed
nine years from the above-written appearance of this most
gracious creature, on the last of the days it happened that
this marvellous lady appeared to me, clothed in purest
white, between two gentle ladies, who were, more advanced
in age ; and passing through a street she turned her eyes
towards the place where I stood greatly abashed, and. of
her ineffable courtesy whose merit is now recompensed in
the other world, she saluted me so virtuously that I seemed
then to behold the utmost limits of beatitude. The hour
wherein her sweetest salutation reached me was assuredly
the ninth of that day ; and whereas that was the first time
that her words went forth to come to my ears, I sucked
in such sweetness that as one inebriated I departed from
the people.' '
There is no reason to believe that Dante ever sought
Beatrice in marriage, nor any distinct indication that she so
much as knew of the pure, lofty, ideal love she had inspired.
The very early age at which Florentine fathers affianced
their daughters makes it not impossible that even before
her ninth year she was engaged to that Simon de' Bardi
whose wife, at the age of twenty, she became. Dante never
alludes to her marriage, though he thus touchingly records
her father's death in 1288, and his own sympathy in her
grief — a sympathy doubtless all the deeper from his per-
sonal experience of the like irreparable loss, and further
quickened by the virtues of the dead, whose last years had
been hallowed by the building and opening of a hospital
somewhat strangely characterized at the time as * the column
of the state.' ~
i Vila Nuova iii. 2 Ferrazzi, Manuale Dantesco, vol. ii. pp. 21, 22.
Death of Folco Portinari and of Beatrice. 2 1
1 ... As it pleased that Glorious Lord, Who denied not
death to Himself, he who had been the father of so great a
marvel as was manifestly this most noble Beatrice, going
forth of this life departed in very truth to eternal glory.
Wherefore, inasmuch as such parting is painful to those
that remain, and have been friends of him that departeth ;
and no friendship is there so intimate as that of a good
father for a good child, or of a good child for a good father ;
and this lady was good in the highest degree, and her
father (as is by many believed, and as is true) was good in
a high degree, it is manifest that this lady was most bitterly
full of grief.'1
But ere very long he who had mourned with her was called
to mourn yet more sorely for her : first in prophetic vision of
her death-chamber, then in agonizing reality. In 1290, at
the age of twenty-four, Beatrice died.
' The Lord of this most gracious creature, that is the
Lord of Justice, called this noble being to the life of glory
under the standard of that blessed queen Mary, whose
name was in greatest reverence in the words of this beati-
fied Beatrice.' 2
He proceeds to relate various incidents, taking place as it
would seem within the two years and a half following her
death : the most prominent of these is his strong temporary
attraction towards an unnamed lady descried gazing at him
through a window, and touching his feelings first by her
evident sympathy in his grief, afterwards by her personal
qualities. And here meets us one of the most intricate
of Dantesque perplexities. In the Vita Nuova8 he charac-
terizes this attraction or propensity as the 'adversary of
Reason,' describes it as beset even while it lasted with mis-
1 Vita Nuova xxii. a Ib. xxix. • It. xl.
2 2 Dante seeks consolation in Philosophy.
givings and struggles, and relates how it was finally subdued
by a ' strong imagination ' of Beatrice, in guise like to that
wherein he had first beheld her, a child in her ninth year
habited in crimson. Yet in the Convito, in language whose
directness it seems impossible to evade, he declares the
lady of whom he became enamoured after his first love, and
who by a previous passage a is identified with the ' lady of
the window/ to have been 'the most beautiful and most
noble daughter of the Emperor of the Universe, to whom
Pythagoras gave the name of Philosophy.' 2 In most
touching words he relates how Philosophy became his con-
solation : ' I say that as by me was lost the first delight of
my soul, of whom mention is made above, I remained
pierced with such sadness that no comfort availed me.
Nevertheless, after a while my mind, which sought out how
to be healed, bethought itself (since neither my own nor
others' consoling availed) to recur to the mode whereby
some mourner had aforetime found consolation. And I
set myself to read that book, not known to many, of
Boethius, wherein he, captive and downfallen, had consoled
himself. And hearing also that Tullius had written another
book, wherein, treating of friendship, he had spoken by the
way of the consolation of Laelius, a man most excellent,
concerning the death of Scipio his friend, I set myself to
read that. And though it were hard to me at first to enter
into their purport, at length I entered as far within it as the
art of grammar which I possessed and a little of my intellect
could do; by which intellect many things, as in a dream, I
saw already ; as in the Vita Nuova may be seen. And as
it often falls out that a man goes in search of silver, and
1 Conv. ii. 2. z Ib. ii. 1 6.
The Lady of the Window is Philosophy. 23
beyond his intent finds gold which some hidden cause
points out, not perhaps without divine overruling ; I, who
sought to console me, found not only a remedy for my tears,
but words of authors and of science and of books ; which
considering, I assuredly judged that Philosophy, who was
the lady of these authors, of these sciences, and of these
books, was a thing exceeding high. And I imagined her in
form like unto a noble lady ; nor could I imagine her in any
attitude save one of commiseration ; wherefore so fain was
the sense in truth to gaze upon her, that scarcely could I
turn it aside from her. And passing beyond this imagining
I began to go where she showed herself in very truth, that
is, into the schools of the Religious, and to the disputations
of philosophers ; so that in brief space, perhaps of thirty
months, I began to feel so much of her sweetness, that her
love expelled and destroyed every other thought.' *
How is so astounding a discrepancy to be accounted
for 1 How -could such a propensity as this be the adversary
of Reason ] or the ' strong imagination ' of Beatrice, for
whom her lover's affection, even in childhood and earliest
youth, had never been without the counsel of Reason, have
the effect of subduing such a propensity ? I would observe
first, that we have not the whole of the Convito ; fourteen
Canzoni with their comment were planned by Dante,2 three
only, alas ! were written ; and of course it is possible that
the mystery was to be cleared up as the work proceeded.
Secondly, with very great diffidence I venture to hint at a
solution which seems to me not inconsistent with either of
the conflicting statements, nor yet with this additional start-
ling fact — that in the Com media Beatrice is herself invested
1 Conv. ii. 13. a Ib. i. I.
24 Argument respecting Lady of the Window.
with the attributes of that wisdom which is asserted in the
Convito to be the body of Philosophy.1 It appears, then,
that the effect of this philosophic propensity was so to en-
gross Dante's mind as actually and increasingly to supersede
the thought of his lost treasure,8 and the at first prominent
consolation of dwelling on her celestial bliss.* It appears
also, from certain passages of the Purgatorio hereafter to be
read in their proper place,4 that this period of his life was
one of more or less sensual gratification and earthly aim.
Hence it seems natural to infer that his Philosophy was at
this stage of a theoretical rather than of a practical cha-
racter ; and if so, in a most true though limited sense might
it be termed the adversary of Reason, as all will testify who
have experienced the lulling spell of an intellectual and
sensitive delight in good running parallel with a voluntary
and actual indulgence in evil. May it not be that after
many alternations of struggling and succumbing despite his
better self and his sage maxims, a most vivid sense of pollu-
tion and of peril, aided by a sudden strong imagination of
Beatrice, came upon him ; and that as entranced he gazed
on her glorified loveliness he instinctively identified with
her his Philosophy already transfigured, potent not only
now to charm and soothe, potent to rule ; to the Intellect
a light, to the Affections a compass and a balance, a sceptre
over the Will 1 From the moment of this inward impression
we notice that no more is heard of the lady of the window,
who seems thus to occupy in the Vita Nuova a position
somewhat analogous to that of Virgil in the Comrnedia : she
representing the speculative pleasures and consolations, he
1 Conv. iii. 15. * Vita Nuova xxxviii, xxxix. ' Cotw. ii. 10.
* Pur. xxiii. 115-118, xxx. 55-144, xxxi. 1-90.
Conclusion of Vita Niiova. Dante marries. 2 5
• »
the moral laws and suasions of Philosophy. He too will in
turn vanish from before the face of Beatrice, not as counter-
acted, but as included and transcended; her presence
waited on no less by his human than by her own super-
human Virtues. Thus in her one person are finally con-
centrated all nobleness, all beauty, and all rectitude of
Nature and of Grace.
Whether or not this theory can be sustained, it is certain
that in renewed and perpetual allegiance to his First-Beloved
he signs and seals his Vita Nuova :
* ... There appeared to me a marvellous vision wherein
I saw things, which made me resolve to say no more of
this blessed one until I could more worthily treat of her.
And to come to this I study as much as I can, as she
knows in truth. So that, if it shall be the pleasure of Him
by Whom all things live that my life shall last somewhat
longer, I hope to say of her that which has never been said
of any. And may it then please Him, Who is the Lord of
courtesy, that my soul may go to behold the glory of its
lady, that is, that blessed Beatrice who gloriously gazes on
the face of Him who is blessed throughout all ages.
PRAISE TO GOD.'1
In 1291 Dante was persuaded by his friends to espouse
Gemma Donati. She bore him seven children before his
exile ; after it he never saw her again.
So far his private life ; during which, by profound and
extensive studies both in Divine and human science, by the
exercise of all graceful arts and accomplishments, and by
the teaching of inward experience, he was forming and
deepening the character afterwards to be manifested in
public life.
1 Vita ATuova xliii.
26 Origin of Gitelpks and Ghibellines.
«
Public life at that period throughout Italy, and especially
in Florence, to all who took a prominent and energetic
part, was thorny indeed. The main distinction was that
between Ghibellines and Guelphs— two names in their ori-
gin far removed from Italy. They were first heard in Ger-
many in 1140, when at Winsberg in Suabia a battle was
fought between two contending claimants of the Empire ;
the one, Conrad of Hohenstauffen, Duke of Franconia,
chose for his battle-cry Waiblingen, the name of his patri-
monial castle in Wiirtemburg ; the other, Henry the Lion,
Duke of Saxony, chose his own family name of Welf, or
Wolf. Conrad proved victorious, and his kindred to the
fourth ensuing generation occupied the imperial throne ;
yet both war-cries survived the contest which gave them
birth, lingering on in Germany as equivalents of Imperial-
ist and anti-Imperialist. By a process perfectly clear to
philologists, they were modified in Italy into the forms
Ghibellino and Guelfo ; and the Popes being there the
great opponents of the Emperors, an Italian Guelph was
a Papalist. The cities were mainly Guelph ; the nobles
most frequently Ghibelline.
A private feud had been the means of involving Florence
in the contest. In 1215 — just three quarters of a century
after the victory of Conrad— Buondelmonte de' Buondel-
monti, a young nobleman affianced to a maiden of the
Amidei, broke his troth and married one of the Donati.
The Amidei revenged themselves by his assassination. The
Emperor Frederick n., fourth of the House of Suabia, took
their part, and the feud once kindled burned on and
spread.
But — the Ghibelline party having been expelled from
Whiles and Blac&s. Dante a Priore. 27
Florence — this was not the discord with which Dante, on
his accession to office, would have to deal. The Guelph
party was split into two factions — the Black and the White,
also taking their rise in a private quarrel, originating towards
the end of the thirteenth century, not in Florence, but in
Pistoja. A rich merchant of that place, named Cancellieri,
had married in succession two wives, whose respective
children went by the names of Whites and Blacks ; names
which afforded a too convenient distinction when, in conse-
quence of a gambling dispute, their descendants became
involved in deadly feud. The Florentine family of the
Cerchi sided with the Whites, the Donati with the Blacks ;
hence multiplied dissensions, involving wellnigh the whole
city.
As early as in 1289 Dante had, at the battle of Campal-
dino and the siege of Caprona, borne arms as a Guelph in
civil war. In 1295 he became a member of the Special
Council of the Republic, consisting of eighty of the best
and most influential citizens, and in 1300, at the age of
thirty-five,
In midway of the journey of his life,
was elected one of the six Priori (chief magistrates of his city)
for the months of June and July. We shall see in the next
chapter what view he took of the moral state of Italy, and
especially of Florence, at the time of his election. Suffice
it here to say that during his brief tenure of office he
concurred with his colleagues in banishing to Sarzana the
heads of the White, to Perugia those of the Black faction.
But the following year the Whites were recalled by the
State ; the Blacks, breaking their ban, returned of them-
selves, and by intrigue secured, for the so-called pacifica-
28 Dante accused, condemned and banished.
tion of Florence, the intervention of Charles cle Valois
(brother of Philippe le Bel), then travelling towards Rome
In his way to the hoped-for conquest of Sicily. The wiser
members of the Government, seeing through the specious
scheme of the Blacks, sent Dante with three others on
an embassy to Pope Boniface vin., whose veto would
have nullified the transaction ; — but the prolonged delay in
obtaining that veto gave the supporters of the Pacificator
ample leisure so to treat Florence that, as historians agree,
less evil befalls a city taken by assault.
On the news of these oppressions reaching Rome, Dante
hurried homewards, but only to find his house pillaged and
burned, and himself accused of undue partiality to the
Whites both during and after his tenure of office. Sum-
moned to answer a charge of peculation, he was not even
allowed time to appear, but was in January 1302 con-
demned, as contumacious, to a heavy fine ; and finally, in
March, to perpetual banishment, under pain of being
burned alive should he again be found in his native city.
From this time forth, forsaking the Guelph party alto-
gether, Dante was a Ghibelline. One by one possibilities
of return seemed to arise ; one by one they failed. In March
1304, while he was at Arezzo, the recently-elected Pope
Benedict XL sent Cardinal da Prato on a pacific mission to
Florence, but the attempt was unsuccessful, and four
months later the ambassador quitted the city, laying it
under an interdict. In July of the same year a military
effort of the Poet's fellow-exiles proved most disastrous, and
he transferred his residence to Bologna. In 1312 took
place the celebrated Italian enterprise of the Emperor
Henry of Luxemburg, and Dante's hopes were excited to
the utmost : but yet again they were doomed to bitter
Dante rejects the amnesty. 29
disappointment by the sudden death of that illustrious
Prince.
In 1316 the State of Florence did indeed publish an am-
nesty from which Dante was not excepted, but his return
was made conditional on payment of a fine, and submission
to a public acknowledgment of criminality : and here is a
portion of his answer, conveyed in a Latin epistle to a
Religious, who seems to have been his kinsman : —
* Is this then the glorious fashion of Dante Allighieri's
recall to his country, after suffering exile for wellnigh three
lustres? Is this the due recompense of his innocence
manifest to all 1 This the fruit of his abundant sweat and
toil endured in study ? Far from the man of Philosophy's
household this baseness proper to a heart of mire, that he,
in the manner of any sciolist and other infamous person,
should endure as a prisoner to be put to ransom ! Far from
the Proclaimer of Justice that he, offended and insulted, to
his offenders, as to those who have deserved well of him,
should pay tribute ! This, Father, is not the way to return
to my country : but if by you or by another there can be
found another way that shall not derogate from Dante's
fame and honour, readily will I thereto betake myself. But
if by no honourable way can entrance be found into Flo-
rence, there will I never enter. What ? Can I not from any
corner of the earth behold the sun and the stars? Can I not
under every climate of heaven meditate the all-sweet truths,
except I first make myself a man of no glory, but rather of
ignominy in the face of the people and city of Florence ? '
Thus nobly and immoveably resolved, he never again
beheld his native land, but at one petty Ghibelline court
after another alternated between his own Sphere of Air and
Sphere of Fire. Bitter indeed was his experience of what
3O Dante dies in exile.
he so touchingly, by the mouth of his ancestor Cacciaguida,
describes as his coming fate :
Thou shalt abandon everything beloved
Most tenderly, and this the arrow is
Which first the bow of banishment shoots forth.
Thou shalt have proof how savoureth of salt
The bread of others, and how hard a road
The going down and up another's stairs.
And that which most shall weigh upon thy shoulders
Will be the bad and foolish company
With which into this valley thou shalt fall.
Par. XVII. 55-63.
And yet, when enraptured and enrapturing he uttered his
unearthly Commedia, he was as one already swallowed up
in Infinity and Eternity. Can these words, written as in
the Starry Heaven, mean less 1
The threshing-floor that maketh us so proud,
To me revolving with the eternal Twins,
Was all apparent made from hill to harbour !
Par. xxii. 151-153.
So Dante Allighieri lived, so suffered, and so wrought ;
till in 1321, at Ravenna, under the protection of Count
Guido Novello da Polenta, in his fifty-seventh year, by
means of a fever, he passed, we fervently hope, into the
full, final, and blessed realization of those things whereof,
for our endless good, he had so long and so earnestly
testified.
Dante dates his supernatural pilgrimage as taking place
A.D. 1300 ; his great poem must therefore be read as his-
toric in all events antecedent to that date, prophetic in all
subsequent. Yet, in fact, historic in all. The Vita Nuova,
the work as well as the record of early life, has the soft
Dante s youthful portrait ; his death-mask. 31
delicacy of Dante's youthful face portrayed by Giotto ; but
the Divina Commedia, whether professedly narrating the
past or the future, is throughout impressed with the
deeper, sterner, sadder lines to be traced in his solemn
death-mask.1
1 The authenticity of this death-mask was lately confirmed in a singu-
lar manner. In the sepulchral chapel of Braccioforte, contiguous to
the tomb of Dante at Ravenna, was discovered, on the 27th May 1865,
a box containing human bones, with an inscription declaring them to
be the bones of Dante, placed there on 'the i8th October 1677 by An-
tonio Santi, a Franciscan friar. To his Order the honour of the great
poet's sepulture originally belonged ; and his motive for removing the
bones to a receptacle known only to himself, and perhaps a few others,
appears to have been dread lest the Municipality of Ravenna should
make good a repeatedly-urged claim against the Friars to jurisdiction
over the tomb. In that secret shelter the precious relics lay hidden till
discovered as above related. The most careful and scientific investiga-
tion by the Government verified them so far as possible as the bones of
Dante Allighieri. The mask was found to correspond in many impor-
tant parts to the head of the skeleton. The cavity of the cranium being
filled with rice, the weight of this was ascertained to be 1420 grammes.
[Professor Huxley states that the heaviest brain weighed by Professor
Wagner — that of a woman — amounted to 1872 grammes; next to it
comes the brain of Cuvier (1861 grammes), then Byron (1807 grammes),
and then an insane person (1783 grammes) : the lightest adult brain
recorded (720 grammes) was that of an idiotic female.] Without com-
mitting themselves to the science of phrenology, the learned examiners
record the following observations on the skull : — Very noticeable are
the osseous regions connected with the organs of poetry, music, satire,
religion, benevolence, and those which indicate love of authority and
independence, self-esteem, pride, loftiness of spirit, self-love ; those
also which are connected with the mechanical talents of drawing, sculp-
ture, and architecture. There is a notable development of the parts
corresponding to the organs of circumspection and caution. The cha-
racteristics of a philosophic mind show themselves ; such a mind as
possesses in an eminent degree the inductive faculty, the habit of pon-
dering great matters, the aptitude of discovering the most abstract and
remote relations between things — in sum, the organization is that of those
universal geniuses who have been the true teachers of the human race.
(Relazione della Commissione Governativa eletta a verificare il fattodel
ritrovamento delle Ossa di Dante in Ravenna. Firenze, 1865.)
CHAPTER IV.
THE WOOD, AND THE APPARITION OF VIRGIL.
Questa selva selvaggia ed aspra e forte.
What this wood was, savage, and rough, and strong.
Inf. I. 5-
IN A.D. 1300, the year of the Jubilee ; at dawn on the
25th of March, the Feast of the Annunciation, then
reckoned as New Year's Day, and happening that year to
be also Maundy Thursday ; Dante, then nearly thirty-five,
and approaching the time of his election to the Priorato,
perceived himself to have wandered while half asleep from
the right path, and to be actually entangled in the mazes of
a dark wood. Before him rose a hill whose sides were
clothed with sunshine ; but no man walked thereon. Dante
took courage to begin the ascent, and had made some little
progress in climbing, the lower foot being ever the firmer,
when he found himself successively withstood and repelled
by three wild beasts, a swift Leopard, a raging Lion, and a
craving greedy Wolf. These, but chiefly the last, were
gradually and irresistibly forcing him back upon the sun-
less plain, when suddenly he became aware that he was no
longer alone.
While I was crushing down to the low place,
To me was offered one before mine eyes
Who seemed by reason of long silence hoarse.
Dante seeks aid from Virgil. 33
In the great desert him when I beheld
* Have pity upon me ! ' I cried to him,
* Who that thou be, or Shade, or certain man.'
He answered me : ' Not man : man once I was ;
Also my parents were Lombardians,
Mantuans as to country both the two.
Sub Julio was I born, although 'twere late,
And under good Augustus lived in Rome,
In the time of the false and lying gods.
I was a poet, and I sang that just
Son of Anchises who did come from Troy,
After that haughty Ilion had been burned.
But why to such annoy returnest thou ?
Wherefore not scale the delectable mount
Which of all joy is cause and principle ? '
' Art thou that Virgil, then, that fountain-head
Which spreads abroad so wide a stream of speech?'
Replied I to him with a brow ashamed.
* O of the other poets honour and light,
Avail me the long study and great love
Which have impelled me search thy volume through !
My master thou, and thou mine author art :
Thou only art the one from whom I took
The noble style which won me honouring.
Behold the beast because of which I turned :
Do thou against her help me, famous sage,
Because she makes me tremble, veins and pulse.
' Thee it behoves to hold another course,'
He answered, after that he saw me weep,
1 If thou would'st get from out this savage place.
34 Virgil proposes the threefold Pilgrimage.
Whence I, for thy more good, think and discern
Thou follow me : and I will be thy guide,
And bring thee hence by an eternal place ;
Where thou shalt hearken the despairing shrieks,
Shalt see the ancient Spirits dolorous,
That each one outcries for the second death.
And thou shalt then see those who are content
Within the fire, because they hope to come,
When that it be, unto the blessed race.
To whom thereafter if thou wouldst ascend,
A Soul there '11 be more worthy this than I :
Thee will I leave with her, when I depart :
Seeing that Emperor Who above there rules,
Because I was rebellious to His law,
Wills to His city no access by me.
In every part He sways, and there He reigns :
There is His city, and the exalted seat.
Oh happy he whom thither He elects ! '
And I to him : ' Poet, I crave of thee,
And by that God of Whom thou knewest not,
That I may flee this evil so, and worse,
That thou do take me whither now thou saidst,
So that I may behold Saint Peter's gate,
And those whom thou dost make so sorrowful.'
Then on he moved, and I kept after him.
Inf. I. 61-93, 112-136.
But the rayless atmosphere seemed yet again to exert its
baleful influence. Scarcely had they set forward when
Dante, appalled alike at the prospect before him and at
his own unworthiness, expressed his doubts and shrinkings,
and was afresh and more effectually encouraged.
Virgil tells of the descent of Beatrice. 35
* If I have rightly understood thy speech,'
Replied that Shade of the magnanimous,
* With abjectness thy spirit is oppressed ;
Which oftentimes encumbereth a man,
Diverting him from honoured enterprise,
As seeing false, a beast, when it is dusk.
In order that thou free thee of this fear,
I '11 tell thee why I came, and what I heard
At the first point when I was grieved for thee.
I was among the Spirits in suspense :
A lady called me, blest and beautiful,
Such that I did beseech her to command.
Her eyes were shining more than does the star,
And she began to address me, soft and low,
With voice angelic in her utterance.
" O courteous Spirit thou of Mantua,
Of whom the fame yet in the world endures,
And shall endure as far as motion does, —
One that is mine and is not Fortune's friend
Is so impeded on the desert slope,
Upon his path, that he is turned for dread ;
And he 's so far already strayed, I fear,
That to his help I may be risen late,
By that which I in Heaven have heard of him.
Now do thou move, and with thine ornate speech,
And what behoves to his deliverance,
So succour him that I may be consoled.
I that do make thee go am Beatrice :
I come from where I would return unto :
Love moved me, as it maketh me to speak.
When I shall be in presence of my Lord,
Thee will I praise unto Him oftentimes."
Here she was silent ; and then I began ; —
" Lady of Virtue, oh by whom "alone
D
36 Wherefore Beatrice descended.
The human race exceeds the whole contents
Within that heaven which hath its circles least,1
So much doth thy commanding pleasure me
As that obeying, though now 'twere, were late :
Needs thee no further open me thy wish.
But tell me wherefore thou dost not beware
Of coming to this centre here-adown,
From the ample place thou burnest to regain."
" Since thou so far within desir'st to know,
I briefly shall apprise thee," she replied,
" Why I am not afraid to come herein.
Only those things are to be had in fear
Which have the potency to do one harm ;
The others not, for they 're not terrible.
I, of His grace, am fashioned such by God
That misery of yours touches not me,
Nor, of this burning, flame assails me not.
In heaven a gentle lady is, who grieves
For this impediment I send thee to,
So that she breaks the stern decree above.
Lucia she prayed in her soliciting,
And said : * Now stands thy faithful one in need
Of thee ; and him to thee I recommend.'
Enemy to all cruel, Lucia
Moved her, and to the place came where was I,
Who side by side with ancient Rachel sat.
' Beatrice,' said she, ' very praise of God,
Why succourest not him who loved thee so
He issued from the vulgar herd for thee ?
Hearest thou not the anguish of his plaint ?
Seest thou not the death which combats him
1 'The Lunar Heaven ; in other words, "Through whom the human
race excels every other sublunary thing." '
Dante encouraged by Virgil. 37
Upon the flood whereof no sea can boast ? ' x
Never were persons in the world so swift
To do their vantage, and to flee their harm,
As I, upon the proffering such words,
Came downward hither from my blessed throne,
Confiding me in thy decorous speech,
Which honours thee and those who Ve hearkened it."
After whenas she had discoursed me this,
Weeping, she turned away her shining eyes,
Whereby the swifter made she me to come.
And unto thee I came, as she did will :
Away I took thee from before the beast
Which stopped thee from the fair mount's short ascent.
What is't then ? Wherefore, wherefore, hold'st thou back ?
Wherefore dost harbour in thy heart such fear ?
Daring and valour wherefore hast thou not ?
Seeing such ladies three beatified
Have in the court of heaven a care of thee,
And mine assertion warrants thee such good.'
Like as the flowerets, by the nightly frost
Bent down and closed, when the sun whitens them,
All open on their stalk erect themselves ;
Such I became as to my courage spent :
And to my heart such righteous daring flowed
That, like to one stout-hearted, I began :
' Oh ! she that succoured me compassionate !
And courteous thou who promptly didst obey
The veritable words she proffered thee !
Thou with desiring hast disposed my heart
So to the going forward, by thy words,
1 ' Perhaps an allusion to the hellish river Acheron, which loses itself
in the centre of earth, instead of emptying into any sea.'
D antes political views.
That I 've reverted to the first intent.
Now go, for there 's one only will in both, —
Thou leader, and thou lord, and master thou.'
So said I to him : and, when he had moved,
I entered in the lofty wooded way.
n. 43-H2.
These first two cantos of the Inferno must be regarded
as belonging not to it only, but to the whole Divina Corn-
media, between which and the Vita Nuova they form
the connecting link. Ere we can even inadequately enter
into their meaning, we must have some general notion of
Dante's matured political views as set forth in his treatise
De Monarchia. His Ghibellinism was neither a narrow
partisanship, nor a hesitating adherence founded on a nice
balancing of the more of good and less of evil in the two
opposing factions. Rather he had formed a vast sublime
conception, which shall be set forth in his own words : —
' Only Man among beings holds mid [place between things
corruptible and things incorruptible ; ... so, alone among
all beings is he ordained to two ultimate ends : whereof the
one is the end of Man according as he is corruptible, the
other his end according as he is incorruptible. Therefore
that unspeakable Providence proposed to Man two ends ;
the one the beatitude of this life, which consists in the
operations of his own virtue, and is figured in the Terres-
trial Paradise ; the other the beatitude of eternal life, which
consists in the fruition of the Divine Countenance, whereto
his own virtue cannot mount except it be aided by the
Divine Light — and this is understood by the Celestial
Paradise. To these two beatitudes, as to clivers conclu-
Doctrine respecting Pope and Emperor. 39
sions, by divers means must we come. For to the first we
attain by philosophic teachings, provided we follow these,
acting according to the moral and intellectual virtues : l to
the second by those spiritual teachings which transcend
human reason, provided we follow these, acting according
to the theological virtues, Faith, Hope, and Charity. There-
fore these conclusions and means — albeit they be shown us,
the one by human reason, which all was made known to
us by Philosophers ; the other by the Holy Spirit, Who,
through Prophets and hagiographers, through Jesus Christ,
Son of God Co-eternal to Himself, and through His disciples,
revealed truth supernatural and to us necessary — human
cupidity would repudiate, unless men like horses, in their
bestial nature wandering, by bit and bridle were restrained
on the road. Wherefore by man was needed a double
directive according to the double end : that is, of the
Supreme Pontiff, who, according to Revelation, should lead
mankind to eternal life ; and of the Emperor, who, accord-
ing to philosophic teachings, should direct mankind to
temporal felicity. And whereas to this port none or few,
and those with overmuch difficulty, could attain, unless
mankind, the waves of enticing cupidity being quieted,
should repose free in the tranquillity of peace j this is the
aim to be mainly kept in view by the Guardian of the
Globe, who is named Roman Prince, to wit, that in the
garden-plot of mortals freely with peace may men live. ' 2
The expression 'Guardian of the Globe,' is equivalent to
' Emperor of the whole Earth,' for Dante's conception was
of nothing less than a temporal supremacy of the Emperor
correspondent to the spiritual supremacy of the Pope in
1 Note here Dante's esteem of Philosophy, and cf. pp. 21-25.
2 De Monarchid Hi. 15.
4O Interpretation of the Wood.
universality, in direct derivation from Almighty God, and
in indissoluble connexion with the city and people of
Rome.
Under the shadow of this world-filling vision we sit down
to expound.
The Wood appears, beyond a doubt, to be symbolical of
the moral and political condition of Italy just before Dante's
election to the Priorato — a state of anarchy rapidly lapsing,
in his apprehension, into savagery. Sdva—wood is the root
of selvaggio— savage; il viver selvaggio— savage life, is op-
posed to il viver civile— civil life -, the worst of all evils for
man on earth is non esser cive*=not to be a citizen=iQ live in
the isolation of a savage. Dante then, before reason had
matured within him, found himself a Guelphic member of a
Guelphic family, living in a factiously Guelphic community ;
and became thus involved in a maze of moral and political
disorder. Before his mental eye rose fair the hill of Virtue,
illuminated by the sun of Reason, and waiting for the ideal
City. He proposed to inaugurate, during his tenure of
office, the course which should build and people it : — how
colossal was the task, how all but non-existent were. the
materials, we gather from Boccaccio's record of his silence
and his words on a memorable occasion. 'He being
gloriously supreme in the government of the Republic, dis-
course was held among the chief citizens of sending, for a
certain great need (to check the intrigue of the Blacks with
Charles of Valois), an embassy to Pope Boniface VIIL,
and of appointing Dante head of this embassy. And he
receiving the proposal in the presence of all who so coun-
selled, and somewhat delaying his reply, one happened to say :
1 Par. viii. 115-117.
Imagery of Dante s danger and deliverance. 41
" Whereon thinkest thou?" To which words he answered:
" I am thinking, if I go, who remains ; and if I remain, who
goes ; " — as if he alone among all were strong, and the rest
strong only in him.' The event, as we have seen, justified
this view ; so that it is no wonder to find him in symbolic
imagery proceed to show that scarcely had he begun to act,
securing each onward step before venturing the next, when
behold the three Guelph powers with their characteristic
vices, arraying themselves against him, beset his path ;
Florence in her factiousness, France in her pride, the Court
of Rome in her avarice. He had almost sunk back into
hopeless corruption, when Virgil, the symbol and imperso-
nation of Human Science, especially of Moral and Political
Philosophy, appeared for his deliverance ; and as its only
effectual means, proposed to bring him to a right under-
standing of the Divine Will both for states and individuals,
by showing him in the Pit of Hell the hideous external and
internal condition of those who contemn it, on the Mount
of Purgatory the painful and toilsome process by which it is
wrought deep into the very texture and essence of the soul.
So far may Human Science teach, and no farther ; for let
Dante but once by perfected moral virtue attain to stand in
the Terrestrial Paradise of the beatitude of this life, and lo,
supernatural light shall dawn, supernatural grace descend
upon him ; his human liberty shall develop into the Divine
liberty of faith, hope, and love ; his human peace into the
Divine peace which passeth all understanding. At that
meeting-point between Heaven and Earth, a higher Guide
shall be vouchsafed him ; he shall be drawn up from the
Terrestrial into the Celestial Paradise, and there grace shall
culminate in that glory of the Beatific Vision whereof
42 The three blessed Ladies.
Beatrice, now transfigured into the embodiment of Divine
Science, is at once partaker and interpreter. She indeed
had been the suggester of the whole threefold pilgrimage,
though not its originating cause. For a gracious heavenly
Lady (the Divine Mercy or Prevenient Grace), moved with
pity, had first recommended Dante in his sore need to Lucia
(Illuminating Grace) ; and Lucia had claimed for him the
aid of his glorified Beatrice, as she sat in the third rank of
celestial thrones beside Rachel (Contemplation). Beatrice,
instantly perceiving that the only hope for her Beloved lay
in the realization of what comes after death, as instantly
descending to Limbo had with tears besought of Virgil the
succour he had hastened to proffer : — and Dante finally, free
of fears and doubts, hailing him as guide, as lord and
master, followed him within the Eternal World.
SECTION OF THE HELL.
DIVISION 2.. Fraud
LUCIFER
(Jo Jace Cfafi. V.)
CHAPTER V.
THE HELL.
Questo baratro e'l popol che '1 possiede.
This gulf, and eke the folk which it possess.
Inf. xi. 69.
HELL — in Holy Scripture so vividly represented as
the Pit, that not only is our Blessed Lord said to
have descended into the lower parts of the earth, but the
dead Samuel complains of being brought «/, and the living
David and Hezekiah deprecate going down — is by Dante
placed, as we have before seen, within the Earth ; its upper-
most central spot directly under that portion of her crust
which sustains Jerusalem, its innermost central point her
centre of gravity. The annexed plan of a section of the
Pit shows its form to be that of a funnel, or hollow inverted
cone ; within whose circuit we shall find that, as space con-
tracts, torment intensifies.
Hell is entered through an awful Gate, closed to none ;
reft of all fastenings since the day when the Conqueror of
Death, fresh from the Cross, forced through it His resistless
passage ; and bearing above it, in a dark colour, this in-
scription : —
1 Through me you pass into the grieving realm ;
Through me you pass into the eternal grief ;
44 ^ nte-Hell: the Neutrals. — The four Rivers.
Through me you pass among the kin that 's lost.
Justice impelled my Maker the All-High ;
The Puissance Divine created me,
The Supreme Wisdom, and the Primal Love.
Before myself, created things were not,
Unless eternal : — I eternal last.
Leave off all hope, all ye that enter in.'
Inf. in. 1-9.
Immediately beyond this Gate lies a dreary Ante- Hell,
the prison of certain Angels who when there was war in
Heaven took neither side, and of an inconceivable multi-
tude of human Souls who during their probation lived with-
out infamy and without praise, displeasing alike to God and
to His foes, selfishly neutral in the great unceasing conflict
between good and evil ; — never alive as noble minds count
life ; now most really and most awfully dead. For as they
passed their Time trimming and shuffling in the train of
public opinion, the sensitive slaves of every gossiping
tongue of their acquaintance — even so, disdained alike by
Justice and by Mercy, are they left to pass their Eternity
hurriedly chasing a hurrying standard, while flies and wasps
sting their naked bodies, and disgusting worms absorb their
blood and tears.
Ante-Hell is bounded by the Acheron, the first of the
four infernal rivers : of whose source a word may fitly here
be said. — In Crete, once fertile, now waste, is situate Mount
Ida, where Jove was nursed ; and within the cavernous
hollow of the mountain there yet stands erect the colossal
form of Jove's father Saturn, King of Crete during the
Golden Age. As the symbol of Time, he turns his back
on Damietta, for the East is of the past ; his face toward
Saturn. — Acheron: Charon. 45
Rome, for the West is of the present and the future. In
form he is, with slight variations, the Great Image of
Nebuchadnezzar's dream ; his head is of fine gold, his
breast and arms of pure silver, his middle of brass, his
thighs, legs, and left foot of choice iron, his right foot, on
which he chiefly rests, of clay. Thus representing the
successive ages of the world in their faultless commence-
ment and gradual degeneracy, in all his substance save the
gold he is cleft by a deep fissure, whence trickle the tears
of human shame and sorrow, till they form streams of force
to break through the earth's crust, and of volume to con-
stitute the four subterranean rivers — Acheron, Styx, Phlege-
thon, and Cocytus. With the last three we shall meet in
due time ; our present business is with Acheron = Joyless,
which flows down from the silver breast; and on whose
brink gather from all lands all human souls that depart
under the wrath of God. Charon, the first of a long train
of daemonic personages superhuman, human, and subhuman,
is the ferryman : and the miserable Shades are driven into
his boat by the sharp inward spurring of the Divine Justice,
further enforced upon laggards by blows from the oar.
Hell proper, which begins on the opposite bank, is
divided into nine concentric Circles ; each being a landing-
place in the descent, having on the one hand the, wall of
the solid earth, on the other the fearful void of the Abyss.
Circle I. is Limbo, the habitation of two classes of the
Unbaptized : Infants who have died too young for actual
sin, and such Non-believers of every age and clime as,
being in invincible ignorance, have ruled their lives by the
law of conscience, or have signally benefited mankind. A
third class was once there too — the holy Souls of the chosen
46 Circle I.: Limbo.
nation, who had passed from life in faith in Christ to come,
and whom He liberated at His triumphal Descent.
The denizens of Limbo, free from outward inflictions,
express by plaints which are only sighs a pain which is
only longing : but that hopeless longing is for the Face of
God, and that aching pain is the ' pain of loss,' and those
ceaseless sighs make the still air tremble into the eternal
breeze that constitutes the atmosphere of this thick spirit-
wood. Not far down in the descent, amid the gloom, shines
a luminous spot, where stands a noble castle guarded by
sevenfold high walls, entered by sevenfold gates, entrenched
by a fair stream, and enclosing a meadow of fresh verdure : —
for even on unchristened man shines the light of brighter
Intellect irradiating the deeper shades; and Virtue with
Wisdom builds up a strong and noble habitation for the
heroic and philosophic soul ; and the Seven Virtues are
high, guarding the Reason and the Will ; and the Seven
Sciences give entrance into the inner places of Knowledge ;
and Education affords the stream of passage from without,
while within the formed mind and character repose in free-
dom and refreshment. This castle is the utmost point of
attainment for non-believers ; — here abide their heroes and
heroines, the great ones of their active life ; here too, and
in somewhat more exalted place, their poets and sages,
the great ones of their contemplative life. Consciously
as locally suspended between reward and punishment,
baulked and baffled in their whole nature for lack of that
which is above nature, keenly sensitive to every wounding
token of their separation from the Blessed ; thirsting still
for the perfect knowledge they thirsted for on earth, and
knowing they must for ever thirst in vain ; desiring without
Minos. — Three Classes of Sins. Incontinence. 47
hope that Supreme Good of which they can form higher
conceptions than can their fellow-prisoners, yet too self-
controlled, as it would seem, to sigh their atmosphere out
of its perfect stillness ; in countenance neither sad nor glad,
but of great authority ; slow and grave in gaze, uttering
rare speech with modulated voice; retaining the tender
affections of their earthly state, and some at least com-
passionating in all the void with which each and all are
aching, these God-sick dwellers on the edge of the ' great
gulf fixed ' pine on and on eternally, conscious of every
natural endowment of kings and priests in the Heavenly
City, but wanting alike the anointing oil of grace and the
crown of glory.
At the entrance of the Second Circle sits another dae-
monic personage — the infernal Judge Minos. All those
who, having passed Acheron, stop not short in Limbo,
stand in turn before him to confess their sins, and he,
discerning to which of the eight penal Circles each Soul
belongs,
Girds himself with his tail as many times
As he resolves that she be lowered grades.
V. 11-12.
In these eight Circles we first note the three great
classes into which Dante, following Aristotle in names,
though not altogether in their application, divides sins ;
viz., Incontinence, Bestialism, and Malice. Incontinence
is want of self-control ; the sins which proceed from it,
and which are punished in the Second, Third, Fourth,
and Fifth Circle respectively, are Lasciviousness, Gluttony,
Avarice with Prodigality, Anger with Melancholy. Bestial-
ism, punished in the Sixth Circle, and in strict accordance
48 Bestialism. — Malice : Violence.
with the meaning of the Italian word bestialitade charac-
terized by Dante as besotted, comprises Infidelity and
Heresy in all their forms ; the most prominent form being
that Materialism whereof our author says in his Convito,
' Among all bestialisms (i.e., follies) that is most stupid,
most vile, and most hurtful by which any believes, after
this life no other life to be ; inasmuch as if we turn over all
the writings as well of philosophers as of other wise writers,
all agree in this, that in us is some part perpetual/ *
Malice works others woe either by Violence or by Fraud.
And here — lest my reader should echo Dante's perplexity at
Virgil's statement — I had better premise that some sins of
Malice will appear nearly identical with some of Inconti-
nence ; but in each such case the moral difference between
sins of passion and surprise, and sins of wilfulness, delibe-
ration and depravity, must be taken for granted.
Violence is punished in the Seventh Circle according to a
threefold classification of sinners against their neighbour,
themselves, or their God. Further subdivisions distinguish
slayers or injurers of person from robbers, wasters, or de-
stroyers of property ; and offenders against the Sacred Per-
son of God by blasphemy, from offenders against the things
of God, i.e., Nature and Art. For as Nature is God's daugh-
ter and disciple, so Art, her child and follower, must needs
be His granddaughter and sub-disciple. The offence
against Art is Usury — God's sentence being that man shall
eat bread in the sweat of his brow, i.e., shall by labour of
head and hand utilize natural resources ; whereas the usurer,
a mere parasite, derives nourishment from toils he never
shares, and from supplies to which he adds nothing.
1 Conv. ii. 9.
Fraitd. — Two Points. — Circle II. L ascivious. 49
Fraud alone remains to be treated of in its surpassing
heinousness as the abuse of man's peculiar and noblest gift
of Reason, and in its yet more minute and perplexing clas-
sification. Its main distinction is that which assigns to the
Eighth Circle ten subdivisions of the simply Fraudulent,
who, by deceiving such as had no special reason for trusting
them, have broken only the bond of love uniting all men
as sharers in a common nature ; and to the Ninth Circle
four subdivisions of the Treacherous, who, by betraying
their kindred, country, friends, or beneficent lords, have
broken the closer bond of natural love intertwined with
special faith.
Two more points should be premised with regard to all
the reprobate. First, that after the Resurrection of the
Body their sufferings will increase, inasmuch as sensitive-
ness to good and evil is in proportion to the perfection of
him who experiences either; and though sin be essential
imperfection, yet the risen sinner will be so far perfect as
to possess both the parts which constitute man. And
secondly, that Dante supposes them to have some knowledge
of future events in this world, but not of present unless in-
formed from without ; whence it follows that all their know
ledge will become extinct from that hour in which the dooi
of the future shall be shut.
Having taken this general survey we proceed to parti-
culars.
Incontinence, as we have seen, is want of self-restraint
and is the principle of the sins for which four, or perhaps
more correctly six, classes of transgressors suffer in four
successive Circles.
In Circle II., the prison of the Lascivious, begins the
E
50 Circle III. Gluttons: IV. Money-sinners.
outer darkness of Hell and the ' pain of sense.' Here they
whose passions have sown the wind reap the roaring whirl*
wind, and utter most piercing shrieks of terror as ever and
anon they are blown to the very edge of the yawning
Abyss.
Circle III. is a climate of cold, heavy, dirty-looking,
stench-exhaling, changeless rain and hail and snow, pour-
ing down in ceaseless torrents on the prostrate Gluttons,
whose god was their belly, and who, now and to all Eter-
nity the prey of a sort of personified belly, the demon
Cerberus, are devoured by his teeth, rent by his claws, and
deafened by his barking.
Dante's view of Usury will have prepared us to find that
he regards all misusers of money, whether hoarders or
wasters, as special ignorers of social obligation and breakers
of social order. Consequently, in the various Circles
wherein they are located, one punishment is of continual
recurrence — made in some way invisible or unrecognisable,
they are cut off from society. In Circle IV., the realm of the
demon Plutus, are seen but not known a vast multitude of
the two least guilty classes of money-sinners : Misers who
placed their happiness in gold, and who will rise from the
dead with clenched fists ; Spendthrifts who placed theirs in
what gold will buy, and who will rise with close-cropped
hair. (An Italian proverb says of such, ' darebbe tutto fino ai
capelli' = ' He would lavish all, to his very hair.')1 The two
bands for ever crawl in opposite directions half-way round
their dungeon, howling as they impel before them weighty
masses which at each recurring meeting clash in infernal
harmony with their mutual revilings.
1 G. Rossetti, Com, dti. vol. i. c. vii. t. 19.
Circle V. Wrathfiil and Melancholy. 5 i
Circle V., the domain of the demon Phlegyas, is the
muddy and putrid River Styx= Hatred, Sadness, which,
flowing from the brazen middle of Saturn, and here forcing
its way through the wall of Hell, harbours the Wrathful =
Iracondi, and the Melancholy = A cddivsi: two classes who
seern at first sight to have little in common. S. John the
Damascene however speaks of Ira as ' a kindling of the
blood surrounding the heart, through the vaporation of the
gall ; ' — while S. Thomas Aquinas attributes Accidia to
' sad and melancholy vaporations ; ' hence probably their
combination by Dante under like punishment by putrid
fumes. The question is farther complicated by Accidia=.
Melancholy, being in Italian identified with the deadly sin
of Sloth, and defined by theologians as ' a certain sadness
which weighs down the spirit of man in such wise that there is
nothing he likes to do ; wherefore accidia implies a certain
tedium : ' 1 — ' a sadness of the mind which weighs upon the
spirit, so that the person conceives no will towards well-
doing, but rather feels it irksome.' 2 Dante in the Purga-
torio, as we shall hereafter find, dwells on the sluggish, as
here in the Inferno on the gloomy, aspect of the sin. And
as he punishes lower down, in the Circle of the Violent, not
only suicides as corresponding to murderers, but as corre-
sponding to robbers those spendthrifts and gamblers who
have wantonly and obstinately reduced themselves to weep
where they were meant to be joyous, so he here punishes
with the wrathful enemies of others' peace and happiness the
melancholy enemies of their own. These, imbedded in the
very dregs of the pool, bewail eternally the absence of those
cheering influences of Nature by which they sometime re-
1 Maestruzzo. 2 Tratt. Pecc. Mort.
52 Wherein Meekness consists.
fused to be cheered :— while those, partly emerging above
its surface, rend and defile each other and themselves after
death, as once in life. It is farther noteworthy that both in
the Inferno and in the Purgatorio the Meekness contrary to
the sin of Anger is in practice set forth far less as the un-
resisting Gentleness which endures evil than as the righteous
Indignation which repels it. For in the Convito, Dante,
defining Virtue in general as ' an elective habit consisting
in the mean,' lays down that Meekness 'moderates our
anger and our too great patience against our exterior ills :'*
herein following his master Ser Brunette, who thus speaks :
* He that is truly meek 2 is angry whereat he ought, and
with whom, and as much as, and as, and when, and
where. He is wrathful8 that passes the mean in these
things, and forthwith rushes into Anger. The wrathless4
is he that is not angry where it behoves, and when, and
as much as, and with whom, and as ; and he is not to be
praised.5 6 It is extremely probable that the Accidiosi at
the bottom of Styx while on earth partook largely of such
Wrathlessness, supinely wretched for want of that measured
Resentment which, stopping short of revenge, would yet
have remedied mischief. e
So far Incontinence, which gradually but surely besotting
the Understanding and perverting the Will, at length brings
to pass that men do not like to retain God in their know-
ledge, nor to look forward to the Judgment after death;
and so depraves them into that Bestialism which seems to
1 Convito iv. 17. 2 Mansueto. ' Iracondo.
4 Inrascibile. 5 Tesoro vi. 2 1.
6 G- Rossetti, Comento Analitico, Riflessioni sul c. viL
Circle VI. Infidelity and Heresy. 53
correspond to the Folly of Holy Writ. By it the fool
saith in his heart, 'There is no God/ denying Him in
Whose Image he was made ; by it he mentally remakes
himself in the image of the beasts that perish. Therefore
after the lesser inflictions of Upper Hell, the region of
simple darkness, through the four Circles of the Inconti-
nent, come the torments of Nether Hell, the region of
darkness and of fire ; that fire being, in every instance but
one, the peculiar punishment of such as have dared come
into direct collision with Him Who is a Consuming Fire,
even the Jealous God. It first burns in the one appalling
Circle of the Bestialized— Circle VI., the City of Dis, a
fortified cemetery whose turrets and walls, garrisoned by
demons and guarded by Furies, defend no houses, but keep
under closest watch and ward tombs red-heated by creeping
flames — tombs of souls buried everlastingly, like with like,
for the Infidelity which disbelieved their God's existence
and their own, or for the Heresy which declared their God
other than He has revealed Himself to be. Open as yet,
these tombs will all be closed over the re-embodied souls
after the Judgment Day.
As Incontinence degrades the soul towards Bestialism, so
Bestialism hems it round in Malice. He indeed is the fool
of fools who saith, ' There is no God ; ' but he too is a fool
who, saying, * Tush, the Lord shall not see/ goes on to
annul his Reason by brutish Violence, or to abuse it by
worse than brutish Fraud. Consequently the three remain-
ing Circles, though sunk to a far lower level, are accounted
within the Red City of Dis, and are under the guard of its
fortified enclosure. Its central Void, exhaling the intoler-
54 Circle VII. Violence, 3 classes.
able stench of deadliest sin, is the brute-demon Minotaur's
prowling-field ; in depth ever a fearful chasm, in character
a broken and precipitous landslip from the hour when the
earthquake at the Crucifixion, felt throughout the Abyss,
left its special and tremendous mark on the prison-houses
of the Violence and Fraud which had culminated in
Deicide.
At the foot of this chasm spreads Circle VII., the Hell of
Violence, divided into three concentric rings. Ring i, the
outermost, is the boiling Blood-river Phlegethon= Burning,
issuing from Saturn's iron limbs. Herein stand, at a greater
or less depth according to the degree of their guilt, the
Violent against their Neighbour's person or property : /.<?.,
Tyrants, Murderers, and Marauders. Their demon-gaolers
are the Centaurs, whose arrows keep them down to the pre-
scribed depth. Within the circuit of the Blood-river lies
Ring 2, the Dolorous Wood, prison and population all in
one. For its poison-trees are Suicides, degraded from
animal to vegetable bodies, tortured by Harpies, who
pluck and eat their leaves, and alone of all the lost doomed
after the Judgment Day not to resume their self- despoiled
garment of flesh, but hang it on a branch. All about the
Wood wanton Spendthrifts and destroyers of their own
goods, in utter nakedness, are hunted and rent piecemeal
by demon hounds. Phlegethon, here flowing unseen be-
neath the soil, reappears at the edge of this grim garland
to traverse its enclosure, Ring 3, a scorched and scorching
Sand-Waste lying under a rain of fire-flakes. — And here a
very curious question presents itself. In the second Can-
zone of the Convito, Dante thus speaks of Philosophy,
whom he calls his Lady : —
The Fire-rain of Earth and of Hell. 5 5
Her beauty raineth down flamelets of fire,
Animate with a noble gracious spirit,
Which is creator of each virtuous thought ;
These break like thunderbolts
The innate vices which make any vile.
And he thus comments on his own words : ' It is to be
known that morality is the beauty of Philosophy : for as the
beauty of the body results from the limbs, in so far as they
are duly ordered ; so the beauty of wisdom, which is the
body of Philosophy, as is said, results from the order of the
moral virtues, which cause that [wisdom] to please sensibly.
And therefore I say that her beauty, that is morality, rains
flamelets of fire, that is right appetite, which is generated
in the pleasure of moral doctrine ; which appetite separates
us even from our natural vices, much more from others.
And hence springs that happiness, which Aristotle defines
in the first of the Ethics, saying that it is action according
to virtue in a perfect life/ * One cannot help asking, Is
there a subtle connexion between these two fire-rains'?
Philosophy, defined as ' a loving use of wisdom/ is said to
be 'chiefly in God;'2 and this Third Ring hems in the
special violators of the Divine Majesty in His Sacred
Person, in His child Nature, and in His grandchild Art.
Has that disregarded rain, which welcomed into these Souls
on earth would have separated them from their sin, at
length penetrated within the earth to punish them and their
now eternally inseparable sin together1? — However this may
be, we certainly see here, as elsewhere, sinners against God
under burning torment, endured by Blasphemers supine, as
experiencing in the utmost possible degree that the God
1 Conv. iii. 15. • Ib. iii. 12.
56 Circle VIII. Fraud. Pit i, 2, 3.
Who answereth by fire is God indeed ; by breakers of His
laws in Nature walking compulsorily, under a severe penalty
if they stop ; by breakers of His laws in Art seated. These
last, the Usurers, as money-sinners, are not recognised by
personal semblance, and as quasi-fraudulent are located
next to the central Void, here again of appalling depth, with
Phlegethon for its rock-cascade till the stream disappears
once more under the next landing-place. The demon of
this passage is Geryon, a winged monster of human face
and serpent trunk — apt type and embodiment of Fraud.
Circle VIII., Evilpits, is the Hell of Fraud Simple, i.e.,
Kraud against those who have no special ground of trust in
their deceiver. Its form, implied in its name, is that of a
series of circular concentric fosses separated by walls, the
outermost wall being of course the solid earth ; and con-
nected by a chain of rock-bridges running all across from
wall-top to wall-top, till cut short by the central Void.
The whole is of a livid stone-colour, and lies on the slope :
the punishment of Fraud in dungeons thus constructed
corresponding to the hidden and lurking character of the
offence.
In Pit i, Deceivers of women are scourged by demons. —
Pit 2 is a cesspool in which Flatterers are sunk and choked ;
for ' that which cometh out of the mouth,' this defileth a
man.' * — Pit 3, the tomb of Simoniacs, is perforated through-
out bottom and sides with round holes, ' purses ' in which
those money-sinners are imbursed from sight, head down-
ward and within the earth, while their feet writhe without,
licked by the fire which torments offenders directly against
God. It is singular that this fire is not in each case
1 S. Matt xv. 1 1.
Circle VIII. Fraud. Pit 4, 5, 6. 57
eternal; as one simoniacal Pope drops upon another in
their special purse, the predecessor sinks wholly within the
rock, and the flame is transferred to the successor.1 — Pit 4
is ceaselessly perambulated by Diviners, Sorcerers, and
Witches, with heads twisted round upon their necks, so as
to look eternally backward for having sought to look too
forward. Dante seems, however, to condemn them even
more as impostors than as presumptuous searchers into the
secret things of God. — Pit 5 is a lake of boiling pitch,
wherein are submerged Barterers of justice, office, etc., who
on earth found money stick to their hands. They are
under the guard of a troop of peculiarly lying and spiteful
demons with personal and significant names, but classed
together as Evilclaws, who tear them piecemeal with prongs
if they appear above the surface. — Pit 6 lodges the college
of Hypocrites, toiling along under the overwhelming weight
of leaden cloaks and hoods, dazzlingly gilt without. But
the Arch-hypocrites of ail time — Caiaphas, Annas, and the
rest of the Council that condemned our Blessed Lord — lie
athwart the way, impaled naked in the form of a cross ;
trampled on by each walker in succession, and so crushed,
not by one leaden mantle, but by as many as the Pit con-
tains. Most just and terrible retribution, that the rejecters
at once and instruments of the One Sacrifice for the sins of
the whole world should thus sensibly and visibly bear the
eternal burden of others' sin and pain as well as of their
own. Over this Pit the bridge is broken, and lies a heap
of fragments at the bottom ; this being the second special
point at which the earthquake at the Crucifixion took
permanent effect. — Pit 7, the dungeon of Thieves, swarms
1 G. Rossetti, Com. An. vol. 2, c. xix. t. 22.
58 Circle VIII. Fraud. Pit 7, 8, 9, 10.
with a loathsome agglomerate of naked men and serpents ;
the serpents stinging, the men stung, and each thus alter-
nately transforming and transformed into the other ; by a
hideous community, not of property only, but of person,
' annihilating the distinction between meum and tuum? 1—
Pit 8 presents the sole instance of a sin not directly against
God avenged by burning. It is the furnace of Evil Coun-
sellors, whose tongue, a little member set on fire of Hell
while yet on earth, has covertly kindled a great matter, yea
has set on fire the course of Nature ; and who here find
how fearful a covering they have all the while been weaving
for themselves, even a tongue-shaped winding-sheet of fire
unquenchable. Yet they retain a ghastly power of move-
ment and of speech, the tongue within actuating the flame-
tongue without. — Pit 9 is the shambles where Schismatics
and Discord-breeders are cleft by a sword-bearing Devil :
he stationary at a fixed point, they constrained to pace ever
round and round; each time reaching the point whole,
each time starting from it hacked and mutilated afresh. —
Pit 10 is the lazar-house of Falsifiers, sick of various dis-
eases, and so falsified in appearance and condition.3 They
are divided into three classes, according as they have sinned
in respect of Substance, of Semblance, or of Fact The
Falsifiers of Substance are Alchemists blotched with leprosy,
and Coiners bloated with dropsy. The Falsifiers of Sem-
blance are counterfeiters of the person of another for some
evil end : these are out of their mind (l\.&\.fuor di se=.out
of self)? The Falsifiers of Fact are malicious Liars, fever-
stricken and prostrate. And some are instruments of further
1 W. M. Rossetti, Trans. Hell, Gen. Exp. p. xxx.
• Cayley, Notes, p. 109. 8 W. M. R. p. xxxii.
Well of Giants. Circle IX. Treachery. 59
suffering to others — the sick by brawling and blows, the
mad by rabid biting.
We have reached the last portion of the central Void,
the Well of the Primaeval Giants. Its denizens are the
Nimrod of Holy Scripture, and the Titans and other Giants
of classic fable. Their height may be computed at about
seventy feet ; their intellect, speech, power, and freedom
are curtailed in inverse proportion. Their position as in
some sort demon-sentinels over the entire region of the
Fraudulent — for their heads tower high over the brink of
Evilpits, while their feet rest on the frozen bottom of the
Abyss— forcibly suggests the retribution slowly but surely
dogging the steps of Fraud as the destroyer of the mutual
trust on which society is based ; — namely, relapse into that
savagery wherein brute force reigns supreme.
And finally we touch Circle IX., the pool Cocytus= Wail-
ing, formed by the coalition of the three rivers at the point
where stagnancy must needs ensue from the non-existence
of any lower level. But no mere stagnancy : Cocytus is as
fast bound in frost as are the affections of the Traitors
therein locked up. Lying like Evilpits on the slope, it is
rather a bason than a plain of ice ; and subdivides into four
Belts, distinguishable only by the position of its captives
Belt i is Caina ; here Betrayers of their Kindred are im-
mersed up to the neck. — Belt 2 is Antenora, named from
the Trojan Antenor, who according to one author betrayed
Troy ; here Betrayers of their Country are immersed up
to the throat. — Belt 3 is Ptolemsea, named from Ptolemy
the Younger who betrayed Pompey ; here Betrayers of their
Friends and Guests are fixed, not as the others, who can
hide their faces by bending them downwards, but supine,
60 Lucifer.
face upwards ; and the utter baseness of the sin further sub-
jects the soul committing it to instant reprobation in this
lowest pit, the body informed by a devil still lingering on
earth till the appointed term of life is expired. — Lastly, Belt
4 is Judecca ; here Betrayers of their Beneficent Lords,
wholly imbedded in varying postures, show through the ice
like straws in glass. Three of these Traitors however are
excepted, as we shall see ere long.
For lo, the bottom of the Bottomless Pit :— What, who
is there 1
Lucifer once, Dis now ; physically as morally self-centred :
half above the ice and half below it, so that his middle cor-
responds to the precise centre of gravity. How colossal his
frame we may faintly image when we learn that an ordinary
stature more nearly approaches the seventy feet of the
Giants in the Well than those seventy feet the length of his
arms. But his ingratitude is past estimation, past imagina-
tion, all but infinite : nay, in a true sense, infinite — for
though he be but a creature, and so finite, and though he
were originally endowed, as Dante thinks, with the highest
of all creatures' gifts, and so his endowments were finite too,
yet He Who created him for Himself is Infinite, and the
rejection of the Infinite must needs have a character of
infinity. Wherefore as by the benefit is estimated the in-
gratitude, so by the effect of that ingratitude in present
hideousness the pristine beauty; and if such were indeed
the pristine beauty, and he who was graced therewith yet
rebelled against his Creator and Adorner, duly is he for ever
the summit and the source of mourning. His head is
triple-faced — the front face ruddy, the right-shoulder face
The bowels of the Western hemisphere. 6 1
yellowish, the left black ; in symbol of his dominion over
all reprobates from the three parts of the world, the com-
plexions being respectively those of Europe, Asia, and
Africa. Beneath each face protrude two monstrous bat-
wings, whose flapping creates the wind to freeze Cocytus.
In the three mouths are the three excepted Traitors — Judas
Iscariot, Marcus Brutus, Cassius ; the first in the front
mouth, less tormented by the teeth than by the horrible
claws which tear him alone, and so punished far more than
the other two, here classed with him as being traitors
against what Dante regarded as the most sacred Will and
Law of the Almighty, the establishment of the Roman
Empire.
What yet remains ? Not Hell, but Earth ; the bowels
of the Western hemisphere. Beyond the centre of gravity
there is no more going down, but up, head skywards. Half
Lucifer's body indeed, reversed in posture, pollutes this
hemisphere, but, colossal as it is, it is quickly left behind ;
— there is a down-flowing stream, but it can scarcely be
formed of matter more virulent than the tears of contrition
shed by the already half-beatified tenants of Purgatory ; for
all sorrow, pure and purifying though it be, is yet in a sense
of the earth, earthy, and so tends to the centre of gravity.1
Earth's bowels are dark, but afford a way to the light ; the
i G. Rossetti, Com. An. c. xxxiv. t. 44. My theory, wholly sug-
gested by my father's, is yet not absolutely identical with his. He
thinks that ' whatever sinfulness is expiated in Purgatory flows down
and settles in the kingdom of sin.' I am inclined rather to suppose
the stream to consist of the tears of expiation ; the matter flowing
from Saturn to form the four great infernal rivers being unquestionably
tears, but tears of shame and mere human sorrow.
62 The grotesque element in the Hell.
upward path is rough, but issues in the boundless Ocean,
the reedy shore, the free air, the stars that gladden, and the
Mount that cleanses.
Some there are who, gazing upon Dante's Hell mainly
with their own eyes, are startled by the grotesque element
traceable throughout the Cantica as a whole, and shocked
at the even ludicrous tone of not a few of its parts. Others
seek rather to gaze on Dante's Hell with Dante's eyes ;
these discern in that grotesqueness a realized horror, in that
ludicrousness a sovereign contempt of evil. They keep in
mind that the mediaeval tone of thought bore fruit in the
grotesque heads of the lost outside cathedrals, and in a
spiritual humorousness which was by no means excluded
even from sermons ; yea, much more do they remember
that the Divine Eternal Wisdom Himself, the Very and
Infallible Truth, has, not once nor twice, characterized
impiety and sin as Folly; and they feel in the depths
of the nature wherewith He has created them that what-
ever else Folly may be and is, it is none the less essentially
monstrous and ridiculous. In this world of shadows they
see it so, in that world of substances they imagine no cause
why it should cease to be so ; nay why, amid the disen-
chantments of that atmosphere of Truth, it should not
rather be discerned as more so. A sense of the utter degra-
dation, loathsomeness, despicableness of the soul which by
deadly sin besots Reason and enslaves Free Will passes
from the Poet's mind into theirs ; while the ghastly definite-
ness and adaptation of the punishments enables them to
Dante s loathing of evil.
touch with their finger the awful possibility and actuality of
the Second Death, and thus for themselves as for others to
dread it more really, to deprecate it more intensely. Dante's
Lucifer does appear ' less than Archangel ruined/ immea-
surably less; for he appears Seraph wilfully fallen. No
illusive splendour is here to dazzle eye and mind into sym-
pathy with rebellious pride; no vagueness to shroud in
mist things fearful or things abominable. Dante's Devils
are hateful and hated, Dante's reprobates loathsome and
loathed, despicable and despised, or at best miserable
and commiserated. In the one solitary instance of Fran-
cesca da Rimini an unheedful reader might possibly sup-
pose the Poet to sympathize with lawless love ; but a
careful student will discern abhorrence of moral corruption
combined with compassion for sore temptation and griev-
ous suffering. If, in a few other exceptional cases, noble-
ness of character yet hangs about any of the lost, it is in
points wholly distinct from the sin which has been their
destruction. Dante is guiltless of seducing any soul of mar
towards making or calling Evil his Good.
CHAPTER VI.
DANTE'S PILGRIMAGE THROUGH HELL.
O tu die se' per quest' Inferno tratto.
O thou that art conducted through this Hell.
Inj. vi. 40.
WE left Dante at the moment when Virgil's cheering
speech had given him courage to enter on the
eternal world. The awful inscription over the Gate of
Hell, seeming to deny him hope, did indeed well-nigh
drive him back again; but a further word and touch
nerved him for the first sounds that struck upon his ear — •
the wailings of the Neutrals in the Ante-Hell : —
Here lamentations, sighs, and strident howls.
Resounded through the air without a star —
Whence I, at the beginning, wept thereat.
Differing tongues and horrid utterances,
And words of anguish and the tones of rage,
High and hoarse voices, and with them a sound
Of hands, a tumult made which circulates
Aye in that air without a season dyed,
Like to the sand whenas the whirlwind blows.
Inf. III. 22-30.
Instructed by Virgil, Dante, refraining from the full grati-
fication of his curiosity respecting these miserable caitiffs,
lest he should mitigate their sentence of hopeless obscurity,
Dante crosses Acheron into Limbo. 65
transferred his attention to the crowd gathering on the
brink of Acheron. Charon at first, seeing a living man, and
knowing him to be predestined to glory, commanded him
to withdraw from among the dead ; but Virgil had instant
recourse to a formula often needed and often in substance
repeated during this grisly descent :
So is it willed there where 's the power to do
That which is willed ; and thou demand no more.
Hi. 95, 96.
The boat then crossed with its mournful freight, Dante
remaining behind to be first enlightened and comforted
by his Master's explanation of the scene he had witnessed,
and of the true ground of Charon's refusal to ferry him
over; — then to feel the dark tear-soaked champaign quake
under his feet, and in a state of insensibility to be trans-
ferred, how he knew not, to the farther shore. His first
consciousness was of impenetrable mist, his second of
Virgil's sympathetic pallor, his third of the ceaseless sighs
which, proceeding from the vast multitudes of both sexes
and all ages that people Limbo, stir brooding stillness into
tremulous breeze.
Said the good lord to me : * Thou askest not
What Spirits may be these whom thou dost see ?
I will now, ere thou goest on, thou know
They did not sin : — and, if they had good works,
5Tis not enough, for baptism they had not,
The door unto the faith which thou believ'st :
And, if they were before Christianity,
They did not adequately worship God : —
And even of these same am I myself.
For such defaults, and not for other guilt,
F
66 Our Lord's descent into HelL
We're lost, and only are by thus much pained —
That in desire we live, but not in hope.'
Great grief, when I had heard him, took my heart,
Because I knew that people of much worth
Must be suspended in the limbo there.
' Do thou, my master, tell me — tell me, lord — '
Began I, for that I might so be sure
About that faith which conquers error quite,
' Went any ever hence, or by his own
Or other's merit, who was after blessed ? '
And he, who understood my covert speech,
Replied : ' In this condition I was new
When hither I saw come One Powerful
Incoronate with sign of victory.
He took from us the Primal Parent's Shade,
Abel his son's, and that of Noah too,
Of Moses, legist and obedient,
Abraham patriarch, and David king,
Israel, with his father and his sons,
And Rachel, her for whom he did so much ;
And others many : — and He made them blessed.
And I would have thee know that, before them,
There had not been a human spirit saved.'
iv. 31-63.
In prolonged converse Virgil and Dante passed through
the wood of ghosts till they drew near the home of the more
exalted Spirits ; and while Virgil was yet replying to his
follower's eager question-
In the mean time a voice was heard by me :
* The most high poet honour ye : his Shade,
Which had departed, is returning now.'
The School of Poets. 67
Whenas the voice was quiet and at rest,
I four great Shadows saw come unto us ;
Semblance had they nor sorrowful nor glad.
The noble master then began to say :
* Him with that sword behold thou in his hand,
Who comes, as it were sire, before the three :
That one is Homer, poet sovereign.
The other is Horace satirist who conies ;
Ovid the third ; and Lucan is the last.
Because that each one shares along with me
In the same name the single voice did sound,
They do me honour, and thereby do well.'
Assembled thus the goodly school I saw
Of him, the master x of the most high song,
Who o'er the others like an eagle flies.
When somewhat they together had discoursed,
They turned to me with gesture of salute ;
My master also smiling at the same.
And more they did me honour yet by much ;
For so they made me of their company
That I became, 'mid so much mind, the sixth.
Thus went we on as far as to the light,
Conversing matters which to hush is good,
As, where I was, the speaking them was so.
IV. 79-105.
After passing in review the dignified inhabitants of the
Castle, and being permanently ennobled in his own eyes by
1 ' It is questioned whether this " master " is Homer or Virgil. Chro-
nology and modern appreciation would conclude for the first. If we
consider the three companions of Homer to constitute the " school" to
the exclusion of Virgil, we may do the same : scarcely otherwise from
Dante's point of view.'
68 Francesca da Rimini: Ciacco.
the sight, he was led by another way back into the trem-
bling atmosphere. Thence passing the demon Judge Minos,
not unwarned by him, Dante found himself encompassed
with the stormy howling darkness of Circle II. Deep was
his compassion as Virgil pointed out among the victims of
Lasciviousness many who had peopled his memory and
imagination from childhood upwards — Semiramis, Dido and
Cleopatra, Helen and Achilles, Paris and Tristram. But
worse was to come. For here suffered a friend's kins-
woman, Francesca da Rimini, coupled with Paolo Malatesta
in the soul's death no less than in the body's. It is said
that, deceived by her father, she had given hand and heart
to this handsome accomplished youth, and all too late had
found that he was but proxy for her real husband, his
deformed and repulsive brother Gianciotto. As now, in a
lull of the tempest, she told how the sin of an unguarded
moment had been avenged by Gianciotto's hand, her
words and her lover's tears affected Dante to fainting ; as
one dead he fell to the earth, and on recovering conscious-
ness found himself already in Circle III. To Cerberus's
currish menaces Virgil deigned no reply save that of two
handfuls of earth cast into his cavernous jaws ; and the
Poets walked on, placing their feet on the limp shades of
the rain-drenched Gluttons. One of these, the Florentine
Ciacco, sitting up as he recognised a fellow-citizen, held
detailed converse with him respecting public and private
matters both past and future ; and excited his pity, though
not beyond an inclination to tears. The colloquy was
suddenly broken off by Ciacco losing the power of speech,
and dropping back flat into the slush, to emerge thence no
more till roused by the Last Trumpet.
Discourse concerning Fortune. 69
Having led his disciple, as always in Hell, towards the
left aiong an arc equal to the ninth part of the Circle,
on reaching the steps of descent Virgil had to repel the
resistance of Plutus before entering on Circle IV. Dante,
feeling some slight pricks of compassion, inquired respect-
ing its tenants, and expressed surprise at not recognising
any of the Misers and Spendthrifts he had known on earth.
This phenomenon and the nature of their punishment being
explained, Fortune and her dealings were thus discoursed
of for his comfort under impending spoliation and banish-
ment : —
* Thou now mayst see, my son, the transient puff
Of goods which unto Fortune are consigned,
For which the human race perturbs itself ;
For all the gold that is beneath the moon,
Or that once was, of these outweary souls
Could not make any one of them to pause.'
* Master,' I said to him, * now tell me still :
This fortune, whereon thou dost touch to me,
What is 't, that has the world's goods so in clutch ? ?
And he to me : ' How great that ignorance is,
0 foolish creatures, which encumbers ye !
1 '11 have thee now digest my text thereof.
The One Whose wisdom transcends everything
He made the heavens, and gave them who conducts,
So that to every part shines every part,1
Distributing the light coequally.
Unto the mundane splendours He alike
Ordained a general ministrant and chief,
1 Every part of Heaven to every part of Earth.
7O The bank of Styx.
Who should in time the vain possessions change
From race to race, from one to other blood,
Beyond preclusion of the human wits ;
Wherefore one people rules, one languishes,
All in accordance to the doom of her,
Which is occult, as in the grass the snake.
To her your wisdom has no hindering :
She doth provide, and judge, and prosecute
Her reign, as even theirs the other gods.
Her permutations have not any truce ;
Necessity constrains her to be swift,
So oft comes he who proves vicissitude.
And this is she who 's put on cross so much
Even by them who ought to give her praise,
Giving her wrongly ill repute and blame.
But she is blessed, and she hears not this :
She, with the other primal creatures, glad
Revolves her sphere, and blessed joys herself.
vii. 61-96.
It was now past midnight ; and time pressed. — The next
descent described is not by steps, but by the slope down
which Styx is flowing till it settles into the stagnant pool
that constitutes Circle V., and serves for a moat to the
fortified City of Dis. Here Dante saw the Wrathful tearing
each other piecemeal, and heard of the Melancholy buried
in the black mud at the bottom ; the only visible token of
their presence being the bubbling caused on the surface by
their sighs from beneath. The Poets, having walked along
a considerable arc of the space left dry between the solid
wall and the water, found themselves at last at the foot of
a tower, a kind of outwork of Dis, which could only be
reached by crossing the pool. Their gaze had already
The passage towards the City of Dis. 71
been attracted to the summit of this tower by the sudden
appearance of two flames, the demon-sentinels within
having taken them for condemned Souls who must be ferried
over to their allotted prison, and having therefore signalled
to certain comrades in Dis — who counter-signalled by a third
flame, on account of distance barely discernible — to send
the boat. It was soon seen almost flying towards them,
steered by the demon pilot Phlegyas, who having in life
vengefully burned the temple of Apollo, belongs to the
Impious no less than to the Wrathful. Furiously he exulted
in his supposed prey — sorely was galled at learning his mis-
take. He could not however avoid receiving into his
boat these unexampled passengers, the one of whom actu-
ally loaded it and depressed its prow.
While we were running over the dead sluice,
One did there get before me full of mud,
And said : ' Who 'rt thou who com'st before the hour ? '
And I to him : ' I stay not, if I come :
But who art thou, become so hideous ? '
' Thou seest,' he answered, ' that I 'm one which weep.'
And I to him : ' With weeping and with grief,
Accursed spirit, so continue thou ;
For thee I know, all filthy as thou art.*
He then upon the boat stretched both his hands :
Wherefore the master pushed him dextrously,
Saying : ' Away hence, with the other dogs ! '
He then embraced with both his arms my neck ;
He kissed my face, and said : * Indignant soul,
Blessed the woman who with thee was big t
72 Filippo Argenti.
This was a haughty person in the world j1
No good there is which decks his memory :
Thus is his spirit herein furious.
How many hold them now aloft great kings
Who here will have to be like pigs in slush,
Of themselves leaving horrible misfame.'
And I : * My master, greatly fain I were
To see him in a smother in this broth,
Before that we shall issue from the lake.1
And he unto me : ' Ere the landing-place
Shall let thee see it, thou'lt be satisfied :
Such wish it will behove that thou enjoy.'
Soon after this, I saw that massacre
Made, by the muddy people, of this man,
That God I still do therefore praise and thank.
* Upon Filippo Argenti ! ' all cried out :
The uncouth spirit of the Florentine
Turned with his teeth against himself himself.
vin. 31-63.
We really cannot help asking here, Is it possible to sym-
pathize with this delight of the disciple, or this rewarding
embrace of the Master? Can that be purely righteous
indignation which issues in conduct so much too like that
of the offender himself?
By this time the Poets were near enough to Dis to per-
ceive the sound of wailing and discern the mosque-shaped
fire-reddened turrets ; the pilot however had still to steer
some way round before reaching the point of disembarka-
1 * Filippo Argenti, stated by Boccaccio to have been noted for bodily
vigour and furious temper.'
Demons and Furies oppose the Poets. 73
tion. At the gates stood more than a thousand of those
rebel Angels aforetime rained down from Heaven, now
despitemlly saying among themselves, 'Who is this that
without death is going through the kingdom of the dead 1 '
In reply, the guiding Sage indicated his wish for a private
colloquy ; this was granted, but with a threat of retaining
him in the city while his pupil should retrace the way
alone. Dante, utterly disheartened, adjured his only helper
rather to relinquish the enterprise and instantly lead him
back to the land of the living ; but the answer forbade fear,
and enjoined assured confidence in the success of the God-
granted pilgrimage. In most anxious suspense he now
began to watch the parley he could not hear ; — but anon
the adverse demons hurried back into the fortress, shut-
ting the door in his leader's face. Yet Virgil, grieved and
humbled as he was, ceased not to infuse hope, grounded
on the certainty that One without guide or escort was
already traversing the Circles behind them to their aid;
though under the circumstances no entrance could be
effected without wrath.
And more he said : but I Ve it not in mind ;
Because I wholly had mine eye updrawn
Toward the high turret with the red-hot top ;
Where in an instant upright fast I saw
Infernal Furies three, bedyed with blood,
Who had their limbs and action feminine,
And who with greenest hydras were engirt :
They had small serpents for their hair, and asps,
Wherewith the savage temples were imbound.
And he, who well knew them the abject ones
Unto the queen of the eternal plaint,
74 J- he head of Gorgon displayed.
' Look,' said to me, ' the fierce Erinnyes.
Megaera this one is upon the left ;
That is Alecto on the right, who weeps ;
P the midst Tisiphone : ' and here he stopped.
Each one was harrowing with her nails her breast :
They clashed their palms, and cried so loudly out,
That to the poet I strained me, for dismay.
1 Let come Medusa ! So we'll make him smalt,' —
They, looking downwards, uttered all of them :
' On Theseus we revenged the assault not ill' x
' Turn thyself back, and keep thy vision hid ;
For, if the Gorgon show, and thou behold,
'Twould all be o'er with e'er returning up.'
So did the master say ; and he himself
Turned me, and to my own hands trusted not,
But that with his too he should cover me.
O you that have a sane intelligence,
Look ye unto the doctrine which herein
Conceals itself 'neath the strange verses' veil.
And now was coming o'er the turbid waves
A rumour of a sound replete with dread,
Because of which the banks were trembling both ,
Not made in other wise than of a wind
Impetuous by dint o' the adverse heats,
Which smites the forest without any stay,
Rends boughs, and beats them down, and bears along ;
Dusty to van ward, on it goes superb,
And makes the animals and shepherds flee.
He loosed mine eyes, and said : * Now turn the nerve
1 ' When Theseus and Pirithous attempted to carry Proserpine off
from Hell.'
The Celestial Messenger appears. 75
Of vision up along that ancient foam,
By yonder where that smoke is acridest.'
Like as the frogs before the hostile snake
Scud off along the water one and all,
Until upon the soil each of them squats, —
I saw more than a thousand Souls destroyed
Fly thus in front of one who at the ford
Was passing over Styx with unwet soles.
He from his face was moving that gross air,
Plying the left hand oftentimes in front,
And only with that anguish seemed he tired.
I well perceived he was one sent from heaven,
And to the master turned : and he made sign
I should stay quiet, and to him should bow.
Ah ! of disdain how full he to me seemed !
He reached the gate, and with a little wand
Oped it, that there was no impediment.
4 O ye cast out of heaven, a refuse race,'
Upon the horrible threshold he began,
* Whence nurtureth in you this insolence ?
Wherefore 'gainst that Volition do ye kick
To which its end can never be curtailed,
And which hath oft augmented pain to you ?
What booteth it to butt against the fates ?
Your Cerberus, if ye recollect it well,
Keeps yet therefrom his chin and throttle peeled.'
Then he turned back along the noisome path,
And word to us spoke none ; but semblance made
Of a man whom other care constrains and bites
Than that of him who is before his face.
And we toward the fortress moved our feet,
Secure in sequel of the holy words.
IX. 34-X05,
76 The entombed Souls in Dis.
Quite unopposed the Poets now entered Circle VI., the
City of Dis ; and Dante beheld it one vast burial-ground of
Infidel and Heretical Souls, bristling with tombs like the
cemeteries of Aries and Pola, but after a more bitter
fashion, these tombs being all red-hot from the action of
fires scattered up and down among them. Speaking the
Tuscan dialect as he passed along, he heard himself called
by a voice issuing from a sepulchre where lay more than a
thousand Epicureans, among them the Emperor Frederick
ii. The voice was that of the noble Florentine Farinata
degli Uberti, who nearly five years before Dante's birth
had as the Ghibelline leader defeated the Guelphs at
Montaperti, had returned in triumph from banishment, and
had then alone and successfully withstood his own party in
their parricidal desire to destroy their native city. Long
and deep was this patriot's converse with his fellow-citizen,
soon like himself, as he plainly predicted, to be an exile,
soon like his descendants, now in banishment, to experience
the difficulty of returning. Once indeed the discourse was
interrupted by Cavalcante de' Cavalcanti, buried in the same
sepulchre, starting up to ask news of his son, Dante's
friend Guido. His ignorance of the present, whereas Ciacco
had known the future,1 so perplexed his interlocutor as to
delay the answer; and the miserable father, attributing
this delay to unwillingness to tell him of his son's death,
sank down again in sorest grief. Farinata then took up
his own thread just where it had been broken off, and
having subsequently explained the mystery of the knowledge
of the lost, was intrusted with a message of information
and comfort to his fellow-prisoner; for Guido yet lived,
though fated soon to die.
1 See page 49.
The Blood- River and the Dolor OILS Wood. 7 7
The Poets, having traversed the breadth of Dis, now
stood on the edge of a kind of parapet guarding the central
Void. The stench rising from the lower Circles was here
so putrid as to compel them to seek temporary sheltei
behind a high tomb ; and the consequent delay in their
descent furnished opportunity for Virgil to instruct his pupil
in that classification of sins under the heads of Incontinence,
Bestialism, and Malice, with which the reader is already
familiar.
Twenty-two hours had by this time elapsed since the open-
ing of the poem — twelve in the Wood, ten in Hell ; Good
Friday was dawning on Earth, and further lingering might
not be ; wherefore the Pilgrims commenced their fright-
ful precipitous descent. The furious Minotaur beset theii
path, but only to be utterly contemned by Virgil, and by
blind raging to afford Dante an opportunity of getting down
unmolested till he stood close under the outer wall of
Circle VII., and beheld the ghastly Blood-river Phlegethon,
which forms its outmost Ring. His progress was opposed
by the Centaur Nessus; but Virgil's appeal to Chiron,
exempt by his birth and career on earth from the brute
violence of his race, obtained the opponent for a guide.
Many were the tyrants and blood-shedders of days recent
or long, long gone by, pointed out in the deeps of the
stream ; many indeed the petty oppressors and marauders
recognised in its shallows. Where the feet only were
covered was the ford, over which Nessus carried Dante on
his back, while Virgil cleft the air. They found themselves
in the Dolorous Wood, pathless, thicker set than the Tuscan
Maremma, its leaves dusky, its boughs knotty and twisted,
its sole product poison-distilling thorns : harpies its nest-
78 Pier delle Vigne and certain Spendthrifts.
building birds, its music their meanings blended with those of
the trees they prey upon. Virgil, desirous to undeceive his
pupil of the imagination that these moans proceeded from
persons hidden in the Wood — and also unable to resist the
temptation to establish as fact his own fiction of the bleed-
ing of the myrtle into which Polydorus had been metamor-
phosed,— suggested the plucking of a twig; but instantly
repented when blood sprang and sorest plaints issued from
the wounded tree — the prison-body of Pier delle Vigne,
Chancellor to the Emperor Frederick n. Envy, 'the
common death and vice of Courts/ had fastened her eyes
on this beloved and trusted counsellor till at length
she succeeded in maligning him to the cruel Prince his
master, by whom he was condemned to a course of torture
and ignominy, begun with blindness and destined to end in
death. That end however came far sooner than was in-
tended, for the victim himself dashed his head against his
prison-wall. He now found some comfort in detailing his
mournful history to such sympathizing listeners, while he
far more briefly answered their inquiries respecting the
state of the tree-bound Souls. The colloquy was at length
suddenly broken off by the precipitous flight of two hound-
hunted Shades of wanton, obstinate Spendthrifts, naked and
thorn-scratched, through the Wood. The one, Lano, had
rapidly wasted a rich patrimony, till at length, having fallen
into an ambush, he desperately rushed among enemies
fiom whom he might have escaped : — the other, Jacopo di
Sant' Andrea, is recorded to have thrown his money, coin
by coin, into the river, by way of something to do ; to
have set alight his tenants' cottages as a bonfire to welcome
his guests, and to have burned down his own magnificent
The Sand- Waste : the Blasphemers. 79
house in Padua as a spectacle to his fellow-citizens. This
hunted madman squatted under a bush, but was none the
less torn piecemeal by the hounds, the bush also coming in
for its share of suffering. It incorporated an unnamed
Florentine suicide, suspected by the commentators of
having killed himself to escape the poverty surely coming
upon a prodigal; and Dante, constrained by the love of
their common birthplace, complied with his request to have
his leaves gathered up and restored to him. — Soon the
Pilgrims found themselves on the confines of the Sand-
Waste, though still compelled to keep just within the Wood,
to avoid the scathing of the fire-flakes and the scorching of
the sand. Here among the supine Blasphemers they noted
the untam cable Capaneus; then passing beyond him reached
a spot where Dante descried, with a shudder renewed as in
after years he wrote of it, Phlegethon reappearing as a
boiling Blood-brook to traverse the desert plain. The
stream having petrified its bed and banks, he perceived
that there must lie the passage across ; yet lingered awhile
to hear of the origin of the Infernal Rivers. He then
followed his Guide along the stone embankment, the humid
exhalation spreading wide enough to extinguish instantly
whatever flames might fall upon it, and so preventing its
becoming heated like the sand. Already had the Poets
left the Wood too far behind to be discernible, when they
fell in with a troop of Shades walking. One of these, for
all the fire's scathing, was recognisable as Dante's old tutor,
Bnmetto Latini, eminent as politician, as philosopher, and
as author of the encyclopaedic Tesoro and the allegorical
Tesoretto. As no other contemporary record accuses him
of any crime, it has been thought that political motives
80 Geryon : the Usurers.
may have led to his location here; especially as he is
spoken of throughout the passage with tenderest reverence
and love. Side by side for a time tutor and scholar walked
and conversed, then once more parted company; and after
some further encounters the Pilgrims reached the point
where Phlegethon becomes an almost deafening torrent,
rushing down the central Void. Standing by its brink,
Dante was commanded to loose his cord-girdle ; and Virgil,
receiving it coiled, threw it down the precipice. Before
long the loathsome appalling monster Geryon came up and
landed his trunk on the stone dam, while his tail darted
about, sting upwards, in the hollow. — During the Master's
parley with him, the disciple went alone to gaze upon the
Usurers, who, seated along the edge of the sand, were fight-
ing off the burning heat with their hands as best they might.
Not one was recognised by his face, but heraldic bearings
on purses hanging from their necks afforded a clue for their
identification. These, bordering on Fraud both in offence
and in place, are in tastes and manners the meanest sinners
yet encountered : but plenty of their compeers will be met
with below. Dante, content, as Virgil had counselled, with
a passing glance at them, on retracing his few solitary steps
found his Leader already seated on the foul monster's back,
and with sinking heart and failing voice obeyed the order
to mount in front, so as to be shielded from too probable
tail-treachery. As soon as mounted he felt himself firmly
embraced, and heard a charge given to Geryon to descend
gradually, out of consideration for so unwonted a burden.
The downward course accordingly proceeded so gently that
the motion was rendered sensible only by the wind in the
rider's face and beneath him ; but it was a sore trial to see
Evilpits ; Jason, Thais, Pope Nicholas III. 8 1
nought save Geryon's form, hear nought save Phlegethon's
gurgling and plunging, and when at last eye and ear sought
to dive into the depth, perceive nought save fires and wail-
ings. Both riders were finally set down close under the
earth-wall ; the hateful beast shot away like an arrow from
a bow ; and Evilpits lay before them.
In Pit i they beheld Jason scourged for his successive
abandonment of Hypsipyle and Medea : — in Pit 2 Thai's
paying the penalty of her base flattery of Thraso. — Into Pit
3 Dante, whose curiosity was excited by the exceptional
sufferings of one of the imbursed Simoniacs, wished to
descend. The descent, as in every subsequent instance
save one, was effected by the Poets first crossing in its
whole length the bridge spanning the pit, and by Virgil
then carrying his pupil down — as afterwards again up — the
inner wall, which in each pit offers a more gradual slope
than the outer one. The tormented Soul proved to be that
of Pope Nicholas in., of the Orsini family. In giving
account of himself he severely reflected on the character
of the actual Pope Boniface vm. -,1 and foretold the far
fouler deeds of Clement v., later to be raised to the
Apostolic See through the intrigues of Philippe le Bel.
Dante retorted with a strong condemnation of the worldli-
ness which had crept into the Church through the Donation
of Constantine : — and was then carried up again by his
approving Master. — From the bridge-top was seen, in Pit 4,
a long, slow, silent, weeping procession of Soothsayers and
Witches, with necks wrung so completely round that the
tears streamed down their backs. Such utter degradation
1 Dante's judgment on both Nicholas and Boniface is said to be more
severe than that of other historians. (Venturi and Fraticelli, Inf. xix.)
G
82 The Diviners and the Barterers.
of the human image, borne by himself in common with
these reprobates, struck to Dante's inmost soul :
Certes I wept, leaning on one o' the crags
Of the hard rock, so that mine escort said
To me, ' Art thou too of the other fools ?
Here, when 'tis wholly dead, doth pity1 live:
For who can be more wicked than the man
Who has a passion for God's judgeship ? '
XX. 25-30.
After this gravest remonstrance the Master went on to
point out certain diviners of antiquity, till from naming
Manto he branched off into details concerning the origin of
his own native city Mantua. These ended, the continuance
of the procession brought under notice various mediaeval
sorcerers, among whom occurs the familiar name of Michael
Scott.
Good Friday was over by this time, and the sun of Holy
Saturday was rising on the Earth. Passing from bridge to
bridge, the Poets discerned through the marvellous obscurity
of Pit 5 the bubbling, swelling, and subsiding of the boiling
Pitch-lake. Soon a black Devil was seen to run along the
rocky chain, clenching the ankles of a Barterer slung across
his shoulder. Hurled down into the pitch this sinner soon
came up again, but was forthwith once more submerged by
the prongs of the Evilclaws. Virgil, whose mind apparently
misgave him that obstacles similar to those of Dis would
here arise, enjoined his charge to squat down for conceal-
ment behind a projecting edge of rock, while he himself
should seek a parley. His first step on the partition-wall
1 Pieta meaning both pity and piety, the sense of this line is : Here
piety lives when pity is wholly dead.
Virgil deceived by Evillail. 83
was the signal for a rush of prong-armed Evilclaws, who
however at his request deputed their chief, Eviltail, to hear
him.
* Bad-tail, dost them suppose thou seest me
Having come hither,' so my master spoke,
* Already safe from all defence of yours,
Without divine command and favouring fate ?
Let me proceed ; for it is willed in heaven
I show another on this salvage road.'
His pride was then so fallen that he let
His hook down-tumble to his feet, and said
Unto the rest : ' Now let him not be struck.'
And unto me my lord : ' O thou who sitt'st
Amid the bridge's boulders all asquat,
Return thou to me now securely back.'
Wherefore I moved, and quickly came to him ;
And forward, all of them, the devils came,
So that I feared they would not keep their pledge.
And so erewhile I saw the soldiers fear
Who covenanted from Caprona went,
Seeing themselves amid so many foes.1
XXI. 79-96.
So in fact it was; the seeming prohibition was a mere
trick, covertly conveying permission to wound him some-
what later; and the disciple proved now far more alive
than the Master to the impending danger. Eviltail lied on :
1 ' Caprona, a Pisan fortress, having capitulated to the Guelph con-
federates of Tuscany in 1290, the garrison filed out, when the hostile
soldiers clamoured (but only to frighten them) to have them hung.
Dante is believed to have served among the victors.'
84 Ten demons escort the Pilgrims.
' 'Twill not be possible to go
Further along this rock, because that all
The sixth arc's lying at its bottom smashed ;
And, onward if you still would please to wend,
Go up then by this cavern : there is nigh
Another rock, which makes a path along.
Five hours more on than this is, yesterday,
A thousand and two hundred sixty-six
Years finished since the path was broken here.
I 'm sending thither some of these of mine,
To see if any airs himself therefrom :
Go you with them, for they will not be froward.
XXI. 106-117.
Then he thus charged the ten selected for this mission :
Search ye the boiling bird-lime roundabout.
Let these as far as the next ledge be safe,
Which goes on all entire above the dens.
xxr. 124-126.
There was, in fact, no such line of bridges in existence, all
those which once spanned Pit 6 lying broken at its bottom :
— and the fiends, well knowing this, indulged in an under-
current of threatening gestures, not one of which was lost on
Dante. He begged hard to be spared any save the wonted
and trusty escort, but Virgil insisted that there was no
danger, and they all started.
With the ten demons we were going on—
Ah ! fell companionship ! But, in the church
With saints, and with the gluttons at the inn.
xxn. 13-15.
On their way they saw seated on the brink the Shade of a
former courtier of Theobald u., King of Navarre — Ciampolo,
The Hypocrites. 85
whose words and acts presently disclosed how great an
amount of trickery could be carried on by a Barterer even
in Hell. Two of the Evilclaws, baffled in their expectation
of tormenting him, at length fell foul of each other ; and
while the whole troop were intent on the scuffle, the Pil-
grims made good their escape down the partition-wall into
the next Pit. None too soon : — for the pursuing fiends
stood directly over them just as their feet touched the
bottom ; but all peril was past, the appointed officials of
Pit 5 being powerless to quit their field of action.
Already in Pit 6, the Poets found themselves in company
no longer with demons, but with Hypocrites. At first the
nature of their punishment was not apparent, but it was
soon explained by one of them, the Bolognese Catalano de'
Catalani, of the military and religious Order of Knights of
S. Mary, popularly nicknamed Frati Godenti, or Jolly Friars.
He, with his colleague Loderingo degli Andalb, had been
elected on account of seeming virtues to the office of Podesta
in a peculiarly troublous year at Florence, and had acted
with the grossest avarice, injustice, and violence. In this
Pit not only is courtesy observed — this we might perhaps
have expected; but, surprising as it may appear, truth is
spoken. — After marvelling over the degraded condition of
Caiaphas and his fellow-councillors, Virgil inquired whether
there was any opening that might afford him and his com-
panion exit into the next Pit ; and learned that he was very
near the point where, by clambering up the heaped ruins of
the bridge, he would find himself once more on a chain
thence to the end unbroken. Half-abashed and half-indig-
nant he resumed his functions, till quite restored to serenity
on approaching the pile he seized fast hold of his pupil
86 Thieves and Evil Counsellors.
from behind, and then impelled him upwards from crag to
crag. All panting, Dante sat down just as he touched the
top : but he was forthwith stirred up again, and soon was
vainly peering from the bridge into the thick darkness of
Pit 7. From the somewhat lower level of the wall-top how-
ever he managed to discern a worse than Libyan desert of
Thieves and Serpents, binding and bound, biting and
bitten, consuming and consolidating, bewildering and be-
wildered, men contracting into snakes, snakes expanding
into men : none might say whose was whose, or who was
who, or what was what : — fit emblem of the social state
when habitual contempt of the rights of property makes
change the sole unchanging condition. Among these
wretches no less than five Florentines were discovered.
Two other sinners were specially noticed as belonging by
the main course of their lives to the violent Robbers in
Circle VII., but weighed down to this lower depth each by
a single act of fraud : — Cacus the Centaur (probably now
demonized) by his driving Hercules' stolen cattle backwards
to falsify their track, and Vanni Fucci of Pistoja by his
sacrilegious theft from the sacristy of the Duomo of that
city — a crime for which an innocent man had very nearly,
if not actually, suffered.
Into Pit 8 it proved but too easy to see, for its flames
swarmed thick as fire-flies in the Tuscan valleys — those
'thieving flames' that swathe and conceal Evil Counsel-
lors. Awfully intense was the impression made on the
chief Intellect of his day by the doom of souls which,
endowed with gifts in some instances even comparable
to his own, had sinned as none could sin without those
noblest faculties.
Ulysses and Diomed: Guido of Montefeltro. 87
Then grieved I, and I now do grieve again
When I direct my mind to what I saw,
And more rein in my thought than I am wont,
Lest whither virtue guides it not it run ;
So that, if bounteous star or better thing
Gave me the good, myself pervert it not.
xxvi. 19-24.
Here two who had led the active life, Ulysses and Diomed,
burning together within a double-tongued winding-sheet,
were paying the penalty of the bereaved Deidamia, the
stolen Palladium, and the fatal Horse : — these two especi-
ally excited Dante's attention and interest, and at Virgil's
request Ulysses told the tale of his last voyage.1 — Here also
one who after the active life of a warrior had as a Fran-
ciscan turned to the contemplative life, Count Guido of
Montefeltro in the Apennines, is represented as bearing the
irreparable consequences of trusting to Absolution before-
hand for sin. His narrative is so painful that it is quite a
relief to know how little reason there is for believing it true.2
No authority save this passage so much as hints at the evil
counsel having been given ; Angeli, the historian of the
Assisi convent, evidently disbelieves, while Muratori the
critic indignantly rejects the story; and Dante himself in
his Convito unites with numerous contemporaries in wit-
nessing to the virtues of this ' most noble Latin.' 8 Muratori
indeed suggests political motives as not improbably furnish-
ing the key to the accusation. Under this protest let the
awful history, as related by the sufferer himself, be read.
1 See page 15.
2 G. Rossetti, Com. An. Riflessioni sul c. xxvii. — Fraticelli in loc.
8 Conv. iv. 28.
88 Guido retiring from the world.
' I was a man of arms, then cordelier,
Thinking, so girded, to have made amends ;
And certes my belief had come fulfilled,
Were 't not for the Arch-priest,1 whom evil seize,
Who put me back into my former wrongs :
And how and wherefore I will have thee hark.
The whiles I was the form of bones and pulp
My mother gave to me, my doings were
Not lion-like, but rather of the fox.
I knew precautions and clandestine ways,
Each one, and managed so the art of them
That forth the sound went to the end of earth.
When I beheld myself arrived at that
Part of mine age when every one would well
Lower the sails, and gather in the ropes,
That which before had pleased me pained me then,
And penitent I yielded, and confessed,
Alas me wretched ! and it would have served.
The sovereign of the modern pharisees,
Having a war near Lateran to wage,2
(And not with Saracens, nor yet with Jews,
Seeing his enemies were Christians all,
And none at Acre had been conquering,3
Nor merchandizing in the Soldan's land ),4
Regarded in himself nor charge supreme,
Nor holy orders, nor in me the cord
Which used to make more lean its girded ones ;
But, as within Soracte Constantine
Prayed Sylvester for cure from leprosy,6
1 ' Pope Boniface VIII.' 2 ' Against the Colonna family.'
3 ' As the Saracens had done in 1291.'
4 ' Like the renegade Christians.'
5 ' The legend ran that, in gratitude for a miraculous cure thus
effected on him by Pope Sylvester, Constantine endowed the pontiffs
with the government of Rome.'
Guido in sin and after death. 89
So unto me prayed this man, as his leach,
Thus from his haughty fever to be cured.
He asked me counsel ; and I held my peace,
Because his words appeared intoxicate.
And then said he : " Let not thy heart suspect :
I even now absolve thee ; teach me thou
How Penestrino l I may throw to earth.
I am able to lock up and unlock heaven,
And this thou knowest ; for the keys are two
The which my predecessor2 held not dear."
The weighty arguments impelled me then,
Where my resolve was silence, to the worse ;
And, " Since thou lav'st me, father," I replied,
" From that misdeed which I must fall in now,
Long promising, with short fulfilment, will
Make thee to triumph in the lofty chair."
Then, after I was dead, did Francis come
For me ; but one of the black Cherubim
Said to him : " Take him not, nor do me wronjj.
He must come down among my sorry folk,
Because he gave the fraudulent advice,
Whereafter at his hair I Ve been till now :
For who repents not cannot be absolved ;
Neither at once can one repent and will,
Because the contradiction bears it not."
Ah woful me ! how did I shake myself
Whenas he took me, saying, " Thou perhaps
Didst not imagine I was logic-learned."
He carried me to Minos ; and he writhed
Eight times his tail about his callous back,
And, after for great rage he 'd bitten it,
1 ' Where the Colonnas were still seated. '
8 Celestin v., who voluntarily abdicated the Papal throne.
9O Schismatics and Discord-breeders.
Said, " That 's a criminal of the thieving fire."
Wherefore where thou beholdest I am lost,
And rankle, going in this manner clothed.'
When he had thus made ending of his speech,
The flame in anguish took departure hence,
Writhing and brandishing its sharpened horn.
xxvii. 67-132.
Standing over Pit 9, Dante was reminded of the bloodiest
battlefields recorded in history. As he intently gazed on
a Shade split from the chin downwards, it spontaneously
made itself known as Mahomet, and after pointing out Ali
cleft from the chin upwards, set forth the sin and punish-
ment of the whole mutilated troop, and inquired of Dante
who he was, and why there. The answer came from Virgil,
awakening an amazement which for the moment suspended
the procession, and afforded opportunity for naming some
other Souls. Among these was Mosca degli Uberti, maimed
of both hands : — the suggester of the bloody revenge taken
by the Amidei for the slight put upon their kinswoman by
Buondelmonte, and so the introducer into Florence of the
Guelph-Ghibelline discord.1 The last comer was Bertrand
de Born, Viscount de Hautefort, whom historians accuse as
the inciter of the rebellion of Prince Henry (called * the
young King,' as having been already crowned) against his
father Henry n. of England. Here Dante himself shall
speak.
I remained to look upon the troop,
And saw a thing which I should be in fear,
Without more proof, of telling, I alone,
But that my conscience reassureth me,—
1 See page 26.
Bertrand de Born. 9 1
The good companion which emboldens man
Under the hauberk of its feeling pure.
I certes saw, and seems I see it still,
A trunk without a head proceeding, so
As went the others of the sorry flock.
And by the hair he held his truncate head,
In guise of lantern, pendulous in hand :
And that gazed on us, and it said, ' Oh me ! '
He of himself made light unto himself,
And they were two in one, and one in two :
How it can be He knows Who governs thus.
When he was right against the bridge's foot,
He raised, with all the head, his ann on high,
So to approach to us the words thereof, —
Which were : ' See now the troublous penalty,
Thou who go'st breathing, looking at the dead :
See whether any is so great as this.
And, for that thou mayst carry of me news,
I, know thou, am Bertrand de Born, the man
Who gave the young king ill encouragements.
I mutually made rebels son and sire :
Ahithophel made Absalom no more,
And David, with his wicked goadings-on.
Because I parted persons thus conjoined,
My brain, alas ! I carry parted from
Its principle which is in this my trunk.
So retribution is in me observed.'
The many people and the diverse wounds
Had made mine eyes intoxicated so
That they were fain to stay a-weeping. But
Virgil said to me : l What then starest thou on ?
92 Geri del Bello.
And wherefore prythee does thy vision bend
Down there among the mournful mangled shades ?
Thou hast not done so at the other pits.
Consider, if thou think'st to number them,
The valley turneth twenty miles and two :
Already too the moon's beneath our feet ;
The time is little now that 's granted us,
And there is more to see than thou believ'st.'
' An if thou hadst,' I thereon answered him,
* Attended to the cause for which I looked.
Perhaps thou 'dst yet have suffered me to stay.'
My guide was partly going now, and on
I went behind him, making the reply,
And saying furthermore : ' Within that fosse
Whereon so steadfastly mine eyes I set
I think a spirit of my blood doth weep
The guilt which costeth there-adown so much.'
Then said the master : ' Do not let thy thought
Be stumbling from henceforward upon him.
Elsewhere attend, and there let him remain :
For I beheld him at the bridge's foot
Point thee, and with his finger threaten hard,
And heard him named Geri del Bello. Thou
Wast so entirely at the time engrossed
With him who held aforetime Hautefort
Thou thither lookedst not, so he was gone.1
' Alas ! my lord, the death by violence
Which is not yet avenged to him,' said I,
' By any that is consort in the shame,
Made him disdainful ; therefore went he off,
As I conceive, without addressing me,
And so he's made me piteous towards him more.'
xxvin. 112-142. xxix. 1-36.
The Falsifiers. 93
This Geri del Bello, related to Dante on the father's side,
had been killed in a quarrel with one of the Sacchetti ; and,
according to the barbarous theory of the day, had a right
to expect his kindred to carry on the blood-feud. Dante's
non-compliance with this usage, and excuse notwithstanding
of his kinsman, are perhaps the sole instances recorded in the
Poem of his exercising the virtue of Meekness as opposed
to Vindictiveness. Fearful enough was his experience of
the woes entailed by blood-feuds upon his city. In the
Purgatorio we probably have a further hint of his sentiments
on this subject.1
But already the Pilgrims stood directly above the Tenth
and last Pit, which might have been taken for a hospital
wherein all the malaria patients of the worst districts and
worst season of Italy were massed together. Dante's ears
were quickly stopped with his hands, so piteous were the
groans that pierced them ; and his eyes and nose might well
have been also stopped from sights and smells no less offen-
sive. Among the leprous Alchemists were distinguished
two seated back to back, Griffolin d' Arezzo and Capoc-
chio ; among the mad False-Personators Gianni Schicchi,
who counterfeiting in semblance a man already dead, but
not yet known to be so, had made in his name a fraudulent
will; among the fever-stricken Liars Potiphar's wife, and
Sinon the Greek of Trojan infamy ; among the dropsical
Coiners Mastro Adamo of Brescia, who for alloying the
golden florin had been burned to death by the Florentine Go-
vernment. Between this last and Sinon a sudden skirmish
took place, keen and brisk in word and blow ; and proved,
in the Sage's judgment, far too amusing to his pupil.
1 See page 134.
94 Dante reproved by Virgil.
To listen to them I was wholly fixed,
When ' Look now,' unto me the master said,
' That I am all but quarrelling with thee.'
Whenas I heard him speak to me in wrath,
I turned towards him with so much of shame
That in my memory it whirleth still.
And, as is he who dreams of his mischance,
Who, dreaming, wishes that it were a dream,
And longs so, as 'twere not, for that which is ;
Such I became, incapable to speak,
Who wished to make excuse, and all the while
Excused myself, and thought not that I did.
' Less shame will wash a greater foible out,'
The master said, ' than that which thine has been :
Therefore unlade thyself of all distress.
And reckon that I 'm always at thy side
If yet it happen fortune catches thee
Where there are people in a broil like this ;
For wishing to hear that 's a base desire.'
xxx. 130-748.
And now in silence they were crossing the parapet of the
last portion of the awful Void, here probably about 35
feet deep : when lo ! a horn sounded with a blast of force
to hoarsen loudest thunder. Peering through the twilight,
along the edge of the wide embankment Dante beheld
what he took for many high towers ; Virgil however
quickly informed him that these were no towers, but Giants
disposed at intervals all round the well, so that about half
their person was visible above its brink, and half concealed
within.1 Fear came on Dante as error fled ; but soon he
1 Ampere ( Voyage Dantesque, 277, quoted by Longfellow, note on
inf. xxxi. 59) computes the height of Nimrod at 70 feet.
,
Caina and Antenora: Traitors. 95
learned how little there was to fear from creatures either
powerless or not inclined to harm. Nimrod howled a
Babel or pre-Babel jargon which sounded threatening, but
made no objection when Virgil reminded him of the horn
through which he might vent his rage; Ephialtes, appa-
rently worse disposed, was chained, as was also Briareus ;
while Tityus and Typhoeus would presumably, if applied
to, have been moved by desire of fame to assist the Pil-
grims, and Antaeus from this motive actually was induced
to take them up in a bundle where they stood, and then
bending forwards set them down at the foot of the ninth
and last earth-wall, on the brink of the frost-bound pool
Cocytus. It seemed a bason of glass, not water ; its ice so
hard that the fall of a mountain would have failed to make
even the edge creak. — In its outmost Belt Caina, among
other Betrayers of kindred, two wretched brothers, Ales-
sandro and Napoleone degli Alberti, mutual fratricides on
account of their patrimony, were seen frozen head to head
by the hair. — Next came Antenora :
Then did I see a thousand faces made
Doglike by cold ; whence shuddering to me comes,
And always will come, for the frozen fords.
And, while we were proceeding toward the midst
Whereunto every weight doth concentrate,
And I was trembling in the eternal dark,
Whether 'twas will, or destiny, or hap,
I know not ; but, in walking through the heads,
I struck my foot hard in the face of one.
On me he weeping cried : * Why poundest me ?
Unless thou com'st the vengeance to increase
For Mont' Aperti, why dost me molest ? '
xxxii. 70-81.
g6 Bocca degli Abati.
This reprobate was Bocca degli Abati. a Florentine
Guelph who at the battle of Montaperti had actually
for Ghibelline gold cut off the arm of his own party's
standard-bearer, and so brought on its defeat
And I : ' My master, now await me here,
That I may get out of a doubt by him :
Then thou shalt hurry me howe'er thou wilt.'
The leader stopped : and unto him I said,
Who in the mean while kept blaspheming hard,
' Who art thou who revil'st another thus ? '
' Now, who art thou who go'st through Antenore,
Striking,' he answered, ' on another's cheeks,
So that, were I alive, 'twere overmuch ? '
' Alive am // and, if thou askest fame,
It may be dear to thee,' was my response,
* That I should put thy name 'mong other notes.'
And he to me : 'I wish the contrary :
Arise herefrom, and give me irk no more,
For ill know'st thou to flatter in this plain.'
Then took I hold upon him by the scalp,
And said : ' 'Twill have to be thou name thyself
Or that no hair remain to thee hereon.'
Whence he to me : ' For thine unhairing me,
I '11 neither tell nor show thee who I am,
If on my head thou fall a thousand times.'
I had in hand his hair already twined,
And I had plucked more than one lock of it,
He barking with his eye concentred down,
When cried another : * Bocca, what dost want ?
Is 't not enough for thee to sound thy jaws
Unless thou bark'st ? What devil touches thee ?:
Count Ugolino. 97
' Now,' said I, ' I Ve no wish for thee to speak.
Flagitious traitor ; for, unto thy shame,
I '11 carry of thee veritable news.'
xxxii. 82-111.
But the horror of horrors was yet to come. Just where
Antenora confines with Ptolemsea protruded a head frozen
in one hole with another head, but above it, gnawing and
gnawing it. The gnawer was the Pisan . Count Ugolino
della Gherardesca, whose attributed but not attested crime
was the having sold to Florence and Lucca certain castles of
Pisa ; the gnawed was his traitorous friend, Archbishop Rug-
gieri degli Ubaldini, through whose abhorred machinations
he, with two sons and two grandsons,, had been starved to
death in a tower called subsequently the Tower of Famine.
At Dante's entreaty
That sinner from the savage meal his mouth
Uplifted, wiping it upon the hair
Of the head which he 'd wasted from behind.
Then he began : ' Thou 'dst have me to renew
Desperate grief, which presses on my heart
Now only thinking, ere I speak of it.
But, if my words may be a seed to yield
Infamy to the traitor whom I gnaw,
Thou shalt behold me speak and weep at once.
I know not who thou art, nor by what mode
Thou 'rt come down hither : but a Florentine
Thou, when I hear thee, seem'st to me in truth.
I was Count Ugolino, thou must know,
And he Archbishop Roger : now will I
Tell wherefore I 'm a neighbour like to this.1
1 ' Why I am such a bad neighbour to Ruggieri (by devouring his head}/
H
98 Ugolino tells of his dream,
That, by the effecting of his evil thoughts,
Confiding in him, I was captured,
And after done to death, I need not tell.
Nevertheless, what thou canst not have heard, —
That is, how much my death was cruel, — thou
Shalt hear, and know whether he 's injured me.
A scanty opening within the mew
Which has from me the name of Famine, and
Wherein it needs that others too be shut,
Had shown me through its loophole several moor s
Already, when I had the evil sleep
Which rent away for me the future's veil
Master and lord this man unto me seemed,
Chasing the wolf and wolf-cubs to the mount
Because of which the Pisans see not Lucca.1
\Vith bitches lean, and eager, and well-trained,
He had Gualandi, with Sismondi and
Lanfranchi,2 stationed in the front of him.
In little course, the father and the young
Seemed to me tired, and with the sharpened fangs
I seemed to see the flanks of them ripped up.
When I before the morrow was awake,
Weeping amid their sleep I heard my sons
Which were along with me, and asking bread.
Sure thou art cruel if thou grievest not
Already, thinking what was told my heart ;
And, if thou weep'st not, when art wont to weep ?
We now were wakened, and the hour approached
When food was customed to be brought to us,
And each was doubting, on his dream's account :
And I heard locked the exit underneath
1 ' Mount San Giuliano, which stands between the two cities.1
3 ' Three of the Ghibelline auxiliaries of the Archbishop. '
and of his death by starvation. 99
The horrible turret ; whereupon I looked
) n my sons' faces, saying not a word.
I wept not, I so petrified within :
They wept ; and said my Anselmuccio, " Thou,
Father, art looking so ? How is 't with thee ? "
I shed no tear, however, nor replied
The whole of that day, nor the after night,
Till issued in the world the other sun.
Whenas some little ray had got itself
Into the painful dungeon, and I marked
My selfsame aspect upon faces four,
I bit for anguish into both my hands :
And they, supposing I did that for need
Of eating, of a sudden raised themselves,
And said : " 'Twill give us, father, much less pain
If us thou eat'st of : thou induedst us
This miserable flesh, and doff it thou."
I, not to make them sadder, stilled me then :
That and the next day we remained all dumb ;
Ah ! hardened earth, why openedst thou not ?
When to the fourth day we were come, before
My feet, distended, Gaddo threw himself,
Saying, " My father, why not give me help ? "
Herewith he died ; and, as thou seest me,
I saw the three fall one by one, between
The fifth day and the sixth : whereat I took,
Already blind, to groping over each,
And three days called them after they were dead
Then fasting more availed than sorrowing.'
When he had spoken this, with eyes askew
He took again the wretched skull with teeth
Which like a dog's upon the bone were strong.
XXXIII. I-7&
i oo Ptolemcza : Frate A Iberigo.
And Dante, with bleeding heart and burning lips invoking
vengeance on Pisa, passed from the edge into the Belt of
Ptolemaea. Here not only the supine posture of the lost
made concealment impossible, but the tears, congealing
even as they sprang, blocked up the cavity of the eye with
ice which, while permitting sight, greatly increased torment
by stopping up the vent of pain.
And, notwithstanding that, as from a corn,
Every feeling, by the cold's effect,
Had ceased its lodgment in my countenance,
I ne'ertheless appeared to feel some wind ;
Whence I : ' My master, who is moving this ?
Below here is not every vapour quenched ? '
And he to me : ' Thou shalt anon be where
The eye shall give thee answer as to that,
Seeing the cause which raineth out the blast.'
And one o' the mournful of the freezing rind
Cried unto us : « O Spirits cruel so
As that the final post is given ye,
Take from my face the hardened veils, that I
May vent the sorrow which impregns my heart
A little, ere again the weeping freeze.'
Whence I to him : ' If thou wouldst have mine aid,
Say who thou wast ; and if I free thee not,
To the ice's bottom let me have to go.'
xxxiii. 100-117.
Alas for Dante ! twice we have mourned him wrathful,
this time far more deeply mourn him false ; for this promise
made to the ear was to be broken to the hope, inasmuch as
he actually wished and prayed now to go to the bottom of
The entrance on Judecca. 101
the ice. — The Shade went on to name himself Frate
Alberigo (of the same order of ' Frati Godenti ' as the two
Hypocrites met with in Circle VIII., Pit 61), and to refer
obscurely to the horrible treachery by which he had mur-
dered his guests at a banquet. Dante, all unknowing of
his death, questioned him in surprise, and was informed
that Ptolemsea has the ' advantage ' of receiving instantly
on the consummation of the traitorous deed the traitor's
soul, which thenceforward remains utterly ignorant how
long, demon-informed, the body walks the earth, and at
what moment, demon-deserted, it is buried. Alberigo went
on to cite, as perhaps a case in point, that of Branca d'
Oria close behind him ; and after answering his listener's
amazed doubts with a further asseveration of the fact,
claimed at length the looked-for relief.
1 But hither now betimes stretch out thine hand, —
Open, mine eyes.' — And them I opened not,
And to be rude to him was courtesy.
xxxiii. 148-150.
The Pilgrims set foot on the Belt Judecca : and now —
* Vexilla Regis prodeunt 2 Inferni
Toward us : therefore look in front of thee,
My master said, ' if thou discernest him.
As, at the time when breathes a heavy fog,
Or when our hemisphere is under night,
Appears from far a mill which wind doth turn,
1 See p. 85.
2 Thus begins the Vespers Hymn for Passion-tide ; Virgil adds * In-
ferni,' so that the meaning here is, 'The banners of the King of Hell
advance.: '
I o 2 The gaze on L ucifer^
Meseemed to see then such an edifice :
Then, for the wind, I strained me up behind
My leader, for no other cave l was there.
Already was I (and with fear I put
It into metre) where the Shades were all
Covered, and like a mote in glass showed through.
Down some are lying ; others stand erect, —
That with the head, and with the foot-soles that :
Another, as a bow, inverts toward
The feet the visage.
When so far we 'd got
As that my master pleased to show to me
The Creature which had had the noble form,
He from before me moved, and made me stay,
Saying : ' Behold here Dis, and here the place
Where it befits thou arm with fortitude.'
Thereat how frozen I became, and hoarse,
Ask it not, reader, for I write it not,
For little would be every utterance.
I died not, and I did not keep alive ;
Think for thyself now, if thou 'st flower of wit,
What I became, deprived of one and both.
xxxiv. 1-27.
Within the deep Dante stood gazing upon the deep,
within the deep of the material Hell upon the deep of the
moral Hell, the form of Lucifer : and in that gaze he knew
what Beatrice had sent him there to learn — what Sin is, and
what it works, and what it suffers in soul and body.
N-r
The Lamentable Kingdom's Emperor
Issued from out the ice with half his breast ;
1 ' No other shelter.'
the Hell- Emperor. 10;
And with a giant more do I compare
Than with his arms do giants : therefore see
How great must be that whole which corresponds
Unto a part so fashioned. If he was
As beautiful as he is ugly now,
And raised his brows against his Maker, sure
All sorrowfulness must proceed from him.
Ah ! how great marvel unto me it seemed
When I beheld three faces to his head !
The one before, and that was vermeil-hue :
Two were the others which adjoined to this,
Over the midst of either shoulder, and
They made the joining where the crown is placed.
And between white and yellow seemed the right ;
The left was such an one to be beheld
As come from there wherein the Nile is sunk.
There issued under each two mighty wings,
Such as 'twas fitting for so great a bird :
I never saw the sails of shipping such.
They had not feathers, but the mode thereof
Was like a bat's ; and these he fluttered so
That from him there was moved a threefold wind :
Cocytus all was frozen over hence.
With six eyes wept he, and three chins along
The weeping trickled, and a bloody foam.
At every mouth he shattered with his teeth
A sinner, in the manner of a brake,
So that he thus made woful three of them.
The biting for the foremost one was nought
Unto the scratching, for at times the spine
Remained of all the skin completely stripped.
* That Soul above which has most punishment
Is,' said my lord, ' Judas Iscariot,
Who has his head within, and outside plies
IO4 The passage of the Centre of Gravity.
His legs. O' the other two, whose head is down,
Brutus is he who from the black head hangs ;
See how he writhes, and does not speak a word :
The other 's Cassius, who appears so gaunt.'
xxxiv. 28-67.
But now the Master might release the disciple from his
awful contemplation; the night of Holy Saturday was
setting in, and nought else remained to see.
I, as it pleased him, did embrace his neck,
And he took vantage of the time and place ;
And, when the wings were opened far apart,
He caught upon the shaggy ribs. From tuft
To tuft he afterwards descended down
Between the thick hair and the frozen crusts.
When we had got thereunto where the thigh
Turns just upon the thickness of the haunch,
The leader, with fatigue and anguishing,
Turned round his head to where he had his shanks,
And grappled to the hair as one who mounts,
So that I thought I back returned to Hell.
' Now hold on well ; for by such stairs as these,'
The master, panting like a tired man, said,
* It needs from so much ill that we depart.'
Then forth through a stone's orifice he came,
And put me down to sit upon the brink :
He set toward me then his wary step.
I raised mine eyes, and thought I should have seen
Lucifer as I 'd left him just, and I
Beheld him holding upperward his legs.
And whether I became then travailed let
The grosser folk conceive, which seeth not
What was the point that I had overpassed-
Dante propounds three perplexities. 105
' Rise up,' the master said, ' upon thy feet ;
The way is long, and sorry is the road,
And now the sun returns to half of three.' x
'Twas not the pathway of a palace there
Where we were passing, but a natural cell
Which had soil evil, and no ease of light
* Or ever I do pluck me from the abyss,
My master,' said I, when I was erect,
1 A whit, to loose from error, speak to me.
Where is the ice ? And how is this one stuck
So topsy-turvy ? And in time so scant
How has the sun from evening passed to morn ? '
xxxiv. 70-105.
These inquiries the Master answered as we, knowing
beforehand the plan of Dante's Universe, can answer for
ourselves. The Poets had cleared the centre of gravity
when Virgil had struggled so hard in turning ; they were
now sitting on the earth which forms, so to say, the reverse
of the ice-medal Judecca ; in opposite hemispheres morning
corresponds to evening ;
* And this who makes our staircase with his fell
Is still so planted as he was at first.
Downward in this part did he fall from Heaven ;
And here the earth, which did before project,
Made of the sea, for fear of him, a veil,
And came unto our hemisphere ; and that
Which there appears, and upward rushed, perchance
To flee from him, left vacant here the place.'
xxxiv. 119-126.
1 ' To the half of three hours from the Jewish third hour, i.e. to an
hour and a half before noon.'
1 06 The ascent through the Earth.
And now they have but to ascend.
Down there 's a place, remote from Belzebub
As great a distance as the tomb l extends,
Which not by sight is known, but by the sound
Made by a runnel which descendeth here
By a stone's hole which it has eaten out
During the course it turns ; and little this
Impends. My guide and I by that hid path
Entered to turn again to the clear world :
And, having not a care of any rest,
We mounted up, he first and second I,
So far that I, through a round opening, saw
Some of the beauteous things which heaven contains :
And hence we came to re-behold the stars.2
xxxiv. 127-139.
1 'The "tomb" appears to be the entire hollow of Hell from its en-
trance down to Lucifer. If so, the "place remote from Belzebub"
(Lucifer) is the entire space between him and the exit from Hell. Or
possibly the tomb is the well or space leading down from the giants to
Judecca and Lucifer; in which case the "place" is the particular
spot from which Dante now proceeds on his way to Purgatory.'
a ' The word stars (stelle) ends all the three parts of the Commedia '
THE PURGATORY
(To face Chap. VII.)
CHAPTER VII.
THE PURGATORY.
Ove 1'umano spirito si purga.
Wherein the human spirit doth purge itself.
Pur. i. 5.
PURGATORY is placed by Dante on the highest
mountain in the world, the only land in the Water-
hemisphere ; an island in the form of an elevated cone
blunted at the top, its skirts within the Sphere of Air, its
heights within the Sphere of Fire, its transitional confine
the Gate of S. Peter, its crown the Terrestrial Paradise.
The shores are washed by the vast Western Ocean, across
which, from the time of our Blessed Lord's Descent into
Hell — till when Dante supposes all the Elect to have gone
down to Limbo — comes flying ever and anon the earless,
sailless, Angel-piloted bark that bears the blessed freight
of such Souls as, departing in grace, await not on Acheron's
but on Tiber's banks the signal for their supreme voyage.
For no disembodied Soul but is gathered to one or other of
these two streams ; and there, all its inferior faculties in
abeyance, but Will, Memory, and Understanding far keener
than before, attracts and moulds its surrounding air into the
shade-body which is thenceforth till the Resurrection to
constitute its medium of feeling and expression. In form
precisely resembling the fleshly tabernacle so lately put off,
loS Symbolism of the Western Island.
and organizing for itself corresponding senses, this aerial
unsubstantial body, incapable of fleshly needs, is yet capable
of the pains, as hunger and thirst, which accompany them ;
of speech and laughter also, of sighs and tears, and of
whatever outward signs betoken inward sensation or affec-
tion. And Dante imagines that the Angelic boatman ever
visiting the mouth of the Tiber himself selects his succes-
sive freights of Shades, leaving some and taking others
according to his will, which is the reflection of the just Will
of God.
As no unbending or leaf-bearing plant could live under
the beating of the waves, the low wet shore of the Island
grows reeds, and reeds alone; fit type of the humility
which, giving way under the rod, finds it to be for correc-
tion and not for destruction. So likewise, the moment a
reed is plucked it springs afresh ; for virtues and means of
salvation waste not in the using.1
And because on the Mount is the healing of moral cor-
ruption, its slopes are irradiated by the constellation of the
Southern Cross (probably known to Dante through the
Catalogue of Ptolemy), whose four stars meetly symbolize
the moral virtues of Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and
Temperance. By these even unchristened Man, albeit
dubiously and fitfully, may steer his course through this
present world ; and so Virgil, the impersonation of Human
Science, is still the guide, though oftentimes the hesitating
guide, even to the summit of the steep ascent. Sore office
for a dweller in Limbo, seeing the sojourners in Purgatory
are his fellows in the pain of loss, his worse than fellows
in the pain of sense : yet how should he not at every step
1 Fraticelli, note on Pur. I. 135.
Cato the Warden. The Mountain's base. 109
fathom the fathomlessness of the great gulf fixed between
the Prisoners of Hope and the Prisoner of Hopelessness?
Yea, and far more for that the Warden of the Mount is Cato
of Utica, brought forth from that same Limbo under the
law of leaving behind the affections 'that bound him there ;
and — perhaps for his rigid virtue and preference of death
to slavery — set over the world where Spirits by energy and
suffering pass out of the last remnants of the bondage of
corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.1
The base of the Mountain is the haunt of Souls which,
repenting in their last moments, have yet departed under
the censures of the Church. These have to expiate each
year of deferred penitence with thirty years of deferred
Purgatory; except — and this holds good of every Soul before
and during every stage of cleansing — delay be shortened by
1 Dante most distinctly states (Par. xix. 103-105) that none des-
titute of faith prospective or of faith retrospective in Christ ever did
or ever will enter Heaven. Yet he places Cato of Utica in Purgatory
as a saved soul awaiting a glorified body, and already no prisoner, but
a ruler : — and he does so without any such explanation as he gives
(Par. XX., see pp. 246, 247) in the cases of Trajan and Ripheus. How
is this ? I am tempted to refer to a slight communication made by my
brother W. M. Rossetti to Notes and Queries. In the English trans-
lation of the mediaeval treatise entitled Cursor Mundi, Dionysius Cato,
a writer of uncertain faith and date, is obviously confounded with one
of the two Roman Catos ; and is thus (in substance) spoken of : * Cato,
although a pagan, never either spoke or wrote a/ught contrary to the
Christian faith. He is invariably in accord with Holy Writ : he who
follows Cato's precepts follows those of the Bible. The Holy Ghost,
"by reason," seemed to be in Cato. God grant us grace to follow
Cato's precepts, and to be his companions where he dwells.' — This
looks as if the author or translator, or both, of this curious old book
regarded Cato as having a sort of pre-intuition of Christianity. If so,
may there not have been, in the Middle Ages, some kind of floating
tradition to that effect? and might not this possibly account for Dante's
exempting him from Hell ? (Notes and Queries, 4th S. ii. 229. )
no Ante- Purgatory: three stages.
pious prayers on earth. For ampler satisfaction is made
to the Divino Justice by love than by time : wherefore one
moment of intense supplication may obtain the remission
of years of lingering.
Respecting the Mountain itself these two points may be .
premised : — that the ascent, at first all but too narrow and
too steep to be scaled at all, becomes gradually easy and
delightful as progress is made ; and that not one upward
step can ever be taken after sunset. * The night cometh,
when no man can work/ 1
Above the base rise the skirts — within the Sphere of Air,
therefore subject to atmospheric vicissitudes; and below
the Gate of S. Peter, therefore affording no means of
purgation,
On the winding terrace of this Ante-Purgatory are dis-
tinguished three successive stages, haunted by three more
classes of tardy penitents, who having unlike those at the
base died in communion with the Church, are detained only
during a period corresponding to that of their delay on earth.
The first class comprises those who from negligence put
off their conversion to their deathbed : — the second those
who, dying by violence, and sinners up to their last hour,
repented and forgave after the death-stroke was received :
— the third those Princes and Rulers who postponed piety
and let slip opportunities of good through absorption in
earthly interests and love of earthly greatness ; these last
pass the night in a grassy flowery dell in the mountain-side,
in colour all one glow, in odour all one fragrance. — The
denizens of this whole lower region seem not yet entirely
freed from sinful infirmities, neither is their peace untinged
1 S. John ix. 4.
The Gate of S. Peter. 1 1 1
with care and fear : such as rest sit down under a sense of
the hopelessness of making any real progress upward ; such
as walk chant Miserere as they go ; such as converse need
and impart consolation; such as humbly dreading the
Adversary watch for the nightfall, greet it with the Compline
hymn sung with accordant voices and lifted eyes, and
are answered by the descent of Guardian Angels, green-
winged and robed for hope, golden-haired and radian t-
visaged for glory, with fiery swords against the lurking
Serpent, with blunted swords towards the reposing Elect,
falcons to watch, falcons to fly, moved swifter than seen to
move. And as the day is ruled by the Southern Cross of
fourfold virtues, so the night by the Alphas1 of threefold
graces, Faith, Hope, and Charity.
Immediately above the termination of the winding ter-
race, on the frontier of the Sphere of Fire, the Gate of S.
Peter firmly set in a cleft of the rock gives or bars access to
Purgatory Proper, and so ultimately to the Terrestrial and
the Celestial Paradise. The approach to the Gate is by
three steps : the first of white marble polished into a mirror ;
the second of inky-purple stone, rough and calcined, split
both lengthwise and athwart ; the third of flaming blood-
red porphyry. On this rest the feet of him who sits on the
adamantine threshold — a dazzling Angel in clothing of
ashen hue, having in his hand a drawn flashing sword,
under his robe a golden and a silver key, both equally
requisite for opening the Gate ; the golden the more pre-
cious, the silver, as that which unlocks the inmost wards,
demanding more skill in its employment. These were
committed to him by S. Peter, with a charge rather to err
1 The Alphas of Eridanus, of the Ship, and of the Golden Fish.
I
ii2 The Gate is the Tribunal of Penance.
towards prostrate supplicants in opening than in keeping
closed. But he who should enter and look back would find
himself once more without. ' No man, having put his
hand to the plough and looking back, is fit for the King-
dom of God.' *
At this point it is indispensable to refer to Dante's own
account of his Commedia : * The subject of all the work,
accepted literally only, is the state of souls after death
taken simply; because respecting it and around it the
process of all the work revolves. But if the work is accepted
allegorically, the subject is Man, in so far as by free-will
meriting and dementing, he is amenable to the justice of
reward and punishment.' 2 Therefore, as in the Hell are
set forth the moral and penal effects of sin in this world as
well as in the world to come, so and yet more in the Pur-
gatory the undoing of those effects, and the formation of
habits of virtue in life as well as after death. Contemplated
through the medium of this statement, the Mount and the
things of the Mount from base to summit are plainly seen.
We need hardly be told that the Gate of S. Peter is the
Tribunal of Penance, for post-baptismal sinners the tran-
sitional confine between the irresolute who in the muta-
bility of passion and sensation linger without the Kingdom
of Heaven, and the violent who in the immutability of a
steadfast will take it by force. The triple stair stands re-
vealed as candid Confession mirroring the whole man, mourn-
ful Contrition breaking the hard heart of the gazer on the
Cross, Love all aflame offering up in Satisfaction the life-
blood of body, soul, and spirit :— the adamantine threshold-
1 S. Luke ix. 62.
8 Epistle to Can Grande della Scala, 7.
Construction of Purgatory proper. 1 1 3
seat as the priceless Merits of Christ the Door, Christ
the Rock, Christ the sure Foundation and the precious
Corner-Stone. In the Angel of the Gate, as in the Gospel
Angel of Bethesda, is discerned the Confessor; in the
dazzling radiance of his countenance the exceeding glory of
the ministration of righteousness ; in the penitential robe
the sympathetic meekness whereby, restoring one overtaken
in a fault, he considers himself lest he also be tempted ; in
the sword the wholesome severity of his discipline ; in the
golden key his Divine authority ; in the silver the dis-
cernment of spirits whereby he denies Absolution to the
impenitent, the learning and discretion whereby he directs
the penitent.
He who enters by this Gate finds himself at the foot of
a zigzag mountain pass, a veritable needle's eye. This
threaded, he comes out not upon a winding, but upon a
girding terrace. And here we pause for a study of moral
theory and physical construction.
Purgatory proper is the region between the Gate of S.
Peter and the Terrestrial Paradise. It consists of seven
Terraces or landing-places, each presumably equalling in
width the length of a man's body thrice repeated ; the suc-
cessive ascents are by stairs cut out in the rock. Each
Terrace is dedicated to the purgation of one of the seven
Capital Sins ; the first three of which spring from Love
distorted, the middle one from Love defective, the last
three from Love excessive. For Love, which is in every
creature the fundamental principle of action, requires two
conditions for its purity and health : — that in its fulness it be
directed towards the Primal Goods, even towards Him, the
only measure of our love of Whom is to love Him without
1 14 The threefold vitiation of Love.
measure,1 and towards Virtue which conforms us to His
Image : — and that upon all secondary goods it rest in due
measure, and no more. For thus is it the seed of every
virtue ; but otherwise of every vice whereby man turns the
creature against the Creator. — The Distorter of Love loves
evil to his neighbour : — if for his own exaltation he
desires another's depression, he sins by Pride;' if, esteem-
ing his own power, favour, honour, and fame to be les-
sened by participation, he desires another's destitution, he
sins by Envy ; if because of evil done to himself he desires
vengeance on another, he sins by Anger. — The Defaulter
in Love loves less than he might the Highest Good, and so
striving after It all too slackly sins by Sloth. — The Ex-
ceeder in Love loves more than he ought some lower un-
sufficmg good : — if this be money, he sins by Avarice ; if
food, by Gluttony ; if sensual pleasure, by Lasciviousness.
And the purgation of each sin is double, active and passive.
All the penitents alike suffer bodily chastisement vividly
representative of the sin wherein they lived, or the
penance wherein they failed to live. And all alike, with
the whole energy of a body, soul and spirit thrilled with
agony, parched and consumed with thirst for God, spurred
by examples of virtue (among which comes ever first some
act or word of the Blessed Virgin), bridled by instances of
vice, exercise themselves night and day, unflinching and
unflagging, in the grace contrary to the sin for which they
are making satisfaction.
So much applies generally : we pass to what applies
specially.
On the first and lowest Terrace is expiated man's worst,
1 S. Francois de Sales.
Terrace I. Pride: II. Envy. 115
deepest, fundamental corruption — Pride. For how should
he be purged of any other taint while this remains 1 how of
the rebellion of the will while yet exalting himself against
the Divine Law ? how of the folly of the understanding
while yet despising the Divine Wisdom 1 Or how should
virtue be acquired by any still counted among the proud
whom God resisteth, and not among the humble to whom
He giveth grace ? Since then the first Purgatorial experi-
ence of each pride-tainted soul must needs be of the irre-
vocable sentence, ' Every one that exalteth himself shall
be abased,'1 — the penitents of Terrace I. have to creep
round and round under weighty masses of stone laid upon
their necks to bow them down to the very dust. All along
the white marble rock-wall on their left are marvellously
sculptured examples of Humility ; on the pavement under
their feet instances of Pride. They say the Lord's Prayer
as they go, adding to each petition an act of humiliation
of heart, mind, or will : and in every word of their con-
verse each studies to abase himself and exalt his fellows.
— At the foot of the narrow flight of steps which leads to
the next Terrace stands a directing Angel, and the mount-
ing penitent hears voices of sweetness unspeakable chant
the now applicable benediction, * Blessed are the poor in
spirit.'
Terrace II. has a general air of monotonous uniformity
well suited to the prison-house of a sin which ' is ever where
is some equality7 a between its subject and its object : and
which, might it but have its way, would speedily reduce all
around it to one dead level of inferiority. Pavement and
wall are here not of carved white marble, but of smooth
1 S. Luke xviii. 14. • Convito i. 11.
1 1 6 Terrace II. Envy : III. Anger.
livid stone, symbolizing in colour the Envy to be chastised.
The prisoners, mantled in haircloth of like hue, their eye-
lids sewed up with wire, sit shoulder to shoulder leaning on
each other, and all leaning their backs against the bank.
Their mean sad-coloured penance-garb in its clinging,
teasing, universal prickliness, serves as a corrective parable
of their wilful taking — not of pleasure, Envy is no pleasure,
but — of pain under the ban of the Royal Law ; pain most
wearing in its despicable pettiness, cleaving like a burr to
the soul, fastening on all things and all persons within its
range. While in utter helplessness they realize the need of
mutual support and assistance, their evil eye, the seat of
their sin, learns in blindness and torture to look no more
askance on gifts bestowed on each for all. Vain to those
eyes were sculptures; but spirit-voices in the air above
them ring or thunder in their ears world-renowned sayings
of the Loving and of the Envious. Their invocations
entreat the prayers of all the Saints : their discourse, bitter
now only in grave and sad rebuke of their own and others'
sin, is sweet in tenderest Brotherly Love, acknowledged
interdependence, and heartfelt gratitude. And their bene-
diction on their release is this : ' Blessed are the merciful,'
and ' Rejoice, O Victor.'
Terrace III. is partially beclouded with an all-veiling
smoke-fog thicker than the infernal darkness, bitter to the
taste, and severely pungent to the eyes. We have seen in
the Hell one probable reason for punishing Wrath with
fumes ; an additional reason here seems to be the effect of
this sin in so obstructing the mental eye as to make it in-
capable of seeing anything as it really is. To the sufferers
of this Circuit the instances of Meekness and of Anger are
Terrace IV. Sloth : V. Avarice. 1 1 7
inwardly presented in ecstatic vision ; this mode being pro-
bably chosen on purpose to constrain them to keep their
minds in that calm wherein during life they proved so
wofully deficient. For peace and mercy they address their
unceasing prayer, all one concord in word and tone, to the
Lamb of God That taketh away the sins of the world : thus
they learn to be angry and sin not, mourning over evil only
with the righteous disinterested indignation which would
fain see it wholly converted to good. And their final dis-
charge is, ' Blessed are the peacemakers, that are with-
out evil anger.'
So far the sins of Love distorted. The next in order is
Love defective, which as doing little or no good occupies
an exceptional transitional place between the two divisions
of the Love which does evil.
Terrace IV. is a race-course round which the Slothful run
and run at their extremest speed. Nothing is done for
them, but all by them : — the foremost two lead on, shout-
ing with tears examples of Diligence ; the whole pursuing
troop press on, urge on with words like goads ; the hind-
most two chase on with mordant outcries upon instances of
Sloth.1 Nothing is said of any prayers of these athletes ;
they are at last dismissed upwards with the words, ' Blessed
are they that mourn, for their souls shall be queens of con-
solation/
From this point extends the region of Love excessive.
Terrace V. is occupied by the Avaricious, and also by
the Prodigal ; indeed every one of the Terraces is stated to
belong to two opposite classes, though here alone is this
circumstance dwelt on. Prostrate, extended, motionless
1 Sloth =Accidia. See p. 51.
u8 Terrace V. Avarice: VI. Gluttony.
these earth-idolizers lie along the earth ; bound hand and
foot because that earth limed their energies away from all
the work they should have done for Heaven ; eyes merged
within that earth, because while living on it they would
raise those eyes no higher. Their chastisement is expressly
said to be as severe as any on the Mount ; what indeed
should be sorer to affections set on Heaven than eyes
that cannot choose but grovel ? ' My soul cleaveth unto
the dust ' is their sighing plaint ; while now loud, now low,
they eulogize by day the Poor and the Liberal, and de-
nounce the Avaricious by night. And their emancipation
blesses those that ' thirst after justice.'
Terrace VI. famishes Gluttons in the midst of plenty.
During their ceaseless perambulation two trees, planted
probably at opposite spots, keep torturing them with fruit-
less cravings. The first tree is the banquet of Tantalus ; in
form like a pine, but with head broadening upwards that
none may climb; its apples temptingly odorous; its top-
most crown of foliage laved ever by a jet of clearest water
streaming upon it from a fount springing high up in the
rock-wall. The smell is of virtue to excite appetite in the
utmost possible degree : but still as the hungering thirsting
Shades draw nigh a voice issues from the boughs, denying
them the feast, and setting before them examples of Temper-
ance.— The second tree is reared from a sprig of the Tree
of Knowledge ; but neither here may cries and outstretched
hands prevail to obtain one single fruit of the plenteous
heavy crop; the voice amid the leaves again forbids the
supplicants, and scares them away with instances of
Gluttony. Unrecognisable in their emaciation these peni-
tents keep their baffled fast, yet chant their tearful vow.
Terrace VII. Lasciviousness. 119
' Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord ; ' till at length they too
are blessed as grace-illumined to hunger no more than in
just measure.
Terrace VII. — the last — is a furnace ; perhaps through
the Fire of this Elemental Sphere manifesting itself at this
point in visible sensible flame proceeding from the rock-
wall, and only so far blown back by a wind from the edge
as to leave clear a passage barely wide enough for one
exceeding circumspect to walk along unscorched and un-
precipitated. Two processions of penitents, going contrary
ways within the fire, while apart sing low the hymn ' Summae
Deus clementise,' l wherein Chastity is besought, and pro-
claim aloud examples of that virtue ; then at each succes-
sive encounter embrace and pass on unlingering, crying
shame as they separate on instances of Lasciviousness : —
till cleansed they are sped upwards with the Angelic valedic-
tion, ' Blessed are the pure in heart/
From this point Purgatory is no more. As impeccable
its holy prisoners have entered upon it, so immoveable in
the set purpose of making satisfaction to One supremely
loved they have endured it unconstrained. Hence the
Wrathful have needfully kept within their smoke, the
Lascivious within their fire ; hence the Slothful have raced
on even in seeming discourtesy to a guest, the Avaricious
cut short pleasant discourse to weep, the Gluttonous sought
once and again the trees of emptiness. But a change
comes at last like a flood upon the will ; the craving for
agony is satiated ; the Soul leaps up free for its beatitude.
Nature and Grace respond throughout the Sphere of Fire :
the Mount trembles sympathetic; Gloria in Excelsis goes
1 The Matins Hymn for Saturday.
1 20 The Soul enfranchised.
up like incense from the whole world of Prisoners of
Hope.
One more ladder is scaled— who shall say whether with
feet or wings ? And lo the indefectible Soul, having with a
great sum obtained this freedom, stands on the borders of
its redeemed, its reconquered inheritance, the Eden and
the Heaven whence it shall go out no more.
CHAPTER VIII.
DANTE'S PILGRIMAGE THROUGH PURGATORY.
E poi vedrai color che son content!
Nel fuoco.
And thou shalt then see those who are content
Within the fire.
Inf. i. 118, 119.
DANTE with Virgil, issuing from within the Earth at
earliest dawn, as seems most likely, of Easter Day,1
stood on the low flat shore of the Western Island.
Sweet colour of the oriental sapphire,
That was upgathered in the cloudless aspect
Of the pure air, as far as the first circle,
Unto mine eyes did recommence delight
Soon as I issued forth from the dead air,
Which had with sadness filled mine eyes and breast.
The beauteous planet, that to love incites,
Was making all the orient to laugh,
Veiling the Fishes that were in her escort
To the right hand I turned, and fixed my mind
Upon the other pole, and saw four stars
Ne'er seen before save by the primal people.
Rejoicing in their flamelets seemed the heaven.
O thou septentrional and widowed site,
Because thou art deprived of seeing these !
1 Cayley, note on Inf. xxxiv. 105.
1 2 2 Cato questions the Pilgrims :
When from regarding them I had withdrawn,
Turning a little to the other pole,
There where the Wain had disappeared already,
I saw beside me an old man alone,
Worthy of so much reverence in his look,
That more owes not to father any son.
A long beard and with white hair intermingled
He wore, in semblance like unto the tresses,
Of which a double list fell on his breast.
The rays of the four consecrated stars
Did so adorn his countenance with light,
That him I saw as were the sun before him.
' Who are you ? ye who, counter the blind river.
Have fled away from the eternal prison ? '
Moving those venerable plumes, he said :
' Who guided you ? or who has been your lamp
In issuing forth out of the night profound,
That ever black makes the infernal valley ?
The laws of the abyss, are they thus broken ?
Or is there changed in Heaven some counsel new,
That being damned ye come unto my crags ? '
Then did my Leader lay his grasp upon me,
And with his words, and with his hands and signs,
Reverent he made in me my knees and brow ;
Then answered him : * I came not of myself ;
A Lady from Heaven descended, at whose prayers
I aided this one with my company.
But since it is thy will more be unfolded
Of our condition, how it truly is,
Mine cannot be that this should be denied thee.
This one has never his last evening seen,
But by his folly was so near to it
That very little time was there to turn.
As I have said, I unto him was sent
is satisfied with Virgil's reply. 123
To rescue him, and Other way was none
Than this to which I have myself betaken.
I Ve shown him all the people of perdition,
And now those Spirits I intend to show
Who purge themselves beneath thy guardianship.
How I have brought him would be long to tell thee.
Virtue descendeth from on high that aids me
To lead him to behold thee and to hear thee.
Now may it please thee to vouchsafe his coming ;
He seeketh Liberty, which is so dear,
As knoweth he who life for her refuses.
Thou know'st it ; since, for her, to thee not bitter
Was death in Utica, where thou didst leave
The vesture, that will shine so, the great day.
By us the eternal edicts are not broken ;
Since this one lives, and Minos binds not me ;
But of that circle I, where are the chaste
Eyes of thy Marcia, who in looks still prays thee,
0 holy breast, to hold her as thine own ;
For her love, then, incline thyself to us.
Permit us through thy sevenfold realm to go ;
1 will take back this grace from thee to her,
If to be mentioned there below thou deignest.'
' Marcia so pleasing was unto mine eyes
While I was on the other side,' then said he,
* That every grace she wished of me I granted ;
Now that she dwells beyond the evil river,
She can no longer move me, by that law
Which, when I issued forth from there, was made.
But if a Lady of Heaven do move and rule thee,
As thou dost say, no flattery is needful ;
Let it suffice thee that for her thou ask me.
Go, then, and see thou gird this one about
With a smooth rush, and that thou wash his face.
124 Dante cleansed from stains.
So that thou cleanse away all stain therefrom,
For 'twere not fitting that the eye o'ercast
By any mist should go before the first
Angel, who is of those of Paradise.
This little island round about its base
Below there, yonder, where the billow beats it,
Doth rushes bear upon its washy ooze ;
No other plant that putteth forth the leaf,
Or that doth indurate, can there have life,
Because it yieldeth not unto the shocks.
Thereafter be not this way your return ;
The sun, which now is rising, will direct you
To take the mount by easier ascent.'
With this he vanished ; and I raised me up
Without a word, and wholly drew myself
Unto my Guide, and turned mine eyes to hi:n«
And he began : ' Son, follow thou my steps ;
Let "us turn back, for on this side declines
The plain unto its lower boundaries.'
The dawn was vanquishing the matin hour
Which fled before it, so that from afar
I recognised the trembling of the sea.
Along the solitary plain we went
As one who unto the lost road returns.
And till he finds it seems to go in vain.
As soon as we were come to where the dew
Fights with the sun, and, being in a part
Where shadow falls, little evaporates,
Both of his hands upon the grass outspread
In gentle manner did my Master place ;
Whence I, who of his action was aware,
Extended unto him my tearful cheeks ;
There did he make in me uncovered wholly
That hue which Hell had covered up in me.
The first Angel is seen. \ 25
Then came we down upon the desert shore
Which never yet saw navigate its waters
Any that afterward had known return.
There he begirt me as the other pleased ;
0 marvellous ! for even as he culled
The humble plant, such it sprang up again
Suddenly there where he uprooted it.
Pur. i. 13-136.
The sun was rising : when behold another marvel.
We still were on the border of the sea,
Like people who are thinking of their road,
Who go in heart, and with the body stay ;
And lo ! as when, upon the approach of morning,
Through the gross vapours Mars grows fiery red
Down in the West upon the ocean floor,
Appeared to me — may I again behold it ! —
A light along the sea so swiftly coming,
Its motion by no flight of wing is equalled ;
From which when I a little had withdrawn
Mine eyes, that I might question my Conductor,
Again I saw it brighter grown and larger.
Then on each side of it appeared to me
1 knew not what of white, and underneath it
Little by little there came forth another.
My master yet had uttered not a word
While the first whiteness into wings unfolded ;
But when he clearly recognised the pilot,
He cried : ' Make haste, make haste to bow the knee '
Behold the Angel of God ! fold thou thy hands !
Henceforward shalt thou see such officers !
See how he scorneth human arguments,
So that nor oar he wants, nor other sail
Than his own wings, between so distant shores.
1 2 6 The landing of the Shades.
See how he holds them pointed up to Heaven,
Fanning the air with the eternal pinions,
That do not moult themselves like mortal hair ! '
Then as still nearer and more near us came
The Bird Divine, more radiant he appeared,
So that, near by, the eye could not endure him,
But down I cast it ; and he came to shore
With a small vessel, very swift and light,
So that the water swallowed naught thereof.
Upon the stern stood the Celestial Pilot ;
Beatitude seemed written in his face,
And more than a hundred Spirits sat within.
' In exitu Israel de j&gypto ! '
They chanted all together in one voice,
With whatso in that psalm is after written.
Then made he sign of holy rood upon them,
Whereat all cast themselves upon the shore,
And he departed swiftly as he came.
II. 10-51.
The newly landed troop first gazed around in perplexity,
then seeing two strangers asked the way, but of course in
vain. Dante's breathing, as revealing him to be alive, next
excited their wondering interest, and anon one pressed for-
ward to embrace him, but could not be embraced in turn
— thrice the clasping hands met behind the aerial body,
thrice returned empty to the embracer's breast. This
Shade was his courteous and amiable friend Casella, a con-
summate Florentine musician in whose singing he had been
wont to take delight. At his request now to have that
delight renewed, a Canzone of his own was commenced
with surpassing sweetness by Casella, and all, even the
philosophic Virgil, stood entranced to hear. But not for
long : the rigid Warden Cato with one sharp rebuke
Virgil casts no shadow. 1 2 7
chased away his charges towards the Mount, and conveyed
to Virgil a hint quickly applied.
He seemed to me within himself remorseful ;
O noble conscience, and without a stain,
How sharp a sting is trivial fault to thee !
III. 7-9-
When at length the two Pilgrims felt free somewhat to
slacken their hurried steps, Dante, as yet inexperienced in
a daylight world of ghosts, and therefore startled to notice
no shadow but his own cast on the ground, looked round
in sudden anxiety.
' Why dost thou still mistrust ? ' my Comforter
Began to say to me turned wholly round ;
* Dost thou not think me with thee, and that I guide thee ?
'Tis evening there already where is buried
The body within which I cast a shadow ;
'Tis from Brundusium ta'en, and Naples has it.
Now if in front of me no shadow fall,
Marvel not at it more than at the heavens,
Because one ray impedeth not another.
To suffer torments, both of cold and heat,
Bodies like this that Power provides, Which wills
That how It works be not unveiled to us.
Insane is he who hopeth that our reason
Can traverse the illimitable way,
Which the One Substance in Three Persons follows !
Mortals, remain contented at the Quid;*-
For if ye had been able to see all,
1 ' Be satisfied with knowing that a thing is, without asking why it
is. These were distinguished in scholastic language as the Demon-
sir atto quid, and the Demonstratio p'opter quid.'
K
128 Manfred King of Naples
No need there were for Mary to give birth ;
And ye have seen desiring without fruit, '
Those whose desire would have been quieted,
Which evermore is given them for a grief.
I speak of Aristotle and of Plato,
And many others ' ; — and here bowed his head,
And more he said not, and remained disturbed.
in. 22-45.
By this time both stood at the foot of the mountain ; the
ascent going up so sheer above them that nothing short of
wings would serve the turn. As they mused and searched
for a practicable slope, a troop of Souls were seen in slowest
movement more than a mile off; but the Poets hastening
towards them had soon diminished this distance to a
stone's-throw. Then the sight of a human shadow excited for
the first time the amazement with which it was to be again
and again greeted : — this amazement removed, the Shades
directed their guests in the way. As they walked along one
made himself known as Manfred King of Naples and Sicily,
grandson of the Empress Constance ; he did not call himself
son of the Emperor Frederick n., probably because aware
that this last was entombed in the City of Dis, where we
saw him with Farinata and Cavalcante.1 Manfred had
been slain at Benevento in battle for his throne against
Charles of Anjou; and now, after requesting Dante to
obtain for him the prayers of his daughter Constance,
widow of Peter in. of Aragon and mother of the reigning
Kings of Aragon and Sicily, he told of his own death and
burial : — he had at first been interred by order of his vic-
torious rival at the foot of the bridge of Benevento, and a
1 See page 76.
tells of his death and burial. 1 29
great pile of stones heaped on his grave ; but it is said that
afterwards, by command of Pope Clement v., the Bishop of
Cosenza removed his body to the banks of the River Verde,
on the Neapolitan frontier. His own words are :
After I had my body lacerated
By these two mortal stabs, I gave myself
Weeping to Him, Who willingly doth pardon.
Horrible my iniquities had been ;
But Infinite Goodness hath such ample arms,
That It receives whatever turns to It
Had but Cosenza's pastor, who in chase
Of me was sent by Clement at that time,
In God read understandingly this page,
The bones of my dead body still would be
At the bridge-head, near unto Benevento,
Under the safeguard of the heavy cairn.
Now the rain bathes and moveth them the wind,
Beyond the realm, almost beside the Verde,
Where he transported them with tapers quenched.
By malison of theirs is not so lost
Eternal Love, that It cannot return,
So long as hope has anything of green.
True is it, who in contumacy 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.
See now if thou hast power to make me happy,
By making known unto my good Costanza
How thou hast seen me, and this ban beside ;
For those on earth can much advance us here.
III. 118-145.
1 30 The steep ascent.
In his absorbed attention to Manfred's words Dante had
forgotten all else; but soon after 9 A.M. the friendly Shades
with one voice indicated the sole accessible path, narrower
than such a breach in a hedge as might be stopped with
one fork-load of brambles, and steeper than probably the
very steepest mountain-passes Dante had seen in Italy.
One climbs Sanleo and descends in Noli,
And mounts the summit of Bismantova,
With feet alone ; but here one needs must fly ;
With the swift pinions and the plumes I say
Of great desire, conducted after him
Who gave me hope, and made a light for me.
We mounted upward through the rifted rock,
And on each side the border pressed upon us,
And feet and hands the ground beneath required.
iv. 25-33.
Thus did the Pilgrims manage to struggle to the open
mountain-side, and thence to the first stage of the winding
terrace ; whereon at length they sat down to rest, looking
seawards. Virgil as usual turned the time to account by
explaining some astronomical phenomena of this Antipodal
Hemisphere, and was just comforting his disciple with a
prospect of easier ascents in the sky- veiled heights and of
final rest at the top, when a voice near them saying, ' Per-
haps you may want to sit down before that,' made them
turn and draw towards a rocky mass till then unnoticed.
In its shade were seated a group of very lazy-looking Ghosts,
lingering out a time corresponding to that of their negligent
delay of conversion. One with his arms round his knees
and his face between them had been the speaker — Belacqua,
an acquaintance concerning whose salvation Dante had been
Belacqua. 131
much in doubt, and who now struck into the conversation
in a tone not free from levity.
His sluggish attitude and his curt words
A little unto laughter moved my lips ;
Then I began : * Belacqua, I grieve not
For thee henceforth ; but tell me, wherefore seated
In this place art thou ? Waitest thou an escort ?
Or has thy usual habit seized upon thee ? '
And he : * O brother, what 's the use of climbing ?
Since to my torment would not let me go
The Angel of God, who sitteth at the gate.
First Heaven must needs so long revolve me round
Outside thereof, as in my life it did,
Since the good sighs I to the end postponed,
Unless, ere that, some prayer may bring me aid
Which rises from a heart that lives in grace ;
What profit others that in Heaven are heard not ? '
Meanwhile the Poet was before me mounting,
And saying : * Come now ; see the sun has touched
Meridian, and from the shore the night
Covers already with her foot Morocco.'
I had already from those Shades departed,
And followed in the footsteps of my Guide,
When from behind, pointing his finger at me,
One shouted : * See, it seems as if shone not
The sunshine on the left of him below,
And like one living seems he to conduct him ! '
Mine eyes I turned at utterance of these words,
And saw them watching with astonishment
But me, but me, and the light which was broken !
' Why doth thy mind so occupy itself/
The Master said, ' that thou thy pace dost slacken ?
What matters it to thee what here is whispered ?
132 Count Buonconte di Montefeltro
Come after me, and let the people talk ;
Stand like a steadfast tower, that never wags
Its top for all the blowing of the winds ;
For evermore the man in whom is springing
Thought upon thought, removes from him the mark,
Because the force of one the other weakens.'
What could I say in answer but ' I come ' ?
I said it somewhat with that colour tinged
Which makes a man of pardon sometimes worthy.
iv. 121-139. v. 1-21.
The next troop was of some who being while yet uncon-
verted smitten with a violent death-stroke, had in their few
remaining moments been enlightened to repent and to
forgive. Among these was Count Buonconte di Monte-
feltro, son of that Count Guido whom we already know,1
and with whose history his own strikingly contrasts. Buon-
conte had been slain in the battle of Campaldino, command-
ing on the Ghibelline side ; and Dante, in that battle his
Guelph opponent, meeting him here eagerly inquired,
* What violence or what chance
Led thee astray so far from Campaldino
That never has thy sepulture been known ? '
' Oh,' he replied, ' at Casentino's foot
A river crosses named Archiano, born
Above the Hermitage in Apennine.
There where the name thereof becometh void
Did I arrive, pierced through and through the throat.
Fleeing on foot, and bloodying the plain ;
There my sight lost I, and my utterance
Ceased in the name of Mary, and thereat
I fell, and tenantless my flesh remained.
1 See page 87.
in repentance and after death. 133
Truth will I speak, repeat it to the living ;
God's Angel took me up, and he of Hell
Shouted : ' O thou from Heaven, why dost thou rob me ?
Thou bearest away the eternal part of him,
For one poor little tear, that takes him from me ;
But with the rest I '11 deal in other fashion ! '
Well knowest thou how in the air is gathered
That humid vapour which to water turns,
Soon as it rises where the cold doth grasp it
He joined that evil will, which aye seeks evil,
To intellect, and moved the mist and wind
By means of power, which his own nature gave ;
Thereafter, when the day was spent, the valley
From Pratomagno to the great yoke covered
With fog, and made the heaven above intent,
So that the pregnant air to water changed ;
Down fell the rain, and to the gullies came
Whate'er of it earth tolerated not ;
And as it mingled with the mighty torrents,
Towards the royal river with such speed
It headlong rushed, that nothing held it back.
My frozen body near unto its outlet
The robust Archian found, and into Arno
Thrust it, and loosened from my breast the cross
I made of me, when agony o'ercame me ;
It rolled me on the banks and on the bottom ;
Then with its booty covered and begirt me.'
V. 91-129.
To this class of the slain by violence belonged also the
Pisan Farinata degli Scornigiani, whose death is variously
attributed to Beccio da Caprona and to Count Ugolino
della Gherardesca, whom we saw in Hell.1 It is said that
1 See page 97.
1 34 Virgil discourses concerning Prayer.
Farinata's father, here expressly called ' the good Marzucco,'
a Minorite friar, in company with the other friars attended
his funeral, and entreated the whole family to abstain from
vengeance.1 — All this band of Spirits spoke like Belacqua
of prayers on earth as their sole possible succour, and un-
like him besought Dante to procure them that succour;
thus suggesting to his mind a difficulty which his Master
professed not confidently to solve.
As soon as I was free from all those Shades
Who only prayed that some one else may pray,
So as to hasten their becoming holy,
Began I : ' It appears that thou deniest,
O light of mine, expressly in some text,2
That orison can bend decree of Heaven ;
And ne'ertheless these people pray for this.
Might then their expectation bootless be ?
Or is to me thy saying not quite clear ? '
&nd he to me : ' My writing is explicit,
And not fallacious is the hope of these,
If with sane intellect 'tis well regarded ;
For top of judgment doth not vail itself, 3
Because the fire of love fulfils at once
What he must satisfy who here installs him.
And there, where I affirmed that proposition,
Defect was not amended by a prayer,
Because the prayer from God was separate.
Verily, in so deep a questioning
1 Fraticelli and Longfellow, Pur. vi. 17, 18. Various accounts how-
ever are given by different authorities.
a ' In jEneidvi. : " Cease to hope that the decrees oi the gods are
to be changed by prayers." '
8 The highest point of God's judgment does not bend.
Sordello of Mantua. 135
Do not decide, unless she tell it thee,
Who light 'twixt truth and intellect shall be.
I know not if thou understand ; I speak
Of Beatrice ; her shalt thou see above,
Smiling and happy, on this mountain's top.'
VI. 25-48.
Already the way was felt to be easier, and Dante in-
spired by the thought of Beatrice was craving more rapid
progress, when suddenly a Shade keeping solitary watch
caught Virgil's eye ; and a request for guidance was an-
swered with an inquiry respecting the Pilgrims' country and
condition. The mere name of Mantua instantly quickened
indifference into interest and love, for this Shade was the
Mantuan Poet-Podesta Sordello ; * the name of Virgil awed
love into reverence. The reiterated request to be shown
the shortest way to Purgatory proper now elicited the in-
formation that in the rapidly supervening darkness it would
be impossible to get so far, and the welcome offer of in-
troduction into a nocturnal sojourn tenanted l^y Shades
whose acquaintance would give pleasure.
Little had we withdrawn us from that place,
When I perceived the mount was hollowed out
In fashion as the valleys here are hollowed.
* Thitherward,' said that Shade, * will we repair,
Where of itself the hill-side makes a lap,
1 It seems to me on the whole most probable that Sordello was both
poet and podesta. Dante (De Volg. El. i. 15) speaks of Sordello of
Mantua as a poet ; and all those with whom he is here associated are
Princes and Rulers. Quadrio (Storia d'ogni Poesia, ii. 130), though
without giving his authorities, adopts the same conclusion as I have
done respecting this vexed question. (See Longfellow on Pur. vi. 74.)
136 The Dell of Princes.
And there for the new day will we await.'
'Twixt hill and plain there was a winding path
Which led us to the margin of that dell,
Where dies the border more than half away.
Gold and fine silver, and scarlet and pearl-white,
The Indian wood resplendent and serene,
Fresh emerald the moment it is broken,
By herbage and by flowers within that hollow
Planted, each one in colour would be vanquished,
As by its greater vanquished is the less.
Nor in that place had nature painted only,
But of the sweetness of a thousand odours
Made there a mingled fragrance and unknown.
' Salve Regina] on the green and flowers
There seated, singing, Spirits I beheld,
Which were not visible outside the valley.
VII. 64-84.
These Spirits, of whom Sordello himself was one, were
Princes and Rulers who for love of things not in them-
selves sinful had postponed conversion or been negligent
of good. Long Dante gazed from above as his new friend
pointed out renowned Shade after Shade : — Rodolph of
Hapsburg comforted by his chief opponent Ottocar of
Bohemia ; Philippe le Hardi in consultation with Henry
in. of Navarre, the one father, the other father-in-law, to
the reigning ' Pest of France,' Philippe le Bel ; Peter in.
of Aragon singing in accord with his quondam adversary
Charles I. of Naples. And as the sight of these Princes
suggested the thought of those who now occupied their
thrones, Sordello gave utterance to the reflection —
Not oftentimes upriseth through the branches
The Compline hymn is sung. 137
The probity of man ; and this He wills
Who gives it, so that we may ask of Him.1
vu. 121-123.
Seated alone was Henry in. of England, ' the King of the
simple life ; ' his posterity is expressly excepted from the
censure passed on that of his associates.
We shall find Dante recur in the Paradiso to this subject
of the degeneracy of sons from fathers ; - it seems to have
greatly occupied his mind. But
'Twas now the hour that turneth back desire
In those who sail the sea, and melts the heart,
The day they Ve said to their sweet friends farewell,
And the new pilgrim penetrates with love,
If he doth hear from far away a bell
That seemeth to deplore the dying day,
When I began to make of no avail
My hearing, and to watch one of the Souls
Uprisen, that begged attention with its hand.
It joined and lifted upward both its palms,
Fixing its eyes upon the orient,
As if it said to God, ' Naught else I care for.'
* Te lucis ante * 3 so devoutly issued
Forth from its mouth, and with such dulcet notes,
It made me issue forth from my own mind.
And then the others, sweetly and devoutly,
Accompanied it through all the hymn entire,
Having their eyes on the supernal wheels.
1 1 think the sense of the last line and a half is rather : ' this lie
wills Who gives it, in order that it may be ascribed to Him.'
2 See page 229.
3 The first words of the Compline hymn, which contains a prayer
against the Enemy;
138 The descent of two Angels.
Here, Reader, fix thine eyes well on the truth,
For now indeed so subtile is the veil,
Surely to penetrate within is easy.
I saw that army of the gentle-born
Thereafterward in silence upward gaze,
As if in expectation, pale and humble ;
And from on high come forth and down descend,
I saw two Angels with two naming swords,
Truncated and deprived of their points.
Green as the little leaflets just now born
Their garments were, which, by their verdant pinions
Beaten and blown abroad, they trailed behind.
One just above us came to take his station,
And one descended to the opposite bank,
So that the people were contained between them.
Clearly in them discerned I the blond head ;
But in their faces was the eye bewildered,
As faculty confounded by excess,
' From Mary's bosom both of them have come,'
Sordello said, * as guardians of the valley
Against the serpent, that will come anon.'
VIII. 1-39.
Descending now into the dell with the courteous guide
Dante recognised a friend, the Sardinian Judge Nino de'
Visconti, who seized the opportunity of sending to ask
the innocent prayers of his little daughter Giovanna. Yet
almost as he spoke,
My greedy eyes still wandered up to Heaven,
Still to that point where slowest are the stars,
Even as a wheel the nearest to its axle.
And my Conductor : ' Son, what dost thou gaze at
Up there ? ' And I to him : ' At those three torches
With which this hither pole is all on fire.'
The Serpent's flight. Dante borne upward. 139
And he to me : ' The four resplendent stars
Thou sawest this morning are down yonder low,
And these have mounted up to where those were.'
As he was speaking, to himself Sordello
Drew him, and said, ' Lo there our Adversary ! *
And pointed with his finger to look thither.
Upon the side on which the little valley
No barrier hath, a serpent was ; perchance
The same which gave to Eve the bitter food.
Twixt grass and flowers came on the evil streak,
Turning at times its head about, and licking
Its back like to a beast that smoothes itself.
I did not see, and therefore cannot say
How the celestial falcons 'gan to move,
But well I saw that they were both in motion.
Hearing the air cleft by their verdant wings,
The serpent fled, and round the Angels wheeled,
Up to their stations flying back alike.
VIII. 85-108.
After converse prolonged through the night, towards
dawn of Easter Monday the only Flesh among all these
Spirits dropped asleep ; dreamed of Jove's Eagle swooping
down and carrying him up into the scorching Fire-Sphere ;
and awoke, but not where his sleep had fallen upon him.
Only my Comforter was at my side,
And now the sun was more than two hours high,
And turned towards the sea-shore was my face.
' Be not intimidated,' said my Lord,
* Be reassured, for all is well with us ;
Do not restrain, but put forth all thy strength.
Thou hast at length arrived at Purgatory ;
See there the cliff that closes it around ;
See there the entrance, where it seems disjoined.
140 Lucia lays Dante before the Gate.
Whilom at dawn, which doth precede the day,
When inwardly thy spirit was asleep
Upon the flowers that deck the land below,
There came a Lady and said : " I am Lucia ;
Let me take this one up, who is asleep ;
So will I make his journey easier for him."
Sordello and the other noble shapes
Remained ; she took thee, and, as day grew bright,
Upward she came, and I upon her footsteps.
She laid thee here ; and first her beauteous eyes
That open entrance pointed out to me ;
Then she and sleep together went away.'
In guise of one whose doubts are reassured,
And who to confidence his fear doth change,
After the truth has been discovered to him.
So did I change ; and when without disquiet
My Leader saw me, up along the cliff
He moved, and I behind him, tow'rd the height
Reader, thou seest well how I exalt
My theme, and therefore if with greater art
I fortify it, marvel not thereat.
Nearer approached we, and were in such place,
That there, where first appeared to me a rift
Like to a crevice that disparts a wall,
I saw a portal, and three stairs beneath,
Diverse in colour, to go up to it,
And a gate-keeper, who yet spake no word.
And as I opened more and more mine eyes,
I saw him seated on the highest stair,
Such in the face that I endured it not.
And in his hand he had a naked sword,
Which so reflected back the sunbeams tow'rds us,
That oft in vain I lifted up mine eyes.
' Tell it from where you are, what is't you wish ?'
The graving of the seven P's. 1 4 1
Began he to exclaim ; ( Where is the escort ?
Take heed your coming hither harm you not ! '
' A Lady of Heaven, with these things conversant,'
My Master answered him, ' but even now
Said to us, " Thither go ; there is the portal." '
' And may she speed your footsteps in all good,'
Again began the courteous janitor ;
' Come forward then unto these stairs of ours.'
Thither did we approach ; and the first stair
Was marble white, so polished and so smooth,
I mirrored myself therein as I appear.
The second, tinct of deeper hue than perse,
Was of a calcined and uneven stone,
Cracked all asunder lengthwise and across.
The third, that uppermost rests massively,
Porphyry seemed to me, as flaming red
As blood that from a vein is spirting forth.
Both of his feet was holding upon this
The Angel of God, upon the threshold seated,
Which seemed to me a stone of diamond.
Along the three stairs upward with good-will
Did my Conductor draw me, saying : * Ask
Humbly that he the fastening may undo.'
Devoutly at the holy feet I cast me,
For mercy's sake besought that he would open,
But first upon my breast three times I smote.
Seven P's upon my forehead he described
With the sword's point, and, 'Take heed that thou wash
These wounds, when thou shalt be within,' he said.
IX. 43-114.
This sevenfold graving of P (the initial of Peccatum=
Sin) signifies the bringing out by reproof of the distinct
marks, already too surely branded within, of the seven
142 The Gate unlocked and passed.
Capital Sins, to be then effaced from body and soul by the
works of satisfaction enjoined as sacramental penance. It
is noteworthy that no allusion is made to these P's as traced
on the forehead of any Shade, and yet none expresses sur-
prise at seeing them on Dante's.
Ashes, or earth that dry is excavated,
Of the same colour were with his attire,
And from beneath it he drew forth two keys.
One was of gold, and the other was of silver ;
First with the white, and after with the yellow,
Plied he the door, so that I was content.
Whenever faileth either of these keys
So that it turn not rightly in the lock,'
He said to us, ' this entrance doth not open.
More precious one is, but the other needs
More art and intellect ere it unlock,
For it is that which doth the knot unloose.
From Peter I have them ; and he bade me err
Rather in opening than in keeping shut,
If people but fall down before my feet.'
Then pushed the portals of the sacred door,
Exclaiming ; ' Enter ; but I give you warning
That forth returns whoever looks behind.'
ix. 115-132.
The Gate opened, Te Deum laudamus resounded from
within ; the Gate passed, more than an hour was occupied
in the zigzag ascent : till at about 10 A.M. one Pilgrim
weary, and both uncertain of the way, stood on the First
Terrace of Purgatory, and stood there alone.
Thereon our feet had not been moved as yet,
When I perceived the embankment round about/
The sculptured examples of Humility. 143
Which all right of ascent had interdicted,
To be of marble white, and so adorned
With sculptures, that not only Polycletus,
But Nature's self, had there been put to shame.
The Angel, who came down to earth with tidings
Of peace, that had been wept for many a year,
And opened Heaven from its long interdict,
In front of us appeared so truthfully
There sculptured in a gracious attitude,
He did not seem an image that is silent.
One would have sworn that he was saying ' Ave ' j
For she was there in effigy portrayed
Who turned the key to ope the exalted love,
And in her mien this language had impressed,
4 Ecce ancilla Dei] as distinctly
As any figure stamps itself in wax.
x. 28-45.
Many more sculptured examples of Humility followed
along the bank; and in all, spoken words were after a
marvellous fashion rendered sensible to the eye.
He who on no new thing has ever looked
Was the Creator of this visible language,
Novel to us, for here it is not found.
While I delighted me in contemplating
The images of such humility,
And dear to look on for their Maker's sake,
' Behold, upon this side, but rare they make
Their steps,' the Poet murmured, ' many people ;
These will direct us to the lofty stairs.'
Mine eyes, that in beholding were intent
To see new things, of which they curious are,
In turning round towards him were not slow.
But still I wish not, Reader, thou shouldst swerve
L
1 44 The Penitents for Pride:
From thy good purposes, because thou hearest
How God ordaineth that the debt be paid ;
Attend not to the fashion of the torment,
Think of what follows ; think that at the worst
It cannot reach beyond the mighty sentence.1
X. 94-1 1 1.
At first sight it may seem surprising that after so awfully
setting before his reader the pains of Hell incurred by not
forming or not fulfilling good purposes, Dante should fear
turning him aside from any such purpose by setting before
him his liability, notwithstanding, to the pains of Purgatory.
But as we have seen,2 the subject of the Cantica is not
restricted to the purgation of Souls after death ; it likewise
exhibits the cleansing from sin and the substitution of
good for evil habits in life. The alternative presented
will not therefore be at first that between Hell and Purga-
tory, but that between the ease and pleasures of Vice on
the one hand, and the toils and sufferings of resisting Vice
on the other.
* Master,' began I, ' that which I behold
Moving towards us seems to me not persons,
And what I know not, so in sight I waver.'
And he to me : ' The grievous quality
Of this their torment bows them so to earth,
That my own eyes at first contended with it ;
But look there fixedly, and disentangle
By sight what cometh underneath those stones ;
Already canst thou see how each is stricken.'
O ye proud Christians ! wretched, weary ones !
Who, in the vision of the mind infirm,
1 The Last Judgment. 2 See p. 112.
their chastisement and their prayer. 1 45
Confidence have in your backsliding steps,1
Do ye not comprehend that we are worms,
Born to bring forth the angelic butterfly
That flieth unto judgment without screen ?
Why floats aloft your spirit high in air ?
Like are ye unto insects undeveloped,
Even as the worm in whom formation fails !
As to sustain a ceiling or a roof,
In place of corbel, oftentimes a figure
Is seen to join unto its knees its breast,
Which makes of the unreal real anguish
Arise in him who sees it ; fashioned thus
Beheld I those, when I had ta'en good heed.
True is it, they were more or less bent down,
According as they more or less were laden ;
And he who had most patience in his looks
Weeping did seem to say, ' I can no more ! '
' Our Father, Thou Who dwellest in the heavens,
Not circumscribed, but from the greater love
Thou bearest to the first effects on high,2
Praised be Thy Name and Thine Omnipotence
By every creature, as befitting is
To render thanks to Thy sweet Effluence.
Come unto us the peace of Thy dominion,
For unto it we cannot of ourselves,
If it come not, with all our intellect.
Even as Thine own Angels of their will
Make sacrifice to Thee, Hosanna singing,
So may all men make sacrifice of theirs.
'* You think to advance by means of pride, whereas in truth you
recede.
2 Not as being confined to place, but as bearing greater love to those
first and highest creatures who dwell there.
1 46 The Proud learning Plumility.
Give unto us this day our daily manna,
Withouten which in this rough wilderness
Backward goes he who toils most to advance.
And even as we the trespass we have suffered
Pardon in one another, pardon Thou
Benignly, and regard not our desert.
Our virtue, which is easily o'ercome,
Put not to proof with the old Adversary,
But Thou from him who spurs it so, deliver.
This last petition verily, dear Lord,
Not for ourselves is made, who need it not,
But for their sake who have remained behind us.'
x. 112-139. XI- 1-24.
The Souls in Purgatory need not to deprecate tempta-
tion, because so confirmed in grace as to be incapable of
sin.
Thus for themselves and us good furtherance
Those Shades imploring, went beneath a weight
Like unto that of which we sometimes dream,
Unequally in anguish round and round
And weary all, upon that foremost cornice,
Purging away the smoke-stains of the world.
If there good words are always said for us,
What may not here be said and done for them,
By those who have a good root to their will ?
Well may we help them wash away the marks
That hence they carried, so that clean and light
They may ascend unto the starry wheels !
XI. 25-36.
Virgil's customary inquiry for a practicable slope was
courteously answered, though the posture of the Shades
made it impossible to feel sure from whom the answer
Oniberto A Idobrandescki, Oderisi d' Ag obbio. \ 4 7
tame; but it contained an invitation to accompany the
toiling procession, and the inviter made himself known as
the Tuscan Omberto Aldobrandeschi, so hated as to have
been actually murdered by the Sienese for his family sin,
pride of birth : — now he humbly questioned whether his
living guest had ever heard his father Guglielmo's name.
Listening I downward bent my countenance ;
And one of them, not this one who was speaking,
Twisted himself beneath the weight that cramps him,
And looked at me, and knew me, and called out,
Keeping his eyes laboriously fixed
On me, who all bowed down was going with them.
' O,' asked I him, ' art thou not Oderisi,
Agobbio's honour, and honour of that art
Which is in Paris called illuminating ? '
* Brother,' said he, * more laughing are the leaves
Touched by the brush of Franco Bolognese ;
All his the honour now, and mine in part.
In sooth I had not been so courteous
While I was living, for the great desire
Of excellence, on which my heart was bent
Here of such pride is paid the forfeiture ;
And yet I should not be here, were it not
That, having power to sin, I turned to God.
O thou vain glory of the human powers,
How little green upon thy summit lingers,
If 't be not followed by an age of grossness ! l
In painting Cimabue thought that he
Should hold the field, now Giotto has the cry,
So that the other's fame is growing dim.
1 How shortlived art thou, except an age of ignorance immediately
succeed j for otherwise the next generation surpasses and effaces thee.
Provenzan Salvani.
So has one Guido from the other taken *
The glory of our tongue, and he perchance
Is born, who from the nest shall chase them both.
Naught is this mundane rumour but a breath
Of wind, that comes now this way and now that,
And changes name, because it changes side.
What fame shalt thou have more, if old peel off
From thee thy flesh, than if thou hadst been dead
Before thou left \hzpappo and the dindi?
Ere pass a thousand years ? which is a shorter
Space to the eterne, than twinkling of an eye
Unto the circle that in heaven wheels slowest.
XL 73-108.
The sin of Oderisi had been pride of intellect ; that of
the Shade next before him — Provenzan Salvani — pride of
dominion ; he had been Podesta of Siena, and unpopular
as such. His death in the battle of Colle having taken
place no earlier than A.D. 1269, Dante, surprised to find
him already beyond the Gate of S. Peter, inquired how his
due period of detention in Ante-Purgatory had been
shortened ; and learned that in his lifetime he had merited
this grace by a most painful act of voluntary humiliation.
A friend of his was a war-prisoner of Charles of Anjou, who
would take no less life-ransom than a sum of ten thousand
golden florins : and Provenzano, then at the height of his
glory, had in the garb of a beggar seated himself on a mat
in a public square of Siena, and had successfully begged of
the passers-by aid for his friend.
i Probably Guido Cavalcanti (see p. 76) from Guido Guinicelli (see
P- 177)-
• Baby language.
The sculptured instances of Pride. \ 49
Abreast, like oxen going in a yoke,
I with that heavy-laden Soul went on,
As long as the sweet pedagogue permitted ;
But when he said, * Leave him, and onward pass,
For here 'tis good that with the sail and oars,
As much as may be, each push on his barque ; '
Upright, as walking wills it, I redressed
My person, notwithstanding that my thoughts
Remained within me downcast and abashed.
I had moved on, and followed willingly
The footsteps of my Master, and we both
Already showed how light of foot we were,
When unto me he said : ' Cast down thine eyes ;
'Twere well for thee, to alleviate the way,
To look upon the bed beneath thy feet.'
As, that some memory may exist of them,
Above the buried dead their tombs in earth
Bear sculptured on them what they were before ;
Whence often there we weep for them afresh,
From pricking of remembrance, which alone
To the compassionate doth set its spur ;
So saw I there, but of a better semblance
In point of artifice, with figures covered
Whate'er as pathway from the mount projects.
I saw that one who was created noble
More than all other creatures, down from heaven
Flaming with lightnings fall upon one side.
I saw Briareus smitten by the dart
Celestial, lying on the other side,
Heavy upon the earth by mortal frost.
I saw Thymbraeus,1 Pallas saw, and Mars,
Still clad in armour round about their father,
1 Apollo,
1 50 Instances of Pride continued.
Gaze at the scattered members of the giants.
I saw, at foot of his great labour, Nimrod,
As if bewildered, looking at the people
Who had been proud with him in Sennaar.
O Niobe ! with what afflicted eyes
Thee I beheld upon the pathway traced,
Between thy seven and seven children slain !
O Saul ! how fallen upon thy proper sword
Didst thou appear there lifeless in Gilboa,
That felt thereafter neither rain nor dew !
O mad Arachne ! so I thee beheld
E'en then half spider, sad upon the shreds
Of fabric wrought in evil hour for thee !
O Rehoboam ! no more seems to threaten
Thine image there ; but full of consternation
A chariot bears it off, when none pursues !
Displayed moreo'er the adamantine pavement
How unto his own mother made Alcmason l
Costly appear the luckless ornament ;
Displayed how his own sons did throw themselves
Upon Sennacherib within the temple,
And how, he being dead, they left him there ;
Displayed the ruin and the cruel carnage
That Tomyris wrought, when she to Cyrus said,
1 Blood didst thou thirst for, and with blood I glut thee ! '
Displayed how routed fled the Assyrians
After that Holofernes had been slain,
And likewise the remainder of that slaughter.
1 'Amphiaraus the soothsayer, foreseeing his own death if he went
to the Theban war, concealed himself to avoid going. His wife Eri-
phyle, bribed by a "golden necklace set with diamonds," betrayed to
her brother Adrastus his hiding-place ; and Amphiaraus, departing,
charged his son Alcmseon to kill Eriphyle as soon as he heard of his
<5eath.'
The first P effaced:
I saw there Troy in ashes and in caverns ;
O Ilion ! thee, how abject and debased,
Displayed the image that is there discerned !
Who e'er of pencil master was or stile,
That could portray the shades and traits which there
Would cause each subtile genius to admire ?
Dead seemed the dead, the living seemed alive ;
Better than I saw not who saw the truth,
All that I trod upon while bowed I went.
Now wax ye proud, and on with looks uplifted,
Ye sons of Eve, and bow not down your faces
So that ye may behold your evil ways \
XII. 1-72.
The way thus beguiled brought Dante all unconscious to
the noontide hour, and to the point where the liberating
Angel awaited him.
Towards us came the being beautiful
Vested in white, and in his countenance
Such as appears the tremulous morning star.
XII. 88-90.
At the foot of the steep narrow staircase one stroke of
the Angel's wings effaced from Dante's brow a P ; and the
blessing was chanted from the Terrace he was leaving
behind.
Ah me ! how different are these entrances
From the Infernal ! for with anthems here
One enters, and below with wild laments.
We now were mounting up the sacred stairs,
And it appeared to me by far more easy
Than on the plain it had appeared before.
Whence I ; ' My Master, say, what heavy thing
Has been uplifted from me, so that hardly
1 5 2 The Penitents for Envy : Sapia,
Aught of fatigue is felt by me in walking ? '
He answered : ' When the P's which have remained
Still on thy face almost obliterate
Shall wholly, as the first is, be erased,
Thy feet will be so vanquished by good will,
That not alone they shall not feel fatigue,
But urging up will be to them delight.'
XII. 112-126.
The cancelling of this first P so greatly deadened all the
rest, because Pride lies at the root of all other sins ; with-
out it they would have little virulence, nay often no exist-
ence. And even were this not so, a sinner free from Pride
would place no bar in the way of correction.
The Second Terrace reached, in default of any other
guide Virgil besought direction of the Sun, the type of
Reason ; then as always in Purgatory turned to the right.
A mile's walk brought the Travellers to the point where
aerial voices in rapid succession were proclaiming examples
of Brotherly Love, the first being the Blessed Virgin's
words, ' They have no wine ; ' and directly afterwards their
keen gaze detected the penitents for Envy, whose garment
rendered it somewhat difficult to distinguish them from the
wall. Great was Dante's compassion at the sight of their
pain and blindness, and delicacy of feeling made him
anxious to give testimony of his presence by speech.
Leave duly obtained, he conversed awhile with Sapia, a
lady of Siena, who being banished thence had lived at
Colle, and when past her thirty-fifth year had through envy
first prayed for and then in most irreverent words rejoiced
over the defeat there inflicted by the Florentines on her
fellow-citizens under Provenzan Salvani. She concluded :
Guido del Duca, Rinieri da Calboli. 153
* Peace I desired with God at the extreme
Of my existence, and as yet would not
My debt have been by penitence discharged,
Had it not been that in remembrance held me
Pier Pettignano * in his holy prayers,
Who out of charity was grieved for me.
But who art thou, that into our conditions
Questioning goest, and hast thine eyes unbound
As I believe, and breathing dost discourse ? '
* Mine eyes,' I said, ' will yet be here ta'en from me,
But for short space ; for small is the offence
Committed by their being turned with envy.
Far greater is the fear, wherein suspended
My soul is, of the torment underneath,
For even now the load down there weighs on me.'
And she to me : ' Who led thee, then, among us
Up here, if to return below thou thinkest ? '
And I : ' He who is with me, and speaks not ;
And living am I ; therefore ask of me,
Spirit elect, if thou wouldst have me move
O'er yonder yet my mortal feet for thee.'
' O, this is such a novel thing to hear,'
She answered, ' that great sign it is God loves thee ;
Therefore with prayer of thine sometimes assist me.
And I implore, by what thou most desirest,
If e'er thou treadest the soil of Tuscany, •
Well with my kindred reinstate my fame.'
XIII. 124-150.
Two other Shades, Guido del Duca and Rinieri da
Calboli, then took up the discourse, like Sapia gladly
acknowledging the special grace bestowed on Dante ; and
farther exercising charity by grief for the vices of their native
1 A hermit of Siena.
1 54 The second P effaced.
Romagna and of the Vale of Arno, till at last Guido, desir-
ing leisure to weep over the pictures he himself had drawn,
dismissed his listener.
We were aware that those beloved Souls
Heard us depart ; therefore, by keeping silent,
They made us of our pathway confident.
xiv. 127-129.
The thunder-voices that condemn the Envious soon made
themselves heard, Virgil thus commenting upon them :
' That was the hard curb
That ought to hold a man within his bounds ;
But you take in the bait so that the hook
Of the old Adversary draws you to him,
And hence availeth little curb or call.
The heavens are calling you, and wheel around you,
Displaying to you their eternal beauties,
And still your eye is looking on the ground ;
Whence He, who all discerns, chastises you.'
xiv. 143-151-
Then a dazzling brightness told of the Angel's presence ;
the second P was effaced, the Blessing sung, the staircase
benignly pointed out and pronounced easier than had yet
been the case : and the third ascent began, made profitable
by a dialogue on Envy. Guido in his mournful discourse
had thus apostrophized mankind :
O human race ! why dost thou set thy heart
Where interdict of partnership must be ?
XIV. 86, 87.
And the disciple, doubting of his meaning, now thus
questioned the Master :
Virgil treats of Envy and Charity. 155
' What did the Spirit of Romagna mean.
Mentioning interdict and partnership ? '
Whence he to me : ' Of his own greatest failing
He knows the harm ; and therefore wonder not
If he reprove us, that we less may rue it.
Because are thither pointed your desires
Where by companionship each share is lessened,
Envy doth ply the bellows to your sighs.
But if the love of the supernal sphere
Should upwardly direct your aspiration,
There would not be that fear within your breast ;
For there, as much the more as one says Our,
So much the more of good each one possesses,
And more of charity in that cloister burns.'
* I am more hungering to be satisfied,'
I said, * than if I had before been silent,
And more of doubt within my mind I gather.
How can it be, that boon distributed
The more possessors can more wealthy make
Therein, than if by few it be possessed ?'
And he to me : * ' Because thou fixest still
Thy mind entirely upon earthly things,
Thou pluckest darkness from the very light.
That Goodness Infinite and Ineffable
Which is above there, runneth unto love,
As to a lucid body comes the sunbeam.
So much It gives Itself as It finds ardour,
So that as far as charity extends,
O'er it increases the eternal Valour.
And the more people thitherward aspire,
More are there to love well, and more they love there,
And, as a mirror, one reflects the other.1
1 Because thy thought still recurs to earthly goods alone, thou de-
rivest darkness from the light of my instruction. But God, the Infinite
156 Examples of Meekness seen in ecstasy
And if my reasoning appease thee not,
Thou shalt see Beatrice ; and she will fully
Take from thee this and every other longing.
Endeavour, then, that soon may be extinct,
As are the two already, the five wounds
That close themselves again by being painful.'
Even as I wished to say, ' Thou dost appease me,'
I saw that I had reached another circle,
So that my eager eyes made me keep silence.
There it appeared to me that in a vision
Ecstatic on a sudden I was rapt,
And in a temple many persons saw ;
And at the door a woman, with the sweet
Behaviour of a mother, saying : ' Son,
Why in this manner hast Thou dealt with us ?
Lo, sorrowing, Thy father and myself
Were seeking for Thee ' ;— and as here she ceased,
That which appeared at first had disappeared.
XV. 44-93.
Other examples of Meekness followed, presented like
this in inward vision, such being the mode of Terrace III. ;
and Virgil's comment was,
What thou hast seen was that thou mayst not fail
To ope thy heart unto the waters of peace,
Which from the eternal fountain are diffused.
xv. 130-132.
and Ineffable Good dwelling on high, is attracted by the love of the
Blessed, even as a ray by a light-reflecting body. He gives Himself
the more, the more love He finds ; so that the farther charity extends,
the wider the Eternal Beatific Virtue spreads above it. And the more
people are intent on that Supreme Vision, the more is present of^that
same Beatific Virtue, and the more love is there ; and as light is reflected
from mirror to mirror, so love from blessed Soul to Soul
The chastisement of Anger. 157
It is noticeable that in this and in the Seventh Terrace;
but not in any other, Dante shared the torment of the peni-
tents ; in these alone is it of a nature to affect every one
locally present within its range. — He proceeds :
We passed along, athwart the twilight peering
Forward as far as ever eye could stretch
Against the sunbeams serotine and lucent ;
And lo ! by slow degrees a smoke approached
In our direction, sombre as the night,
Nor was there place to hide one's-self therefrom.
This of our eyes and the pure air bereft us.
Darkness of Hell, and of a night deprived
Of every planet under a poor sky,
As much as may be tenebrous with cloud,
Ne'er made unto my sight so thick a veil,
As did that smoke which there enveloped us,
Nor to the feeling of so rough a texture ;
For not an eye it suffered to stay open ;
Whereat mine escort, faithful and sagacious,
Drew near to me and offered me his shoulder.
E'en as a blind man goes behind his guide,
Lest he should wander, or should strike against
Aught that may harm or peradventure kill him,
So went I through the bitter and foul air,
Listening unto my Leader, who said only,
' Look that from me thou be not separated.'
xv. 139-145. xvi. 1-15.
This blind leaning on the Guide is a parable of the only
safe rule during a temptation to Anger — to hold fast to
known, acknowledged, established principles, seen to be
right before the temptation began : Anger having the pro-
perty of annulling for the time all true perception.
158 The Penitents for A nger. Marco L ombardo
Voices I heard, and every one appeared
To supplicate for peace and misericord
The Lamb of God Who takes away our sins.
Still 'Agnus Dei' their exordium was ;
One word there was in all, and metre one,
So that all harmony appeared among them.
1 Master,? I said, * are Spirits those I hear ? '
And he to me : ' Thou apprehendest truly,
And they the knot of anger go unloosing.'
xvi. 16-24.
A voice here commenced a conversation with Dante, the
speaker, who named himself Marco Lombardo, reflecting on
the utter corruption of the world : and as his interlocutor,
fully assenting to this as a fact, requested to be certified
whether its cause lay in the influences of the Heavens or in
the wills of men —
A sigh profound, that grief forced into Ai !
He first sent forth, and then began he : * Brother.
The world is blind, and sooth thou comest from it !
Ye who are living every cause refer
Still upward to the Heavens, as if all things
They of necessity moved with themselves.
If this were so, in you would be destroyed
Free will, nor any justice would there be
In having joy for good, or grief for evil.
The Heavens your movements do initiate,
I say not all ; but granting that I say it,
Light has been given you for good and evil,
And free volition ; which, if some fatigue
In the first battles with the Heavens it suffers,
Afterwards conquers all, if well 'tis nurtured.
To greater force and to a better nature,
Though free, ye subject are, and that creates
treats of Free Will and of Government. 159
The mind in you the Heavens have not in charge.1
Hence, if the present world doth go astray,
In you the cause is, be it sought in you ;
And I therein will now be thy true spy.
Forth from the hand of Him, Who fondles it
.Before it is, like to a little girl
Weeping and laughing in her childish sport,
Issues the simple soul, that nothing knows,
Save that, proceeding from a joyous Maker,
Gladly it turns to that which gives it pleasure.
Of trivial good at first it tastes the savour ;
Is cheated by it, and runs after it,
If guide or rein turn not aside its love.
Hence it behoved laws for a rein to place,
Behoved a king 2 to have, who at the least
Of the true city should discern the tower.
The laws exist, but who sets hand to them ?
No one ; because the shepherd who precedes
Can ruminate, but cleaveth not the hoof ; 3
Wherefore the people that perceives its guide
Strike only at the good for which it hankers,
Feeds upon that, and farther seeketh not.
Clearly canst thou perceive that evil guidance
The cause is that has made the world depraved,
And not that nature is corrupt in you.'
XVI. 64-105.
1 See p. 14. The preceding triplet may be thus paraphrased : To
greater strength than that of the Heavens, even to God's Omnipotence,
and to a better nature, even to God's Goodness, ye retaining free-will
are subject ; and That it is Which creates in you the mind which the
Heavens have not in their power.
2 The Emperor.
s Dante seems partly to apply the prohibition to eat beasts that cleave
not the hoof, in condemnation of the worldliness practically tainting the
Church of his day.
M
1 60 The third P effaced. Virgil shews
Soon after this the discourse was broken off by the
speakers reaching the skirts of the smoke-fog, beyond
which Marco might not go; but Dante passed into the
fading sun-light The trance wherein he now beheld in-
stances of Anger was suddenly dispelled by the radiance
of the Angel, the preface to confirmed cleanness, freedom
and blessedness. Lightened of the third P, under the rising
stars he had just time to complete his fourth ascent ere
darkness suspended his power to move upwards, and af-
forded Virgil opportunity to lay down that theory of the seven
Capital Sins which was in its essential points set forth in
the preceding chapter;1 and which follows here in full.
' Neither Creator nor a creature ever,
Son,' he began, ' was destitute of love
Natural or spiritual ; and thou knowest it.
The natural was ever without error ; 2
But err the other may by evil object,
Or by too much, or by too little vigour.
While in the first it well directed is,
And in the second moderates itself,
It cannot be the cause of sinful pleasure ;
But when to ill it turns, and, with more care
Or lesser than it ought, runs after good,
'Gainst the Creator works His own creation.
Hence thou mayst comprehend that love must be
The seed within yourselves of every virtue,
And every act that merits punishment.
Now inasmuch as never from the welfare
Of its own subject 3 can love turn its sight,
1 See pp. 113, 114.
8 The ' natural love ' is the appetite for things needful for the pre-
servation and well-being of the body.
* The ' subject of love ' is the person feeling it.
how Love may be the seed of Sin. 161
From their own hatred all things are secure ;
And since we cannot think of any being
Standing alone, nor from the First divided,
Of hating Him is all desire cut off.
Hence if, discriminating, I judge well,
The evil that one loves is of one's neighbour,
And this is born in three modes in your clay.
There are, who, by abasement of their neighbour,
Hope to excel, and therefore only long
That from his greatness he may be cast down ;
There are, who power, grace, honour, and renown
Fear they may lose because another rises,
Thence are so sad that the reverse they love ;
And there are those whom injury seems to chafe,
So that it makes them greedy for revenge,
And such must needs shape out another's harm.
This threefold love is wept for down below ;
Now of the other will I have thee hear,
That runneth after good with measure faulty.
Edch one confusedly a good conceives
Wherein the mind may rest, and longeth for it ;
Therefore to overtake it each one strives.
If languid love to look on this attract you,
Or in attaining unto it, this cornice,
After just penitence, torments you for it.
There 's other good that does not make man happy ;
Tis not felicity, 'tis not the good
Essence, of every good the fruit and root.
The love that yields itself too much to this
Above us is lamented in three circles ;
But how tripartite it may be described,
I say not, that thou seek it for thyself.'
xvii. 91-139.
Two more dissertations — on the nature of Love, and on
r 62 The Penitents for Sloth. — The Siren.
Free Will — had brought midnight near, when the drowsi-
ness just creeping over Dante was forcibly dispelled by a
rush of Shades coursing along as if ridden by good-will and
just love. ' Mary ran with haste to the mountain/ was the
watch-shout of Diligence in the van : — c Quick, quick, let
no time be lost for want of love, let energy in well-doing
freshen grace,' was the multitudinous spur-cry of the mass :
— ' Come on with us, and you will find the aperture — our
craving for motion is such that we cannot stop — pardon if
our righteousness seem discourtesy,' was the hurried direc-
tion to the Pilgrims : — then fewest words announced the
speaker Abbot of San Zeno in Verona, assigned his date,
reprobated the sins of the actual intruded Abbot and of
the intruder — and carried him quite out of hearing : — while
already the Sloth of the Israelites who died in the wilder-
ness was being vituperated in the rear.
Dante slept at length; and in the hour preceding the
sunrise of Easter Tuesday dreamed once more — dreamed
of a woman stammering, squinting, lame of foot, maimed of
hands, and ashy pale. He gazed on her, and lo under his
gaze her form straightened, her face flushed, her tongue
loosened to the Siren's song. But a holy Lady — probably
Lucia or Illuminating Grace— arose swift to confound her,
calling on Virgil ; and anon the Siren was laid open, the
spell broken, the dreamer awake. Then after the fourth
benediction and erasure, the fifth ascent began; and the
disciple, yet brooding over the vision which had embodied
to his senses the Worldly and Fleshly sins whereof he was
about to witness the expiation, was thus admonished by the
Master :
ThePenitents for Avarice: Pope Adrian V. 163
' Didst thou behold,' he said, c that old enchantress,
Who sole above us henceforth is lamented ?
Didst thou behold how man is freed from her ?
Suffice it thee, and smite earth with thy heels,
Thine eyes lift upward to the lure, that whirls l
The Eternal King with revolutions vast.'
xix. 58-63.
Soon both Travellers stood on the Fifth Terrace, amid
the sore weeping and wailing of the prostrate Avaricious.
The wonted request for direction was answered courteously,
but as if to another Shade ; and Dante, with Virgil's per-
mission pausing beside the answerer — Pope Adrian v., who
had died A.D. 1276, after forty days' reign — thus addressed
him :
' O Spirit, in whom weeping ripens
That without which to God we cannot turn,
Suspend awhile for me thy greater care.
Who wast thou, and why are your backs turned upwards,
Tell me, and if thou wouldst that I procure thee
Anything there whence living I departed.'
And he to me : * Wherefore our backs the Heaven
Turns to itself, know shalt thou ; but beforehand
Scias quod ego fui successor Petri.
Between Siestri and Chiaveri descends
A river beautiful, and of its name 2
The title of my blood its summit makes.
A month and little more essayed I how
Weighs the great cloak on him from mire who keeps it ;
For all the other burdens seem a feather.
1 Lift up thine eyes to the Heavens, which are God's lure to draw
them upwards.
2 The river Lavagna, which gave the title of Counts of Lavagna to
the Fieschi family, whence sprang Pope Adrian v.
164 How Avarice is chastised.
Tardy, ah woe is me ! was my conversion ;
But when the Roman Shepherd I was made,
Then I discovered life to be a lie.
I saw that there the heart was not at rest,
Nor farther in that life could one ascend ;
Whereby the love of this was kindled in me.
Until that time a wretched soul and parted
From God was I, and wholly avaricious ;
Now, as thou seest, I here am punished for it.
What avarice does is here made manifest
In the purgation of these souls converted,
And no more bitter pain the Mountain has.
Even as our eye did not uplift itself
Aloft, being fastened upon earthly things,
So justice here has merged it in the earth.
As avarice had extinguished our affection
For every good, whereby was action lost,
So justice here doth hold us in restraint,
Bound and imprisoned by the feet and hands ;
And so long as it pleases the just Lord
Shall we remain immovable and prostrate.'
I on my knees had fallen, and wished to speak ;
But even as I began, and he was 'ware,
Only by listening, of my reverence,
' What cause,' he said, ' has downward bent thee thus ? '
And I to him : ' For your own dignity,
Standing, my conscience stung me with remorse.'
' Straighten thy legs, and upward raise thee, brother/
He answered : * Err not, fellow-servant am I
With thee and with the others to one Power.
If e'er that holy, evangelic sound,
Which sayeth neque nubent, thou hast heard,1
1 He means that 'they neither marry,' etc., indicates the abrogation
ia the next world of all earthly relations.
Hugh Capet. 165
Well canst thou see why in this wise I speak.
Now go ; no longer will I have thee linger,
Because thy stay doth incommode my weeping,
With which I ripen that which thou hast said.
On earth I have a grandchild named Alagia,
Good in herself, unless indeed our house
Malevolent may make her by example,
And she alone remains to me on earth.'
Ill strives the will against a better will ;
Therefore, to pleasure him, against my pleasure
I drew the sponge not saturate from the water.
Onward I moved, and onward moved my Leader,
Through vacant places, skirting still the rock,
As on a wall close to the battlements ;
For they that through their eyes pour drop by drop
The malady which all the world pervades,
On the other side too near the verge approach.
xix. 91-145. XX. 1-9.
An invocation of Blessed Mary reduced to the Stable of
Bethlehem, followed by the citation of other examples of
Poverty and Liberality, caught Dante's ear as he slowly
made his way along • and the proclaimer, having gratified
his curiosity by naming himself Hugh Capet, forefather of
the royal line of France, and confirmed his judgment by
heaviest condemnation of the later princes of that line,
concluded by informing him of one point whereof he would
have no other testimony — that the abhorrent recalling of
instances of Avarice is in this Circuit the occupation of the
night
From him already we departed were,
And made endeavour to o'ercome the road
As much as was permitted to our power,
1 66 The earthquake and the hymn.
When I perceived, like something that is falling,
The mountain tremble, whence a chill seized on me,
As seizes him who to his death is going.
Certes so violently shook not Delos,
Before Latona made her nest therein
To give birth to the two eyes of the heaven.
Then upon all sides there began a cry,
Such that the Master drew himself towards me,
Saying, ' Fear not, while I am guiding thee.'
' Gloria in excelsis Deo] all
Were saying, from what near I comprehended,
Where it was possible to hear the cry.
We paused immovable and in suspense,
Even as the shepherds who first heard that song,
Until the trembling ceased, and it was finished.
Then we resumed again our holy path,
Watching the Shades that lay upon the ground
Already turned to their accustomed plaint.
No ignorance ever with so great a strife
Had rendered me importunate to know,
If erreth not in this my memory,
As meditating then I seemed to have ;
Nor out of haste to question did I dare,
Nor of myself I there could ought perceive ;
So I went onward timorous and thoughtful.
The natural thirst, that ne'er is satisfied
Excepting with the water for whose grace
The woman of Samaria besought,
Put me in travail, and haste goaded me
Along the encumbered path behind my Leader,
And I was pitying that righteous vengeance ;
And lo ! in the same manner as Luke writeth
That Christ appeared to two upon the way
The released Shade. 167
From the sepulchral cave already risen,
A Shade appeared to us, and came behind us,
Down gazing on the prostrate multitude,
Nor were we ware of it until it spake,
Saying, ' My brothers, may God give you peace ! '
We turned us suddenly, and Virgilius rendered
To him the countersign thereto conforming.
Thereon began he : 'In the blessed council,
Thee may the court veracious place in peace,
That me doth banish in eternal exile ! '
' How,' said he, and the while we went with speed,
1 If ye are Shades whom God deigns not on high,
Who up His stairs so far has guided you ? '
And said my Teacher : ' If thou note the marks
Which this one bears, and which the Angel traces,
Well shalt thou see he with the good must reign.'
XX. 124-151. XXI. 1-24.
These words, seeming to speak of the Ps as a token
familiar to the inquirer, constitute, so far as I know, the
only evidence that the penitent Shades may, in common
with Dante, receive these marks. Virgil went on :
' But because she who spinneth day and night
For him had not yet drawn the distaff off,
Which Clotho lays for each one and compacts,
His soul, which is thy sister and my own,
In coming upwards could not come alone,
By reason that it sees not in our fashion.
Whence I was drawn from out the ample throat
Of Hell to be his guide, and I shall guide him
As far on as my school has power to lead.
But tell us, if thou knowest, why such a shudder
Erewhile the mountain gave, and why together
All seemed to cry, as far as its moist feet ? '
1 68 The religion of the Mountain.
In asking he so hit the very eye
Of my desire, that merely with the hope
My thirst became the less unsatisfied.
* Naught is there,' he began, ' that without order
May the religion of the mountain feel,
Nor aught that may be foreign to its custom.
Free is it here from every permutation ;
What from itself heaven in itself receiveth
Can be of this the cause, and naught beside ;
Because that neither rain, nor hail, nor snow,
Nor dew, nor hoar-frost any higher falls
Than the short, little stairway of three steps.
Dense clouds do not appear, nor rarefied,
Nor coruscation, nor the daughter1 of Thaumas,
That often upon earth her region shifts ;
No arid vapour any farther rises
Than to the top of the three steps I spake of,
Whereon the Vicar of Peter has his feet.
Lower down perchance it trembles less or more,
But, for the wind that in the earth is hidden
I know not how, up here it never trembled.
It trembles here, whenever any Soul
Feels itself pure, so that it soars, or moves
To mount aloft, and such a cry attends it.
Of purity the will alone gives proof,
Which, being wholly free to change its convent.
Takes by surprise the Soul, and helps it fly.
First it wills well ; but the desire permits not,
Which Divine Justice with the self-same will
There was to sin, upon the torment sets.
And I, who have been lying in this pain
Five hundred years and more, but just now felt
1 Iris : the rainbow.
The released Shade is Papinius Statius. 169
A free volition for a better seat.
Therefore thou heardst the earthquake, and the pious
Spirits along the mountain rendering praise
Unto the Lord, that soon He speed them upwards.'
So said he to him ; and since we enjoy
As much in drinking as the thirst is great,
I could not say how much it did me good.
And the wise Leader : ' Now I see the net
That snares you here, and how ye are set free,
Why the earth quakes, and wherefore ye rejoice.
Now who thou wast be pleased that I may know ;
And why so many centuries thou hast here
Been lying, let me gather from thy words.'
xxi. 25-81.
The released Shade replied that he was the Latin poet
Papinius Statius, author of the Sylvse, the Thebaid and the
Achilleid, the latter work being, however, cut short by his
premature death about A.D. 96. He continued :
' The seeds unto my ardour were the sparks
Of that celestial flame which heated me,
Whereby more than a thousand have been fired ;
Of the j£neid speak I, which to me
A mother was, and was my nurse in song ;
Without this weighed I not a drachma's weight.
And to have lived upon the earth what time
Virgilius lived, I would accept one sun
More than I must ere issuing from my ban.'
These words towards me made Virgilius turn
With looks that in their silence said, ' Be silent ! '
But yet the power that wills cannot do all things ;
For tears and laughter are such pursuivants
Unto the passion from which each springs forth,
In the most truthful least the will they follow.
1 70 Virgil made known to Statiiis.
I only smiled, as one who gives the wink ;
Whereat the Shade was silent, and it gazed
Into mine eyes, where most expression dwells ;
And, ' As thou well mayst consummate a labour
So great,' it said, ' why did thy face just now
Display to me the lightning of a smile ? '
Now am I caught on this side and on that ;
One keeps me silent, one to speak conjures me,
Wherefore I sigh, and I am understood.
' Speak,' said my Master, * and be not afraid
Of speaking, but speak out, and say to him
What he demands with such solicitude.'
Whence I : * Thou peradventure marvellest,
O antique Spirit, at the smile I gave ;
But I will have more wonder seize upon thee.
This one, who guides on high these eyes of mine,
Is that Virgilius, from whom thou didst learn
To sing aloud of men and of the Gods.
If other cause thou to my smile imputedst,
Abandon it as false, and trust it was
Those words which thou hast spoken concerning him.
Already he was stooping to embrace
My Teacher's feet ; but he said to him : ' Brother,
Do not ; for Shade thou art, and Shade beholdest.'
And he uprising : * Now canst thou the sum
Of love which warms me to thee comprehend,
When this our vanity I disremember,
Treating a shadow as substantial thing.'
Already was the Angel left behind us,
The Angel who to the sixth round had turned us,
Having erased one mark from off my face ;
And those who have in justice their desire
Had said to us, ' Beati] in their voices,
With, ' sitioj and without more ended it.
xxi. 94-136. xxn. 1-6.
Statins relates his history. 1 7 1
Note here how expressly Dante appropriates to himself
the cancelling of the P. If the Shades receive these prints
at all, we must I think conclude the erasure to be in their
case effected by their purgative sufferings.
Going up the sixth staircase, Statius at Virgil's request
further detailed his own history. He had endured these
five ages of penance not for the love of money which con-
stitutes Avarice, but for the love of money's worth which
tempts to Prodigality; and which would have consigned
him to the Fourth Circle of Hell had not Virgil's words,
' To what dost not thou, O accursed hunger of gold, drive
the appetite of mortals?' enlightened and corrected him.
And to Virgil he owed y-et a third benefit, a second and
greater enlightenment. He read in the Fourth Eclogue
the celebrated quotation of the Sibylline- prophecy, * The
last era of Curnsean song is now arrived ; the great series
of ages begins anew ; now the Virgin returns, returns the
Saturnian reign ; now a new- Progeny is sent down from the
high Heaven.' * And reading he perceived the agreement
of the words with the preached Gospel, sought out its
preachers, believed and was baptized ; compassionated and
helped his persecuted brethren, yet lacked courage openly
to profess his and their faith, and for this cowardly Sloth
had to race round the Fourth Terrace above four hundred
years ; the .remaining three centuries since his death having
been passed, as we must conclude, lower down.— His nar-
rative ended, he heard from his countryman news of former
friends and other inhabitants of Limbo, interesting to him
on account of their works, or as the heroines of his own
poems. At last Terrace VI. was reached; and the con-
1 Longfellow's translation.
172 The first Tree of emptiness.
versation of the Latin Bards was teaching their art to their
Italian follower —
But soon their sweet discourses interrupted
A tree which midway in the road we found,
With apples sweet and grateful to the smell.
And even as a fir-tree tapers upward
From bough to bough, so downwardly did that ;
I think in order that no one might climb it.
On that side where our pathway was enclosed
Fell from the lofty rock a limpid water,
And spread itself abroad upon the leaves.
The Poets twain unto the tree drew near,
And from among the foliage a voice
Cried : * Of this food ye shall have scarcity.'
Then said : ' More thoughtful Mary was of making
The marriage feast complete and honourable,
Than of her mouth which now for you responds ;
And for their drink the ancient Roman women
With water were content : and Daniel
Disparaged food, and understanding woa
The primal age was beautiful as gold ;
Acorns it made with hunger savourous,
And nectar every rivulet with thirst.
Honey and locusts were the aliments
That fed the Baptist in the wilderness ;
Whence he is glorious, and so magnified
As by the Evangel is revealed to you.'
The while among the verdant leaves mine eyes
I riveted, as he is wont to do
Who wastes his life pursuing little birds,
My more than Father said unto me : ' Son,
Come now ; because the time that is ordained us
More usefully should be apportioned out.'
The Penitents for Gluttony. 1 73
I turned my face and no less soon my steps
Unto the Sages, who were speaking so
They made the going of no cost to me ;
And lo ! were heard a song and a lament,
' Labia mea, Domine] in fashion
Such that delight and dolence it brought forth.
* O my sweet Father, what is this I hear ? '
Began I ; and he answered : ' Shades that go
Perhaps the knot unloosing of their debt.'
In the same way that thoughtful pilgrims do,
Who, unknown people on the road o'ertaking,
Turn themselves round to them, and do not stop,
Even thus, behind us with a swifter motion
Coming and passing onward, gazed upon us
A crowd of Spirits silent and devout.
Each in his eyes was dark and cavernous,
Pallid in face, and so emaciate
That from the bones the skin did shape itself.
xxn. 130-154. xxni. 1-24.
These Shades were macerated out of all knowledge ; but
one of them, Forese de' Donati, recognising in Dante a
friend, a broth er-in-law, and — as will presently appear by
the Poet's own words to him — a companion in more or less
of evil, was in turn recognised by his voice. He could not
however obtain information on any one subject till he had
satisfied Dante's strong desire to know the cause of his
wasted condition.
' That face of thine which dead I once bewept,
Gives me for weeping now no lesser grief,'
I answered him, ' beholding it so changed !
But tell me, for God's sake, what thus denudes you ?
Make me not speak while I am marvelling,
1 74 Forese de Donati converses
For ill speaks he who 's full of other longings.'
And he to me : ' From the eternal counsel
Falls power into the water and the tree
Behind us left, whereby I grow so thin.
All of this people who lamenting sing,
For following beyond measure appetite
In hunger arid thirst are here re-sanctified.
Desire to eat and drink enkindles in us
The scent that issues from the apple-tree,
And from the spray that sprinkles o'er the verdure ;
And not a single time alone, this ground
Encircling, is renewed our pain, —
I say our pain, and ought to say our solace, —
For the same wish doth lead us to the tree
Which led the Christ rejoicing to say Eli,
When with His veins He liberated us.'
And I to him : ' Forese, from that day
When for a better life thou changedst worlds,
Up to this time five years have not rolled round.
If sooner were the power exhausted in thee
Of sinning more, than thee the hour surprised
Of that good sorrow which to God reweds us,
How hast thou come up hitherward already ?
I thought to find thee down there underneath,
Where time for time doth restitution make.'
And he to me : * Thus speedily has led me
To drink of the sweet wormwood of these torments,
My Nella with her overflowing tears ;
She with her prayers devout and with her sighs
Has drawn me from the coast where one awaits,
And from the other circles set me free.
So much more dear and pleasing is to God
My little widow, whom so much I loved,
As in good works she is the more alone ;
with Dante on various matters. \ 75
For the Barbagia of Sardinia l
By far more modest in its women is
Than the Barbagia I have left her in.
O brother sweet, what wilt thou have me say ?
A future time is in my sight already,
To which this hour will not be very old,
When from the pulpit shall be interdicted
To the unblushing womankind of Florence
To go about displaying breast and paps.
What savages were e'er, what Saracens,
Who stood in need, to make them covered go,
Of spiritual or other discipline ?
But if the shameless women were assured
Of what swift Heaven prepares for them, already
Wide open would they have their mouths to howl ;
For if my foresight here deceive me not,
They shall be sad ere he has bearded cheeks
Who now is hushed to sleep with lullaby.
O brother, now no longer hide thee from me ;
See that not only I, but all these people
Are gazing there, where thou dost veil the sun.'
Whence I to him ; * If thou bring back to mind
• What thou with me hast been and I with thee,
The present memory will be grievous still.
Out of that life he turned me back who goes
In front of me, two days agone when round
The sister of him yonder showed herself/
And to the sun I pointed. ' Through the deep
Night of the truly dead has this one led me,
With this true flesh, that follows after him.
Thence his encouragements have led me up,
Ascending and still circling round the mount
1 A wild mountainous district, almost barbarous.
N
176 The entrance on the Terrace of Fire.
That you doth straighten, whom the world made crooked.
He says that he will bear me company,
Till I shall be where Beatrice will be ;
There it behoves me to remain without him.
This is Virgilius, who thus says to me,'
And him I pointed at ; ' the other is
That Shade for whom just now shook every slope
Your realm, that from itself discharges him.'
xxiii. 55-133.
Many Shades were then pointed out by name :— consider-
ing that this had been done in every preceding Circuit, one
is somewhat surprised at Forese's statement that it is allowed
here on account of their altered semblance. At last the
second Tree was seen, and its warnings against Gluttony
heard. About a mile further on, at two o'clock P.M., the
usual processes set free the Poets for the seventh ascent ;
and as they performed it, Statius explained the nature and
formation of the shade-body.
And now unto the last of all the circles
Had we arrived and to the right hand turned,
And were attentive to another care.
There the embankment shoots forth flames of fire,
And upward doth the cornice breathe a blast
That drives them back, and from itself sequesters.
Hence we must needs go on the open side,
And one by one ; and I did fear the fire
On this side, and on that the falling down.
My Leader said : ' Along this place one ought
To keep upon the eyes a tightened rein,
Seeing that one so easily might err.'
' Summa Deus dementia] in the bosom
Of the great burning chanted then I heard,
The Penitents for L asciviousness. 1 7 7
Which made me no less eager to turn round ;
And Spirits saw I walking through the flame ;
Wherefore I looked, to my own steps and their*.
Apportioning my sight from time to time.
After the close which to that hymn is made,
Aloud they shouted, * Virum non cognosce ' ; *
Then recommenced the hymn with voices low.
xxv. 109-129.
On this Terrace Dante talked with the poet Guido
Guinicelli of Bologna, a man of science, and one of the
earliest writers in pure Italian ; and was by him asked to
say an intercessory Paternoster up to the point where it
ceases to be applicable to the impeccable. The Provencal
troubadour Arnault Daniel, being requested to tell his
name, made graceful reply in his native tongue ; and as
he wholly disappeared within the fire, the Pilgrims stood
opposite the eighth staircase.
2 As when he vibrates forth his earliest rays,
In regions where his Maker shed His blood,
(The Ebro falling under lofty Libra,
And waters in the Ganges burnt with noon,)
So stood the Sun : 2 hence was the day departing,
When the glad Angel of God appeared to us.
Outside the flame he stood upon the verge,
And chanted forth, lBeati mundo corde]
In voice by far more living than our own.
Then : ' No one farther goes, souls sanctified,
1 The B. Virgin's words as an example of Chastity, ' I know not a
man. '
8 ' When the Sun is rising at Jerusalem, it is setting on the Mountain
of Purgatory ; it is midnight in Spain, with Libra in the meridian, and
noon in India.'
178 Dante shrinks from the
If first the fire bite not ; within it enter,
And be not deaf unto the song beyond.'
XXVII. I- 12.
We must conclude that nowhere round this whole Ter-
race is there any break in the flame-wreath; wherefore
no penitent Shade but must needs pass through it, whether
tainted or not with the special sin chastised by sojourning
within it. The reason may perhaps be that S. Paul appa-
rently includes each and every soul that has built upon the
One Foundation ' wood, hay, stubble,' in the class saved
' so as by fire.' x And Dante himself elsewhere uses * the
fire,' ' the temporal fire,' as terms equivalent to ' Purga-
tory,'3
When we were close beside him thus he said ;
Wherefore e'en such became I, when I heard him,
As he is who is put into the grave.
Upon my clasped hands I straightened me,
Scanning the fire and vividly recalling
The human bodies I had once seen burned.
XXVIL 13-18.
Yes, and in that awful conflict he must have called up
with more agonizing intensity a more appalling vision — for
he was himself under sentence of death by fire should he
again be found in Florence.
Towards me turned themselves my good Conductors,
And unto me Virgilius said : ' My son,
Here may indeed be torment, but not death.
Remember thee, remember ! and if I
On Geryon have safely guided thee,
1 I Cor. iii. 10-15. 2 Inf. i. 119. Pur. xxvii. 127.
Virgil persuades him to pass through. 1 79
What shall I do now I am nearer God ?
Believe for certain, shouldst thou stand a full
Millennium in the bosom of this flame,
It could not make thee bald a single hair.
And if perchance thou think that I deceive thee,
Draw near to it, and put it to the proof
With thine own hands upon thy garment's hem.
Now lay aside, now lay aside all fear,
Turn hitherward, and onward come securely ; '
And I still motionless, and 'gainst my conscience !
Seeing me stand still motionless and stubborn,
Somewhat disturbed he said : ' Now look thou, Son,
'Twixt Beatrice and thee there is this wall.'
As at the name of Thisbe oped his lids.
The dying Pyramus, and gazed upon her,
What time the mulberry became vermilion,
Even thus, my obduracy being softened,
I turned to my wise Guide, hearing the name
That in my memory evermore is welling.
Whereat he wagged his head, and said : ' How now ?
Shall we stay on this side ? ' then smiled as one
Does at a child who 's vanquished by an apple.
Then into the fire in front of me he entered,
Beseeching Statius to come after me,
Who a long way before divided us.
When I was in it, into molten glass
I would have cast me to refresh myself,
So without measure was the burning there !
And my sweet Father, to encourage me,
Discoursing still of Beatrice went on,
Saying : ' Her eyes I seem to see already ! '
A voice, that on the other side was singing.
Directed us, and we, attent alone
On that, came forth where the ascent began.
180 Dante's dream of Leah and Rachel.
' VenUe, benedicti Patris mei}
Sounded within a splendour, which was there
Such it o'ercame me, and I could not look.
' The sun departs,' it added, ' and night cometh ;
Tarry ye not, but onward urge your steps,
So long as yet the west becomes not dark.'
xxvn. 19-63.
But no haste availed : Dante's shadow went out before
him with the Sun's last ray behind him ; not another up-
ward step was possible ; and he with his two companions
lay down for the night, each on a several stair between the
high walls of the strait ascent.
Little could there be seen of things without ;
But through that little I beheld the stars
More luminous and larger than their wont.
Thus ruminating, and,beholding these,
Sleep seized upon me, — sleep, that oftentimes
Before a deed is done has tidings of it.
It was the hour, I think, when from the East
First on the mountain Cytherea beamed,
Who with the fire of love seems always burning ;
Youthful and beautiful in dreams methought
I saw a lady walking in a meadow,
Gathering flowers ; and singing she was saying :
* Know whosoever may my name demand
That I am Leah, and go moving round
My beauteous hands to make myself a garland.
To please me at the mirror, here I deck me,
But never does my sister Rachel leave
Her looking-glass, and sitteth all day long.
To see her beauteous eyes as eager is she,
As ! am to adorn me with my hands ;
Her, seeing, and me, doing satisfies.'
xxvn. 88-108.
The ascent from P^t,rgatory. 1 8 1
Leah is the symbol of the Active Life ; Rachel of the
Contemplative, which is the more perfect. But neither wife
could Jacob obtain without previous long and toilsome
service. Even so has the Mount of Purgation now led up
to the lower or Terrestrial Paradise of Action ; which again
will serve as the stepping-stone to the higher or Celestial
Paradise of Contemplation.
And now Easter Wednesday is dawning.
And now before the antelucan splendours
That unto pilgrims the more grateful rise,
As, home-returning, less remote they lodge,
The darkness fled away on every side,
And slumber with it ; whereupon I rose,
Seeing already the great Masters risen.
' That apple sweet,1 which through so many branches
The care of mortals goeth in pursuit of,
To-day shall put in peace thy hungerings.'
Speaking to me, Virgilius of such words
As these made use ; and never were there guerdons
That could in pleasantness compare with these.
Such longing upon longing came upon me
To be above, that at each step thereafter
For flight I felt in me the pinions growing.
When underneath us was the stairway all
Run o'er, and we were on the highest step,
Virgilius fastened upon me his eyes,
And said : ' The temporal fire and the eternal,
Son, thou hast seen, and to a place art come
Where of myself no farther I discern.
By intellect and art I here have brought thee ;
Take thine own pleasure for thy guide henceforth ;
1 True Happiness.
i 8 2 Dante pronounced whole and free.
Beyond the steep ways and the narrow art thou.
Behold the sun, that shines upon thy forehead ;
Behold the grass, the flowerets, and the shrubs
Which of itself alone this land produces.
Until rejoicing come the beauteous eyes
Which weeping caused me to come unto thee,
Thou canst sit down, and thou canst walk among thein.
Expect no more or word or sign from me ;
Free and upright and sound is thy free-will,
And error were it not to do its bidding ;
Thee o'er thyself I therefore crown and mitre ! '
xxvn. 109-1 4.2.
A
CHAPTER IX.
THE GARDEN OF EDEN, AND THE DESCENT
OF BEATRICE.
Questo luogo, eletto
All' umana natura per suo nido.
This place
Elect to human nature for its nest
Pur. xxvui. 77, 78.
ND so the crowned King and mitred Priest entered
upon his kingdom and temple of Paradise.
Eager already to search in and round
The heavenly forest, dense and living-green,
Which tempered to the eyes the new-born day,
Withouten more delay I left the bank,
Taking the level country slowly, slowly
Over the soil that everywhere breathes fragrance.
A softly-breathing air, that no mutation
Had in itself, upon the forehead smote me
No heavier blow than of a gentle wind,
Whereat the branches, lightly tremulous,
Did all of them bow downward toward that side
Where its first shadow casts the Holy Mountain ;
Yet not from their upright direction swayed,
So that the little birds upon their tops
Should leave the practice of each art of theirs ;
But with full ravishment the hours of prime,
Singing, received they in the midst of leaves,
J 84 Matilda appears : who is she f
That ever bore a burden to their rhymes,
Such as from branch to branch goes gathering on
Through the pine forest on the shore of Chiassi,
When Eolus unlooses the Sirocco.
Already my slow steps had carried me
Into the ancient wood so far, that I
Could not perceive where I had entered it.
And lo ! my further course a stream cut off,
Which tow'rd the left hand with its little waves
Bent down the grass that on its margin sprang.
All waters that on earth most limpid are
Would seem to have within themselves some mixture
Compared with that which nothing doth conceal,
Although it moves on with a brown, brown current
Under the shade perpetual, that never
Ray of the sun lets in, nor of the moon.
With feet I stayed, and with mine eyes I passed
Beyond the rivulet, to look upon
The great variety of the fresh May.
And there appeared to me (even as appears
Suddenly something that doth turn aside
Through very wonder every other thought)
A lady all alone, who went along
Singing and culling floweret after floweret,
With which her pathway was all painted over.
Pur. xxvni. 1-42.
This lady is named Matilda, and no further denned. But
as any ' Elizabeth ' as barely named in an English poem
would be unhesitatingly identified with our great Queen
Elizabeth, so is it scarcely possible not to identify this
lovely poetic vision with Matilda Countess of Tuscany, of
unique celebrity in mediaeval history. Born somewhat
before the middle of the eleventh century, she succeeded
Dante accosts Matilda. 185
her father Boniface in his vast possessions, comprising
not only Tuscany, but Mantua, Parma, Reggio, Placentia,
Ferrara, Modena, a part of Umbria, the duchy of Spoleto,
Verona, almost all the country afterwards called the Patri-
mony of S. Peter, and part of the Marches of Ancona. She
adhered with the utmost devotion to Pope Gregory VIL,
and to his successors, in all their contests with the Emperors,
and dying childless bequeathed her territories to the Holy
See. Her unvarying espousal of the Papal as opposed to
the Imperial cause seems the only point that can reason-
ably cast a doubt on the identity of the two Matildas,
Dante holding, as we have seen, a view essentially different.
But in any case the_Jlawej^ailler of 'Edeji,Jhe_^iilyper-
manenjLiatabitant appearing there, would seem to be the
realization and development of the dream-Leah, and so the
Christian type of the Active Life in the Paradise of Earth :
Beatrice standing in the same relation to the dream-Rachel,
and to the Contemplative Life in the Paradise of Heaven.
1 Ah, beauteous lady, who in rays of love
Dost warm thyself, if I may trust to looks,
Which the heart's witnesses are wont to be,
May the desire come unto thee to draw
Near to this river's bank,' I said to her,
* So much that I may hear what thou art singing.
Thou makest me remember where and what
Proserpina that moment was when lost
Her mother her, and she herself the Spring.'
As turns herself, with feet together pressed
And to the ground, a lady who is dancing,
And hardly puts one foot before the other,
On the vermilion and the yellow flowerets
She turned towards me, not in other wise
J 86 Matilda joys in the works of God.
Than maiden who her modest eyes casts down ;
And my entreaties made to be content,
So near approaching, that the dulcet sound
Came unto me together with its meaning.
As soon as she was where the grasses are
Bathed by the waters of the beauteous river,
To lift her eyes she granted me the boon.
I do not think there shone so great a light
Under the lids of Venus, when transfixed
By her own son, beyond his usual custom ! x
Erect upon the other bank she smiled,
Bearing full many colours in her hands,
Which that high land produces without seed.
Apart three paces did the river make us ;
But Hellespont where Xerxes passed across,
(A curb still to all human arrogance,)
More hatred from Leander did not suffer
For rolling between Sestos and Abydos,
Than that from me, because it oped not then.
' Ye are new-comers ; and because I smile,'
Began she, ' peradventure, in this place
Elect to human nature for its nest,
Some apprehension keeps you marvelling ;
But the psalm Delectasti giveth light
Which has the power to uncloud your intellect.'
xxvni. 43-81.
' Delectasti ' begins verse 5 of Psalm xci. (Vulgate) 2 which
says, ' Thou, Lord, hast made me glad through Thy works :
and I will rejoice in giving praise for the operations of Thy
hands/ Matilda having thus explained the source of her
smiling joy, declared herself ready to answer any farther
1 When he accidentally shot into her the arrow of love for Adonis.
2 In the English Prayer-Book version, Psalm xcii. 4.
The climate and productions of Eden. 187
questions ; and Dante was not slow to ask how breeze and
stream could exist where, as Statius had told him, there
was neither wind nor rain. The reply taught him first of
the breeze : — The winds and rains from which Eden by its
upheaval is exempt, are those caused below the Gate of
S. Peter by the Sun's heat drawing up exhalations from
Earth and Water. But the movement of the Heavens from
East to West carries with it that of the Spheres of Air and
^Ether (or Fire) : — in the Sphere of Air the weather-vicissi-
tudes completely break up this movement and render it
insensible, while in the free Sphere of ^Ether it is unbroken
and sensible, and constitutes the breeze wherewith the
forest is tremulous and musical. The stricken plants in
their turn impart to that breeze a virtue which it then in
its gyration diffuses all around, fertilizing the generous soil
with abundant plant-growth diverse in qualities. The
Paradisiacal table-land contains within itself every kind of
seed producing fruit ; and if perchance any plant in Earth's
baser hemisphere seem to spring up without seed, its ger-
mination must be attributed to some seed whirled and
dropped from Eden ; albeit no such fruit may be hoped for
here as it there would have brought forth. And as to the
stream —
* The water which thou seest springs not from vein
Restored by vapour that the cold condenses,
Like to a stream that gains or loses breath ;
But issues from a fountain safe and certain,
Which by the Will of God as much regains
As it discharges, open on two sides.
Upon this side with virtue it descends,
Which takes away all memory of sin ;
i88 The Rivers of Eden. The Golden Age.
On that, of every good deed done restores it.
Here Lethe, as upon the other side
Eunoe, it is called ; and worketh not
If first on either side it be not tasted.
This every other savour doth transcend ;
And notwithstanding slaked so far may be
Thy thirst, that I reveal to thee no more,
I '11 give thee a corollary still in grace,
Nor think my speech will be to thee less dear
If it spread out beyond my promise to thee.
Those who in ancient times have feigned in song
The Age of Gold and its felicity,
Dreamed of this place perhaps upon Parnassus.
Here was the human race in innocence ;
Here evermore was Spring, and every fruit ;
This is the nectar of which each one speaks.'
Then backward did I turn me wholly round
Unto my Poets, and saw that with a smile
They had been listening to these closing words ;
Then to the beautiful lady turned mine eyes.
Singing like unto an enamoured lady
She, with the ending of her words, continued :
' Beati quorum tecta sunt peccata^
And even as Nymphs, that wandered all alone
Among the sylvan shadows, sedulous
One to avoid and one to see the sun,
She then against the stream moved onward, going
Along the bank, and I abreast of her,
Her little steps with little steps attending.
Between her steps and mine were not a hundred,
When equally the margins gave a turn,
In such a way, that to the East I faced.
1 ' Blessed is he — whose sin is covered.' — Ps. xxxii. I.
The Procession of the Church militant. 189
Nor even thus our way continued far
Before the lady wholly turned herself
Unto me, saying, { Brother, look and listen ! '
And lo ! a sudden lustre ran across
On every side athwart the spacious forest,
Such that it made me doubt if it were lightning.
But since the lightning ceases as it comes,
And that continuing brightened more and more,
Within my thought I said, ' What thing is this ? '
And a delicious melody there ran
Along the luminous air, whence holy zeal
Made me rebuke the hardihood of Eve ;
For there where earth and heaven obedient were,
The woman only, and but just created,
Could not endure to stay 'neath any veil ;
Underneath which had she devoutly stayed,
I sooner should have tasted those delights
Ineffable, and for a longer time.
xxviil. 121-148. xxix. 1-30.
Marvellous indeed was the procession now advancing
along Matilda's side of Lethe. The brightness quickly
resolved itself into seven golden candlesticks all aflame,
the melody into distinct Hosannas ; and here a wondering
look towards Virgil was answered only in kind, for Pagan
Rome and Limbo taught not of the songs of Sion, nor of
the Sevenfold Gifts of the Holy Ghost. On and on,
majestically slow, and preceding a white-robed train of
Patriarchs, Prophets, and others who died in faith not
having received the promises, came the seven flames, each
trailing behind it a luminous aerial pennon of such hue that
the seven pennons completed the rainbow typical of the
seven Sacraments. Then followed, two and two, twenty-
1 90 The Procession continued.
four Elders crowned with lilies ; the twenty-four Books of
the Old Testament x personified and crowned with the grace
of Faith. Then the four Living Beings of Ezekiel and
S. John, symbolic of the four Gospels : and in the square
whereof they formed the corners the chariot of the Church,
resting on the two wheels of the two Covenants, and
drawn by the Gryphon blended of golden-plumed Eagle
and Lion white and ruddy, meet emblem of our Blessed
Lord in His two Natures Divine and Human ; with Feet
resting on Earth and Wings stretching sheer up into Heaven.
Beside the Christian right wheel danced three damsels,
white, green, and red — the Theological Virtues : beside the
Jewish left wheel four purple-robed — the Cardinal Virtues ;
triple-eyed Prudence leading her sisters. — Then followed
the Writers as quasi-personifications of the remaining Books
of the New Testament, two of them in consequence pre-
sented and re-presented under varying aspects. With S.
Paul bearing the sword of the Spirit walked in physician's
garb his historian S. Luke ; behind them SS. James, Peter,
John, and Jude, in humble seeming as authors of the
short Canonical Epistles ; last of all S. John once more,
aged and solitary, in keen-faced slumber as the Seer of
the Apocalypse. These were habited like their elder
Brethren, excepting that their wreaths, as emblematic of
Love rather than of Faith, were of roses and other red
flowers.
1 The 45 books of the Old Testament according to the Vulgate are
thus counted as 24. The Pentateuch = 5 ; Joshua, Judges, Ruth = 3 ;
4 of Kings = I ; 2 of Chronicles = i ; 2 of Ezra = I ; Tobit, Judith,
Esther, Job = 4 ; Psalms = I j the Sapiential Books = 4 ; the Song
of Songs = i ; 5 Major Prophets = i ; 12 Minor Prophets = i ; 2
of Maccabees = i.
Beatrice descends. 191
But now thunder gave the signal for a halt ; and Solomon
from among the Twenty-four sang thrice 'Come, Spouse,
from Lebanon;' and a many-voiced echo went up from his
companions.
Even as the Blessed at the final summons
Shall rise up quickened each one from his cavern,
Uplifting light the reinvested flesh,
So upon that celestial chariot
A hundred rose ad vocem tanti sem's,1
Ministers and messengers of life eternal.
They all were saying, ' Benedictiis gut venis] 2
And, scattering flowers above and round about,
* Manibus o date lilia plenis? *
Ere now have I beheld, as day began, -
The eastern hemisphere all tinged with rose,
And the other heaven with fair serene adorned ;
And the sun's face, uprising, overshadowed
So that by tempering influence of vapours
For a long interval the eye sustained it ;
Thus in the bosom of a cloud of flowers
Which from those hands angelical ascended,
And downward fell again inside and out,
Over her snow-white veil with olive cinct
Appeared a lady under a green mantle,
Vested in colour of the living flame.
And my own spirit, that already now
So long a time had been, that in her presence
Trembling with awe it had not stood abashed,
Without more knowledge having by mine eyes,
1 ' At the voice of so venerable an old man.'
• ' Blessed art thou that comest.'
a sEneid vi. 833 : Give lilies in handfuls.
O
f 92 Virgil has vanished.
Through occult virtue that from her proceeded
Of ancient love the mighty influence felt.
As soon as on my vision smote the power
Sublime, that had already pierced me through
Ere from my boyhood I had yet come forth,
To the left hand I turned with that reliance
With which the little child runs to his mother,
When he has fear, or when he is afflicted,
To say unto Virgilius : ' Not a drachm
Of blood remains in me, that does not tremble ;
I know the traces of the ancient flame.'
But us Virgilius of himself deprived
Had left, Virgilius, sweetest of all fathers,
Virgilius, to whom I for safety gave me :
Nor whatsoever lost the ancient mother l
Availed my cheeks now purified from dew,
That weeping they should not again be darkened.
xxx. 13-54.
Crownless Human Science had given place to Divine
Science olive-crowned, grace-vested, having an Unction
from the Holy One and knowing all tilings ; the Leader,
Lord and Master of Intellect to the Treasure of Memory
and of Love. Even at the point where Dante had laid her
down dead would he now have taken her up living; but
she would take him up, not such as in vision he went forth
of her death-chamber, but such as intervening life had
made and set him before her then and there.
* Dante, because Virgilius has departed
Do not weep yet, do not weep yet awhile ;
For by another sword thou needs must weep.'
1 The terrestrial Paradise forfeited by Eve.
Beatrice begins her reproof. 193
E'en as an admiral, who on poop and prow
Comes to behold the people that are working
In other ships, and cheers them to well-doing,
Upon the left-hand border of the car,
When at the sound I turned of my own name,
Which of necessity is here recorded,
I saw the Lady, who erewhile appeared
Veiled underneath the angelic festival,
Direct her eyes to me across the river.
Although the veil, that from her head descended,
Encircled with the foliage of Minerva,
Did not permit her to appear distinctly,
In attitude still royally majestic
Continued she, like unto one who speaks,
And keeps his warmest utterance in reserve :
' Look at me well ; in sooth I 'm Beatrice !
How didst thou deign to come unto the Mountain ?
Didst thou not know that man is happy here ? '
Mine eyes fell downward into the clear fountain,
But, seeing myself therein, I sought the grass.
So great a shame did weigh my forehead down.
As to the son the mother seems superb,
So she appeared to me ; for somewhat bitter
Tasteth the savour of severe compassion.
Silent became she, and the Angels sang
Suddenly, ' In Te, Do mine, speravi: ' l
But beyond pedes meos^ did not pass.
Even as the snow among the living rafters
Upon the back of Italy 2 congeals,
Blown on and drifted by Sclavonian winds,
1 'In Thee, O Lord, have I hoped' — 'my feet.'— Psalm xxx. 2-9,
Vulgate ; xxxi. 1-9, English Prayer-Book version.
? The Apennines
194 Beatrice addresses the Angels:
And then, dissolving, trickles through itself
Whene'er the land that loses shadow breathes,1
So that it seems a fire that melts a taper ;
E'en thus was I without a tear or sigh,
Before the song of those who sing for ever
After the music of the eternal spheres.
But when I heard in their sweet melodies
Compassion for me, more than had they said,
' O wherefore, lady, dost thou thus upbraid him ? '
The ice, that was about my heart congealed,
To air and water changed, and in my anguish
Through mouth and eyes came gushing from my breast
She, on the right-hand border of the car
Still firmly standing, to those holy beings
Thus her discourse directed afterwards ;
* Ye keep your watch in the eternal day,
So that nor night nor sleep can steal from you
One step the ages make upon their path ;
Therefore my answer is with greater care,
That he may hear me who is weeping yonder,
So that the sin and dole be of one measure.
Not only by the work of those great wheels,
That destine every seed unto some end,
According as the stars are in conjunction,
But by the largess of celestial graces.
Which have such iofty vapours for their rain
That near to them our sight approaches not,
Such had this man become in his new life
Potentially, that every righteous habit
Would have made admirable proof in him ;
But so much more malignant and more savage
Becomes the land untilled and with bad seed,
i When the wind blows from Africa, shadowless at noon within the
Tropics.
turns her discourse to Dante. 195
The more good earthly vigour it possesses.
Some time did I sustain him with my look ;
Revealing unto him my youthful eyes,
I led him with me turned in the right way.
As soon as ever of my second age l
I was upon the threshold and changed life,
Himself from me he took and gave to others.
When from the flesh to spirit I ascended
And beauty and virtue were in me increased,
I was to him less dear and less delightful ;
And into ways untrue he turned his steps,
Pursuing the false images of good,
That never any promises fulfil ;
Nor prayef for inspiration me availed,
By means of which in dreams and otherwise
I called him back, so little did he heed them.
So low he fell, that all appliances
For his salvation were already short,
Save showing him the people of perdition.
For this I visited the gates of death,
And unto him, who so far up has led him,
My intercessions were with weeping borne.
God's lofty fiat would be violated,
If Lethe should be passed, and if such viands
Should tasted be, withouten any scot
Of penitence, that gushes forth in tears.'
' O thou who art beyond the sacred river/
Turning to me the point of her discourse,
That edgewise even had seemed to me so keen,
She recommenced, continuing without pause,
' Say, say if this be true ; to such a charge
1 The second age, or Adolescence, was reckoned to begin at 25, of
which Beatrice wanted 9 months at her death.
196 Dante makes confession:
Thy own confession needs must be conjoined.'
My faculties were in so great confusion,
That the voice moved, but sooner was extinct
Than by its organs it was set at large.
Awhile she waited j then she said : ' What thinkest ?
Answer me ; for the mournful memories
In thee not yet are by the waters injured.'
Confusion and dismay together mingled
Forced such a Yes ! from out my mouth, that sight
Was needful to the understanding of it.
Even as a cross-bow breaks, when 'tis discharged
Too tensely drawn the bowstring and the bow,
And with less force the arrow hits the mark,
So I gave way beneath that heavy burden,
Outpouring in a torrent tears and sighs,
And the voice flagged upon its passage forth.
Whence she to me : ' In those desires of mine
Which led thee to the loving of that good,
Beyond which there is nothing to aspire to,
What trenches lying traverse or what chains
Didst thou discover, that of passing onward
Thou shouldst have thus despoiled thee of the hope ?
And what allurements or what vantages
Upon the forehead of the others l showed,
That thou shouldst turn thy footsteps unto them ? '
After the heaving of a bitter sigh,
Hardly had I the voice to make response,
And with fatigue my lips did fashion it.
Weeping I said : ' The things that present were
With their false pleasure turned aside my steps,
Soon as your countenance concealed itself.'
And she : ' Shouldst thou be silent, or deny
1 The other desires, i.e. of worldly goods and pleasures.
is forgiven, yet further rebuked. 197
What thou confessest, not less manifest
Would be thy fault, by such a Judge 'tis known.
But when from one's own cheeks comes bursting forth
The accusal of the sin, in our tribunal
Against the edge the wheel doth turn itself.
But still, that thou mayst feel a greater shame
For thy transgression, and another time
Hearing the Sirens thou mayst be more strong,
Cast down the seed of weeping and attend :
So shalt thou hear, how in an opposite way
My buried flesh should have directed thee.
Never to thee presented art or nature
Pleasure so great as the fair limbs wherein
I was enclosed, which scattered are in earth.
And if the highest pleasure thus did fail thee
By reason of my death, what mortal thing
Should then have drawn thee into its desire ?
Thou oughtest verily at the first shaft
Of things fallacious to have risen up
To follow me, who was no longer such.
Thou oughtest not to have stooped thy pinions downward
To wait for further blows, or little girl,
Or other vanity of such brief use.
The callow birdlet waits for two or three,
But to the eyes of those already fledged,
In vain the net is spread or shaft is shot.'
Even as children silent in their shame
Stand listening with their eyes upon the ground,
And conscious of their fault, and penitent ;
So was I standing ; and she said : ' If thou
In hearing sufferest pain, lift up thy beard
And thou shalt feel a greater pain in seeing.'
With less resistance is a robust holm
Uprooted, either by a native wind
198 Dante sinks under the memory of sin :
Or else by that from regions of larbas,1
Than I upraised at her command my chin :
And when she by the beard the face demanded,
Well I perceived the venom of her meaning.
And as my countenance was lifted up,
Mine eye perceived those creatures beautiful
Had rested from the strewing of the flowers ;
And, still but little reassured, mine eyes
Saw Beatrice turned round towards the monster,8
That is one person only in two natures.
Beneath her veil, beyond the margent green,
She seemed to me far more her ancient self
To excel, than others here, when she was here.
So pricked me then the thorn of penitence,
That of all other things the one which turned me
Most to its love became the most my foe.
Such self-conviction stung me at the heart
O'erpowered I fell, and what I then became
She knoweth who had furnished me the cause.
xxx. 55-145. xxxi. 1-90.
This sufficed. The memory of sin had done its work,
and might now be for ever left behind in the waters of
Lethe. Ere yet Dante had recovered consciousness Ma-
1 'larbas, King of Gaetulia, from whom Dido bought the land for
building Carthage.'
a Orig. Jiera=7t)ild animal ; not necessarily, though in modern Italian
usually, =beast of prey. This perplexing word is rendered by various
translators in various ways. Mr. Johnston simply substitutes ' Gry-
phon ; ' an expedient I on the whole prefer, considering the extreme
difficulty of rendering fiera literally, and the surpassing sacredness of
the only interpretation I, in common with nearly all commentators,
have attached to the symbol. It is »ot, however, the only interpreta-
tion suggested by Mr. Longfellow. And I would remind the reader
that, whatever may be the popular use of the term monster, it is pri-
marily equivalent to prodigy.
drinks its oblivion in Lethe. 199
tilda had immersed him up to the throat ; then having
drawn him conscious to the opposite bank she plunged his
head for the draught of oblivion. Next, graciously owned
and led by the Four Virtues, he was strengthened to behold
within the fixed and veiled eyes of Beatrice the double-
natured changeless Gryphon changefully mirrored in each
nature alternately. And finally, at the acceptable inter-
cession of the Three Virtues, the unveiled face beamed full
upon him, and he beheld that second beauty into which the
first had been transfigured.
After this followed visions embodying the history of the
Church and of the Empire, with an exhortation from Bea-
trice to bear faithful witness of the things heard and seen : —
and behold the time was come to drink of Eunoe and revive
the memory of good.
And more coruscant and with slower steps
The sun was holding the meridian circle,
Which, with the point of view, shifts here and there
When halted (as he cometh to a halt,
Who goes before a squadron as its escort,
If something new he find upon his way)
" The ladies seven at a dark shadow's edge,
Such as, beneath green leaves and branches black,
The Alp upon its frigid border wears.
In front of them the Tigris and Euphrates
Methought I saw forth issue from one fountain,
And slowly part, like friends, from one another.
' O light, O glory of the human race !
What stream is this which here unfolds itself
From out one source, and from itself withdraws ? '
For such a prayer, 'twas said unto me, ' Pray
Matilda that she tell thee ; ' and here answered,
2oo Dante drinks of EUJIOC.
As one does who doth free himself from blame,
The beautiful lady : ' This and other things
Were told to him by me ; and sure I am
The water of Lethe has not hid them from him
And Beatrice : ' Perhaps a greater care,
Which oftentimes our memory takes away,
Has made the vision of his mind obscure.
But Eunoe behold, that yonder rises ;
Lead him to it, and, as thou art accustomed,
Revive again the half-dead virtue in him.'
Like gentle soul, that maketh no excuse,
But makes its own will of another's will
As soon as by a sign it is disclosed,
Even so, when she had taken hold of me,
The beautiful lady moved, and unto Statius
Said, in her womanly manner, ' Come with him.'
If, Reader, I possessed a longer space
For writing it, I yet would sing in part
Of the sweet draught that ne'er would satiate me :
But inasmuch as full are all the leaves
Made ready for this second canticle,
The curb of art no farther lets me go.
From the most holy water I returned
Regenerate, in the manner of new trees
That are renewed with a new foliage,
Pure and disposed to mount unto the stars.
xxxiu. 103-145
THE ROSE OF THE BLESSED.
(To face Chap. A'.)
CHAPTER X.
THE PARADISE.
La forma general di Paradise.
The general form of Paradise.
Par. xxxi. 52.
"T)ARADISE consists, as we have seen, of Nine Heavens,
JL each a revolving hollow sphere enclosing and en-
closed, and of the uncontained Empyrean which contains
them all.
As star differeth from star in glory, so Saint from Saint.
Whereof Dante has constructed a marvellous parable : — for
in each successive Heaven, as he ascends, Blessed Souls
manifest themselves visibly and audibly as denizens, while
yet each in very truth has his immoveable eternal seat in
the ineffable Rose of the Empyrean. And so the lower
or higher place of manifestation serves for a token whereby
human sense may apprehend the lower or higher degree
of that vision of God which constitutes beatitude. When
therefore Saints are spoken of as dwelling in any Heaven
below the highest, the statement must be understood not of
real but of apparent or representative abode. In all, how-
ever, beatitude is perfect according to the capacity of each ;
for entire conformity with the Divine Will produces entire
satisfaction in the appointments of that Will, and in the
exact order resulting throughout the Universe from exact
2O2 The condition of the Blessed.
justice in the apportionment of rewards. As Bellarmine
illustrates this subject — if a father clothe all his children in
cloth of gold, the measure fits the growth of each, yet all
are alike complete in covering and adornment.
In their apparent Star-abodes the Saints show themselves
swathed in cocoons of light, flashing brighter with each
accidental increase of joy or charity ; in their real Rose-
seats they are seen without this raiment.
Their gaze is ceaselessly fixed on the Beatific Vision, and
their motion rapid in proportion to the vividness wherewith
they apprehend that Vision. Their knowledge is unerring,
because they behold mirrored in God all things meet foi
them to know ; their speech is the flawless reflection of
that unerring knowledge.
In Hell, as we have seen, the utmost possible perversion
of the Understanding by the Bestialism or spiritual Folly
of Unbelief and Misbelief occupies the exceptional transi'
tional Circle between four upper and three lower Circles of
less and of more perverted Will ; the frailty of Incontinence
being above, the depravity of Malice below. In Heaven
a somewhat similar arrangement may perhaps be traced.
The utmost possible sanctification of the Understanding by
the spiritual gifts of the Wisdom and Knowledge growing
out of Faith and Orthodoxy, occupies the Heaven of the
Sun, apparently exceptional and transitional between three
lower and four upper Heavens of less and of more sanctified
Will; the imperfection of Earthliness being below, as far
as Earth's shadow extends to the celestial spheres; the
perfection of Heavenliness above, in light unshadowed.
We will now consider the special characteristics of each
Planet and its denizens.
Heaven I. II. III. IV. V. VI. 203
The First Heaven, revolved by the Angels as the lowest
of the Nine Orders, is that of the waxing and waning Moon,
and therefore of Wills imperfect through Instability. Here
dwell Nuns whose vows failed of entire fulfilment j inas-
much as, removed by violence from the cloister, and bearing
thereto a changeless persevering love, they yet braved not
all evils to return thither so soon as freed from bodily
constraint.
The Second Heaven, revolved by the Archangels, is that
of Mercury, ' more veiled from the solar rays than is any
other star ' : * the abode of Wills imperfect through that
Love of Fame which half puts out within the soul the rays
of the Love of God even as they dart upward. Here are
men of activity and eloquence, who used their powers for
good, but not without regard to the praise of their fellow-
creatures.
The Third Heaven, revolved by the Principalities, is that
of Venus, now before and now behind the Sun, and the last
to which Earth's shadow reaches; indwelt by Wills im-
perfect through excess of mere human love.
The Fourth and middle Planetary Heaven, revolved by
the Powers, is that of the Sun, the chief material light, and
the dwelling of the great spiritual and intellectual lights,
the holy and eminent Doctors in Divinity and Philosophy.
The Fifth Heaven, revolved by the Virtues, is that of
blood-red Mars, the abode of Martyrs, Confessors, and
Warriors on behalf of the Faith.
The Sixth Heaven, revolved by the Dominations, is that
of Jupiter brilliantly white, inhabited by Rulers eminent for
Justice.
1 Convito ii. 14.
204 'Heaven VII. VIII. IX.— The Empyrean.
The Seventh and last Planetary Heaven, revolved by the
Thrones, is the cold orbit of Saturn, fit dwelling of those
Monks and Hermits who, refined by severest abstinence,
rose to that heavenly Contemplation whereto this star was
believed to influence men.
The Eighth or Starry Heaven, revolved by the Cherubim,
is that of the Fixed Stars, including of course the constella-
tions of the Zodiac. Hither descends the Triumph of
Christ, here linger the Apostles with the Saints of the Old
and of the New Testament.
The Ninth or Starless Crystalline Heaven is the Primum
Mobile, revolved by the Seraphim ; here it is that the Nine
Orders of the Celestial Hierarchy circle in fiery rings around
the Light Which no man can approach unto, manifested as
an Atomic Point.
No more of Time, no more of Space : left behind in the
Crystalline Primum Mobile, they have no place in the Still
Fire-Heaven, the Empyrean, Essential Light, Essential
Love, possessing all things, and in very contentment motion-
less. But the Elect have place there, yea have no place
save only there ; Time and Space may furnish a parable of
their condition, Time and Space can construct no home for
their abode. Their home is the mystical White Rose into
which they are composed around the Lake of Divine Light
whose circumference would outgird the Sun, and which
constitutes the central Yellow of this Flower ineffable.
Petals upon petals, petals upon petals, petals upon petals ;
the narrowest circuit encompasses the Sun-outmeasuring
Lake, what should suffice to fill the widest? And what
should be hidden, what withheld from the enthroned Souls
that form those petals, seeing that they gaze into the Very
The White Rose of the Blessed. 205
Light, and that the multitude of the Heavenly Host as bees
deposit amid their recesses the Peace and Glow brought
down from the Bosom of God? All eyes and all love are
here set one way, even towards God Triune.
The order of the Rose includes both a horizontal and a
vertical division. The horizontal division takes place at
mid-height, all the Blessed thence downwards having died
in infancy, all thence upwards at years of discretion.
Among the infants no less than among the adults there are
varying degrees of glory, corresponding to the varying
degrees of grace wherewith Dante — arguing from the dif-
ference made before birth between Jacob and Esau —
believes them to have been endowed. The vertical division
takes place at two opposite points of the circumference,
the left half of the thrones being filled by those who
looked forward to Christ Coming, the right half as yet
only partially occupied by those who looked backward to
Christ Come. On the one side the dividing line consists
of a chain of holy women, five of those designated by
name being ancestresses of our Blessed Lord : at the top
of course S. Mary, under her Eve, then Rachel, beside
whom, as we learned at the beginning of the poem, is seated
Beatrice ; then Sarah, Rebekah, Judith, Ruth ; the rest are
unnamed. On the other side, opposite S. Mary, S. John
the Baptist forms the head of the second dividing line,
which consists of holy Mandriarchs ; S. Francis, S. Bene-
dict, S. Augustine being alone named. To the right of the
Blessed Virgin sit S. Peter first, next S. John the Evangelist ;
to her left first Adam, next Moses. To the left of S.
John the Baptist, opposite S. Peter, is S. Anne, Mother
of the Blessed Virgin ; to his right, opposite Adam, S
p
206 The Alpha and Omega.
Lucia, Virgin and Martyr, and the type of Illuminating
Grace.
Above and beyond this there is and can be nought save
the Alpha and Omega, the First Beginning and the Last
End: the Ever-Blessed Trinity in Unity, Whereinto is
taken for evermore the Glorified Humanity of God In-
carnate.
CHAPTER XL
DANTE'S PILGRIMAGE THROUGH PARADISE.
Presso di lei e nel mondo felice.
Close at her side and in the Happy World.
Par. xxv. 139.
/T~"VHE means by which Dante was lifted from the Ter-
JL restrial Paradise into the wholly unearthly Fire of
the last Elemental Sphere, and thence through each suc-
cessive Heaven (except one) even into the Empyrean, was
a fixed gaze into the eyes of Beatrice ; and the increase of
bliss in each ascent was typified by the increase in the
beauty of her smile. For inasmuch as Beatrice is the figure
of Divine Science, ' in her face appear things that tell of the
pleasures of Paradise; and . . . the place wherein this appears
. . is in her eyes and her smile. And here it should be
known that the eyes of Wisdom are the two demonstrations,
by which is seen the truth most certainly ; and her smile is
her persuasions, in which is shown forth the interior light of
Wisdom under some veil : and in these two things is felt
that highest pleasure of beatitude, which is the greatest
good in Paradise.' 1
The Sun, which rises on the world through divers pas-
1 Convitoiii. 15.
208 The upper region of the Fire- Sphere.
sages, was now in the most favourable of all, that is, the
equinoctial :
Almost that passage had made morning there
And evening here, and there was wholly white
That hemisphere, and black the other part.
When Beatrice towards the left-hand side
I saw turned round, and gazing at the sun j
Never did eagle fasten so upon it !
And even as a second ray is wont
To issue from the first and reascend,
Like to a pilgrim who would fain return,
Thus of her action, through the eyes infused
In my imagination, mine I made,
And sunward fixed mine eyes beyond our wont.
There much is lawful which is here unlawful
Unto our powers, by virtue of the place
Made for the human species as its own.1
Not long I bore it, nor so little while
But I beheld it sparkle round about
Like iron that comes molten from the fire ;
And suddenly it seemed that day to day
Was added, as if He Who has the power
Had with another sun the heaven adorned.
Par. I. 43-63.
In that instant Dante had been drawn up from the
Terrestrial Paradise into the upper region of the Elemental
Fire, where the music of the Spheres soon burst upon his
ear.
With eyes upon the everlasting wheels
Stood Beatrice all intent, and I, on her
Fixing my vision from above removed,
1 The Garden of Eden.
The music of the Spheres. 209
Such at her aspect inwardly became
As Glaucus, tasting of the herb that made him 1
Peer of the other gods beneath the sea.
To represent transhumanize in words
Impossible were ; the example, then, suffice
Him for whom Grace the experience reserves.
If I was merely what of me Thou newly
Createdst, Love Who governest the Heaven,
Thou knowest, Who didst lift me with Thy light !
When now the wheel, which Thou dost make eternal 2
Desiring Thee, made me attentive to it
By harmony Thou dost modulate and measure,2
Then seemed to me so much of Heaven enkindled
By the sun's flame, that neither rain nor river
E'er made a lake so widely spread abroad.
The newness of the sound* and the great light
Kindled in me a longing for their cause,
Never before with such acuteness felt ;
Whence she, who saw me as I saw myself,
To quiet in me my perturbed mind,
Opened her mouth, ere I did mine to ask,
And she began . ' Thou makest thyself so dull
With false imagining, that thou seest not
What thou wouldst see if thou hadst shaken it off.
Thou art not upon earth, as thou believest ;
But lightning, fleeing its appropriate site,
1 Glaucus was a fisherman, who seeing some fish caught by him
revive on touching the salt-meadow-grass growing on the shore, ate of
the same herb and so became a sea-god.
a * According to Plato the Heavens ever move seeking the Soul of
the World, and desirous to find it ; that Soul is God.' (Fraticelli in
loc.) The sense of these lines is : When now the heavenly revolution,
which Thou, O Love, dost render perpetual through the desire Thou
infusest for Thyself, attracted my attention by its harmony — i.e. the
music of the Spheres.
2 1 o Man, like Fire, tends upward.
Ne'er ran as thou, who thitherward returnest.'
If of my former doubt I was divested
By these brief little words more smiled than spoken,
I in a new one was the more ensnared ;
And said : ' Already did I rest content
From great amazement ; but am now amazed
In what way I transcend these bodies light.'
Whereupon she, after a pitying sigh,
Her eyes directed tow'rds me with that look
A mother casts on a delirious child ;
And she began : ' All things whate'er they be
Have order among themselves, and this is form,
That makes the universe resemble God.
The Providence that regulates all this
Makes with Its light the Heaven for ever quiet,
Wherein that turns which has the greatest haste.
And thither now, as to a site decreed,
Bears us away the virtue of that cord
Which aims its arrows at a joyous mark.
True is it, that as oftentimes the form
Accords not with the intention of the art,
Because in answering is matter deaf,
So likewise from this course doth deviate
Sometimes the creature, who the power possesses,
Though thus impelled, to swerve some other way,
(In the same wise as one may see the fire
Fall from a cloud,) if the first impetus
Earthward is wrested by some false delight.
Thou shouldst not wonder more, if well I judge,
At thine ascent, than at a rivulet
From some high mount descending to the lowland.
Marvel it would be in thee, if deprived
Of hindrance, thou wert seated down below,
The Moon. 2 1 1
As if on earth the living fire were quiet.'
Thereat she heavenward turned again her face.
I. 64-105, 121-142.
For the Elemental Fire is no abode of glorified Spirits ;
and therefore
The con-created and perpetual thirst
For the realm deiform did bear us on,
As swift almost as ye the Heavens behold.
Upward gazed Beatrice, and I at her ;
And in such space perchance as strikes a bolt
And flies, and from the notch unlocks itself,
Arrived I saw me where a wondrous thing
Drew to itself my sight ; and therefore she
From whom no care of mine could be concealed,
Towards me turning, blithe as beautiful,
Said unto me : ' Fix gratefully thy mind
On God, Who unto the first star l has brought us.'
It seemed to me a cloud encompassed us,
Luminous, dense, consolidate and bright
As adamant on which the sun is striking.
Into itself did the eternal pearl 2
Receive us, even as water doth receive
A ray of light, remaining still unbroken.
3 If I was body, (and we here conceive not
How one dimension tolerates another,
Which needs must be if body enter body,)
More the desire should be enkindled in us
That Essence to behold, Wherein is seen8
l> a The Moon.
3 If I was in the body (a thing wholly incomprehensible to us on
earth, inasmuch as we cannot conceive of one physical dimension en-
during the insertion of another and yet remaining unchanged, which
needs must have been if my body had entered within the Moon's body),
2 1 2 The Blessed in the Moon.
How God and our own nature were united.
There will be seen what we receive by faith,
Not demonstrated, but self-evident
In guise of the first truth that man believes.
I made reply : ' Madonna, as devoutly
As most I can do I give thanks to Him
Who has removed me from the mortal world.'
II. 19-48.
Dante then inquired respecting the Moon's spots, and
was answered that they are the diverse effect of the Divine
virtue infused through the Angelic Movers of the First
Heaven. He was about to confess himself convinced of
the erroneous nature of his previous theories on this sub-
ject-
But there appeared a vision, which withdrew me
So close to it, in order to be seen,
That my confession I remembered not.
Such as through polished and transparent glass,
Or waters crystalline and undisturbed,
But not so deep as that their bed be lost,
Come back again the outlines of our faces
So feeble, that a pearl on forehead white
Comes not less speedily unto our eyes ;
Such saw I many faces prompt to speak,
So that I ran in error opposite
To that which kindled love 'twixt man and fountain l
As soon as I became aware of them,
Esteeming them as mirrored semblances,
To see of whom they were, mine eyes I turned,
then so great and blessed a marvel as a human bodily presence in
Heaven ought the more to enkindle in us the desire to behold that
Essence of our Incarnate Lord, Wherein, etc.
1 Narcissus took a reflected for a real face, Dante took real faces for
reflected.
Piccarda de Donati. 2 1 3
And nothing saw, and once more turned them forward
Direct into the light of my sweet Guide,
Who smiling kindled in her holy eyes.
* Marvel thou not,' she said to me, ' because
I smile at this thy puerile conceit,
Since on the truth it trusts not yet its foot,
But turns thce, as 'tis wont, on emptiness.
True substances are these which thou beholdest,
Here relegate for breaking of some vow.
Therefore speak with them, listen and believe ;
For the True Light, which giveth peace to them,
Permits them not to turn from It their feet.'
And I unto the Shade that seemed most wishful
To speak directed me, and I began,
As one whom too great eagerness bewilders :
' O well-created Spirit, who in the rays
Of life eternal dost the sweetness taste
Which being untasted ne'er is comprehended,
Grateful 'twill be to me, if thou content me
Both with thy name and with your destiny.'
Whereat she promptly and with laughing eyes :
' Our charity doth never shut the doors
Against a just desire, except as One *•
Who wills that all her court be like herself.
I was a virgin sister in the world ;
And if thy mind doth contemplate me well,
The being more fair will not conceal me from thee,
But thou shalt recognise I am Piccarda,
Who, stationed here among these other blessed,
Myself am blessed in the slowest sphere.'
ill. 7-51-
Piccarda was the sister of Dante's wife Gemma de'
1 The Blessed Virgin.
214 Each content with his place in Heaven.
Donati, and of that Forese, whom in Purgatory we saw
expiating the sin of Gluttony.1 She continued :
' All our affections, that alone inflamed
Are in the pleasure of the Holy Ghost,
Rejoice at being of His order formed ; *
And this allotment, which appears so low,
Therefore is given us, because our vows
Have been neglected and in some part void.*
Whence I to her : * In your miraculous aspects
There shines I know not what of the divine,
Which doth transform you from our first conceptions.
Therefore .1 was not swift in my remembrance ;
But what thou tellest me now aids me so,
That the refiguring is easier to me.
But tell me, ye who in this place are happy,
Are you desirous of a higher place,
To see more or to make yourselves more friends ? ' 8
First with those other Shades she smiled a little ;
Thereafter answered me so full of gladness,
She seemed to burn in the first fire of love :
' Brother, our will is quieted by virtue
Of charity, that makes us wish alone
For what we have, nor gives us thirst for more.
If to be more exalted we aspired,
Discordant would our aspirations be
Unto the will of Him Who here secludes us ;
Which thou shalt see finds no place in these circles,
If being in charity is needful here,
And if thou lookest well into its nature ;
Nay, 'tis essential to this blest existence
To keep itself within the Will Divine,
1 See page 173. 2 Professed nuns of His order.
• More the friends of God.
Piccardas history. 2 1 5
Whereby our very wishes are made one ;
So that, as we are station above station
Throughout this realm, to all the realm 'tis pleasing,
As to the King, who makes His Will our will.
And His Will is our peace ; this is the sea
To which is moving onward whatsoever
It doth create, and all that nature makes.'
Then it was clear to me how everywhere
In Heaven is Paradise, although the grace
Of good supreme there rain not in one measure.
But as it comes to pass, if one food sates,
And for another still remains the longing,
We ask for this, and that decline with thanks,
E'en thus did I, with gesture and with word,
To learn from her what was the web wherein
She did not ply the shuttle to the end.
' A perfect life and merit high in-heaven
A lady l o'er us,' said she, ' by whose rule
Down in your world they vest and veil themselves,
That until death they may both watch and sleep
Beside that Spouse Who every vow accepts
Which charity conformeth to His pleasure.
To follow her, in girlhood from the world
I fled, and in her habit shut myself,
And pledged me to the pathway of her sect.
Then men accustomed unto evil more
Than unto good, from the sweet cloister tore me ;
God knows what afterward my life became.'
in. 52-108.
Her brother Corso had forced Piccarda away from her
cloister, and married her to Rosselin della Tosa ; she sur-
vived the marriage only a few months. She went on :
1 S. Clara, foundress of the Poor Clares.
2 1 6 The Empress Constance.
' This other Splendour, which to thee reveals
Itself on my right side, and is enkindled
With all the illumination of our sphere,
What of myself I say applies to her ;
A nun was she, and likewise from her head
Was ta'en the shadow of the sacred wimple.
But when she too was to the world returned
Against her wishes and against good usage,
Of the heart's veil she never was divested.
Of great Costanza this is the effulgence,
Who from the second wind of Suabia
Brought forth the third and latest puissance.'
in. 109-120.
Constance was the daughter of Roger i., King of Naples
and Sicily, who was succeeded immediately by his son
William the Bad, next by his grandson William the Good.
This last reigned but a very short time ; and as his early
childless death was foreseen, Constance, his aunt and sole
heiress, was taken, say various ancient but not uncontra-
dicted historians,1 from her convent at Palermo, and com-
pelled to marry Henry vi., son of the Emperor Frederick
Barbarossa of Suabia, and father by her of Frederick n., in
his turn father of the Manfred who in Purgatory styled
himself Constance's grandson.2
Thus unto me she spake and then began
* Ave Maria ' singing, and in singing
Vanished, as through deep water something heavy.
My sight, that followed her as long a time
As it was possible, when it had lost her
Turned round unto the mark of more desire,
And wholly unto Beatrice reverted ;
1 Fraticelli in loc. a See page 128.
The true abode of the Blessed. 2 1 7
But she such lightnings flashed into mine eyes,
That at the first my sight endured it not ;
And this in questioning more backward made me.
ill. 121-130.
Dante had two questions to ask : the one, suggested by
what he had seen, was concerning the abode of the Blessed ;
appearances seeming to justify Plato's hypothesis of the
return of disembodied souls to the stars. Beatrice, discern-
ing in his mind this unexpressed doubt, thus solved it :
' He of the Seraphim most absorbed in God,
Moses, and Samuel, and whichever John
Thou mayst select, I say, and even Mary,
Have not in any other Heaven their seats,
Than have those Spirits that just appeared to thee,
Nor of existence more or fewer years ;
But all make beautiful the primal circle,
And have sweet life in different degrees,
By feeling more or less the eternal Breath.
They showed themselves here, not because allotted
This sphere has been to them, but to give sign
Of the celestial which is least exalted.
To speak thus is adapted to your mind,
Since only through the sense it apprehendeth
What then it worthy makes of intellect.
On this account the Scripture condescends
Unto your faculties, and feet and hands
To God attributes, and means something else ;
And Holy Church under an aspect human
Gabriel and Michael represents to you,
And him who made Tobias whole again.'
IV. 28-48.
Dante's second question, suggested by what he had heard,
was — how violence suffered at the hands of another can
2 1 8 Wherein Violence consists.
lessen the merit of one whose good-will endures unchanged.
Beatrice replied by explaining the distinction between
absolute and relative will :
1 ' That as unjust our justice should appear
In eyes of mortals, is an argument
Of faith, and not of sin heretical.1
But still, that your perception may be able
To thoroughly penetrate this verity,
As thou desirest, I will satisfy thee.
2 If it be violence when he who suffers
Co-operates not with him who uses force,
These Souls were not on that account excused ;
For will is never quenched unless it will,
But operates as nature doth in fire,
If violence a thousand times distort it.
Hence, if it yieldeth more or less, it seconds
The force ; 2 and these have done so, having power
Of turning back unto the holy place.
If their will had been perfect, like to that
Which Lawrence fast upon his gridiron held,
And Mutius made severe to his own hand,
It would have urged them back along the road
Whence they were dragged as soon as they were free ;
But such a solid will is all too rare.
1 That heavenly Justice should appear unjust in the eyes of mortals
is a reason why they should exercise faith, not why they should fall
into heresy.
8 If that only be properly called an act of violence in which he who
is forced co-operates not in the least degree with him who forces, these
Souls cannot be excused as having suffered violence. For Will never
can be quenched except by its own consent ; even as fire, after endur-
ing a thousand attempts to make it burn downward, invariably burns
upward the moment it is left to itself. If then, bodily force ceasing,
the Will still yields more or less, it do«s co-operate with that force ;
and these, etc.
Of Will absolute and relative. 219
And by these words, if thou hast gathered them
As thou shouldst do, the argument is refuted
That would have still annoyed thee many times.
But now another passage runs across
Before thine eyes, and such that by thyself
Thou couldst not thread it ere thou wouldst be weary.
I have for certain put into thy mind
That Soul beatified could never lie,
For it is ever near the primal Truth,
And then thou from Piccarda might'st have heard
Costanza kept affection for the veil,
So that she seemeth here to contradict me.
Many times, brother, has it come to pass,
That, to escape from peril, with reluctance
That has been done it was not right to do,
E'en as Alcmaeon (who, being by his father
Thereto entreated, his own mother slew)
Not to lose pity pitiless became.1
At this point I desire thee to remember
That force with will commingles, and they cause
That the offences cannot be excused.
Will absolute consenteth not to evil ;
But in so far consenteth as it fears,
If it refrain, to fall into more harm.
Hence when Piccarda uses this expression,
She meaneth the will absolute, and I
The other, so that both of us speak truth.'
Such was the flowing of the holy river
That issued from the fount whence springs all truth ;
This put to rest my wishes one and all
' O love of the first Lover, O divine,'
Said I forthwith, * whose speech inundates me
1 'Not to lose/aafj/' is the sense ; but then the play onpieta —piety
and pity, would be lost. See also Note I, p. 150.
220 Of Truth and Doubt. — Of Free Will.
And warms me so, it more and more revives me,
My own affection is not so profound
As to suffice in rendering grace for grace ;
Let Him, who sees and can, thereto respond.
1 Well I perceive that never sated is
Our intellect unless the Truth illume it,
Beyond which nothing true expands itself.
It rests therein, as wild beast in his lair,
When it attains It ; and it can attain It ;
If not, then each desire would frustrate be.
Therefore springs up, in fashion of a shoot,
Doubt at the foot of truth ; and this is nature,
Which to the top from height to height impels us.1
This doth invite me, this assurance give me
With reverence, Lady, to inquire of you
Another truth, which is obscure to me.
I wish to know if man can satisfy you
For broken vows with other good deeds, so
That in your balance they will not be light.'
iv. 67-138.
The answer was :
* The greatest gift that in His largess God
Creating made, and unto His own goodness
Nearest conformed, and that which He doth prize
Most highly, is the freedom of the will,
Wherewith the creatures of intelligence
1 Well do I see that our intellect can never be fully satisfied, except
it be irradiated by that Truth which Itself so includes all truth that
aught outside It is not truth, but falsehood. In the aforesaid Truth
our intellect rests as a wild beast in his lair, so soon as it has attained
thereto ; and thereto it is able to attain, else would its every desire be
frustrate. Therefore at the foot of every ascertained truth there ever
springs a shoot of doubt concerning some further truth ; such is man's
nature, impelling him from peak to peak even to the summit.
Concerning Vows. 221
Both all and only were and are endowed.1
Now wilt thou see, if thence thou reasonest,
The high worth of a vow, if it be made
So that when thou consentest God consents ; 2
For, closing between God and man the compact,
A sacrifice is of this treasure made,
Such as I say, and made by its own act
What can be rendered then as compensation ?
Think'st thou to make good use of what thou'st offered,
With gains ill gotten thou wouldst do good deed.'
V. 19-33-
Nevertheless, the essence of a vow being the binding of
the will rather than the particular point wherein it is bound,
Holy Church has a dispensing power to which recourse may
lawfully be had on just occasion : —
' But let none shift the burden on his shoulder
At his arbitrament, without the turning
Both of the white and of the yellow key;
And every permutation deem as foolish,
If in the substitute the thing relinquished,
As the four is in six, be not contained.
Therefore whatever thing has so great weight
In value that it drags down every balance,
Cannot be satisfied with other spending.' 3
v. 55-63.
But from all this it obviously follows that vows must not be
lightly made.
And then Beatrice with her neophyte passed into Mercury,
1 All rational creatures, and none but rational creatures, are endowed
with free will.
2 So that it be made according to the known Will of God.
8 Cannot be made up for by any other offering.
Q
222 The Blessed in Mercury. — Justinian
where shine the Spirits of men eloquent and active in good,
but not free from the love of fame. Here Dante con-
versed at great length with the Emperor Justinian, who
traced out the progress and achievements of the Roman
Eagle from the days of ^Eneas to those of Augustus, and
added :
' But what the standard that has made me speak
Achieved before, and after should achieve
Throughout the mortal realm that lies beneath it,
Becometh in appearance mean and dim,
If in the hand of the third Caesar seen
With ejfe unclouded and affection pure,
Because the living Justice that inspires me
Granted it, in the hand of him I speak of,
The glory of doing vengeance for its wrath.
Now here attend to what I answer thee ;
Later it ran with Titus to do vengeance
Upon the vengeance of the ancient sin.'
VI. 82-93.
' The vengeance of the ancient sin ' is the Death of our
Blessed Lord as the atoning Victim for the entire race of
man. That in any view of this most awful subject the
human instrumentality whereby that precious Death was
effected should be regarded otherwise than as the uttermost
stretch of wickedness, seems to us no less blasphemous than
inconceivable ; yet it is the loving and reverent Dante who
writes of such instrumentality as ' the glory ' of ' the Third
Caesar ' Tiberius. The whole passage is incomprehensible
till read in the light of the elaborate argument whereby, in
the treatise De Monarchta, Rome is professedly demonstrated
to be by Divine right the centre of empire over the whole
treats of various matters. 223
terrestrial globe. The crowning proofs adduced are two.
First, our Saviour's having implicitly approved Augustus'
claim of world-wide sovereignty, by willing to be so born as
to be registered his subject. Secondly, the Divine accept-
ance of the Crucifixion as a punishment making satisfaction
for the sins of all mankind ; which it could not have been
if inflicted by any one save the ordinary judge, or by any
ordinary judge not having jurisdiction over all mankind.1
By us, of course, the conclusion is only less inadmissible
than the argument. But we probably have here the key to
a perplexing problem — why Pontius Pilate is nowhere met
with in Hell.
After glancing at Charlemagne, Justinian went on severely
to reprehend the ill-doing both of Guelphs and Ghibellines,
and then set forth the condition of himself and his com-
panions :
' This little planet doth adorn itself
With the good Spirits that have active been,
That fame and honour might come after them ;
And whensoever the desires mount thither,
Thus deviating, must perforce the rays
Of the true love less vividly mount upward.
But in commensuration of our wages
With our desert is portion of our joy,
Because we see them neither less nor greater.
Herein doth living Justice sweeten so
Affection in us, that for evermore
It cannot warp to any iniquity.
Voices diverse make up sweet melodies ;
So in this life of ours the seats diverse
Render sweet harmony among these spheres ;
1 De Monarchic, ii. 10, II.
224 Romeo.
And in the compass of this present pearl
Shineth the sheen of Romeo, of whom
The grand and beauteous work was ill rewarded.
But the Provencals who against him wrought,
They have not laughed, and therefore ill goes he
Who makes his hurt of the good deeds of others.
Four daughters, and each one of them a queen,
Had Raymond Berenger, and this for him
Did Romeo, a poor man and a pilgrim ;
And then malicious words incited him
To summon to a reckoning this just man,
Who rendered to him seven and five for ten.
Then he departed poor and stricken in years,
And if the world could know the heart he had,
In begging bit by bit his livelihood,
Though much it laud him, it would laud him more.'
vi. 112-142.
He who is here called Romeo (probably not a proper
name, but a term equivalent to * pilgrim to Rome ' *), arriv-
ing a stranger at the court of Raymond Berenger Count ot
Provence, became his trusted seneschal, tripled his income
while maintaining his grandeur, and contrived the brilliant
marriages of his four daughters — Margaret to S. Louis of
France, Eleanor to Henry in. of England, Sanctia to Richard
Earl of Cornwall elected King of the Romans, Beatrice to
Charles Count of Anjou, afterwards by Papal investiture
King of Naples. The sequel is but too clear.
The Saints vanished with singing ; and Beatrice discern-
ing in Dante's mind a perplexity arising from Justinian's
words respecting that vengeance on Jerusalem whereof
Titus was the minister, proceeded thus to instruct him :
1 Vita Ntiova xli.
Of the Incarnation and the Cross. 225
'According to infallible advisement,
After what manner a just vengeance justly
Could be avenged has put thee upon thinking,
But I will speedily thy mind unloose ;
And do thou listen, for these words of mine
Of a great doctrine will a present make thee.
By not enduring on the power that wills
Curb for his good, that man who ne'er was born,
Damning himself damned all his progeny ;
Whereby the human species down below
Lay sick for many centuries in great error,
Till to descend it pleased the Word of God
To where the nature, which from its own Maker
Estranged itself, He joined to Him in person,
By the sole act of His eternal love.
Now unto what is said direct thy sight ;
This nature when united to its Maker,
Such as created, was sincere and good ;
But by itself alone was banished forth
From Paradise, because it turned aside
Out of the way of truth and of its life.
Therefore the penalty the cross held out,
If measured by the nature thus assumed,
None ever yet with so great justice stung,
And none was ever of so great injustice,
Considering Who the Person was that suffered,
Within Whom such a nature was contracted.
From one act therefore issued things diverse ;
To God and to the Jews one Death was pleasing ;
Earth trembled at it and the Heaven was opened.
It should no longer now seem difficult
To thee, when it is said that a just vengeance
By a just court was afterward avenged.
But now do I behold thy mind entangled
226 Of Man before and after the Fall.
From thought to thought within a knot, from which
With great desire it waits to free itself.
Thou sayest, " Well discern I what I hear ;
But it is hidden from me why God willed
For our redemption only this one mode."
Buried remaineth, brother, this decree
Unto the eyes of every one whose nature
Is in the flame of love not yet adult.
Verily, inasmuch as at this mark
One gazes long and little is discerned,
Wherefore this mode was worthiest will I say.
i Goodness Divine, which from Itself doth spurn
All envy, burning in Itself so sparkles
That the eternal beauties It unfolds.1
'* Whate'er from This immediately distils
Has afterwards no end, for ne'er removed
Is Its impression when It sets Its seal.
Whate'er from This immediately rains down
Is wholly free, because it is not subject
Unto the influences of novel things.
The more conformed thereto, the more it pleases ;
For the blest Ardour that irradiates all things
In that most like Itself is most vivacious.
With all of these things has advantaged been
The human creature ; and if one be wanting,
From his nobility he needs must fall
'Tis sin alone which doth disfranchise him,
And render him unlike the Good Supreme,2
So that he little with Its light is blanched,3
i The Divine Goodness, wholly free from aught that is contrary to
charity, in the ardour of Its own Love so sparkles as to take pleasure in
manifesting and communicating Its Eternal Beauty.
« See pp. 13, 14. * A11 creatures,' etc.
1 Irradiated.
Of God's two ways in Redemption. 227
And to his dignity no more returns,
Unless he fill up where transgression empties
With righteous pains for criminal delights.
Your nature when it sinned so utterly
In its own seed, out of these dignities
Even as out of Paradise was driven,
Nor could itself recover, if thou notest
With nicest subtilty, by any way,
Except by passing one of these two fords :
Either that God through clemency alone
Had pardon granted, or that man himself
Had satisfaction for his folly made.
Fix now thine eye deep into the abyss
Of the eternal counsel, to my speech
As far as may be fastened steadfastly !
Man in his limitations had not power
To satisfy, not having power to sink
In his humility obeying then,
Far as he disobeying thought to rise ;
And for this reason man has been from power
Of satisfying by himself excluded.
Therefore it God behoved in His own ways *
Man to restore unto his perfect life,
I say in one, or else in both of them.
But since the action of the doer is
So much more grateful, as it more presents
The goodness of the heart from which it issues,
Goodness Divine, that doth imprint the world,
Has been contented to proceed by each
And all Its ways to lift you up again ;
Nor 'twixt the first day and the final night
Such high and such magnificent proceeding
1 Mercy and Justice.
228 The Blessed in Vemt,s. • — Charles Mart el
By one or by the other was or shall be ;
For God more bounteous was Himself to give
To make man able to uplift himself,
Than if He only of Himself had pardoned ;
And all the other modes were insufficient
For justice, were it not the Son of God
Himself had humbled to become incarnate.'
vn. 19-120.
The ascent to Venus, insensible at the moment, was after
taking place revealed by the increased beauty of Beatrice.
Here within the star's light were seen circling other lights,
their charity such that albeit they revolved with the Heavenly
Principalities, yet, as one testified, Dante's desire to con-
verse with them would render a pause no less blissful than
unbroken revolution.
After these eyes of mine themselves had offered
Unto my Lady reverently, and she
Content and certain of herself had made them,
Back to the light they turned, which so great promise
Made of itself, and, ' Say, who art thou ? ' was
My voice, imprinted with a great affection.
O how and how much I beheld it grow
With the new joy that superadded was
Unto its joys, as soon as I had spoken !
Thus changed, it said to me : ' The world possessed me
Short time below : and, if it had been more,
Much evil will be which would not have been.
My gladness keepeth me concealed from thee,
Which rayeth round about me, and doth hide me
Like as a creature swathed in its own silk.
Much didst thou love me, and thou hadst good reason ;
For had I been below, I should have shown thee
Somewhat beyond the foliage of my love.'
VIII. 40-57 .
treats of Nativity and Degeneracy. 229
This Saint was Charles Martel, the eldest son of Charles
n. of Naples by his wife Mary of Hungary, and thus
doubly born a King, though the paternal crown he did
not live to inherit, dying at the age of twenty-three. This
virtuous prince and early friend of Dante now bitterly
lamented the fate of Naples under his money-loving brother
Robert i., degenerate from their large-natured father. — Yet
when a son is not the speaker, Charles n. himself is
throughout the poem unfavourably mentioned. In another
passage of the Paradiso l largeness of nature is indeed
probably alluded to as his one virtue ; but in the Purga-
torio he is actually included in Hugh Capet's denunciation
of the avarice of his house,2 and is spoken of by Sordello
as degenerate from his own father Charles I.8 Such de-
generacy, of which various instances were then under con-
templation, was, as we saw, attributed by the speaker to
its primary cause, the Will of Almighty God * that all the
glory of human virtue should be ascribed to Himself.
Dante now, desiring farther light on the subject, asked of
Charles Martel how of sweet seed can come bitter, and
heard the astrological doctrine of the secondary cause and
its practical result : — that the star under which nativity
takes place counteracts and modifies by its influence the
otherwise unvarying rule of the resemblance of child to
parent ; and that in all glaring instances of contrast be-
tween a man's self and his state of life, the blame should
fall, not on Nature for not adapting him to his state,
but on himself and his advisers for not adapting his state
to him.
lPar. xix. 127-129. 8 Pur. xx. 79-81.
*Pur. vii. 124. * See pp. 136, 137.
2 3O The Blessed in the Sim.
Other Spirits of this Third Heaven then conversed with
their guest ; and Rahab was pointed out to him as its most
exalted inhabitant.
But behold him now free of the region of imperfect
Wills ; the transitional Heaven of the Sun lies before him,
the peculiar kingdom of Wisdom and Knowledge. — The
Sun was in Aries,
And I was with him ; but of the ascending
I was not conscious, saving as a man
Of a first thought is conscious ere it come ;
And Beatrice, she who is seen to pass
From good to better, and so suddenly
That not by time her action is expressed,
How lucent in herself must she have been !
And what was in the sun, wherein I entered,
Apparent not by colour but by light,
I, though I call on genius, art, and practice,
Cannot so tell that it could be imagined ;
Believe one can, and let him long to see it.
And if our fantasies too lowly are
For altitude so great, it is no marvel,
Since o'er the sun was never eye could go.
Such in this place was the fourth family
Of the high Father, Who for ever sates it,
Showing how He breathes forth and how begets.
And Beatrice began : ' Give thanks, give thanks
Unto the Sun of Angels, Who to this
Sensible one has raised thee by His grace ! '
Never was heart of mortal so disposed
To worship, nor to give itself to God
With all its gratitude was it so ready,
As at those words did I myself become ;
And all my love was so absorbed in Him,
First Gar land: S. Thomas Aquinas, Boethius. 231
That in oblivion Beatrice was eclipsed.
Nor this displeased her ; but she smiled at it
So that the splendour of her laughing eyes
My single mind on many things divided.
Lights many saw I, vivid and triumphant,
Make us a centre and themselves a circle,
More sweet in voice than luminous in aspect.
Thus girt about the daughter of Latona
We sometimes see, when pregnant is the air,
So that it holds the thread which makes her zone.1
Within the court of Heaven, whence I return,
Are many jewels found, so fair and precious
They cannot be transported from the realm ;
And of them was the singing of those lights.
Who takes not wings that he may fly up thither,
The tidings thence may from the dumb await !
x. 34-75-
S. Thomas Aquinas from out the garland made known
himself and his companions, among whom were Albertus
Magnus ; Gratian ; Peter Lombard ; Solomon ; S. Diony-
sius the Areopagite, whose treatise De ccelesti Hierarchia is
the foundation of Dante's own theory respecting the An-
gelic Orders ; Severinus Boethius; and the Venerable Bede.
On Boethius we may dwell a moment longer ; he had been
a Roman Senator whom the Gothic King Theodoric in con-
sequence of some suspicion imprisoned at Pavia, and who
there wrote the treatise De consolatione Philosophise, Dante's
comfort in the bitter mourning of his youth,2 as doubtless
also in the exile of his maturer age. This eighth radiance
of the garland was thus specially commended to notice :
1 The colours which form the halo.
1 Convito ii. 13 (see page 22).
232 Second Gar land: S.Bonaventura. — Solomon.
1 Now if thou trainest thy mind's eye along
From light to light pursuant of my praise,
With thirst already of the eighth thou waitest.
By seeing every good therein exults
The sainted Soul, which the fallacious world
Makes manifest to him who listeneth well ;
The body whence 'twas hunted forth is lying
Down in Cieldauro, and from martyrdom
And banishment it came unto this peace.'
x. 121-129.
All aglow with charity, the great Dominican Saint pro-
ceeded to dilate first on the glories, not of his own Founder,
but of the ' seraphic ' S. Francis of Assisi ; and then, while
exalting S, Dominic, severely to condemn the corruptions
which had crept into his Order. But anon round the first
saintly garland formed a second, among whose component
roses were Hugh de S. Victor, the Prophet Nathan, S.
Chrysostom, S. Anselm, and S. Bonaventura the Franciscan,
who emulous of S. Thomas' humility and charity first
narrated the acts of the ' cherubic ' S. Dominic : and alas !
found hardly less reason to conclude by censuring his own
Order than by extolling its Founder S. Francis.
Then S. Thomas spoke again. In naming one by one
the Saints of the first garland he had said of Solomon, the
Singer of the Canticles and the wisest of mankind,
1 The fifth light, that among us is the fairest,
Breathes forth from such a love that all the world
Below is greedy to learn tidings of it.
Within it is the lofty mind, where knowledge
So deep was put, that, if the true be true,
To see so much there never rose a second : '
(X. 109-114)
'Judge nothing before the time? 233
and this concluding assertion had wrought in his hearer's
mind a perplexity which the Angelic Doctor removed by
explaining that Regal Prudence is the one and only point
of this King's unique eminence among the sons of men.
And after an admonition against hasty sentence in matters
of reasoning, he gave yet more solemn warning against self-
intrusion into the Eternal Judgment-Seat :
* Nor yet shall people be too confident
In judging, even as he is who doth count
The corn in field or ever it be ripe.
For I have seen all winter long the thorn
First show itself intractable and fierce,
And after bear the rose upon its top ;
And I have seen a ship direct and swift
Run o'er the sea throughout its course entire,
To perish at the harbour's mouth at last
Let not Dame Bertha nor Ser Martin think,
Seeing one steal, another offering make,
To see them in the arbitrament divine ;
For one may rise, and fall the other may.'
XIII. 130-142.
Beatrice next besought on Dante's behalf instruction
respecting another truth.
' This man has need (and does not tell you so,
Nor with the voice, nor even in his thought)
Of going to the root of one truth more.
Declare unto him if the light wherewith
Blossoms your substance shall remain with yon
Eternally the same that it is now ;
And if it do remain, say in what manner,
After ye are again made visible,
It can be that it injure not your sight'
234 Of the Saints" vesture of light.
As by a greater gladness urged and drawn
They who are dancing in a ring sometimes
Uplift their voices and their motions quicken ;
So, at that orison devout and prompt,
The holy circles a new joy displayed
In their revolving and their wondrous song.
Whoso lamenteth him that here we die
That we may live above, has never there
Seen the refreshment of the eternal rain.
The One and Two and Three who ever liveth,
And reigneth ever in Three and Two and One,
Not circumscribed and all things circumscribing,
Three several times was chanted by each one
Among those Spirits with such melody
That for all merit it were just reward ;
And, in the lustre most divine of all
The lesser ring, I heard a modest voice,1
Such as perhaps the Angel's was to Mary,
Answer : 2 ' As long as the festivity
Of Paradise shall be, so long our Love
Shall radiate round about us such a vesture.
Its brightness is proportioned to the ardour,
The ardour to the vision ; and the vision
Equals what grace it has above its worth.8
When, glorious and sanctified, our flesh
Is reassumed, then shall our persons be
More pleasing by their being all complete ;
For will increase whate'er bestows on us
Of light gratuitous the Good Supreme,
1 Solomon's.
2 So long as Paradise shall last, so long shall God our Love radiate
this vesture of light around us. Its brightness is in proportion to the
ardour of our charity, that ardour to our vision of God ; and that vision
is in proportion to the grace bestowed upon the soul over and above its
natural powers.
Of the risen and glorified Body. 235
Light which enables us to look on Him ;
Therefore the vision must perforce increase,
Increase the ardour which from that is kindled.
Increase the radiance which from this, proceeds.
But 1even as a coal that sends forth flame,
And by its vivid whiteness overpowers it
So that its own appearance it maintains,
Thus the effulgence that surrounds us now
Shall be o'erpowered in aspect by the flesh,1
Which still to-day the earth doth cover up ;
Nor can so great a splendour weary us,
For strong will be the organs of the body
To everything which hath the power to please us.'
So sudden and alert appeared to me
Both one and the other choir to say Amen,
That well they showed desire for their dead bodies ;
Nor sole for them perhaps, but for the mothers,
The fathers, and the rest who had been dear
Or ever they became eternal flames.
And lo ! all round about of equal brightness
Arose a lustre over what was there,
Like an horizon that is clearing up.
And as at rise of early eve begin
Along the welkin new appearances,
So that the sight seems real and unreal,
It seemed to me that new subsistences
Began there to be seen, and make a circle
Outside the other two circumferences.
O very sparkling of the Holy Spirit,
How sudden and incandescent it became
Unto mine eyes, that vanquished bore it not !
1 Even as a coal sending out a flame does yet by its own vivid bright-
ness so overpower that flame as to be still distinguished as coal, so will
the risen body of flesh be distinguishable notwithstanding the effulgence
236 The Blessed in Mars: the radiant Cross.
But Beatrice so beautiful and smiling
Appeared to me, that with the other sights
That followed not my memory I must leave her.
Then to uplift themselves mine eyes resumed
The power, and I beheld myself translated
To higher salvation with my Lady only.
Well was I ware that I was more uplifted
By the enkindled smiling of the star,
That seemed to me more ruddy than its wont.
With all my heart, and in that dialect
Which is the same in all, such holocaust
To God I made as the new grace beseemed ;
And not yet from my bosom was exhausted
The ardour of sacrifice, before I knew
This offering was accepted and auspicious :
For with so great a lustre and so red
Splendours appeared to me in twofold rays,
I said : * O Helios who dost so adorn them ! '
Even as distinct with less and greater lights
Glimmers between the two poles of the world
The Galaxy that maketh wise men doubt,
Thus constellated in the depths of Mars,
Those rays described the venerable sign
That quadrants joining in a circle make.
Here doth my memory overcome my genius :
For on that cross as levin gleamed forth Christ,
So that I cannot find ensample worthy ;
But he who takes his cross and follows Christ
Again will pardon me what I omit,
Seeing in that aurora lighten Christ.
From horn to horn, and 'twixt the top and base,
Lights were in motion, brightly scintillating
As they together met and passed each other.
xiv. 1 0-7 1 1.
D antes great-great-grandfather Cacciaguida. 237
An ineffable melody of a hymn to the Conqueror of
Death resounded all over the Cross; then the hush of
charity fell upon it that the stranger might speak and hear.
But lo an individual star from out that constellation saluted
him kinsman, giving fervent thanks for the grace super-
abounding towards him, and uttering afterwards things such
as no mortal mind can comprehend. Then most loving
and courteous words invited question ; and question was
made forthwith.
* Truly do I entreat thee, living topaz !
Set in this precious jewel as a gem,
That thou wilt satisfy me with thy name.'
* O leaf of mine, in whom I pleasure took
E'en while awaiting, I was thine own root ! '
Such a beginning he in answer made me.
Then said to me : ' That one from whom is named
Thy race, and who a hundred years and more
Has circled round the mount on the first cornice,
A son of mine and thy great-grandsire was ;
Well it behoves thee that the long fatigue
Thou shouldst for him make shorter with thy works.
Florence, within the ancient boundary
From which she taketh still her tierce and nones,1
Abode in quiet, temperate and chaste.
No golden chain she had, nor coronal,
Nor ladies shod with sandal shoon, nor girdle
That caught the eye more than the person did.
Not yet the daughter at her birth struck fear
Into the father, for the time and dower
1 Some say the Hours were sung in the Abbey, others in the Palazzo
Pubblico ; both within the circuit of the ancient walls. (Fraticelli
in loc.)
R
238 Florence in Cacciaguidas time.
Did not o'errun this side or that the measure.
No houses had she void of families,
Not yet had thither come Sardanapalus
To show what in a chamber can be done ;
Not yet surpassed had Montemalo been
By your Uccellatojo, which surpassed x
Shall in its downfall be as in its rise.
Bellincion Berti 2 saw I go begirt
With leather and with bone, and from the mirror
His dame depart without a painted face ;
And him of Nerli saw, and him of Vecchio,3
Contented with their simple suits of buff,
And with the spindle and the flax their dames.
O fortunate women ! and each one was certain
Of her own burial-place, and none as yet
For sake of France was in her bed deserted.
One o'er the cradle kept her studious watch,
And in her lullaby the language used
That first delights the fathers and the mothers ;
Another, drawing tresses from her distaff,
Told o'er among her family the tales
Of Trojans and of Fesole and Rome.
As great a marvel then would have been held
A Lapo Salterello, a Cianghella,4
As Cincinnatus or Cornelia now.
To such a quiet, such a beautiful
Life of the citizen, to such a safe
Community, and to so sweet an inn,
Did Mary give me, with loud cries invoked,
i The Hill of Montemalo overlooks Rome, that of the Uccellatojo
Florence, which latter city had now surpassed Rome in the splendour
of its buildings.
*• 8 Florentine nobles.
* Persons notorious for vice.
Cacciaguidds history. 239
And in your ancient Baptistery at once
Christian and Cacciaguida I became.
Moronto was my brother, and Eliseo ;
From Val di Pado came to me my wife,1
And from that place thy surname was derived.
I followed afterward the Emperor Conrad,2
And he begirt me of his chivalry,
So much I pleased him with my noble deeds.
I followed in his train against that law's
Iniquity, whose people doth usurp
Your just possessions, through your Pastor's fault.
There by that execrable race was I
Released from bonds of the fallacious world,
The love of which defileth many souls,
And came from martyrdom unto this peace.'
XV. 85-148.
Long, long did ancestor and descendant continue to
converse of Florence past and present : then the younger
besought clear knowledge of that future darkly hinted to
him in Hell and in Purgatory ; and the elder, seeing all
things reflected in the Eternal Mind as in a mirror, uttered
what he saw.
'As forth from Athens went Hippolytus,
By reason of his step-dame false and cruel,
So thou from Florence must perforce depart.
Already this is willed, and this is sought for ;
And soon it shall be done by him who thinks it,
Where every day the Christ is bought and sold.
1 From Ferrara in the Valley of the Pado or Po. She was of the
Aldighieri or Allighieri family.
2 Conrad in., the first Emperor of the House of Hohenstauffen, was
one of the leaders of the Second Crusade.
240 Cacciaguida predicts Dante s exile.
1 The blame shall follow the offended party
In outcry as is usual ; but the vengeance
Shall witness to the truth that doth dispense it.1
Thou shalt abandon everything beloved
Most tenderly, and this the arrow is
Which first the bow of banishment shoots forth.
Thou shalt have proof how savoureth of salt
The bread of others, and how hard a road
The going down and up another's stairs.
And that which most shall weigh upon thy shoulders
Will be the bad and foolish company
With which into this valley thou shalt fall ;
For all ingrate, all mad and impious
Will they become against thee ; but soon after
They, and not thou, shall have the forehead scarlet.
Of their bestiality their own proceedings
Shall furnish proof ; so 'twill be well for thee
A party to have made thee by thyself.
Son, these are the commentaries
On what was said to thee : behold the snares
That are concealed behind few revolutions ;
Yet would I not thy neighbours thou shouldst envy,
Because thy life into the future reaches
Beyond the punishment of their perfidies.'
When by its silence showed that sainted soul
That it had finished putting in the woof
Into that web which I had given it warped,
Began I, even as he who yearneth after,
Being in doubt, some counsel from a person
Who seeth, and uprightly wills, and loves :
1 As usual in this world, thou who comest off worst wilt be con-
sidered in the wrong ; but the vengeance that shall overtake thy perse-
cutors from Him Who is the Truth shall witness to the truth.
urges him to boldness of speech. 241
4 Well see I, father mine, how spurreth on
The time towards me such a blow to deal me
As heaviest is to him who most gives way.
Therefore with foresight it is well I arm me,
That, if the dearest place be taken from me,
I may not lose the others by my songs.1
Down through the world of infinite bitterness,
And o'er the mountain, from whose beauteous summit
The eyes of my own Lady lifted me,
And afterward through Heaven from light to light,
I have learned that which, if I tell again,
Will be a savour of strong herbs to many.
And if I am a timid friend to truth,
I fear lest I may lose my life with those
Who will hereafter call this time the olden.'
The light in which was smiling my own treasure
Which there I had discovered, flashed at first
As in the sunshine doth a golden mirror ;
Then made reply : ' A conscience overcast
Or with its own or with another's shame,
Will taste forsooth the tartness of thy word ;
But ne'ertheless, all falsehood laid aside,
Make manifest thy vision utterly,
And let them scratch wherever is the itch ;
For if thine utterance shall offensive be
At the first taste, a vital nutriment
'T will leave thereafter, when it is digested.
This cry of thine shall do as doth the wind,
Which smiteth most the most exalted summits,
And that is no slight argument of honour.
Therefore are shown to thee within these wheels,
1 That if I am exiled from my country, I may not for telling unwel-
come truths be expelled from every place of refuge.
242 The Warrior Saints.
Upon the mount and in the dolorous valley,
Only the Souls that unto fame are known ;
Because the spirit of the hearer rests not,
Nor doth confirm its faith by an example
Which has the root of it unknown and hidden.
Or other reason that is not apparent.'
xvn. 46-69, 94-142.
Comforted in his prospective sorrows by the love and
bliss shining on him through the eyes of his Beloved, the
future exile from among his fellow-citizens of Florence
applied himself to learn from his progenitor some renowned
names of his fellow-citizens of Paradise ; each name as it
resounded being claimed by the owner's flashing in his
place in one or other arm of the Cross. Joshua flashed,
and Judas Maccabseus ; Charlemagne and Roland ; the
Crusaders Godfrey of Bouillon, William of Orange, and his
kinsman Rinaldo ; finally, Robert Guiscard the Norman
conqueror of Sicily from the Saracens. Cacciaguida re-
turned to sing at his post within the Cross ; and there was
a pause.
To my right side I turned myself around,
My duty to behold in Beatrice
Either by words or gesture signified ;
And so translucent I beheld her eyes,
So full of pleasure, that her countenance
Surpassed its other and its latest wont.
And as, by feeling greater delectation,
A man in doing good from day to day
Becomes aware his virtue is increasing,
So I became aware that my gyration
With Heaven together had increased its arc,
The Blessed in Jupiter. 243
That miracle beholding more adorned.
And such as is the change, in little lapse
Of time, in a pale woman, when her face
Is from the load of bashfulness unladen,
Such was it in mine eyes, when I had turned,
Caused by the whiteness of the temperate star,
The sixth, which to itself had gathered me.
xvili. 52-69.
Here certain radiant Spirits so arranged themselves as
successively to form each of the thirty-five letters of the
sentence, ' Diligite justitiam, qui judicatis terram.' Then
more Lights descended to enwreathe the final m, and at
length, when all had developed into the form of the
crowned Eagle of the Latin Empire, the Saints constituting
the Beak began to sing of their own and their fellows' exal-
tation hither on account of their Justice and Mercy.
Whence I thereafter : * O perpetual flowers
Of the eternal joy, that only one
Make me perceive your odours manifold,
Exhaling, break within me the great fast
Which a long season has in hunger held me,
Not finding for it any food on earth.
Well do I know, that if in Heaven its mirror
Justice Divine another realm doth make,
Yours apprehends it not through any veil.
You know how I attentively address me
To listen ; and you know what is the doubt
That is in me so very old a fast.'
Even as a falcon, issuing from his hood,
Doth move his head, and with his wings applaud him,
Showing desire, and making himself fine,
Saw I become that standard, which of lauds
Was interwoven of the grace divine,
244 The Divine Justice is inscmtable.
With such song's as he knows who there rejoices.
Then it began : ' He Who a compass turned
On the world's outer verge, and Who within it
Devised so much occult and manifest,
Could not the impress of His power so make
On all the universe, as that His Word
Should not remain in infinite excess.1
And this makes certain that the first proud being,2
Who was the paragon of every creature,
By not awaiting light fell immature.
And hence appears it, that each minor nature
Is scant receptacle unto that Good
Which has no end, and by Itself is measured.
In consequence our vision, which perforce
Must be some ray of that Intelligence
With Which all things whatever are replete,
Cannot in its own nature be so potent.
That it shall not its Origin discern
Far beyond that which is apparent to it3
Therefore into the justice sempiternal
The power of vision that your world receives,
As eye into the ocean penetrates ;
Which, though it see the bottom near the shore,
Upon the deep perceives it not, and yet
'Tis there, but it is hidden by the depth.
* There is no light but comes from the serene
That never is o'ercast, nay, it is darkness
Or shadow of the flesh, or else its poison.4
1 Should not infinitely exceed the intelligence of the highest creature.
2 See page 15.
8 Discern God its Origin infinitely to surpass its own perceptions.
4 Nothing is light but that which comes from God's unclouded
Brightness ; whatever else claims to be so is darkness, or a shadow
cast by the flesh, or the poison of false judgment bred in the senses.
Dante's question respecting the Heathen. 245
Amply to thee is opened now the cavern
Which has concealed from thee the living justice
Of which thou mad'st such frequent questioning.
For saidst thou : " Born a man is on the shore
Of Indus, and is none who there can speak
Of Christ, nor who can read, nor who can write ;
And all his inclinations and his actions
Are good, so far as human reason sees,
Without a sin in life or in discourse :
He dieth unbaptized and without faith ;
Where is this justice that condemneth him ?
Where is his fault, if he do not believe ? "
Now who art thou, that on the bench wouldst sit
In judgment at a thousand miles away,
With the short vision of a single span ?
1 Truly to him who with me subtilizes,
If so the Scripture were not over you,
For doubting there were marvellous occasion.1
O animals terrene, O stolid minds,
The primal Will, that in Itself is good,
Ne'er from Itself, the Good Supreme, has moved.
So much is just as is accordant with It ;
No good created draws It to itself,
But It, by raying forth, occasions that.'
Even as above her nest goes circling round
The stork when she has fed her little ones,
And he who has been fed looks up at her,
So lifted I my brows, and even such
Became the blessed image, which its wings
Was moving, by so many counsels urged.
1 Truly to him who so subtilely argues with me there would be great
occasion to doubt, were not the Scripture far above all human argu-
ments.
246 Bad Christians far worse than the Heathen .
Circling around it sang, and said : ' As are
My notes to thee, who dost not comprehend them,
Such is the eternal judgment to you mortals.'
Those lucent splendours of the Holy Spirit
Grew quiet then, but still within the standard
That made the Romans reverend to the world.
It recommenced : ' Unto this kingdom never
Ascended one who had not faith in Christ,
Before or since He to the tree was nailed.
But look thou, many crying are, " Christ, Christ ! "
Who at the judgment shall be far less near
To Him than some shall be who knew not Christ.
Such Christians shall the Ethiop condemn,
When the two companies shall be divided,
The one for ever rich, the other poor.
What to your kings may not the Persians say,
When they that volume opened shall behold
In which are written down all their dispraises ? '
xix. 22-114.
And then followed the special dispraises of the reigning
Princes of Europe ; of the Emperor Albert i. for his invasion
and occupation of Bohemia, of Philippe le Bel for his de-
basement of the coin, of Edward i. and his Scottish rival for
their pride and ambition, of Charles the Lame of Naples
for the virtue ' whereof I and the vices whereof M is the
numeral, and of many others of less familiar names on
various grounds. — Songs of unspeakable sweetness filled up
a pause ; and soon the Beak spoke again, giving account
of the six specially exalted Spirits forming the Eye. The
Pupil was David. The first of the five of the Eyebrow was
Trajan, in the Middle Ages popularly believed to have
1 Par. viii. 82 (p. 229).
Trajan; Ripheus. — The ascent to Saturn. 247
been delivered from Hell and resuscitated on earth through
S. Gregory the Great being- moved to intercede for him for
love of his eminent justice, and in that second brief earthly
life to have embraced Christianity, received Baptism, and
merited Paradise. The other four were Hezekiah ; Con-
stantine the Great; William the Good of Naples and Sicily;
and Ripheus the Trojan, supposed by Dante to have been
first enabled by special grace to set all his affections on
justice, and so to have passed on to the further grace of
foreseeing the future Redemption, reproving idolatry, and
having for Baptism the three Theological Virtues. As here
no popular or legendary belief seems adducible, we may, I
think, assume this last case to be imagined as the Poet's
own reply to his recently-cited question respecting Eternal
Justice towards a perfectly virtuous heathen ; * a reply
amounting to this — that no heathen could be perfectly vir-
tuous save by a miracle of grace ; and that supposing this
first miracle performed, a second might much rather be
expected to infuse a faith that cometh not by hearing, than
faith itself be dispensed with as the condition of salvation.
The imagination of such a case is in fact an expansion of
the Eagle's words before cited,
* No good created draws It to itself,
But It, by raying forth, occasions that.'
XIX. 89, go.8
The ascent to Saturn was not merely insensible, but un-
marked even by the smile of Beatrice, whose glory would at
this point have been unendurable by mortal man. Here
Jacob's Ladder, the golden-hued symbol of Divine Con-
lPar. xix. 70-78 (p. 245). 8See the same page.
248 The Blessed in Saturn. — S. Peter Damian
templation, stretched up into heights untraceable; and
Saints as countless stars shimmered up and down upon it, but
sang not — as one of them explained to Dante — for the same
reason that Beatrice did not smile. The explainer was S.
Peter Damian, a Benedictine monk made by Pope Stephen
ix. Cardinal and Bishop of Ostia. His farther statement
that not greater love to the Pilgrim guest than his com-
panions nourished, but Divine Election was the cause of his
being the one to present himself to hear and to reply,
moved Dante to inquire the ground of such election.
No sooner had I come to the last word,
Than of its middle made the light a centre,
Whirling itself about like a swift millstone.
Then answer made the love that was therein :
* On me directed is a light divine,
Piercing through this in which I am embosomed,
Of which the virtue with my sight conjoined
Lifts me above myself so far, I see
The Supreme Essence from which this is drawn.
Hence comes the joyfulness with which I flame,
For to my sight, as far as it is clear,
The clearness of the flame I equal make.
But that Soul in the Heaven which is most pure.
That Seraph which his eye on God most fixes,
Could this demand of thine not satisfy ;
Because so deeply sinks in the abyss
Of the eternal statute what thou askest.
From all created sight it is cut off.
And to the mortal world, when thou returnest,
This carry back, that it may not presume
Longer tow'rd such a goal to move its feet.
The mind that shineth here, on earth doth smoke ;
discourses of Election. — 6\ Benedict. 249
From this observe how can it do below
That which it cannot though the Heaven assume it?'
XXI. 79-102.
The Saint refused not however to name himself when
requested ; after which he severely animadverted on the
worldliness of the churchmen of the day, and a thunder-cry
to the Divine Justice went up from the radiant multitude.
Beatrice having calmed her disciple's consequent fear,
directed his attention to that multitude. Its largest and
brightest pearl, S. Benedict, then declared himself, and
pointed out S. Macarius and S. Romuald.
And I to him : ' The affection which thou showest
Speaking with me, and the good countenance
Which I behold and note in all your ardours,
In me have so my confidence dilated
As the sun doth the rose, when it becomes
As far unfolded as it hath the power.
Therefore I pray, and thou assure me, father,
If I may so much grace receive, that I
May thee behold with countenance unveiled.'
He thereupon : * Brother, thy high desire
In the remotest sphere shall be fulfilled,
Where are fulfilled all others and my own.
There perfect is, and ripened, and complete,
Every desire ; within that one alone
Is every part where it has always been ; *
For it is not in space, nor turns on poles,
And unto it our stairway reaches up,
Whence thus from out thy sight it steals away.
Up to that height the Patriarch Jacob saw it
Extending its supernal part, what time
So thronged with angels it appeared to him.
xxii. 52-72.
1 The Empyrean is motionless.
250 The ascent into the Starry Heaven,
He ended with rebuke — the relaxation of the Monastic
Orders supplying the text —
. . . and then withdrew
To his own band, and the band closed together ;
Then like a whirlwind all was upward rapt.
The gentle Lady urged me on behind them
Up o'er that stairway by a single sign,
So did her virtue overcome my nature ;
Nor here below, where one goes up and down
By natural law, was motion e'er so swift
That it could be compared unto my wing.
Reader, as I may unto that devout
Triumph return, on whose account I often
For my transgressions weep and beat my breast, —
Thou hadst not thrust thy finger in the fire
And drawn it out again, before I saw
The sign that follows Taurus, and was in it.
XXII. 97-111.
This is the Sign of Gemini, under which Dante, as he
proceeds to relate, was born ; he was now in the Heaven
of the Fixed Stars, contemplating them one by one, and
looking down on Earth through all the Planetary Heavens.
O glorious stars, O light impregnated
With mighty virtue, from which I acknowledge
All of my genius, whatsoe'er it be,
With you was born, and hid himself with you,
He who is father of all mortal life,
When first I tasted of the Tuscan air ;
And then when grace was freely given to me
To enter the high wheel which turns you round,
Your region was allotted unto me.
To you devoutly at this hour my soul
Is sighing, that it virtue may acquire
whence Dante looks down upon Earth. 251
For the stern pass that draws it to itself.1
' Thou art so near unto the last salvation,'2
Thus Beatrice began, * thou oughtest now
To have thine eyes unclouded and acute ;
And therefore, ere thou enter farther in,
Look down once more, and see how vast a world
Thou hast already put beneath thy feet ;
So that thy heart, as jocund as it may,
Present itself to the triumphant throng
That comes rejoicing through this rounded ether.'
I with my sight returned through one and all
The sevenfold spheres, and I beheld this globe
Such that I smiled at its ignoble semblance ;
And that opinion I approve as best
Which doth account it least ; and he who thinks
Of something else may truly be called just
I saw the daughter of Latona shining
Without that shadow which to me was cause
That once I had believed her rare and dense.3
The aspect of thy son, Hyperion,
Here I sustained, and saw how move themselves
Around and near him Maia and Dione.
Thence there appeared the temperateness of Jove
'Twixt son and father, and to me was clear
The change that of their whereabout they make ;
And all the seven made manifest to me
How great they are, and eke how swift they are,
And how they are in distant habitations.
The threshing-floor that maketh us so proud,
To me revolving with the eternal Twins,
1 The extreme difficulty of writing of the Supreme Mysteries beheld
in the Empyrean.
2 The highest beatitude.
8 The theory abandoned by Dante (see p. 212).
252 The Triumph of Christ descends. — The Sun
Was all apparent made from hill to harbour !
Then to the beauteous eyes mine eyes I turned.
xxn. 112-154.
But there were yet greater things than these to be seen •
the Triumph of Christ was about to descend.
Even as a bird, 'mid the beloved leaves,
Quiet upon the nest of her sweet brood
Throughout the night, that hideth all things from u«,
Who, that she may behold their longed-for looks
And find the food wherewith to nourish them,
In which, to her, grave labours grateful are,
Anticipates the time on open spray
And with an ardent longing waits the sun,
Gazing intent as soon as breaks the dawn :
Even thus my Lady standing was, erect
And vigilant, turned round towards the zone *
Underneath which the sun displays less haste ;
So that beholding her distraught and wistful,
Such I became as he is who desiring
For something yearns, and hoping is appeased.
But brief the space from one When to the other ;
Of my awaiting, say I, and the seeing
The welkin grow resplendent more and more.
And Beatrice exclaimed : ' Behold the hosts
Of Christ's triumphal march, and all the fruit
Harvested by the rolling of these spheres ! '
It seemed to me her face was all aflame ;
And eyes she had so full of ecstasy
That I must needs pass on without describing.
As when in nights serene of the full moon
Smiles Trivia among the nymphs eternal
Who paint the firmament through all its gulfs, .
1 The South.
of Righteousness strengthens Dante's sight. 253
Saw I, above the myriads of lamps,
A Sun1 that one and all of them enkindled,
E'en as our own doth the supernal sights,2
And through the living Light transparent shone
The lucent Substance so intensely clear
Into my sight, that I sustained it not.
0 Beatrice, thou gentle guide and dear !
To me she said : ' What overmasters thee
A virtue is from which naught shields itself.
There are the Wisdom and Omnipotence
That oped the thoroughfares 'twixt Heaven and earth.
For which there erst had been so long a yearning.'
As fire from out a cloud unlocks itself,
Dilating so it finds not room therein,
And down, against its nature, falls to earth,
• So did my mind, among those aliments
Becoming larger, issue from itself,
And that which it became cannot remember.
* Open thine eyes, and look at what I am ;
Thou hast beheld such things, that strong enough
Hast thou become to tolerate my smile.'
1 was as one who still retains the feeling
Of a forgotten vision, and endeavours
In vain to bring it back into his mind,
When I this invitation heard, deserving
Of so much gratitude, it never fades
Out of the book that chronicles the past.
If at this moment sounded all the tongues
That Polyhymnia and her sisters made
Most lubrical with their delicious milk,
To aid me, to a thousandth of the truth
It would not reach, singing the holy smile
1 Our Blessed Lord. * The sta«.
254 The Flowers of the everlasting Garden.
And how the holy aspect it illumed.
And therefore, representing Paradise,
The sacred poem must perforce leap over,
Even as a man who finds his way cut off;
But whoso thinketh of the ponderous theme,
And of the mortal shoulder laden with it,
Should blame it not, if under this it tremble.
It is no passage for a little boat
This which goes cleaving the audacious prow,
Nor for a pilot who would spare himself.
4 Why doth my face so much enamour thee,
That to the garden fair thou turnest not,
Which under the rays of Christ is blossoming ?
There is the Rose in which the Word Divine
Became incarnate ; there the lilies are
By whose perfume the good way was discovered.'
xxin. 1-75.
Dante beheld the Mystical Rose, the Virgin Mother of
God, crowned by the Archangel Gabriel in the form of a
wreath of light and melody, follow her Adorable Son into
the Empyrean. But the mystical Lilies, the Apostles, and
the rest of the Blessed remaining behind, were entreated of
Beatrice to bedew her Charge with the waters of that Living
Fountain whereof they drink unceasingly. Their consent
was betokened in their flaming velocity of revolution ; then
from the most beauteous circle stood forth in intensestglovv
S. Peter :
And she : ' O light eterne of the great man
To whom our Lord delivered up the keys
He carried down of this miraculous joy,
This one examine on points light and grave,
As good beseemeth thee, about the Faith
S. Peter examines Dante : ' What is Faith ?' 255
By means of which thou on the sea didst walk.
If he love well, and hope well, and believe,
From thee 'tis hid not ; for thou hast thy sight
There where depicted everything is seen.
But since this kingdom has made citizens
By means of the true Faith, to glorify it
'Tis well he have the chance to speak thereof.'
As baccalaureate arms himself, and speaks not
Until the master doth propose the question,
To argue it, and not to terminate it,
So did I arm myself with every reason,
While she was speaking, that I might be ready
For such a questioner and such profession.
' Say, thou good Christian ; manifest thyself ;
What is the Faith ? ' Whereat I raised my brow
Unto that light wherefrom was this breathed forth
Then turned I round to Beatrice, and she
Prompt signals made to me that I should pour
The water forth from my internal fountain.
* May grace, that suffers me to make confession,'
Began I, ' to the great centurion,
Cause my conceptions all to be explicit ! '
And I continued : ' As the truthful pen,
Father, of thy dear brother wrote of it,
Who put with thee Rome into the good way,
Faith is the substance of the things we hope for,
And evidence of those that are not seen ;
And this appears to me its quiddity.'
Then heard I : * Very rightly thou perceivest,
If well thou understandest why he placed it
With substances and then with evidences.'
And I thereafterward : ' The things profound,
That here vouchsafe to me their apparition,
Unto all eyes below are so concealed,
256 ' Hast thou Faith ? whence ? what proofs f
That they exist there only in belief,
Upon the which is founded the high hope,
And hence it takes the nature of a substance.
And it behoveth us from this belief
To reason without having other sight,
And hence it has the nature of evidence.'
Then heard I : ' If whatever is acquired
Below by doctrine were thus understood,
No sophist's subtlety would there find place.'
Thus was breathed forth from that enkindled love ;
Then added : * Very well has been gone over
Already of this coin the alloy and weight ;
But tell me if thou hast it in thy purse ? '
And I : ' Yes, both so shining and so round,
That in its stamp there is no peradventure.'
Thereafter issued from the light profound
That there resplendent was : ' This precious jewel,
Upon the which is every virtue founded,
Whence hadst thou it ? ' And I : ' The large outpouring
Of Holy Spirit, which has been diffused
Upon the ancient parchments and the new,
A syllogism is, which proved it to me
With such acuteness, that, compared therewith,
All demonstration seems to me obtuse.'
And then I heard : ' The ancient and the new
Postulates, that to thee are so conclusive,
Why dost thou take them for the word divine ? '
And I : ' The proofs, which show the truth to me,
Are the works subsequent, whereunto Nature
Ne'er heated iron yet, nor anvil beat.'
Twas answered me : * Say, who assureth thee
That those works ever were ? the thing itself
That must be proved, naught else to thee affirms it.'
' Were the world to Christianity converted.'
what believest thou f by what means ? ' 257
I said, ' withouten miracles, this one
Is such, the rest are not its hundredth part ;
Because that poor and fasting thou didst enter
Into the field to sow there the good plant,
Which was a vine and has become a thorn ! '
This being finished, the high, holy Court
Resounded through the spheres, * One God we praise !
In melody that there above is chanted.
And then that Baron, who from branch to branch,
Examining, had thus conducted me,
Till the extremest leaves we were approaching,
Again began : ' The grace that dallying
Plays with thine intellect thy mouth has opened
Up to this point, as it should opened be,
So that I do approve what forth emerged ;
But now thou must express what thou believest,
And whence to thy belief it was presented.'
' O holy father, Spirit who beholdest
What thou believest so that thou o'ercamest,
Towards the sepulchre, more youthful feet,'
Began I, ' thou dost wish me in this place
The form to manifest of my prompt belief,
And likewise thou the cause thereof demandest.
4nd I respond : In one God I believe,
Sole and eterne, Who moveth all the Heavens
With love and with desire, Himself unmoved ;
And of such faith not only have I proofs
Physical and metaphysical, but gives them
Likewise the truth that from this place rains down
Through Moses, through the Prophets and the Psalms,
Through the Evangel, and through you, who wrote
After the fiery Spirit sanctified you ;
In Persons three eterne believe, and these
One essence I believe, so one and trine
258 S. Peter blesses Dante. — S. James asks:
They bear conjunction both with sunt and est.1
With the profound condition and divine
Which now I touch upon, doth stamp my mind
Ofttimes the doctrine evangelical.
This the beginning is, this is the spark
Which afterwards dilates to vivid flame,
And, like a star in heaven, is sparkling in me/
Even as a lord who hears what pleaseth him
His servant straight embraces, gratulating
For the good news as soon as he is silent ;
So, giving me its benediction, singing,
Three times encircled me, when I was silent,
The apostolic light, at whose command
I spoken had, in speaking I so pleased him.
xxiv. 34-154-
Alas that the craving next expressed was never satis-
fied!
If e'er it happen that the Poem Sacred,
To which both Heaven and Earth have set their hand,
So that it many a year hath made me lean,
O'ercome the cruelty that bars me out
From the fair sheepfold, where a lamb I slumbered,
An enemy to the wolves that war upon it,
With other voice forthwith, with other fleece
Poet will I return, and at my font
Baptismal will I take the laurel crown ;
Because into the Faith that maketh known
All souls to God there entered I, and then
Peter for her sake thus my brow encircled.
XXV. 1-12.
S. James the Great then issued from the Apostolic Choir.
1 Are and is.
' What is Hope ? hast thou Hope f whence ?' 259
Dante evidently attributes to him — not, like modern com-
mentators, to S. James the Less — the General Epistle which
specially inspires Hope by its boundless promises to prayer :
* If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giv-
eth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not ; and it shall be
given him.' ' Every good gift and every perfect gift is from
above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with
Whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.' l
Smiling thereafterwards, said Beatrice :
4 Illustrious life, by whom the benefactions
Of our Basilica have been described,
Make Hope resound within this altitude ;
Thou knowest as oft thou dost personify it
As Jesus to the three gave greater clearness.' —
* Lift up thy head, and make thyself assured ;
For what comes hither from the mortal world
Must needs be ripened in our radiance.'
This comfort came to me from the second fire ;
Wherefore mine eyes I lifted to the hills,
Which bent them down before with too great weight.
* Since through His grace our Emperor wills that thou
Shouldst find thee face to face, before thy death.
In the most secret chamber, with His Counts,
So that, the truth beholden of this court,2
Hope, which below there rightfully enamours,
Thereby thou strengthen in thyself and others,
Say what it is, and how is flowering with it
Thy mind, and say from whence it came to thee.'
Thus did the second light again continue.
xxv. 28-48.
1 S. James i. 5, 17.
8 Having actually beheld the very truth of this Court of Heaven.
260 Dante has Hope: what it is : whence.
But the second question was one Dante could hardly
answer without vainglory :
And the Compassionate, who piloted
The plumage of my wings in such high flight,
Did in reply anticipate me thus :
' No child whatever the Church Militant
Of greater hope possesses, as is written
In that Sun which irradiates all our band ;
Therefore it is conceded him from Egypt
To come into Jerusalem to see,
Or ever yet his warfare be completed.
The two remaining points, that not for knowledge
Have been demanded, but that he report
How much this virtue unto thee is pleasing,
To him I leave ; for hard he will not find them,
Nor of self-praise ; and let him answer them ;
And may the grace of God in this assist him ! ;
As a disciple, who his teacher follows,
Ready and willing, where he is expert,
That his proficiency may be displayed,
' Hope,' said I, ' is the certain expectation
Of future glory, which is the effect
Of grace divine and merit precedent.1
From many stars this light comes unto me ;
But he instilled it first into my heart
Who was chief singer unto the chief Captain.
' Sperent in Te] 2 in the high Theody
He sayeth, ' those who know Thy Name ' ; and who
Knoweth it not, if he my faith possess ?
Thou didst instil me, then, with his instilling
1 This definition of Hope is from Peter Lombard the Master of Sen-
tences, whom we saw in the First Garland of holy Doctors (p. 231).
* Let them hope in Thee. Ps. ix. u, Vulgate; ix. 10, E.P.V.
' What doth Hope promise thee ?' 26 1
In the Epistle, so that I am full,
And upon others rain again your rain.'
While I was speaking, in the living bosom
Of that combustion quivered an effulgence,
Sudden and frequent, in the guise of lightning ;
Then breathed : ' The love wherewith I am inflamed
Towards the virtue still which followed me
Unto the palm and issue of the field,
Wills that I breathe to thee that thou delight
In her ; and grateful to me is thy telling
Whatever things Hope promises to thee.'
And I : l ' The ancient Scriptures and the new
The mark establish, and this shows it me,
Of all the souls whom God hath made His friends.1
Isaiah saith, that each one garmented
In his own land shall be with twofold garments.
And his own land is this delightful life.
Thy brother, too, far more explicitly,
There where he treateth of the robes of white,
This revelation manifests to us.'
And first, and near the ending of these words,
' Sperent in Te ' from over us was heard,
To which responsive answered all the carols.
xxv. 49-99.
Isaiah's words referred to above are these : ' Therefore in
their land they shall possess the double; everlasting joy
shall be unto them : ' 2 — and ' the double ' is interpreted of
the soul's beatitude and the body's glorification.
S. John now came and stood with his two brethren : and
Dante, eager to ascertain by his possessing or not a body of
1 Both Testaments fix the mark to be aimed at by all the friends of
God; and this Heaven in which I stand actually places that mark
before my eyes. 8 Isaiah Ixi. 7-
262 S. John asks: ' Whom lovest thou f by what
flesh the truth or falsehood of the belief * that that disciple
should not die/ gazed at him so fixedly that soon the blind-
ness of dazzling ensued. S. John assured him that none,
save only the Lord and His Mother, wears as yet in Heaven
the twofold garment; and while blindness still prolonged
inability to discern even Beatrice, consoled him with the
promise of restoration by her power, and examined him
concerning Love, asking first whereon his soul stayed itself.
The answer came :
' The Good, that gives contentment to this Court,
The Alpha and Omega is of all
The writing that love reads me low or loud.'
The selfsame voice, that taken had from me
The terror of the sudden dazzlement,
To speak still farther put it in my thought ;
And said : ' In verity with finer sieve
Behoveth thee to sift ; thee it behoveth
To say who aimed thy bow at such a target.'
And I : ' By philosophic arguments,
And by authority that hence descends,
Such love must needs imprint itself in me ;
For Good, so far as good, when comprehended
Doth straight enkindle love, and so much greater
As more of goodness in itself it holds ;
Then to that Essence (Whose is such advantage
That every good which out of It is found
Is nothing but a ray of Its own light)
More than elsewhither must the mind be moved
Of every one, in loving, who discerns
The truth in which this evidence is founded.
Such truth he * to my intellect reveals
1 Probably Aristotle.
means ? wherefore ? what else in Him ?' 263
Who demonstrates to me the Primal Love
Of all the sempiternal substances.
The voice reveals it of the truthful Author,
Who says to Moses, speaking of Himself,
" I will make all My goodness pass before thee."
Thou too revealest it to me, beginning
The loud Evangel, that proclaims the secret
Of Heaven to Earth above all other edict.'
And I heard say : ' By human intellect
And by authority concordant with it,
Of all thy loves reserve for God the highest.
But say again if other cords thou feelest
Draw thee towards Him, that thou mayst proclaim
With how many teeth this love is biting thee.'
The holy purpose of the Eagle of Christ
Not latent was, nay, rather I perceived
Whither he fain would my profession lead.
Therefore I recommenced : ' All of those bites
Which have the power to turn the heart to God
Unto my charity have been concurrent.
The being of the world, and my own being,
The death which He endured that I may live,
And that which all the faithful hope, as I do,
With the forementioned vivid consciousness
Have drawn me from the sea of love perverse,
And of the right have placed me on the shore.
The leaves, wherewith embowered is all the garden
Of the Eternal Gardener, do I love
As much as He has granted them of good.'
As soon as I had ceased, a song most sweet
Throughout the Heaven resounded, and my Lady
Said with the others, * Holy, holy, holy ! '
XXVI. 16-69.
Then Beatrice by her healing gaze restored, nay strength-
264 A dam sets forth
ened the sight of her Beloved; and amazed he asked
respecting a fourth resplendent Spirit standing with the
three.
And said my Lady : ' There within those rays
Gazes upon its Maker the first Soul
That ever the first Virtue did create.'
Even as the bough that downward bends its top
At transit of the wind, and then is lifted
By its own virtue, which inclines it upward,
Likewise did I, the while that she was speaking,
Being amazed, and then I was made bold
By a desire to speak wherewith I burned.
And I began : ' O apple, that mature
Alone hast been produced, O ancient father,
To whom each wife is daughter and daughter-in-law,
Devoutly as I can I supplicate thee
That thou wouldst speak to me ; thou seest my wish,
And I, to hear thee quickly, speak it not.'
Sometimes an animal, when covered, struggles
So that his impulse needs must be apparent.
By reason of the wrappage following it ;
And in like manner the primeval soul
Made clear to me athwart its covering
How jubilant it was to give me pleasure.
Then breathed : * Without thy uttering it to me,
Thine inclination better I discern
Than thou whatever thing is surest to thee ;
For I behold it in the truthful Mirror,
That of Himself all things parhelion makes,1
And none makes Him parhelion of itself.
1 ' Parhelion is an imperfect image of the sun, formed by reflection in
the clouds. All things are such faint reflections of the Creator ; but H*
is the reflection of none of them.'
four points concerning himself . 265
Thou fain wouldst hear how long ago God placed me
Within the lofty garden, where this Lady
Unto so long a stairway thee disposed.
And how long to mine eyes it was a pleasure,
And of the great disdain the proper cause,1
And the language that I used and that I made.
Now, son of mine, the tasting of the tree
Not in itself was cause of so great exile,
But solely the o'erstepping of the bounds.
There, whence thy Lady moved Virgilius,
Four thousand and three hundred and two circuits
Made by the sun, this Council I desired ;
And him I saw return to all the lights
Of his highway nine hundred times and thirty,
Whilst I upon the earth was tarrying.
The language that I spake was quite extinct
Before that in the work interminable
The people under Nimrod were employed ;
For nevermore result of reasoning
(Because of human pleasure that doth change,
Obedient to the Heavens) was durable.
A natural action is it that man speaks ;
But whether thus or thus, doth nature leave
To your own art, as seemeth best to you.
Ere I descended to the infernal anguish,
El was on earth the name of the Chief Good,
From Whom comes all the joy that wraps me round ;
Eli He then was called, and that is proper,
Because the use of men is like a leaf
On bough, which goeth and another cometh.
Upon the mount that highest o'er the wave
Rises was I, in life or pure or sinful,
1 The precise cause why the eating of the fruit brought on Man the
exceeding Wrath of God.
266 The ascent to the Primmn Mobilel
From the first hour to that which is the second,
As the sun changes quadrant, to the sixth.' 1
XXVI. 82-142.
But lo a change in the face of Heaven. S. Peter's white
effulgence, and sympathetically that of all the Blessed,
flushed indignant red as he descanted on the earthliness,
worldliness, and violence, too often tainting his Holy See.
And after charging him who was to return among men not
to hide what he himself had not hidden, with the whole
light-storm of triumphant Saints he swept up into the
Empyrean. When they could be seen no more, Beatrice
invited one last look towards Earth; and Dante having
beheld it all reduced to pettiness, returned to gaze on the
countenance where all was greatness. Gazing he was again
uplifted, and they stood together in the Primum Mobile :
'And in this Heaven there is no other Where
Than in the Mind Divine, Wherein is kindled
The love that turns it, and the power it rains.
Within a circle light and love embrace it,
Even as this doth the others, and that precinct
He who encircles it alone controls.'
xxvn. 109-114.
And Beatrice lamented the sore corruptions which leave
human innocence and faith the portion of babes alone : and
Dante turned even from her eyes to contemplate the
peculiar vision of the Ninth Heaven, the circling of the
Angelic Hierarchy round the Divine Centre.
A Point beheld I that was raying out
Light so acute, the sight which It enkindles
Must close perforce before such great acuteness.
1 See page 15.
The Nine Angelic Circles. 267
And whatsoever star seems smallest here
Would seem to be a moon if placed beside It
As one star with another star is placed.
Perhaps at such a distance as appears
A halo cincturing the light that paints it,
When densest is the vapour that sustains it,
Thus distant round the Point a circle of fire
So swiftly whirled, that it would have surpassed
Whatever motion soonest girds the world ;
And this was by another circumcinct,
That by a third, the third then by a fourth,
By a fifth the fourth, and then by a sixth the fifth ;
The seventh followed thereupon in width
So ample now, that Juno's messenger
Entire would be too narrow to contain it.
Even so the eighth and ninth ; and every one
More slowly moved, according as it was
In number distant farther from the first.
And that one had its flame most crystalline
From which less distant was the stainless Spark,
I think because more with Its truth imbued.
My Lady, who in my anxiety
Beheld me much perplexed, said : ' From that Point
Dependent is the Heaven and nature all.
Behold that circle most conjoined to It,
And know thou, that its motion is so swift
Through burning love whereby it is spurred on.'
xxvin. 16-45.
Dante inquired why the order of these Angelic Circles is
inverse to that of the Heavens, and was answered by his
Lady that such inversion is only in respect of extension ; in
respect of virtue and influential action there is direct cor-
respondence.1
1 See also page 13.
268 Where, when> how the Angels ivere created.
And soon as to a stop her words had come,
Not otherwise does iron scintillate
When molten, than those circles scintillated.
Their coruscation all the sparks repeated,
And they so many were, their number makes
More millions than the doubling of the chess.
I heard them sing hosanna choir by choir
To the fixed Point which holds them at the Ubij-
And ever will, where they have ever been.
xxvin. 88-96.
A farther discourse, after teaching the names of the Nine
Angelic Choirs, and their division into three Triads,2
assigned the true knowledge of their hierarchic order rather
to S. Dionysius the Areopagite, the disciple of that Master
who had actually been caught up to the Third Heaven,
than to S. Gregory the Great in the points where the two
are discrepant. — And after a pause Beatrice satisfied Dante's
thirst for the knowledge of the where, the when, and the
how of the creation of the Angels.
' Not to acquire some good unto Himself,
Which is impossible, but that His splendour 3
In its resplendency may say, * Subsisto]
In His eternity outside of time,
Outside all other limits, as it pleased Him,
Into new Loves the Eternal Love unfolded.
Nor as if torpid did He lie before ;
For neither after nor before proceeded
The going forth of God upon these waters.'
xxix. 13-21.
i ' Their appointed place or whereabout. '
• See page 12.
a The Creation, which is the ' splendour ' or reflected light of God.
Of the rebel and the obedient Angels. 269
The points next set forth were the relations between
active Form or Mind and passive Matter,1 and the simul-
taneous creation of the Angels and the Heavens.8 Beatrice
then — digressing by the way to refute an opinion of the
Schools and animadvert on the profitless speculations of
Preachers — passed on to treat of the rebel Angels; of
their Fall, its effect on the Elemental World, its cause : —
and of the obedient Angels ; of their occupation, their in-
defectibility, their number, their love proportioned to their
mode of perception of the Beatific Vision.
' Nor could one reach, in counting, unto twenty
So swiftly, as a portion of these angels
Disturbed the subject of your elements.3
The rest remained, and they began this art
Which thou discernest, with so great delight
That never from their circling do they cease.
The occasion of the fall was the accursed
Presumption of that One, whom thou hast seen
By all the burden of the world constrained.
Those whom thou here beholdest modest were
To recognise themselves as of that Goodness
Which made them apt for so much understanding ;
On which account their vision was exalted
By the enlightening grace and their own merit,
So that they have a full and steadfast will
I would not have thee doubt, but certain be,
'Tis meritorious to receive this grace,4
According as the affection opens to it.
1 See page 13. a See page 14.
3 * The subject of the elements is the earth, so called as being the
lowest, or underlying the others, fire, air, and water.'
* ' The merit consists in being willing to receive this grace. '
T
2 70 The ascent into the Empyrean.
This nature doth so multiply itself
In numbers, that there never yet was speech
Nor mortal fancy that can go so far.
And if thou notest that which is revealed
By Daniel, thou wilt see that in his thousands
Number determinate is kept concealed.
1 The primal Light, that all irradiates it,
By modes as many is received therein,
As are the splendours wherewith It is mated.
Hence, inasmuch as on the act conceptive
The affection followeth, of love the sweetness
Therein diversely fervid is or tepid.1
The height behold now and the amplitude
Of the eternal Power, since It hath made
Itself so many mirrors, where 'tis broken,
One in Itself remaining as before.'
xxix. 49-66, 130-145.
But now, even as star after star pales in the effacing
sunlight, so Choir after Choir was extinguished from Dante's
view; and a crowning gaze on Beatrice's consummated
beauty revealed the accomplished ascent into the Empyrean.
From the first day that I beheld her face
In this life, to the moment of this look,
The sequence of my song has ne'er been severed ;
But now perforce this sequence must desist
From following her beauty with my verse,
As every artist at his uttermost.
Such as I leave her to a greater fame
1 The Light of God, Which irradiates all this angelic nature, is re-
ceived therein in modes corresponding in number to the Angels them-
selves, the splendours or reflected lights wherewith it is united. Hence,
inasmuch as the affection corresponds to the capacity of receiving the
Divine Light, the sweetness of love in this angelic nature is different in
degrees of warmth.
T/ie two hosts of Paradise. 271
Than any of my trumpet, which is bringing
Its arduous matter to a final close,
With voice and gesture of a perfect leader
She recommenced : * We from the greatest body
Have issued to the Heaven that is pure light ;
Light intellectual replete with love,
Love of true good replete with ecstasy,
Ecstasy that transcendeth every sweetness.
Here shalt thou see the one host and the other
Of Paradise, and one in the same aspects
Which at the final judgment thou shalt see.'
xxx. 28-45.
The two hosts are of course the Angels and the Saints :
but commentators are not unanimous in deciding which is
referred to as wearing the same aspects that will be seen at
the Last Judgment. Some think the Angels are meant : —
this view is not only based on indisputable fact, but is also
favoured by the order of the words, and by their seeming
exclusion of ' the other ' host from that which they predicate.
Others think the Saints are meant ; these can allege that
seeming need not be real exclusion, that it would have been
utterly useless to state what it never could enter into
Dante's head to doubt, and that S. Benedict 1 had actually
promised that in the Empyrean the Blessed should be seen
in their proper forms.
The Pilgrim, already by anticipation standing in the
Better Country of his desire, thus continues his narration :
Even as a sudden lightning that disperses
The visual spirits, so that it deprives
The eye of impress from the strongest objects,
1 Par. xxii. 58-63 ; page 249.
272 The River, the Flowers, and the Sparks.
Thus round about me flashed a living Light,
And left me swathed around with such a veil
Of its effulgence, that I nothing saw.
' Ever the Love Which quieteth this Heaven
Welcomes into Itself with such salute,
To make the candle ready for its flame.'
No sooner hag! within me these brief words
An entrance found, than I perceived myself
To be uplifted over my own power,
And I with vision new rekindled me,
Such that no light whatever is so pure
But that mine eyes were fortified against it.
xxx. 46-60.
This * vision new ' is as it were the nucleus of that by
which it is to be succeeded, and for which it serves to pre-
.pare the way. The Divine Light is first seen in the form of
a River, signifying Its effusion on the creatures : * the living
Sparks issuing from It are the Angels; the Flowers they
ingem, the Saints. Then in the changing of the River's
length to the Lake's roundness is figured the return of all
creatures into God as their Centre and End.2 The Rose
and the Bees we know already.
And Light I saw in fashion of a river
Fulvid with Its effulgence, 'twixt two banks
Depicted with an admirable Spring.
Out of this river issued living sparks,
And on all sides sank down into the flowers,
Like unto rubies that are set in gold ;
And then, as if inebriate with the odours,
They plunged again into the wondrous torrent,
*• 2 Venturi in loc.
The Vision assumes its ultimate form. 273
And as one entered issued forth another.
' The high desire, that now inflames and moves thee
To have intelligence of what thou seest,
Pleaseth me all the more, the more it swells.
But of this water it behoves thee drink
Before so great a thirst in thee be slaked.'
Thus said to me the sunshine of mine eyes ;
And added : ' The river and the topazes
Going in and out, and the laughing of the herbage,
Are of their truth foreshadowing prefaces ;
Not that these things are difficult in themselves,
But the deficiency is on thy side,
For yet thou hast not vision so exalted.'
There is no babe that leaps so suddenly
With face towards the milk, if he awake
Much later than his usual custom is,
As I did, that I might make better mirrors
Still of mine eyes, down stooping to the wave
Which flows that we therein be better made.
And even as the penthouse of mine eyelids
Drank of it, it forthwith appeared to me
Out of its length to be transformed to round.
Then as a folk who have been under masks
•Seem other than before, if they divest
The semblance not their own they disappeared in,
Thus into greater pomp were changed for me
The flowerets and the sparks, so that I saw
Both of the Courts of Heaven made manifest.
O splendour of God ! by means of which I saw
The lofty triumph of the realm veracious,
Give me the power to say how it I saw !
There is a Light above, which visible
Makes the Creator unto every creature,
Who only in beholding Him has peace.
274 The Lake and the Rose.
And it expands itself in circular form
To such extent, that its circumference
Would be too large a girdle for the sun.
The semblance of it is all made of rays
Reflected from the top of Primal Motion.1
Which takes therefrom vitality and power.
And as a hill in water at its base
Mirrors itself, as if to see its beauty
When affluent most in verdure and in flowers,
So, ranged aloft all round about the Light
Mirrored I saw in more ranks than a thousand
All who above there have from us returned.
And if the lowest row collect within it
So great a light, how vast the amplitude
Is of this Rose in its extremest leaves !
My vision in the vastness and the height
Lost not itself, but comprehended all
The quantity and quality of that gladness.
There near and far nor add nor take away ;
For there where God immediately doth govern,
The natural law in naught is relevant.
Into the yellow of the Rose Eternal
That spreads, and multiplies, and breathes an odour
Of praise unto the ever-vernal Sun,
As one who silent is and fain would speak,
Me Beatrice drew on, and said : ' Behold
Of the white stoles how vast the convent is !
Behold how vast the circuit of our city !
Behold our seats so filled to overflowing,
That here henceforward are few people wanting ! '
xxx. 61-132.
1 See page 12.
'
The Angelic Bees. 275
Then Beatrice indicated the throne specially prepared
for the Emperor Henry of Luxemburg, and destined to be
occupied all too soon for Dante's patriotic hopes : — re-
proved the blindness of Italy to her true good, and heavily
denounced Pope Clement v. as Henry's covert opponent.
In fashion then as of a snow-white rose
Displayed itself to me the saintly host,
Whom Christ in His own blood had made His bride.
But the other host, that flying sees and sings
The glory of Him Who doth enamour it,
And the goodness that created it so noble,
Even as a swarm of bees, that sinks in flowers
One moment, and the next returns again
To where its labour is to sweetness turned,
Sank into the great flower, that is adorned
With leaves so many, and thence reascended
To where its love abideth evermore.
Their faces had they all of living flame,
And wings of gold, and all the rest so white
No snow unto that limit doth attain.
From bench to bench, into the flower descending,
They carried something of the peace and ardour
Which by the fanning of their flanks they won.
Nor did the interposing 'twixt the flower
And that was o'er it of such plenitude
Of flying shapes impede the sight and splendour ;
Because the Light Divine so penetrates
The universe, according to its merit,
That naught can be an obstacle against it
This realm secure and full of gladsomeness,
Crowded with ancient people and with modern,
Unto one mark had all its look and love.
276 From Earth to Heaven.
0 Trinal Light, That in a single star
Sparkling upon their sight so satisfies them,
Look down upon our tempest here below !
If the barbarians, coming from some region
That every day by Helice is covered,1
Revolving with her son whom she delights in.8
Beholding Rome and all her noble works,
Were wonder-struck, what time the Lateran
Above all mortal things was eminent, —
1 who to the divine had from the human,
From time unto eternity, had come,
From Florence to a people just and sane,
With what amazement must I have been filled !
Truly between this and the joy, it was
My pleasure not to hear, and to be mute.
And as a pilgrim who delighteth him
In gazing round the temple of his vow,
And hopes some day to retell how it was,
So through the living Light my way pursuing
Directed I mine eyes o'er all the ranks.
Now up, now down, and now all round about.
Faces I saw of charity persuasive.
Embellished by His light and their own smile,
And attitudes adorned with every grace.
The general form of Paradise already
My glance had comprehended as a whole,
In no part hitherto remaining fixed,
And round I turned me with rekindled wish
My Lady to interrogate of things
Concerning which my mind was in suspense.
One thing I meant, another answered me ;
» The Great Bear. * The Little Bear.
Beatrice has resumed her throne. 277
I thought I should see Beatrice, and saw
An Old Man habited like the glorious people.
O'erflowing was he in his eyes and cheeks
With joy benign, in attitude of pity
As to a tender father is becoming.
And ' She, where is she ? ' instantly I said ;
Whence he : 'To put an end to thy desire,
Me Beatrice hath sent from mine own place.
And if thou lookest up to the third round
Of the first rank, again shalt thou behold her
Upon the throne her merits have assigned her.'
Without reply I lifted up mine eyes,
And saw her, as she made herself a crown
Reflecting from herself the eternal rays.
Not from that region which the highest thunders
Is any mortal eye so far removed,
In whatsoever sea it deepest sinks,
As there from Beatrice my sight ; but this
Was nothing unto me ; because her image
Descended not to me by medium blurred.1
* O Lady, thou in whom my hope is strong,
And who for my salvation didst endure
In Hell to leave the imprint of thy feet,
Of whatsoever things I have beheld,
As coming from thy power and from thy goodness
I recognise the virtue and the grace.
Thou from a slave hast brought me unto freedom,
By all those ways, by all the expedients,
Whereby thou hadst the power of doing it.
Preserve towards me thy magnificence,
So that this soul of mine, which thou hast healed,
Pleasing to thee be loosened from the body.'
Through no such medium as our earthly atmosphere, or any other.
278 S. Bernard of Clairvaux.
Thus I implored ; and she, so far away,
Smiled, as it seemed, and looked once more at me ;
Then unto the Eternal Fountain turned.
And said the Old Man holy : ' That thou mayst
Accomplish perfectly thy journeying,
Whereunto prayer and holy love have sent me,
Fly with thine eyes all round about this garden ;
For seeing it will discipline thy sight
Farther to mount along the Ray Divine.
And she, the Queen of Heaven, for whom I burn
Wholly with love, will grant us every grace,
Because that I her faithful Bernard am.'
XXXI. I-I02.
It need hardly be said that this is the great S. Bernard,
Abbot of Clairvaux, the singer of the Most Holy Name of
Jesus in that sweetest hymn which has kindled and ex-
pressed the love of generation after generation from his
own day to ours.
As he who peradventure from Croatia
Cometh to gaze at our Veronica,1
Who through its ancient fame is never sated,
But says in thought, the while it is displayed,
' My Lord, Christ Jesus, God of very God,
Now was Your semblance made like unto this ?'
Even such was I while gazing at the living
Charity of the man, who in this world
By contemplation tasted of that peace.
' Thou son of Grace, this jocund life,' began he,
1 The ' Very Image ' of our Blessed Lord, impressed by Him on the
handkerchief piously offered Him as He bore His Cross by a holy
woman, to whom the same name of Veronica is given, her own being
uncertain.
The Mother of God. 279
* Will not be known to thee by keeping ever
Thine eyes below here on the lowest place ;
But mark the circles to the most remote,
Until thou shalt behold enthroned the Queen
To whom this realm is subject and devoted.'
I lifted up mine eyes, and as at morn
The oriental part of the horizon
Surpasses that wherein the sun goes down,
Thus, as if going with mine eyes from vale
To mount, I saw a part in the remoteness
Surpass in splendour all the other front.
And even as there, where we await the pole l
That Phaeton drove badly, blazes more
The light, and is on either side diminished,
So likewise that pacific Oriflamme 2
Gleamed brightest in the centre, and each side
In equal measure did the flame abate.
And at that centre, with their wings expanded,
More than a thousand jubilant Angels saw I,
Each differing in effulgence and in kind.
I saw there at their sports and at their songs
A beauty smiling, which the gladness was
Within the eyes of all the other saints ;
And if I had in speaking as much wealth
As in imagining, I should not dare
To attempt the smallest part of its delight.
Bernard, as soon as he beheld mine eyes
Fixed and intent upon its fervid fervour,
His own with such affection turned to her
That it made mine more ardent to behold.
Absorbed in his delight, that contemplator
Assumed the willing office of a teacher,
The chariot of the Sun. 2 The Blessed Virgin.
280 The vertical division of the Rose :
And gave beginning to these holy words :
' The wound that Mary closed up and anointed,
She at her feet who is so beautiful,
She is the one who opened it and pierced it
Within that order which the third seats make
Is seated Rachel, lower than the other,
With Beatrice, in manner as thou seest
Sarah, Rebecca, Judith, and her who was
Ancestress of the Singer, who for dole
Of the misdeed said, " Miserere mei?
Canst thou behold from seat to seat descending
Down in gradation, as with each one's name
I through the Rose go down from leaf to leaf.
And downward from the seventh row, even as
Above the same, succeed the Hebrew women,
Dividing all the tresses of the flower j
Because, according to the view which Faith
In Christ had taken, these are the partition
By which the sacred stairways are divided.
Upon this side, where perfect is the flower
With each one of its petals, seated are
Those who believed in Christ Who was to come.
Upon the other side, where intersected
With vacant spaces are the semicircles,
Are those who looked to Christ already come.
And as, upon this side, the glorious seat
Of the Lady of Heaven, and the other seats
Below it, such a great division make,
So opposite doth that of the great John,
Who, ever holy, desert and martyrdom
Endured, and afterwards two years in Hell.
And under him thus to divide were chosen
Francis, and Benedict, and Augustine,
And down to us the rest from round to round.
the horizontal division. — Of Elect Babes. 2 8 1
Behold now the high providence divine ;
For one and other aspect of the Faith
In equal measure shall this garden fill.
And know that downward from that rank which cleaves
Midway the sequence of the two divisions,
Not by their proper merit are they seated ;
But by Another's under fixed conditions ;
For these are Spirits one and all assoiled
Before they any true election had.
Well canst thou recognise it in their faces,
And also in their voices puerile,
If thou regard them well and hearken to them.'
xxxi. 103-142. xxxn. 1-48.
S. Bernard then, in answer to a doubt he beheld in
Dante's mind, set forth the theory of the varying degrees of
grace and consequently of glory in Elect Babes : — and
further explained that infant salvation has ever depended
on the conjunction of something else with innocence ; in
the earliest ages the faith of parents, in the next period
Circumcision, since the advent of grace Baptism. He went
on:
1 Look now into the face that unto Christ
Hath most resemblance ; for its brightness only
Is able to prepare thee to see Christ.'
On her did I behold so great a gladness
Rain down, borne onward in the holy minds
Created through that altitude to fly,
That whatsoever I had seen before
Did not suspend me in such admiration,
Nor show me such similitude of God.
And the same Love that first descended there,
lAve Maria, gratia plena] singing,
282 The Angel Gabriel: the Saints of the
In front of her his wings expanded wide.
Unto the canticle divine responded
From every part the court beatified,
So that each sight became serener for it
' O holy father, who for me endurest
To be below here, leaving the sweet place
In which thou sittest by eternal lot,
Who is the Angel that with so much joy
Into the eyes is looking of our Queen,
Enamoured so that he seems made of fire ? '
Thus I again recourse had to the teaching
Of that one who delighted him in Mary
As doth the star of morning in the sun.
And he to me : ' Such gallantry and grace
As there can be in Angel and in soul,
All is in him ; and thus we fain would have it ;
Because he is the one who bore the palm
Down unto Mary, when the Son of God
To take our burden on Himself decreed.
But now come onward with thine eyes, as I
Speaking shall go, and note the great patricians
Of this most just and merciful of empires.
Those two that sit above there most enraptured,
As being very near unto Augusta,
Are as it were the two roots of this Rose.
He who upon the left is near her placed
The father is, by whose audacious taste
The human species so much bitter tastes.
Upon the right thou seest that ancient father
Of Holy Church, into whose keeping Christ
The keys committed of this lovely flower.
And he who all the evil days beheld,
Before his death, of her the beauteous bride
Who with the spear and with the nails was won.
first rank. — D antes sight purified. 283
Beside him sits, and by the other rests
That leader under whom on manna lived
The people ingrate, fickle, and stiff-necked.
Opposite Peter seest thou Anna seated,
So well content to look upon her daughter,
Her eyes she moves not while she sings Hosanna.
And opposite the eldest household father
Lucia sits, she who thy Lady moved
When to rush downward thou didst bend thy brows.
But since the moments of thy vision fly,
Here will we make full stop, as a good tailor
Who makes the gown according to his cloth,
And unto the First Love will turn our eyes,
That looking upon Him thou penetrate
As far as possible through His effulgence.
xxxii. 85-144.
The Saint invited his neophyte to join in invoking the aid
of the Blessed Virgin, and that aid was granted :
And I, who to the End of all desires
Was now approaching, even as I ought
The ardour of desire within me ended.
Bernard was beckoning unto me, and smiling,
That I should upward look ; but I already
Was of my own accord such as he wished ;
Because my sight, becoming purified,
Was entering more and more into the ray
Of the High Light which of Itself is true.
From that time forward what I saw was greater
Than our discourse, that to such vision yields,
And yields the memory unto such excess.
Even as he is who seeth in a dream,
And after dreaming the imprinted passion
Remains, and to his mind the rest returns not,
2 84 D antts prayer : — his Vision of the
Even such am I, for almost utterly
Ceases my vision, and distilleth yet
Within my heart the sweetness born of it ;
Even thus the snow is in the sun unsealed,
Even thus upon the wind in the light leaves
Were the soothsayings of the Sibyl lost.1
0 Light Supreme, that dost so far uplift Thee
From the conceits of mortals, to my mind
Of what Thou didst appear re-lend a little,
And make my tongue of so great puissance,
That but a single sparkle of Thy glory
It may bequeath unto the future people ;
For by returning to my memory somewhat,
And by a little sounding in these verses,
More of Thy victory shall be conceived !
1 think the keenness of the living Ray
Which I endured would have bewildered me,
If but mine eyes had been averted from It ; 2
"And I remember that I was more bold
On this account to bear, so that I joined
My aspect with the Glory Infinite.
xxxni. 46-81.
And then, confessing himself all impotent to tell, Dante
yet tells as best he may of his consummated grace in the
crowning Vision of God Triune, God Incarnate :
Not because more than one unmingled semblance
Was in the living Light on Which I looked,
1 The Cumsean Sibyl wrote her oracles on leaves. When she opened
the door of her cavern, these were blown about by the wind ; and she
never cared to re-arrange them.
2 Unlike the solar ray, this Divine Ray strengthened the fixed eye to
gaze on it.
Blessed Trinity and the Word Incarnate. 285
For It is always what It was before ;
But through the sight, that fortified itself
In me by looking, one appearance only
To me was ever changing as I changed.
Within the deep and luminous subsistence
Of the High Light appeared to me Three Circles,
Of threefold colour and of one dimension,
And by the Second seemed the First reflected
As Iris is by Iris, and the Third
Seemed Fire that equally from Both is breathed.
O how all speech is feeble and falls short
Of my conceit, and this to what I saw
Is such, 'tis not enough to call it little !
O Light Eterne, sole in Thyself that dwellest,
Sole knowest Thyself, and, known unto Thyself
And knowing, lovest and smilest on Thyself !
That Circulation,1 Which being thus conceived
Appeared in Thee as a reflected Light,
When somewhat contemplated by mine eyes,
Within Itself, of Its own very colour
Seemed to me painted with our effigy,2
Wherefore my sight was all absorbed therein.
As the geometrician, who endeavours
To square the circle, and discovers not,
By taking thought, the principle he wants,
Even such was I at that new apparition ;
I wished to see how the Image to the Circle
Conformed Itself, and how It there finds place i
But my own wings were not enough for this,
Had it not been that then my mind there smote
A flash of lightning, wherein came its wish.
1 The Second Person of the Adorable Trinity.
* The Human Nature of our Blessed Lord.
286 The Vision ceases : Grace remains.
Here vigour failed the lofty fantasy :
But now was turning my desire and will,
Even as a wheel that equally is moved,
The Love Which moves the sun and the other stars.
xxxin. 109-145.
FINIS.
INDEX I.
EXTRACTS FROM THE DIVINA COMMEDIA.
Inferno. PAGF
1. 61-93 Virgil appears . . . • . . . 32
112-136 Virgil proposes the Pilgrimage . . . 34
113-117 is also quoted . . . . . . 4
II. 43-142 Of the descent of Beatrice to Limbo . . 35
III. 1-9 Inscription over Hell Gate . . . 43
22-30 Wailings in Ante-Hell . . . . 64
95, 96 The Pass-word through Hell . . . 65
IV. 31-63 Of the Souls now and sometime in Limbo . ib.
79-105 The School of Poets . . . • '. 66
V. n, 12 Minos passing sentence . . • . 47
VII. 61-96 Of Fortune 69
VIII. 31-63 Filippo Argenti ..... 71
IX. 34-105 Dis held and forced . ... . 73
XX. 25-30 Dante's tears over the Diviners ... 82
XXI. 79-96 Eviltail's deceit . ' . . . . 83
106-117 The same ...... 84
124-126 The same ... . . . ib.
XXII. 13-15 The demon escort ib.
XXVI. 19-24 Dante takes warning against abuse of intellect 87
90-142 Ulysses' last voyage 15
XXVII. 67-132 Guido di Montefeltro .... 88
XXVIII. 112-142 Bertrandde Born 90
XXIX, 1-36 Geri del Bello 91
288 Index.
Inferno. PAGE
XXX. 130-148 Dante reproved by Virgil ... 94
XXXII. 70-81 Bocca degli Abati 95
82-111 The same 96
XXXIII. 1-78 Count Ugolino 97
100-117 Ptolemaea. Frate Alberigo . . . 100
148-150 Dante deceives Frate Alberigo . . . 101
XXXIV. 1-27 Lucifer seen ib.
28-67 Lucifer described 102
70-105 Earth's centre passed .... 104
119-126 Of Lucifer's Fall 105
127-139 The ascent from Hell 106
Purgatorio.
I. 13-136 Cato the Warden 121
II. 10-51 The Angel's boat 125
III. 7-9 Virgil's remorse 127
22-45 Virgil casts no shadow .... ib.
118-145 Manfred of Naples . . . . . 129
IV. 25-33 The steep ascent 130
121-139 Belacqua 131
V. i -2 1 ' Let people talk ' ib.
91-129 Buonconte di Montefeltro .... 132
VI. 25-48 Of Prayer and its effect . . . . 134
VII. 64-84 The Dell of Princes 135
121-123 Of Degeneracy 136
VIII. 1-39 The two Guardian Angels . . . 137
85-108 The Serpent- Adversary . . . . 138
IX. 43-114 The Gate of S. Peter .... 139
115-132 The Gate opened 142
X. 28-45 The Sculptures of Humility . . . ib.
94-1 1 1 The Penitents for Pride .... 143
112-139 The same 144
Index. 289
Purgatorio. PAGB
XI. 1-24 Their prayer ,,„,.. 145
25-36 Their suffering .... 146
73-108 Oderisi d'Agobbio . . . . . 147
XII. 1-72 The Sculptures of Pride .... 149
88-90 The liberating Angel . .. . . 151
112-126 The first P effaced ...•'. . ib.
XIII. 124-150 Sapia . ,. ..... . --.,. .. . . 153
XIV. 86, 87 Of the root of Envy . V . r. . 154
127-129 The departure from Terrace n. . . ib.
143-151 Reproof of Envy . . - . . . ib.
XV. 44-93 Of the remedy for Envy. — Entrance on
Terrace in. . . '. . . 155
130-132 ' Learn Meekness ' . . . . . 156
139-145 The smoke of Terrace in. . . . 157
XVI. 1-15 Dante traversing the smoke . . . ib.
16-24 The Penitents for Anger . . • . 158
64-105 Of Free-will and of Government • . ib.
XVII. 91-139 How Love may be the seed of Sin . . 160
XIX. 58-63 The Siren baffled . . . . . 163
91-145 Pope Adrian v. . . . « . ib.
XX. 1-9 The walk along Terrace v. . 165
124-151 The earthquake and the hymn . . . ib.
XXI. 1-24 The released Shade 1 66
25-81 Of the religion of the Mountain . . 167
94-136 Virgil made known to Statius . . . 169
XXII. 1-6 The fifth P effaced . "." - . . . 170
130-154 The first Tree of emptiness . . . 172
XXIII. 1-24 The Penitents for Gluttony . . . ib.
55-133 Dante converses with Forese . . . 173
XXV. 109-129 The Penitents for Lasciviousness . . 176
XXVII. i -12 That all must pass through the Fire . . 177
2go Index.
Purgatorio. PAGB
XXVII. 13-18 Dante shrinks from the Fire . . . 178
19-63 Dante passes through tb~ Fire . . . ib.
88-108 Dante's dream of Leah and Rachel . . 180
109-142 Dante enfranchised 181
XXVIIL 1-42 The Wood of Eden 183
43-81 Matilda 185
121-148 Of the Rivers of Eden and the Golden Age 187
XXIX. 1-30 The burst of light and melody 188
XXX. 13-54 Beatrice descends. Virgil has vanished . 191
55-145 Beatrice accuses Dante to the Angels . 192
XXXI. 1-90 Beatrice reproaches Dante ... 195
XXXIII. 103-145 Lethe and Eunoe 199
Paradise.
!• 43'63 The gaze at the Sun . . . . 208
64-105 The music of the Spheres .... ib
121-142 How Man, like Fire, tends upward . . 210
II. 19-48 The Moon 211
III. 7-51 The Blessed in the Moon. Piccarda de'
Donati 212
52-108 How each is content with his own place in
Heaven. Piccarda's history . . 214
109-120 Of the Empress Constance . . . 216
121-130 Piccarda vanishes ib,
IV. 28-48 Of the true abode of the Blessed . . 217
67-138 Of Violence. Of Will absolute and rela-
tive. Of Truth and Doubt . . 218
V. 19-33 Of Free-will and Vows . . . . 220
55-63 Of Substitution in Vows .... 221
VI. 82-93 Of the Roman Eagle under Tiberius and
TitUS 222
112-142 Of the Blessed in Mercury. Of Romeo . 223
Index.
291
Paradiso. PAGE
VII. 19-120 Of the Incarnation and the Cross, the Fall
and Redemption .... 225
VIII. 40-57 Charles Martel, one of the Blessed in Venus 228
X. 34-75 The Blessed in the Sun .... 230
109-114 Of Solomon 232
121-129 OfBoethius . ." . . . . ib.
XIII. 130-142 ' Judge nothing before the time ' . . 233
XIV. ID-HI Of the Saints after the Resurrection.— The
Blessed in Mars «... ib.
XV. 85-148 Cacciaguida reasons of Florence and of
himself 237
XVII. 46-69 Cacciaguida predicts Dante's exile . . 239
55-63 is also quoted 30
94-142 Cacciaguida urges Dante to boldness of
speech 240
XVIII. 52-69 The ascent to Jupiter .... 242
XIX, 22-114 Of Divine Justice towards the Heathen . 243
89, 90 is also quoted . . . . . . 247
XXI. 79-102 S. Peter Damian treats of Election . . 248
XXII. 52-72 S. Benedict reasons of the Empyrean . 249
97-111 The ascent into the Starry Heaven . . 250
112-154 Looking down upon the Earth . . ib.
151-153 is also quoted , 30
XXIII. 1-75 The Triumph of Christ .... 252
XXIV. 34-154 The Confession of Faith to S. Peter . , 254
XXV. i- 12 The Poet's laurel crown .... 258
28-48 S. James questions Dante of Hope . . 259
49-99 The Confession of Hope to S. James . . 260
XXVI. 16-69 The Confession of Love to S. John . . 262
82-142 Adam sets forth four points concerning
himself .,,,,, 264
Index. t
Paradiso.
PAGE
XXVII.
109-114 Of the Primum Mobile ....
266
XXVIII.
16-45 The Nine Angelic Circles
ib.
88-96 The Angelic coruscation ....
268
XXIX.
13-21 Of where, when, how the Angels were
created
ib.
49-66 Of the rebel and the obedient Angels
269
130-145 Of the number and bliss of the obedient
Angels
270
XXX.
ib.
46-60 The salute of Love
271
61-132 The progressive vision of Beatitude .
272
XXXI.
1-102 The Rose and the Bees. S. Bernard
275
103-142 The Blessed Virgin on her throne
278
XXXII.
1-48 Of the divisions of the Rose
279
85-144 Of the Angel Gabriel and the Patrician
Saints ..,.,,
281
XXXIII.
46-81 Dante prepared for the crowning Vision .
283
109-145 The Vision of the Blessed Trinity and the
Word Incarnate .....
284
INDEX II.
QUOTATIONS FROM DANTE'S MINOR WORKS.
Vita Nttova. PAD*
II. Dante's first sight of Beatrice . . . 18
III. Beatrice salutes Dante .... 20
XXII. Death of Folco Portinari . . . . 21
XXIX. Death of Beatrice ib.
XL. ' Adversary of Reason ' .... ib.
' Strong imagination ' of Beatrice . . 22
XLIIL Purpose to write of Beatrice ... 25
Coiwito.
Trattato I. II A property of Envy 115
II. 9 The worst of Bestialisms . . . 48
13 Dante consoled by Philosophy . » . 22
14 The Planet Mercury ..... 203
1 6 Praise of Philosophy . . . . 22
Canzone II. 4 Philosophy's Fire-rain . - -- . . . 55
Trattato III. 12 Philosophy denned . T . . . ib.
15 The Eyes and Smile of Wisdom ... 207
Philosophy's Fire-rain interpreted . . 55
IV. 17 Virtue lies in the mean . • • • 52
28 < Most noble Latin ' 87
294 Index.
De Monarchia. PAGB
III. 15 The two Beatitudes 38
Epistles.
To his Florentine Friend Dante rejects the Amnesty 29
To Can Grande della Scala. The subject of the Corn-
media . , 112
Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty,
at the Edinburgh University Press.
THE SILVER LIBRARY.
CROWN 8vo. 3*. 6d. EACH VOLUME.
Arnold's (Sir Edwin) Seas and Lands. With 71 Illustra-
tions. 3-r. 6d.
Baker's (Sir S. W.) Eight Years in Ceylon. With 6 Illus-
trations. 3-r. 6d.
Baker's (Sir S. W.) Rifle and Hound in Ceylon. With 6
Illustrations. 3*. 6d.
Baring-Gould's (Rev. S.) Curious Myths of the Middle
Ages. y. 6d.
Baring-Gould's (Rev. S.) Origin and Development of
Religious Belief. 2 vols. 3*. 6d. each.
Brassey's (Lady) A Voyage in the ' Sunbeam.' With 66
Illustrations. $s. 6d.
Clodd's (E.) Story of Creation : a Plain Account of Evolu-
tion. With 77 Illustrations. 3*. 6d.
Conybeare (Rev. W. J.) and Howson's (Very Rev. J. S.)
Life and Epistles of St. Paul. With 46 Illustrations. 3-r. 6d.
Bengali's (L.) Beggars All. 3-$-. 6d.
Doyle's (A. Conan) Micah Clarke. A Tale of Monmouth's
Rebellion. 3-r. 6d.
Doyle's (A. Conan) The Captain of the Polestar, and other
Tales. 35. 6d.
Froude's (J. A.) Short Studies on Great Subjects. 4 vols
35. 6d. each.
Froude's (J. A.) Caesar: a Sketch. $s. 6d.
Froude's ( J. A.) Thomas Carlyle : a History of his Life.
1795-1835. 2 vols. 7-y.
1834-1881. 2 vols. 75.
LONDON AND NEW YORK : LONGMANS, GREEN & CO.
THE SILVER LIBRARY.
Froude's (J. A.) The Two Chiefs of Dunboy : an Irish
Romance of the Last Century. 35. 6d.
Froude's (J. A.) The History of England, from the Fall of
Wolsey to the Defeat of the Spanish Armada. 12 vols. 3$. 6d.
each.
Gleig's (Rev. G. R.) Life of the Duke of Wellington. With
Portrait. 3*. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) She : A History of Adventure. With 32
Illustrations. 3^. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Allan Quatermain. With 20 Illustrations.
3J. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Colonel Quaritch, V.C. : a Tale of
Country Life. 35. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Cleopatra. With 29 Illustrations. 3$. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Eric Brighteyes. With 51 Illustrations.
3s. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Beatrice. $s. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Allan's Wife, and other Tales. With 34
Illustrations. 3-r. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) The Witch's Head. With Illustrations.
3J. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Mr. Meeson's Will. With 18 Illustra-
tions. 3s. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Dawn. With Illustrations. 35-. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) The World's Desire. By H. RIDER
HAGGARD and ANDREW LANG. With 27 Illustrations. 3*. 6d.
Harte's (Bret) In the Carquinez Woods and other Stories.
35. 6d.
Helmholtz's (Hermann von) Popular Lectures on Scientific
Subjects. With 68 Illustrations. 2 vols. $s. 6d. each.
LONDON AND NEW YORK : LONGMANS, GREEN & CO.
THE SILVER LIBRARY.
Hewitt's (W.) Visits to Remarkable Places. With 80
Illustrations. 35. 6d.
Jefferies' (R.) The Story of My Heart : My Autobiography.
With Portrait. 3*. 6d.
Jefferies' (R.) Field and Hedgerow. Last Essays of. With
Portrait. 3-r. 6d.
Jefferies' (R.) Red Deer. With 17 Illustrations. $s. 6d.
Jefferies' (R.) Wood Magic : a Fable. With Frontispiece
and Vignette by E. V. B. 3*. 6d.
Jefferies' (R.) The Toilers of the Field. With Portrait
from the Bust in Salisbury Cathedral. 3-r. 6d.
Knight's (E. F.) The Cruise of the ' Alerte': the Narrative
of a Search for Treasure on the Desert Island of Trinidad. With
2 Maps and 23 Illustrations. 35. 6d.
Lang's (A.) Custom and Myth: Studies of Early Usage
and Belief. 35. 6d.
Lees (J. A.) and Clutterbuck's (W. J.) B. C. 1887, A
Ramble in British Columbia. With Maps and 75 Illustrations.
3,-. 6d.
Macaulay's (Lord), Essays and Lays of Ancient Rome.
With Portrait and Illustrations. 3^. 6d.
Macleod's (H. D.) The Elements of Banking. 3^. 6d.
Marshman's (J. C.) Memoirs of Sir Henry Havelock.
3J. 6d.
Max Miiller's (F.) India, what can it teach us? 3*. 6d.
Max Miiller's (F.) Introduction to the Science of Religion.
3J. 6d.
Merivale's (Dean) History of the Romans under the
Empire. 8 vols. 3.5-. 6d. each.
Mill's (J. S.) Principles of Political Economy. 3^. 6d.
Mill's (J. S.) System of Logic, y *>*•
LONDON AND NEW YORK : LONGMANS, GREEN & CO.
THE SILVER LIBRARY.
Milner's (Geo.) Country Pleasures : the Chronicle of a
Year chiefly in a Garden. 3.5-. 6d.
Phillipps-Wolley's (0.) Snap: a Legend of the Lone
Mountain. With 13 Illustrations. 35. 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) The Orbs Around us: Essays on the
Moon and Planets, Meteors and Comets, the Sun and Coloured
Pairs of Suns. 3-y. 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) The Expanse of Heaven : Essays on the
Wonders of the Firmament. 35; 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) Other Worlds than Ours. 3*. 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) Rough Ways made Smooth. $s. 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) Pleasant Ways in Science. $s. 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) Myths and Marvels of Astronomy. 3$. 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) Nature Studies. 3J-. 6d.
Rossetti's (Maria F.) A Shadow of Dante : being an Essay
towards studying Himself, his World and his Pilgrimage. With
Illustrations by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI. 3*. 6d.
Smith (R. Bosworth) Carthage and the Carthaginians.
With Maps, Plans, etc. 3^. 6d.
Stanley's (Bishop) Familiar History of Birds. With 160
Illustrations. 3^. 6d.
Stevenson (R. L.) and Osbourne's (LI.) The Wrong Box,
3s. 6d.
Weyman's (Stanley) The House of the Wolf : a Romance.
3J. 6d.
Wood's (Rev. J. G.) Petland Revisited. With 33 Illustra-
tions. 3-r. 6d.
Wood's (Rev. J. G.) Strange Dwellings. With 60 Illustra-
tions. 35. 6d.
Wood's (Rev. J. G.) Out of Doors, n Illustrations. 31. 6d.
LONDON AND NEW YORK : LONGMANS, GREEN & CO.
MESSRS. LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO.'S
CLASSIFIED CATALOGUE
OF
WORKS IN GENERAL LITERATURE.
History, Politics, Polity, Political Memoirs, &c.
Abbott.— A HISTORY OF GREKCE. By
EVELYN ABBOTT, M.A., LL.D.
Part I.— From the Earliest Times to the
Ionian Revolt. Crown 8vo., J.QS. 6d.
Part IL— 500-445 B.C. Cr. 8vo., los. 6d.
Acland and Ransome.— A HAND-
BOOK IN OUTLINE OF THE POLITICAL
H ISTORY OF ENGLAND TO 1894. Chro-
nologically Arranged. By A. H. DYKE
ACLAND, M.P., and CYRIL RANSOME,
M.A. Cr. 8vo., 6s.
ANNUAL REGISTER (THE). A Re-
view of Public Events at Home and
Abroad, for the year 1894. 8vo., i8j.
Volumes of the ANNUAL REGISTER for
the years 1863-1893 can still be had.
i8j. each.
Armstrong.— ELIZABETH FARNESE ;
The Termagant of Spain. By EDWARD
ARMSTRONG, M.A. 8vo., i6s.
Arnold.— Works by T. ARNOLD, D.D.,
formerly Head Master of Rugby School.
INTRODUCTORY LF.CTURES ON MODERN
HISTORY. 8vo., 73. 6d.
MISCELLANEOUS WORKS. 8vo., js. 6d.
Bagwell.— IRELAND UNDER THE
TUDORS. By RICHARD BAGWELL,
LL.D. 3 vols. Vols. I. and II. From
the first Invasion of the Northmen to the
year 1578. 8vo., 32*. Vol. III. 1578-
1603. 8vo., i8s.
Ball.— HISTORICAL REVIEW OF THE
LEGISLATIVE SYSTEMS OPERATIVE IN
IRELAND, from the Invasion of Henry
the Second to the Union (1172-1800).
By the Rt. Hon. J. T. BALL. 8vo., 6s.
Besant. — THE HISTORY OF LONDON.
By WALTER BESANT. With 74 Illus-
trations. Crown 8vo., is. gd. Or bound
as a School Prize Book, 2J. 6d.
Brassey. — PAPERS AND ADDRESSES.
By LORD BRASSEY.
NAVAL AND MARITIME, 1872-1893.
2 vols. Crown 8vo. , ios.
MERCANTILE MARINE AND NAVIGA-
TION, 1871-1894. Crown 8vo. , 5.1.
POLITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS, 1861-
1894. Crown 8vo., 55.
Bright.— A H ISTORY OF ENGLAND. By
the Rev. J. FRANCK BRIGHT, D.D.,
Period I. MEDIEVAL MONARCHY:
A.D. 449 to 1485. Crown 8vo., 4^. 6d.
Period II. PERSONAL MONARCHY:
1485 to 1688. Crown 8vo. , 5J.
Period III. CONSTITUTIONAL MON-
ARCHY: 168910 1837. Cr.8vo.,7J. 6J,
Period IV. THE GROWTH OF DEMO-
CRACY: 1837 to 1880. Cr. 8vo., dr.
Buckle.— HISTORY OF CIVILISATION IN
ENGLAND AND FRANCE, SPAIN AND
SCOTLAND. By HENRY THOMAS
BUCKLE. 3 vols. Crown 8vo., 24*.
Burke.— A HISTORY OF SPAIN, from
the Earliest Times to the Death of
Ferdinand the Catholic. By ULICK
RALPH BURKE, M.A. 2 vols. 8vo.,
32S.
Chesney.— INDIAN POLITY: a View of
the System of Administration in India.
By General Sir GEORGE CHESNKY,
K.C.B., M.P. With Map showing all
the Administrative Divisions of British
India. 8vo. 2U.
Creighton.— HISTORY OF THE PAPACY
DURING THE REFORMATION. By
MANDELL CREIGHTON, D.D., LL.D.,
Bishop of Peterborough. Vols. I. and
II., 1378-1464, 325. Vols. III. and IV.,
146-1-1518., 24J. Vol. V., 1517-1527,
8vo., i5-f.
Cuningham.— A SCHEME FOR IM-
PERIAL FEDERATION : a Senate for the
Empire. By GRANVILLE C. CUNING-
HAM, of Montreal, Canada. Cr. 8vo.,
y. 6d.
Curzon.— PERSIA AND THE PERSIAN
QUESTION. By the HON. GEORGE
N. CURZON, M.P. With 9 Maps, 96
Illustrations, Appendices, and an Index.
2 vols. 8vo. , 425.
LONGMANS &• CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
History, Politics, Polity, Political Memoirs, &c.— continued.
De Tocqueville. — DEMOCRACY IN
AMERICA. By ALEXIS DE TOCQUE-
VILLE. 2 vols. Crown 8vo., i6j.
Dickinson.— THE DEVELOPMENT OF
PARLIAMENT DURING THE NINE-
TEENTH CENTURY. By G. LOWES
DICKINSON, M.A. 8vo. js. 6d.
Ewald. — THE HISTORY OF ISRAEL. By
HEINRICH EWALD, Professor in the
University of Gottingen. 8 vols. 8vo.,
Vols. I. and II., 24^. Vols. III. and IV.,
2U. Vol. V..I8.T. Vol. VI.,i6j. Vol.
VII., 2U. Vol. VIII. , i8s.
Fitzp at rick.— SECRET SERVICE
UNDKR PITT. By W. J. FITZPATRICK,
F.S.A., Author of 'Correspondence of
Daniel O'Connell'. 8vo., js. 6d.
Froude. — Works by JAMES A. FROUDE.
THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, from the
Fall of Wolsey to the Defeat of the
Spanish Armada, 12 vols. Cr. 8vo. ,
3-y. 6d. each.
THE DIVORCE OF CATHERINE OF ARA-
GON : the Story as told by the Imperial
Ambassadors resident at the Court of
Henry VIII. Crown 8vo., 6s.
THE SPANISH STORY OF THE ARMADA,
and other Essays. Cr. 8vo. , y. 6d.
THE ENGLISH IN IRELAND IN THE
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
Cabinet Edition. 3 vols. Cr. 8vo. , i8s.
Silver Library Edition. 3 vols. Cr.
8vo. , ioj. 6d.
ENGLISH SEAMEN IN THE SIXTEENTH
CENTURY. Lectures delivered at
Oxford, 1893-94. Crown 8vo., 6s.
SHORT STUDIES ON GREAT SUBJECTS.
4 vols. Cr. 8vo., 3^. 6d. each.
CESAR : a Sketch. Cr. 8vo. , 3*. 6d.
Gardiner.— Works by SAMUEL RAW-
SON GARDINER, D.C.L., LL.D.
HISTORY OF ENGLAND, from the Ac-
ce^sion of James I. to the Outbreak of
the Civil War, 1603-1642. 10 vols.
Crown 8vo. , 6s. each.
HISTORY OF THE GREAT CIVIL WAR,
1642-1649. 4 vols. Cr. 8vo., 6s. each.
HISTORY OF THE COMMONWEALTH
AND THE PROTECTORATE, 1649-1660.
Vol. I., 1649-1651. With 14 Maps.
8vo., sis.
Gardiner.— Works by SAMUEL RAW-
SON GARDINER, D.C.L., LL.D.,
Edinburgh — continued.
THE STUDENT'S HISTORYOF ENGLAND,
With 378 Illustrations. Cr. 8vo., \zs.
Also in Three Volumes, price 4^. each.
Vol. I. B.C. 55— A.D. 1509. With 173
Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 45.
Vol. II. 1509-1689. With 96 Illustra-
tions. Crown 8vo. 4^.
Vol. III. 1689-1885. With 109 Illus-
trations. Crown 8vo. 4^.
Greville.— A JOURNAL OF THE REIGNS
OF KING GEORGE IV., KING WILLIAM
IV., AND QUEEN VICTORIA. By
CHARLES C. F. GREVILLE, formerly
Clerk of the Council. 8 vols. Crown
8vo., 6s. each.
Hearn.— THE GOVERNMENT OF ENG-
LAND : its Structure and its Development
By W. EDWARD HEARN. 8vo. , i6s.
Herbert. — THE DEFENCE OF PLEVNA,
1877. Written by One who took Part
in it. By WILLIAM V. HERBERT. With
Maps. 8vo., i8r.
Historic Towns.— Edited by E. A.
FREEMAN, D.C.L., and Rev. WILLIAM
HUNT, M.A. With Maps and Plans.
Crown 8vo., 3^. 6d. each.
BRISTOL. By the Rev. W. HUNT.
CARLISLE. By MANDELL CREIGHTON,
D. D. , Bishop of Peterborough.
CINQUE PORTS. By MONTAGU BUR-
ROWS.
COLCHESTER. By Rev. E. L. CUTTS.
EXETER. By E. A. FREEMAN.
LONDON. By Rev. W. J. LOFTIE.
OXFORD. By Rev. C. W. BOASE.
WINCHESTER. By Rev. G. W. KIT-
CHIN, D.D.
YORK. By Rev. JAMES RAINE.
NEW YORK. By THEODORE ROOSEVELT
BOSTON i U.S.) By HENRY CABC
LODGE.
Joyce.— A SHORT HISTORYOF IRELANI
from the Earliest Times to 1608.
P. W. JOYCE, LL.D. Crown 8vo.~,
i os. 6d.
Lang.— ST. ANDREWS. By ANDREW
LANG. With 8 Plates and 24 Illustra-
tions in the Text, by T. HODGE. 8vo.,
155. net.
LONGMANS &> CO. 'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
History, Politics, Polity, Political Memoirs, &c.— continued.
Lecky.— Works by WILLIAM EDWARD
HARTPOLE LECKY, M.P.
HISTORY OF ENGLAND IN THE EIGH-
TEENTH CENTURY.
Library Edition. 8 vols. 8vo., £7 qs.
Cabinet Edition. ENGLAND. 7 vols.
Cr. 8vo., 6s. each. IRELAND. 5
vols. Crown 8vo., 6s. each.
HISTORY OF EUROPEAN MORALS FROM
AUGUSTUS TO CHARLEMAGNE. 2
vols. Crown 8vo. , i6s.
HISTORY OF THE RISE AND INFLUENCE
OF THE SPIRIT OF RATIONALISM IN
EUROPE. 2 vols. Crown 8vo. , i6s.
THE EMPIRE : its Value and its Growth.
An Inaugural Address delivered at the
Imperial Institute, November 20, 1893.
Crown 8vo., u. 6d.
Macaulay.— Works by LORD MAC-
AULAY.
COMPLETE WORKS.
Cabinet Edition. 16 vols. Post 8vo. ,
Library Edition. 8 vols. 8v
HISTORY OF ENGLAND FROM THE AC-
CESSION OF JAMES THE SECOND.
Popular Edition. 2 vols. Cr. 8vo. , 5^.
Student's Edit. 2 vols. Cr. 8vo. , izs.
People 's Edition. 4 vols. Cr. 8vo. ,i6j.
Cabinet Edition. 8 vols. Post 8vo., 48.5.
Library Edition. 5 vols. 8vo., ^4.
CRITICAL AND HISTORICAL ESSAYS,
WITH LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME, in i
volume.
Popular Edition. Crown 8vo., 2J. 6d.
Authorised Edition. Crown 8vo.,
zs. 6d. , or y. 6d. , gilt edges.
Silver Library Edition. Crown 8vo.,
35. 6d.
CRITICAL AND HISTORICAL ESSAYS.
Student's Edition, i vol. Cr. 8vo., 6s.
People's Edition. 2 vols. Cr. 8vo., 8.5.
Trevelyan Edit. 2 vols. Cr. 8vo., gs.
Cabinet Edition. 4 vols. Post8vo.,24J.
Library Edition. 3 vols. 8vo. , 36^.
ESSAYS which may be had separately
price 6d. each sewed, is. e ach cloth.
Addison and Wai-
pole.
Frederick the Great.
I x>rd Bacon.
Croker's Boswell's
Johnson.
Hallam's Constitu-
tional History.
Warren Hastings
(3^. swd., 6d. cl.).
Lord Clive.
The Earl of Chat
ham(Two Essays)
Ranke and Glad
stone.
Milton and Machia
velli.
Lord Byron, and The
Comic Dramatist
of the Restoration
Macaulay.— Works by LORD MAC-
AULAY. — continued.
MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS AND
SPEECHES.
Popular Edition. Cr. 8vo., 2s. 6d.
Cabinet Edition. Including Indian
Penal Code, Lays of Ancient Rome,
and Miscellaneous Poems. 4 vols.
Post 8vo. , 2+r.
SELECTIONS FROM THE WRITINGS OF
LORD MACAULAY. Edited, with
Occasional Notes, by the Right Hon.
Sir G. O. Trevelyan, Bart. Crown
8vo., 6s.
ilay. — THE CONSTITUTIONAL HISTORY
OF ENGLAND since the Accession of
George I II. 1760-1870. By Sir THOMAS
ERSKINE MAY, K.C.B. (Lord Farn-
borough). 3 vols. Crown 8vo., 185.
Merivale.— Works by the Very Rev.
CHARLES MERIVALE, late Dean of Ely.
HISTORY OF THE ROMANS UNDER THE
EMPIRE.
Cabinet Edition. 8 vols. Cr. 8vo. , 48*.
Stiver Library Edition. 8 vols. Cr.
8vo., y. 6d. each.
THE FALL OF THE ROMAN REPUBLIC:
a Short History of the Last Century
of the Commonwealth. i2mo. , js. 6d.
Montague. — THE ELEMENTS OF ENG-
LISH CONSTITUTIONAL HISTORY. By
F. C. MONTAGUE, M. A. Cr. 8vo. , 3^. 6rf.
Richman.— APPENZELL : Pure Demo-
cracy and Pastoral Life in Inner-
Rhoden. A Swiss Study. By IRVING-
B. RICHMAN, Consul-General of the
United States to Switzerland. With
Maps. Crown 8vo., 5*.
Seebohm. — Works by FREDERIC
SEEBOHM.
THE ENGLISH VILLAGE COMMUNITY
Examined in its Relations to the
Manorial and Tribal Systems, &c.
With 13 Maps and Plates. 8vo., 161.
THE TRIBAL SYSTEM IN WALES : being
Part of an Inquiry into the Structure
and Methods of Tribal Society. With
3 Maps. 8vo., 12s.
LONGMANS &• CO:S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
History, Politics, Polity, Political Memoirs, fa.— continued.
Sharpe. — LONDON AND THE KINGDOM : Todd. — PARLIAMENTARY GOVERNMENT
a History derived mainly from the
Archives at Guildhall in the custody of
the Corporation of the City of London.
By REGINALD R. SHARPE, D.C.L., Re-
cords Clerk in the Office of the Town
Clerk of the City of London. 3 vols.
8vo. IQS. 6d. each.
She p par d. — MEMORIALS OF ST.
JAMES'S PALACE. By the Rev.
EDGAR SHEPPARD, M.A., Sub-Dean of
the Chapels Royal. With 41 full-page
Plates (8 photo-intaglio), and 32 Illustra-
tions in the Text. 2 Vols. 8vo, 36*. net.
Smith. — CARTHAGE AND THE CARTHA-
GINIANS. By R. BOSWORTH SMITH,
M.A., Assistant Master in Harrow
School. With Maps, Plans, &c. Cr.
8vo. , 3.1. 6d.
Stephens.— A HISTORY OF THE FRENCH
REVOLUTION. By H. MORSE STEPHENS
Balliol College, Oxford. 3 vols. 8vo
Vols. I. and II., i8.r. each.
Stubbs.— HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSITY
OF DUBLIN, from its Foundation to the
End of the Eighteenth Century. By J
W. STUBBS. 8vo., 125. 6d.
Sutherland.— THE HISTORY o:
AUSTRALIA AND NEW ZEALAND, from
1606 to 1890. By ALEXANDER SUTHER
LAND, M.A., and GEORGE SUTHER
LAND, M.A. Crown 8vo., zs. 6d.
IN THE BRITISH COLONIES. ByALPHEUS
TODD, LL.D. 8vo., 30*. net.
Wakeman and Has sail.— ESSAYS
INTRODUCTORY TO THE STUDY OF
ENGLISH CONSTITUTIONAL HISTORY.
Edited by HENRY OFFLEY WAKEMAN,
M.A., and ARTHUR HASSALL, M.A.
Crown 8vo., 6s.
Walpole.— Works by SPENCER WAL-
POLE.
HISTORY OF ENGLAND FROM THE CON-
CLUSION OF THE GREAT WAR IN
1815 TO 1858. 6 vols. Cr. 8vo.,6s. each.
THE LAND OF HOME RULE : being an
Account of the History and Institu-
tions of the Isle of Man. Cr. 8vo. , 6s.
Wood-Martin.— PAGAN IRELAND : an
Archaeological Sketch. A Handbook of
Irish Pre-Christian Antiquities. By W.
G. WOOD-MARTIN, M.R.I. A. 412
Illustrations. 8vo., 15*.
Wylie. — HISTORY OF ENGLAND UNDER
HENRY IV. By JAMES HAMILTON
WYLIE, M.A., one of H. M. Inspectors
of Schools. 3 vols. Crown 8vo. Vol.
1404, ioj. 6d. Vol. II. 155.
155. Vol. IV. [/» the press.
!•• J399-1
Vol. III.
Biography, Personal Memoirs, &c.
FHR LIFE AND LETTERS Erasmus.— LIFE /
Armstrong. — THE LIFE AND LETTERS
OF EDMUND J. ARMSTRONG. Edited
by G. F. ARMSTRONG. Fcp. 8vo., js. 6d.
Bacon. — LETTERS AND LIFE OF
FRANCIS BACON, INCLUDING ALL HIS
OCCASIONAL WORKS. Edited by J.
SPEDDING. 7 vols. 8vo. , £4 4*.
Bagehot. — BIOGRAPHICAL STUDIES.
By WALTER BAGEHOT. Cr. 8vo. , 3*. 6d.
Blackwell.— PIONEER WORK IN OPEN-
ING THE MEDICAL PROFESSION TO
• WOMEN: Autobiographical Sketches.
By ELIZABETH BLACKWELL. Crown
8vo. , 6s.
Boyd.— Works by A. K. H. BOYD, D.D.,
LL.D.
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS OF ST. ANDREWS.
1865-1890. 2 VolS. 8VO. Vol. I., I2J.
Vol. II., 155.
ST. ANDREWS AND ELSEWHERE:
Glimpses of Some Gone and of Things
Left. 8vo., 155.
Buss.— FRANCES MARY Buss AND HER
WORK FOR EDUCATION. By ANNIE
E. RIDLEY. With 5 Portraits and 4
Illustrations. Crown 8vo. , js. 6d.
Carlyle.— THOMASCAKLYLE: a History
of his Life. By JAMES A. FROUDE.
1795-1835. 2 vols. Crown 8vo.,7^.
1834-1881. 2 vols. Crown 8vo., ^s.
AND LETTERS OF
JAMES A. FROUDE.
Erasmus.—'
ERASMUS. By
Crown 8vo. , 6s.
Fox.— THE EARLY HISTORY OF CHARLES
JAMES Fox. By the Right Hon. Sir G.
O. TREVELYAN, Bart., M.P.
Library Edition. 8vo. , i8j.
Cabinet Edition. Crown 8vo. , 6.?.
Halford.— THE LIFE OF SIR HENRY
HALFORD, Bart., G.C.H., M.D.,
F.R.S. By WILLIAM MUNK, M.D.,
F.S.A. 8vo, I2S. 6d.
Hamilton.— LIFE OF SIR WILLIAM
HAMILTON. By R. P. GRAVES. 3 vols.
Havelock.— MEMOIRS OF SIR HENRY
HAVELOCK, K.C.B. By JOHN CLARK
MARSHMAN. Crown 8vo., 3*. 6tf.
Luther.— LIFE OF LUTHER. By
JULIUS KOSTLIN. With Illustrations
from Authentic Sources. Translated
from the German. Crown 8vo., ys. 6d
Macaulay.— THE LIFE AND LETTERS
OF LORD MACAULAY. By the Right
Hon. Sir G. O. TREVELYAN, Bart., M. P.
Popular Edit, i vol. Cr. 8vo. , zs. bd.
Student's Edition, i vol. Cr. 8vo.,w.
Cabinet Edition. 2vols. Post8vo.,l»
Library Edition. 2 vols. 8vo., y>s.
LONGMANS fr CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORK'S.
Biography, Personal Memoirs, &c. — continued.
Marbot.— THE MEMOIRS OF THE BARON
DE MARBOT. Translated from the
French by ARTHUR JOHN BUTLER,
M.A. Crown 8vo. , 75. 6d.
Seebohm. — THE OXFORD REFORMERS
— JOHNCOLET, ERASMUS AND THOMAS
MORE : a History of their Fellow-Work.
By FREDERIC SEEBOHM. 8vo., 14*.
Shakespeare.— OUTLINES OF THE
LIFE OF SHAKESPEARE. By J. O.
HALLIWELL-PHILLIPPS. With nume-
rous Illustrations and Fac-similes. 2
vols. Royal 8vo., £i is.
Shakespeare's TRUE LIFE. By JAS.
WALTER. With 500 Illustrations by
GERALD E. MOIRA. Imp. 8vo., sis.
Stephen.— ESSAYS IN ECCLESIASTICAL
BIOGRAPHY. By Sir JAMES STEPHEN.
Crown 8vo. , 75. 6d.
Turgot.— THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF
TURGOT, Comptroller-General of France,
1774-1776. Edited for English Readers
byW.WALKERSTEPHENS. 8vO.,I2J.6^.
Verney.— MEMOIRS OF THE VERNEY
FAMILY. Compiled from the Letters and
Illustrated by the Portraits at Claydon
House, Bucks.
Vols. I. and II. DURING THE CIVIL
WAR. By FRANCES VERNEY. With
38 Portraits. Royal 8vo., 42^.
Vol. III. DURING THE COMMON-
WEALTH. 1650-1660. By MARGARET
M. VERNEY. With 10 Portraits, &c.
8VO. , 21 S.
Walford.— TWELVE ENGLISH AUTHOR-
ESSES. ByL. B. WALFORD. Cr. 8vo.,4J. 6d.
Wellington. — LIFE OF THE DUKE OF
WELLINGTON. By the Rev. G. R.
GLEIG, M.A. Crown 8vo., y. 6d.
Wolf.— THE LIFE OF JOSEPH WOLF,
ANIMAL PAINTER. By A. H. Palmer,
Author of ' The Life of Samuel Palmer '.
With 53 Plates and 14 Illustrations in
the Text. Royal 8vo, ais.
Travel and Adventure, the Colonies, &c.
Arnold.— Works by Sir EDWIN ARNOLD,
K.C.I.E.
SEAS AND LANDS. With 71 Illustra-
tions. Cr. 8vo., y. 6d.
WANDERING WORDS. With 45 Illus-
trations. 8vo., i8j.
AUSTRALIA AS IT IS, or Facts and
Features, Sketches and Incidents of
Australia and Australian Life, with
Notices of New Zealand. By A CLERGY-
MAN, thirteen years resident in the
interior of NewSouth Wales. Cr. 8vo., y.
Baker.— Works by Sir SAMUEL WHITE
BAKER.
EIGHT YEARS IN CEYLON. With 6
Illustrations. Crown 8vo. , 3*. 6d.
THE RIFLE AND THE HOUND IN CEY-
LON. 6 Illustrations. Cr. 8vo. , 3^. 6d.
Bent.— Works by J. THEODORE BENT.
THE RUINED CITIES OF MASHONA-
LAND-: being a Record of Excavation
and Exploration in 1891. With Map,
13 Plates, and 104 Illustrations in the
Text. Crown 8vo., 3^. 6^.
THE SACRED CITY OF THE ETHIOPIANS:
being a Record of Travel and Re-
search in Abyssinia in 1893. With 8
Plates and 65 Illustrations in the
Text. 8vo., i8j.
Bicknell.— TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE
IN NORTHERN QUEENSLAND. By
ARTHUR C. BICKNELL. With 24
Plates and 22 Illustrations in the text.
8vo. I5J.
Brassey.— VOYAGES AND TRAVELS OF
LORD BRASSEY. K.C.B., D.C.L., 1862-
1894. Arranged and Edited by Captain
S. EARDLEY-WlLMOT. 2 vols. Cr.
8vo. , ioj.
Brassey.— Works by the late LADY
BRASSEY.
A VOYAGE IN THE ' SUNBEAM ' ; OUR
HOME ON THE OCEAN FOR ELEVEN
MONTHS.
Library Edition. With 8 Maps and
Charts, and 118 Illustrations. 8vo. ,
215.
Cabinet Edition. With Map and 66
Illustrations. Crown 8vo., js. 6d.
Silver Library Edition. With 66
Illustrations. Crown 8vo., y. 6d.
Popular Edition. With 60 Illustra-
tions. 410., 6d. sewed, is. cloth.
School Edition. With 37 Illustrations.
Fcp., 25.c!oth, or y. white parchment.
LONGMANS &» CO. 'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
Travel and Adventure, the Colonies, &c. — continued.
Murdoch.— FROM EDINBURGH TO THE
ANTARCTIC : An Artist's Notes and
Sketches during the Dundee Antarctic
Expedition of 1892-93. By W. G. BURN
MURDOCH. With 2 Maps and numerous
Illustrations. 8vo. , i8s
Nansen.— Works by Dr. FRIDTJOP
NANSEN.
THE FIRST CROSSING OF GREENLAND.
With numerous Illustrations and a
Map. Crown 8vo. , 3^. 6d.
ESKIMO LIFE. Translated by WILLIAM
ARCHER. With 31 Illustrations. 8vo.,
1 6s.
Peary.— MY ARCTIC JOURNAL: a Year
among Ice-Fields and Eskimos. By
JOSEPHINE DIEBITSCH-PEARY. With
19 Plates, 3 Sketch Maps, and 44
Illustrations in the Text. 8vo. , I2J.
Quillinan. — JOURNAL OP A FEW
MONTHS' RESIDENCE IN PORTUGAL,
and Glimpses of the South of Spain.
By Mrs. QUILLINAN (Dora Words-
worth). New Edition. Edited, with
Memoir, by EDMUND LEE, Author of
'Dorothy Wordsworth.' etc. Crown
8vo., 6s.
Smith. — CLIMBING IN THE BRITISH
ISLES. By W. P. HASKETT SMITH.
With Illustrations by ELLIS CARR.
Part I. ENGLAND. i6mo., 3^. 6d.
Part II. WALES AND IRELAND.
i6mo. , 3-f. 6d.
Part III. SCOTLAND. {In preparation.
Stephen. — THE PLAYGROUND OF
EUROPE. By LESLIE STEPHEN, formerly
President of the Alpine Club. New
Edition, with Additions and 4 Illustra-
tions. Crown 8vo., 6s. net.
THREE IN NORWAY. By Two of
Them. With a Map and 59 Illustra-
tions. Cr. 8vo. , 2s. boards, 2s. 6d. cloth.
Whishaw. — Works by FRED. J.
WHISHAW.
THE ROMANCE OF THE WOODS : Re-
printed Articles and Sketches. Crown
8vo., bs.
OUT OF DOORS IN TSARLAND : a Re-
cord of the Seeings and Doings of a
Wanderer in Russia. Cr. 8vo., 75. 6d.
Brassey.— Works by the late LADY
BRASSEY— continued.
SUNSHINE AND STORM IN THE EAST.
Library Edition. With 2 Maps and
141 Illustrations. 8vo., 2is.
Cabinet Edition. With 2 Maps and
114 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. ,75. 6d.
Popular Edition. With 103 Illustra-
tions. 410. , 6d. sewed, is. cloth.
IN THE TRADES, THE TROPICS, AND
THE ' ROARING FORTIES '.
Cabinet Edition. With Map and 220
Illustrations. Crown 8vo. , js. 6d.
Popular Edition. With 183 Illustra-
tions. 4to. , 6d. sewed, is. cloth.
THREE VOYAGES IN THE ' SUNBEAM '.
Popular Edition. 346 Illustrations.
4to., '2.s. t>d.
THE LAST VOYAGE TO INDIA AND
AUSTRALIA IN THE 'SUNBEAM'.
With Charts and Maps, and 40 Illus-
trations in Monotone, and nearly 200
Illustrations in the Text. 8vo. , 2is.
Froude.— Works by JAMES A. FROUDE.
OCEANA : or England and her Colonies.
With 9 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. ,
2s. boards, 2s. 6d. cloth.
THE ENGLISH IN THE WEST INDIES :
or the Bow of Ulysses. With 9 Illus-
trations. Cr. 8vo. , 2S. bds. , 2s. 6d. cl.
Howitt. — VISITS TO REMARKABLE
PLACES, Old Halls, Battle-Fields,
Scenes illustrative of Striking Passages
in English History and Poetry. By
WILLIAM HOWITT. With 80 Illustra-
tions. Crown 8vo. , 35-. 6d.
Knight.— Works by E. F. KNIGHT.
THE CRUISE OF THE 'ALERTE': the
Narrative of a Search for Treasure on
the Desert Island of Trinidad. 2 Maps
and 23 Illustrations. Cr. 8vo., 35. 6d.
WHFRE THREE EMPIRES MEET : a Nar-
rative of Recent Travel in Kashmir,
Western Tibet, Baltistan, Ladak,
Gilgit, and the adjoining Countries.
With a Man and 54 Illustrations.
Cr. 8vo., 3^. 6d.
Lees and Clutterbuck.— B. C. 1887 :
A RAMBLE IN BRITISH COLUMBIA. By
J. A. LEES and W. J. CLUTTERBUCK.
With Map and 75 Illustrations. Cr. 8vo.,
y. 6it.
LONGMANS & CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS. 9
Sport and Pastime.
THE BADMINTON LIBRARY
Crown 8vo., IDS. 6d., each volume.
Edited by the DUKE OF BEAUFORT, K.G., assisted by ALFRED E. T. WATSON.
ARCHERY. By C. J. LONGMAN and
Col. H. WALROND, &c. 195 Illusts.
ATHLETICS AND FOOTBALL. By
MONTAGUE SHEARMAN. 51 Illusts.
BIG GAME SHOOTING. By C. PHIL-
LIPPS-WOLLEY, F. C. SELOUS, &C.
Vol. I. Africa and America. With
77 Illus.
Vol. II. Europe, Asia, and the Arctic
Regions. With 73 Illus.
BILLIARDS. By Major W. BROADFOOT,
R.E. [/« the Press.
BOATING. By W. B. WOODGATE. With
49 Illustrations.
COURSING AND FALCONRY. By
HARDING Cox and the Hon. GERALD
LASCELLES. With 76 Illustrations.
CRICKET. By A. G. STEEL, the Hon. R.
H. LYTTELTON, ANDREW LANG, W. G.
GRACE, &c. With 64 Illustrations.
CYCLING. By the Earl of Albemarle
and G. LACY HILLIER. With 59 Illus.
DANCING. By Mrs. LILLY GROVE,
F.R.G.S., &c. With 131 Illustrations.
DRIVING. By the DUKE OF BEAUFORT.
With 65 Illustrations.
FENCING, BOXING. AND WREST-
LING. By WALTER H. POLLOCK, F.
C. GROVE, WALTER ARMSTRONG.
With 42 Illustrations.
FISHING. By H. CHOLMONDELEY-PEN-
NELL, the MARQUIS OF EXETER, G.
CHRISTOPHER DAVIES, &c.
Vol. I. Salmon, Trout, and Grayling.
With 158 Illustrations.
Vol. II. Pike and other Coarse Fish.
With 133 Illustrations.
GOLF. By HORACE G. HUTCHINSON,
the Rt. Hon. A. J. BALKOUR, M.P.,
Sir W. G. SIMPSON, Bart., ANDREW
LANG, &c. With 89 Illustrations.
HUNTING. By the DUKE OF BEAUFORT,
K.G., MOWBKAY MORRIS, the EARL OF
SUFFOLK AND BERKSHIRE, and ALFRED
E. T. WATSON, &c. 53 Illustrations.
MOUNTAINEERING. By C. T. DENT,
Sir F. POLLOCK, Bart. , W. M. CONWAY,
DOUGLAS FRESHFIELD. C. E. MA-
THEWS, &c. With 108 Illustrations.
RACING AND STEEPLE-CHASING.
By the EARL OF SUFFOLK AND BERK-
SHIRE, ARTHUR COVENTRY, &c. With
58 Illustrations.
RIDING AND POLO. By Captain
ROBERT WEIR, J. MORAY BROWN, the
DUKE OF BEAUFORT, K.G., the EARL
of SUFFOLK AND BERKSHIRE, &c. With
59 Illustrations.
SEA FISHING. By JOHN BICKERDYKE.
With Contributions by Sir H. GORE-
BOOTH, Bart., ALFRED C. HARMS-
WORTH, and W. SENIOR. With 197
Illustrations.
SHOOTING. By Lord WALSINGHAM and
Sir RALPH PAYNE-GALLWEY, Bart.
LORD LOVAT, LORD C. L. KERR,
and A. J. STUART-WORTLEY, &C.
Vol. I. Field and Covert. With 105
Illustrations.
Vol. II. Moor and Marsh. With 65
Illustrations.
SKATING, CURLING, TOBOGA-
NING, AND OTHER ICE SPORTS.
By J. M. HEATHCOTE, C. G. TEBBUTT,
T. MAXWELL WITHAM, the Rev. JOHN
KERR, &c. With 284 Illustrations.
SWIMMING. By ARCHIBALD SINCLAIR
and WILLIAM HENRY. Wiih 119 Illus.
TENNIS, LAWN TENNIS. RAC-
QUETS, AND FIVES. By J. M. and
C. G. HEATHCOTE, E. O. PLEYDELL-
BOUVERIE, the Hon. A. LYTTELTON,
Miss L. DOD, &c. With 79 Illustrations.
YACHTING.
Vol. I. Cruising, Construction, Racing,
Rules.ntting-Out, &c. BySir EDWARD
SULLIVAN, Bart., LORD BRASSEY,
K.C.B., C. E. SETH-SMITH, C.B., &c.
With 114 Illustrations.
Vol. II. Yacht Clubs. Yachting in
America and the Colonies, Yacht Rac-
ing, &c. By R. T. PRITCHETT, the
EARL OF ONSLOW, G.C.M.G., &c.
With 195 Illustrations.
LONGMANS & CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
Sport and Pastime— continued.
FUR AND FEATHER SERIES.
Edited by A. E. T. WATSON.
Crown 8vo. , 55. each Volume.
THE PARTRIDGE. Natural History,
by the Rev. H. A. MACPHF.RSON ;
Shooting, by A. J. STUART- WOUTLEY ;
Cookery, by GEORGE SAINTSBURY.
With n Illustrations and various Dia-
grams.
THE GROUSE. Natural History by the
Rev. H. A. MACPKERSON ; Shooting,
by A. J. STUART- WORTLEY ; Cookery,
by GEORGE SAINTSBURY. With 13
Illustrations and various Diagrams.
THE PHEASANT. Natural History by
the Rev. H.A. MACPHERSON ; Shooting,
by A. J- STUART-WORTLEY; Cookery.,
by ALEXANDER iNNEsSn AND. Withio
Illustrations and various Diagrams.
THE HARE AND THE RABBIT. By
the Hon. GERALD LASCELLES, &c.
[/n preparation.
WILDFOWL. By the HON. JOHN SCOTT-
MONTAGU, M.P., &c. {In preparation*
THE RED DEER. By CAMERON OF
LOCHIEL, LORD EBRINGTON, &c.
[/» prepara tion.
Bickerdyke.— DAYS OF MY LIFE ON
WATERS FRESH AND SALT ; and other
Papers. By JOHN BICKERDYKE. With
Photo-Etched Frontispiece and 8 Full-
page Illustrations. Crown 8vo. , 6s.
Campbell -Walker. —THE CORRECT
CARD : or, How to Play at Whist ; a
Whist Catechism. By Major A. CAMP-
BELL-WALKER. Fcp. 8vo. , 2s. 6d.
DEAD SHOT (THE) : or, Sportsman's
Complete Guide. Being a Treatise on
the Use of the Gun, with Rudimentary
and Finishing Lessons on the Art of
Shooting Game of all kinds. By
MARKSMAN. Crown 8vo., IQJ. 6d.
Ellis.— CHESS SPARKS; or, Short and
Bright Games of Chess. Collected and
Arranged by J. H. ELLIS, M.A. 8vo.,
4s. 6d.
Falkener. — GAMES, ANCIENT AND ORI-
ENTAL, AND How TO PLAY THEM.
By EDWARD FALKENER. With nume-
rous Photographs & Diagrams. 8vo. , 2is.
Ford. — THE THEORY AND PRACTICE OF
ARCHERY. BY HORACE FORD. New
Edition, tho. .vaghly Revised and Re-
written by W. BUTT, M.A. With a Pre-
face by C. J. LONGMAN, M.A. 8vo., 14^.
Francis.— A BOOK ON ANGLING: or,
Treatise on the Art of Fishing in every
Branch ; including full Illustrated List
of Salmon Flies. By FRANCIS FRANCIS.
With Portrait and Plates. Cr. 8vo., 155.
Gibson. — TOBOGGANING ON CROOKED
RUNS. By the Hon. HARRY GIBSON.
With Contributions by F. DE B. STRICK-
LAND and ' LADY-TOBOGGANER'. With
40 Illustrations. Crown 8vo., 6s.
Hawker. — THE DIARY OF COLONEL
PETER HAWKER, author of "Instruc-
tions to Young Sportsmen ". With an
Introduction 'by Sir RALPH PAYNE-
GALLWEY, Bart. 2 vols. 8vo., 32^.
Lang.— ANGLING SKETCHES. By A.
LANG. With2olllus Cr. 8vo. , 3^. 6d.
L o n g m a n.— CHESS OPENINGS. By
FRED. W. LONGMAN. Fcp. 8vo., 2^. 6d.
Maskelyne.— SHARPS AND FLATS a
Complete Revelation of the Secrets of
Cheating at Games of Chance and Skill.
By JOHN NEVIL MASKELYNE. With 62
Illustrations. Crown 8vo., 6s.
Payne-Gallwey. — Works by Sir
RALPH PAYNE-GALLWEY, Bart.
LETTERS TO YOUNG SHOOTERS (First
Series). On the Choice and Useof a Gun.
With 41 Illustrations. Cr. 8vo. , js. 6d.
LETTERSTO YOUNG SHOOTERS. (Second
Series). On the Production, Preserva-
tion, a n d K ill i ng of Game. With Direc-
tions in Shooting Wood-Pigeons and
Breaking-in Retrievers. With 104
Illustrations. Crown 8vo., i2s. 6d.
Pole.— Works by W. POLE, F.R.S.
THE THEORY OF THE MODERN SCIEN-
TIFIC GAME OF WHIST. Fcp. Svo.,,
zs. 6d.
THE EVOLUTION OF WHIST. Cr. 8vo.,6j.
Proctor.— Works by R. A. PROCTOR.
How TO PLAY WHIST : WITH THE.
LAWS AND ETIQUETTE OF WHIST.
Crown 8vo. , y. 6d.
HOME WHIST : an Easy Guide to Cor-
rect Play. i6mo. , is.
Ronalds. -THE FLY-FISHER'S ENTO-
MOLOGY. By ALFRED RONALDS. With
20 Coloured Plates. 8vo., 14;.
Wilcocks. THE SEA FISHERMAN : Com-
prising the Chief Methods of Hook and:
Line Fishing in the British and other
Seas, and Remarks on Nets, Boats, and
Boating. ByJ. C. WILCOCKS. Illustrated.
Crown Svo. , 6s.
LONGMANS & CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
Veterinary Medicine, &c.
Steel. — Works by JOHN HENRY STEEL, | Fitzwygram.--HoRSES AND STABLES.
By Major-General Sir F. FHMWYGRAM,
Bart. With 56 pages of Illustrations.
8vo. , 2s. 6d. net.
" Stonehenge."--THE DOG IN HEALTH
AND DISEASE. By " STONEHENGE ".
With 78 Illustrations 8vo., 75. 6d.
Youatt.— Works by WILLIAM You ATT.
THE HORSE. With 52 Illustrations.
8vo. , 7-r. 6d.
THE DOG. With 53 Illustratiors.
I 8vo. , 6s.
A TREATISE ON THE DISEASES OF THE
DOG. 88 Illustrations. 8vo., los. 6d.
A TREATISE ON THE DISEASES OF
THE Ox. With 119 Illustrations.
8vo. , 15.?.
A TREATISE ON THE DISEASES OF THE
SHEEP. With 100 Illustrations. 8vo. ,
OUTLINES OF EQUINE ANATOMY: a
Manual for the use of Veterinary
Students in the Dissecting Room.
Crown 8vo, js. 6d,
Mental, Moral, and Political Philosophy.
LOGIC, RHETORIC, PSYCHOLOGY, ETC.
Bain.— Works by ALEXANDER
Abbott. — THE ELEMENTS OF LOGIC. By
T. K. ABBOTT, B.D. i2mo., y.
Aristotle.— Works by.
THE POLITICS: G. Bekker's Greek Text
of Books I., III., IV. (VII.), with an
English Translation by W. E. BOL-
LAND, M.A. ; and short Introductory
Essays by A. LANG, M.A. Crown
8vo., 75. 6d.
THE POLITICS: Introductory Essays.
By ANDREW LANG (from Bolland and
Lang's ' Polities'). Cr. 8vo., zs. 6d.
THE ETHICS: Greek Text, Illustrated
with Essay and Notes. By Sir ALEX-
ANDER GRANT, Bart. 2 vols. 8vo.,32j.
THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS: Newly
Translated into English. By ROBERT
WILLIAMS. Crown 8vo. , ?s. 6d.
AN INTRODUCTION TO ARISTOTLE'S
ETHICS. Books I. -IV. (Book X. c.
vi.-ix. in an Appendix.) With a con-
tinuous Analysis and Notes. By the
Rev. E. MOORE, D.D. Cr. 8vo. ,ios.6d.
Bacon. — Works by FRANCIS BACON.
COMPLETE WORKS. Edited by R. L.
ELLIS, J. SPEDDING, and D. D.
HEATH. 7 vols. 8vo., .£3 iy. 6d.
LETTERS AND LIFE, including all his
occasional Works. Edited by JAMES
SPEDDING. 7 vols. 8vo., ^4 4^.
THE ESSAYS: with Annotations. By
RICHARD WHATELY, D.D. 8vo.
ios. 6d.
THE ESSAYS: Edited, with Notes. By
F. STORR and C. H. GIBSON. Cr.
8vo. , 3-r. 6d.
THE ESSAYS. With Introduction, Notes,
and Index. By E. A. ABBOTT. D.D.
2 vols. Fcp. 8vo. , 6s. The Text and
Index only, without Introduction and
Notes, in One Volume. Fcp. 8vo. ,
zs. 6d.
BAIN,
LL.D.
MENTAL SCIENCE. Crown 8ro. , 6s. 6d.
MORAL SCIENCE. Crown 8vo., 4-r. 6d.
The two works as above can be had in one
volume, price ios. 6d.
SENSES AND THE INTELLECT. 8vo. , 155.
EMOTIONS AND THE WILL. 8vo., iy.
LOGIC, DEDUCTIVE AND INDUCTIVE.
Part I., 45. Part II., 6s. 6d.
PRACTICAL ESSAYS. Crown 8vo., y.
Bray.— Works by CHARLES BRAY.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF NECESSITY : or
Law in Mind as in Matter. Cr. 8vo. , y.
THE EDUCATION OF THE FEELINGS : a
Moral System for Schools. Crown
8vo., 2s. 6d.
Bray.— ELEMENTS OF MORALITY, in
Easy Lessons for Home and School
Teaching. By Mrs. CHARLES BRAY.
Cr. 8vo., ij. 6d.
Davidson.— THE LOGIC OF DEFINI-
TION, Explained and Applied. By
WILLIAM L. DAVIDSON, M.A. Crown
8vo. , 6s.
Green.— THE WORKS OF THOMAS HILL
GREEN. Edited by R. L. NETTLI sini-.
Vols. I. and II. Philosophical Works.
8vo. , i6j. each.
Vol. III. Miscellanies. With Index to
the three Volumes, and Memoir. 8vo.,
2IS.
LECTURES ON THE PRINCIPLES OF
POLITICAL OBLIGATION. With
Preface by BKV.NARD BOSANQUET.
8vo., 5-r.
to LONGMANS &• CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
Mental, Moral and Political Philosophy — continued.
Hodgson. — Works by SHADWORTH H.
HODGSON.
TIME AND SPACE : a Metaphysical
Essay. 8vo., i6j.
THE THEORY OF PRACTICE : an Ethical
Inquiry. 2 vols. 8vo. , 245.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF REFLECTION. 2
vols. 8vo., 2is.
Hume. — THE PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS
OF DAVID HUME. Edited by T. H.
GREEN and T. H. GROSE. 4 vols. 8vo.,
56^. Or separately, Essays. 2 vols.
28.?. Treatise of Human Nature. 2
vols. 28^.
Justinian.— THE INSTITUTES OF JUS-
TINIAN: Latin Text, chiefly that of
Huschke, with English Introduction,
Translation, Notes, and Summary. By
THOMAS C. SANDARS, M.A. 8vo. i8j.
Kant.— Works by IMMANUEL KANT.
CRITIQUE OF PRACTICAL REASON, AND
OTHER WORKS ON THE THEORY OF
ETHICS. Tran slated byT. K.ABBOTT,
B.D. With Memoir. 8vo., i2s. 6d.
FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE
METAPHYSIC OF ETHICS. Trans-
lated by T. K. ABBOTT, B.D. (Ex-
tracted from ' Kant's Critique of
Practical Reason and other Works on
the Theory of Ethics.' Cr. 8vo. y.
INTRODUCTION TO LOGIC, AND HIS
ESSAY ON THE MISTAKEN SUBTILTY
OF THE FOUR FIGURES. Translated
by T. K. ABBOTT, and with Notes by
S. T. COLERIDGE. 8vo. , 6s.
Killick.— HANDBOOK TO MILL'S SYS-
TEM OF LOGIC. By Rev. A. H. KIL-
LICK, M.A. Crown 8vo., y. 6d.
Ladd. — Works by GEORGE TURMBULL
LADD.
ELEMENTS OP PHYSIOLOGICAL PSY-
CHOLOGY. 8VO.( 2IS.
OUTLINES OF PHYSIOLOGICAL PSY-
CHOLOGY. A Text-Book of Mental
Science for Academies and Colleges.
8VO. , I2S.
PSYCHOLOGY, DESCRIPTIVE AND EX-
PLANATORY : a Treatise of the Pheno-
mena, Laws, and Development of
Human Mental Life. 8vo., 2is.
PRIMER OF PSYCHOLOGY. Crown 8vo.,
SJ. 6rf.
PHILOSOPHY OF MIND : an Essay on
the Metaphysics of Physiology. 8vo.,
1 6s.
Lewes. — THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY,
from Thales to Comte. By GEORGE
HENRY LEWES. 2 vols. 8vo. , 32$.
Max Muller.— Works by F. M AX MUL-
LER.
THE SCIENCE OF THOUGHT. 8vo. , 2is.
THREE INTRODUCTORY LECTURES ON
THE SCIENCE OF THOUGHT. 8vo.,
2s. 6d.
Mill. — ANALYSIS OF THE PHENOMENA
OF THE HUMAN MIND. By JAMES
MILL. 2 vols. 8vo., 28s.
Mill.— Works by JOHN STUART MILL.
A SYSTEM OF LOGIC. Cr. 8vo. , 3^. 6d.
ON LIBERTY. Cr. 8vo , is. $d.
ON REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
Crown 8vo. , 2s.
UTILITARIANISM. 8vo., 2s. 6d.
EXAMINATION OF SIR WILLIAM
HAMILTON'S PHILOSOPHY. 8vo. , \6s.
NATURE, THE UTILITY OF RELIGION,
AND THEISM. Three Essays. 8vo.,5J.
Romanes. — MIND AND MOTION AND
MONISM. By the late GEORGE JOHN
ROMANES, M.A.; LL.D., F.R.S. Cr.
8vo., 4J. 6d.
Stock. — DEDUCTIVE LOGIC. By ST.
GEORGE STOCK. Fcp. 8vo., 3*. 6d.
Sully.— Works by JAMES SULLY.
THE HUMAN MIND : a Text-book of
Psychology. 2 vols. 8vo., 2u.
OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 8vo. , 9*.
THE TEACHER'S HANDBOOK OF PSY-
CHOLOGY. Crown 8vo. , y.
STUDIES OF CHILDHOOD. 8vo. i2s. 6d.
Swinburne. — PICTURE LOGIC : an
Attempt to Popularise the Science of
Reasoning. By ALFRED JAMES SWIN-
BURNE, M.A.
Post 8vo. , y.
Thomson.— OUTLINES OF THE NECES-
SARY LAWS OF THOUGHT: a Treatise
on Pure and Applied Logic. By WIL-
LIAM THOMSON, D.T tcrmerly Lord
Archbishop of York. Post 8vo. , 6s.
With 23 Woodcuts.
LONGMANS &• CO. 'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORK'S.
Mental, Moral and Political Philosophy— continued.
Whately.— Works by R. WHATELY,
D.D.
BACON'S ESSAYS. With Annotation.
By R. WHATELY. 8vo. , IQS. 6J.
ELEMENTS OF LOGIC. Cr. 8vo.,4f. 6d.
ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Cr. 8vo.,
ds. C>cf.
LESSONS ON REASONING. Fcp. 8vo.,
is. 6d.
Zeller.— Works by Dr. EDWARD ZELLER,
Professor in the University of Berlin.
THE STOICS, EPICUREANS, AND SCEP-
TICS. Translated by the Rev. O. J.
REICHEL, M.A. Crown 8vo., 151.
Zeller.— Works by Dr. ED WARD ZK i. LKR.
— continued.
OUTLINES OF THE HISTORY OF GKK.KK
PHILOSOPHY. Translated byS.\..\ii
F. ALLEYNE and EVELYN ABBOTT.
Crown 8vo. , ios. 6d.
PLATO AND THE OLDER ACADEMY.
Translated by SARAH F. ALLEYNE
and ALFRED GOODWIN, B.A. Crown
8vo. , i8j.
SOCRATES AN D THE SOCR ATIC SCHOOLS.
Translated by the Rev. O. J. REICHEL,
M.A. Crown 8vo., ioj. 6d.
MANUALS OF CATHOLIC PHILOSOPHY.
(Stonyhurst Series.)
A MANUAL OF POLITICAL ECONOMY.
By C. S. DEVAS, M.A. Cr. 8vo., 6*. 6d.
FIRST PRINCIPLES OF KNOWLEDGE. By
JOHN RICKABY, S.J. Crown 8vo., y.
GENERAL METAPHYSICS. By JOHN RICK-
ABY, S.J. Crown 8vo., 5*.
LOGIC. By RICHARD F. CLARKE, S.J.
Crown 8vo., y.
MORAL PHILOSOPHY (ETHICS AND NATU-
RAL LAW). By JOSEPH RICKABY, S.J.
Crown 8vo., 55.
NATURAL THEOLOGY. By BERNARD
BOEDDER, S.J. Crown 8vo., 6s. (>d.
PSYCHOLOGY. By MICHAEL MAHER,
S.J. Crown 8vo., 6s. 6d.
History and Science of Language, &c.
Davidson.— LEA DING AND IMPORT ANT
ENGLISH WORDS: Explained and Ex-
emplnied. By WILLIAM L. DAVID-
SON, M.A. Fcp. 8vo., y. 6d.
Farrar.— LANGUAGE AND LANGUAGES.
By F. W. FARRAR, D.D., F.R.S., Cr.
8\o., 6s.
Graham.— ENGLISH SYNONYMS, Classi-
fied and Explained : with Practical
Exercises. By G. F. GRAHAM. Fcap.
Max" Muller.- Works by F. MAX
MULLER.
THE SCIENCE OF LANGUAGE, Founded
on Lectures delivered at the Royal
Institution in 1861 and 1863. 2 vols.
Crown 8vo., z\s.
BIOGRAPHIES OF WORDS, AND THE
HOME OF THE ARYAS. Crown 8vo. ,
Max Muller.— Works by F. MAX
MULLER— continued.
Tin ICE LECTURES ON THE SCIENCE
OK LANGUAGE, AND ITS PLACE IN-
GENERAL EDUCATION, delivered at
Oxford, 1889. Crown 8vo., y.
Roget. — THESAURUS 01- ENGLISH
WORDS AND PHRASES. Classified and
Arranged so as to Facilitate the Ex-
pression of Ideas and assist in Literary
Composition. By PETER MARK ROGET,
M. D. , F. R.S. Recomposed throughout,
enlarged and improved, partly from the
Author's Notes, and with a full Index,
by the Author's Son, JOHN LEWIS
ROGET. Crown 8vo., icw. 6J.
Whately.— ENGLISH SYNONYMS. Ity
E. JANE WHATELY. Fcap. 8vo., y.
12 LONGMANS & CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
Political Economy and Economics.
Ashley. — ENGLISH ECONOMIC HISTORY
AND THEORY. By W. J. ASHLEY,
M.A. Crown 8vo., Part I., 5.?. Part
II., 105. 6d.
Bagehot.— ECONOMIC STUDIES. By
WALTER BAGEHOT. Cr. 8vo., y. 6d.
Barnett.— PRACTICABLE SOCIALISM :
Essays on Social Reform. By the Rev.
S. A. and Mrs. BARNETT. Cr. 8vo.( 6s.
Brassey.— PAPERS AND ADDRESSES ON
WORK AND WAGES. By Lord BRASSEY.
Edited by J. POTTER, and with Intro-
duction by GEORGE HOWELL, M.P.
Crown 8vo. , 55.
Devas. — A
ECONOMY.
MANUAL OF POLITICAL
By C. S. DEVAS, M.A.
Crown 8vo. , 6s. 6d. (Manuals of Catholic
Philosophy. )
Dowell. — A HISTORY OF TAXATION
AND TAXES IN ENGLAND, from the
Earliest Times to the Year 1885. By
STEPHEN DOWELL (4 vols. 8vo. ) Vols.
I. and II. The History of Taxation,
2is. Vols. III. and IV. The History of
Taxes, 2u.
Macleod. — Works by HENRY DUNNING
MACLEOD, M.A.
BIMETALISM. 8vo., 55. net.
THE ELEMENTS OF BANKING. Crown
8vo., 35. 6d.
THE THEORY AND PRACTICE OF BANK-
ING. Vol. I. 8VO., T.2S. Vol. II. 14?.
Macleod.— Works by HENRY DUNNING
MNCLEOD, M.A.
THE THEORY OF CREDIT. 8vo. Vol.
I. ioj. net. Vol. II., Part I., IQJ. net.
Vol. II. Part II., IQS. 6d.
A DIGEST OF THE LAW OF BILLS OF
EXCHANGE, BANK NOTES, &c.
Mill.— POLITICAL ECONOMY. By JOHN
STUART MILL.
Popular Edition. Crown 8vo. , 3^ 6d.
Library Edition. 2 vols. 8vo. , 30^.
Symes.— POLITICAL ECONOMY : a Short
Text-book of Political Economy. With
Problems for Solution, and Hints for
Supplementary Reading. By Prof. T- E.
SYMES, M.A., of University College,
Nottingham. Crown 8vo. , ?s. 6d.
Toynbee. — LECTURES ON THE IN-
DUSTRIAL REVOLUTION OF THE i8th
CENTURY IN ENGLAND. By ARNOLD
TOYNBEE. With a Memoir of the
Author by BENJAMIN JOWETT, D.D.
8vo., ioj. 6d.
Webb.— THE HISTORY OF TRADE
UNIONISM. By SIDNEY and BEATRICE
WEBB. With Map and full Bibliography
of the Subject. 8vo., i8s.
Evolution, Anthropology, &c.
Babington. — FALLACIES OF RACE
THEORIES AS APPLIED TO NATIONAL
CHARACTERISTICS. EssaysbyWiLLiAM
D ALTON BABINGTON, M.A. Crown
8vo., 6s.
Clodd. — Works by EDWARD CLODD.
THE STORY OF CREATION : a Plain Ac-
count of Evolution. With 77 Illustra-
tions. Crown 8vo. , 35. 6d.
A PRIMER OF EVOLUTION : being a
Popular Abridged Edition of ' The
Story of Creation'. With Illus-
trations. Fcp. 8vo., is. 6d.
Lang. — CUSTOM AND MYTH: Studies
of Early Usage and Belief. By ANDREW
L ' \G, M.A. With 15 Illustrations.
Crown 8vo., y. 6d.
Lubbock. — THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISA-
TION and the Primitive Condition of
Man. By Sir J. LUBBOCK, Bart., M.P.
With 5 Plates and 20 Illustrations in the
Text. 8vo. i8s.
Romanes. — Works by GEORGE JOHN
ROMANES, M.A., LL.D., F.R.S.
DARWIN, AND AFTER DARWIN : an Ex-
position of the Darwinian Theory,
and a Discussion on Post-Darwinian
Questions.
Part I. THE DARWINIAN THEORY.
With Portrait of Darwin and 125
Illustrations. Crown 8vo. , ios. 6</.
Part II. POST-DARWINIAN QUES-
TIONS : Heredity and Utility. With
Portrait of the Author and 5 Illus-
trations, f'r. 8vo. , los. 6d.
AN EXAMINATION OF WEISMANNISM.
Crown 8vo. , 6s.
MIND AND MOTION AND MONISM.
Crown 8vo. , 45. 6d.
LOXGMANS &> CO. 'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS. 13
Classical Literature and Translations, &c.
Abbott.— HELLENICA. A Collection of
Essays on Greek Poetry, Philosophy,
History, and Religion. Edited by
EVELYN ABBOTT, M.A.,LL.D. 8vo.,i6j.
JEschylus.— EUMENIDES OF AESCHY-
LUS. With Metrical English Translation.
By J. F. DAVIES. 8vo., js.
Aristophanes.— The ACHARNIANS OF
ARISTOPHANES, translated into English
Verse. By R. Y. TYRRELL. Cr. 8vo., u.
Becker.— Works by Professor BECKER.
GALLUS : or, Roman Scenes in the Time
of Augustus. Illustrated. Cr. 8vo. ,
CHARICLES: or, Illustrations of the
Private Life of the Ancient Greeks.
Illustrated. Cr 8vo. , y. 6d.
Cicero.— CICERO'S CORRESPONDENCE.
By R. Y. TYRRELL. Vols. I., II., III.
8vo., each izs. Vol. IV., 15*.
Parnell.— GREEK LYRIC POETRY: a
Complete Collection of the Surviving
Passages from the Greek Song-Writing.
By GEORGE S. FARNELL, M. A. With 5
Plates. 8vo. , i6s.
Lang.— HOMER AND THE EPIC. By
ANDREW LANG. Crown 8vo. , gs. net.
Mackail.— SELECT EPIGRAMS I-KOM
THE GREEK ANTHOLOGY. By J. W.
MACKAIL 8vo., i6j.
Rich.— A DICTIONARY OP ROMAN AND
GREEK ANTIQUITIES. By A. RICH,
B.A. With- 2000 Woodcuts. Crown
8vo., js. 6d.
Sophocles. — Translated into English
Verse. By ROBERT WHITELAW, M. A. ,
Assistant Master in Rugby School : late
Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge.
Crown 8vo. , Ss. M.
Tyrrell.— TRANSLATIONS INTO GREEK
AND LATIN VERSE. Edited by R. Y.
TYRRELL. 8vo., 6s.
Virgil. — THE^ENEID OF VIRGIL. Trans-
lated into English Verse by JOHN CON-
INGTON. Crown 8vo. , 6j.
THE POEMS OF VIRGIL. Translated
into English Prose by JOHN CONING-
TON. Crown 8vo. , 6s.
THE ^ENEID OF ViRGiL.freely translated
into English Blank Verse. By W. J.
THORNHILL. Crown 8vo., 7*. 6d.
THE ^ENEID OF VIRGIL. Books I. to
VI. Translated into English Verse
by JAMES RHOADKS. Crown 8vo.,
Wilkins.— THE GROWTH OF THE HOM-
ERIC POEMS. By G. WILKINS. 8vo. 6s.
Poetry and the Drama.
Acworth. — BALLADS OF THE MARAT-
HAS. Rendered into English Verse from
the Marathi Originals. By HARRY
ARBUTHNOT ACWORTH. 8vo., 5*.
Allingh am.— Works
ALLINGHAM.
by WILLIAM
BLACKBERRIES. Imperial i6mo., 6s.
IRISH SONGS AND POEMS. With Fron-
tispiece of the Waterfall of Asaroe.
Fcp. 8vo., 6s.
LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD. With Por-
trait of the Author. Fcp. 8vo. , y. 6d.
Allingham. — Works by WILLIAM
ALLINGHAM — continued.
FLOWER PIECES ; DAY AND NIGHT
SONGS; BALLADS. With 2 Designs
by D. G. ROSSETTI. Fcp. 8vo. , 6s. ;
large paper edition, I2S.
LIFE AND PHANTASY : with Frontis-
piece by Sir J. E. MILLAIS, Bart.,
and Design by ARTHUR HUGHES.
Fcp. 8vo. , 6s. ; large paper edition, izs.
THOUGHT AND WORD, AND ASHBY
MANOR : a Play. Fcp. 8vo. , 6s. ; large
paper edition, izs.
Sets of the above 6 vols. may be had in
uniform ha If -parchment binding, price 3OJ.
14 LONGMAN'S 6» CO.'S STANDARD A VD GENERAL WORKS.
Poetry and the Drama —continued.
Armstrong.— Works by G. F. SAVAGE-
ARMSTRONG.
POEMS: Lyrical and Dramatic. Fcp.
8vo., 6s.
KING SAUL. (The Tragedy of Israel,
Part I. ) Fcp. 8vo. 55.
KING DAVID. (The Tragedy of Israel,
Part II.) Fcp. 8vo., 6s.
KING SOLOMON. (The Tragedy of
Israel, Part III.) Fcp. 8vo., 6s.
UGONE : a. Tragedy. Fcp. 8vo. , 6s.
A GARLAND FROM GREECE : Poems.
Fcp. 8vo. , js. 6d.
STORIES OF WICKLOW: Poems. Fcp.
8vo., 7s. 6d.
MEPHISTOPHELES IN BROADCLOTH: a
Satire. Fcp. 8vo. , 45.
ONE IN THE INFINITE : a Poem. Cr.
8vo., js. 6d.
Armstrong. — THE POETICAL WORKS
OF EDMUND J. ARMSTRONG. Fcp.
Arnold. — Works by Sir EDWIN ARNOLD,
K.C.I.E.
THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD: or, the
Great Consummation. Cr. 8vo., js. 6d.
net.
THE TENTH MUSE, AND OTHER
POEMS. Crown 8vo. , 55. net.
POTIPHAR'S WIFE, and other Poems.
Crown 8vo. , 5^. net.
ADZUMA : or, the Japanese Wife. A
Play. Crown 8vo. , 6s. 6d. net.
Beesly.— BALLADS, AND OTHER VERSE.
By A. H. BEESLY. Fcp. 8vo. , $s.
Bell.— CHAMBER COMEDIES: a Collec-
tion of Plays and Monologues for the
Drawing Room. By Mrs. HUGH
BELL. Crown 8vo., 6s.
Carmichael.— POEMS. By JENNINGS
CARMICHAEL (Mrs. FRANCIS MULLIS).
Crown 8vo, 6s. net.
Coehrane.— THE KESTREL'S NEST,
and other Verses. By ALFRED COOH-
RANE. Fcp. 8vo., 3-r. 6d.
Goethe.
FAUST, Part I., the German Text, with
Introduction and Notes. By ALBERT
M. SELSS, Ph.D., M.A. Cr. 8vo., y.
FAUST. Translated, with Notes. By
T. E. WEBB. 8vo., i2j. 6d.
Ingelow. — Works by JEAN INGELOW
POETICAL WORKS. 2 vols. Fcp. 8vo. ,
I2S.
LYRICAL AND OTHER POEMS. Selected
from the Writings of JEAN INGELOW.
Fcp. 8vo. , 2s. 6d. ; cloth plain, y.
cloth gilt.
Kendall.— SONGS FROM DREAMLAND.
By MAY KENDALL. Fcp 8vo., $s. net.
Lang.— Works by ANDREW LANG.
BAN AND ARRIERE BAN. A Rally of
Fugitive Rhymes Fcp. 8vo. , $s.
net.
GRASS OF PARNASSUS. Fcp. 8vo.,
zs. 6d. net.
BALLADS OF BOOKS. Edited by
ANDREW LANG. Fcp. 8vo.f 6s.
THE BLUE POETRY BOOK. Edited by
ANDREW LANG. With 12 Plates and
88 Illustrations in the Text by H. }.
FOKD and LANCELOT SPKED. Crown
8vo., 6s.
Special Edition, printed on Indian
paper. With Notes, but without
Illustrations. Crown 8vo. , js. 6J.
Ijecky.— POEMS. By W. E. H. LECKY.
Fcp. 8vo., 5.?.
Peek. — Works by HEDLEY PEEK
(FRANK LEYTON).
SKELETON LEAVES : Poems. With a
Dedicatory Poem to the late Hon.
Roden Noel. Fcp. 8vo., zs. 6d. net.
THE SHADOWS OF THE LAKE, and
other Poems. Fcp. 8vo., 2s. 6d. net.
Lytton.— Works by THE EARL OF
LYTTON (OWEN MEREDITH).
MARAH. Fcp. 8vo., 6s. 6d.
KING POPPY: a Fantasia. With i
Plate and Design on Title-Page by
Sir ED. BURNE-JONES, A. R. A. Crow n
8vo. , los. 6d.
THE WANDERER. Cr. 8vo., IQJ. 6d.
LUCILE. Crown 8vo., IDS. 6d.
SELECTED POEMS. Cr. 8vo., ios. 6d.
LONGMANS &> CO. 'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
<5
Poetry and the
Macaulay.— LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME,
&c. By Lord MACAULAY.
Illustrated by G. SCHARF. Fcp. 4to.,
los. 6d.
Bijou Edition.
i8mo., zs. 6d., gilt top.
- Popular Edition.
— continued.
Piatt. — Works by JOHN JAMES PIATT.
Fcp. 410., 6d. sewed, is. cloth.
Illustrated by J. R. WEGUELIN. Crown
8vo., y. 6d.
Annotated Edition. Fcp. 8vo., is.
sewed, is. 6d. cloth.
Murray.— (ROBERT F. ), Author of ' The
Scarlet Gown'. His Poems, with a
Memoir by ANDREW LANG. Fcp. 8vo. ,
y. net.
ETesbit. — LAYS AND LEGENDS. By E.
NESBIT (Mrs. HUBERT BLAND). First
Series. Crown 8vo.( 3*. 6d. Second
Series, with Portrait. Crown 8vo. , y.
Piatt.— Works by SARAH PIATT.
POEMS. With portrait of the Author.
2 vols. Crown 8vo. , los.
AN ENCHANTED CASTLE, AND OTHER
POEMS: Pictures, Portraits and People
in Ireland. Crown 8vo. , 3-r. 6d.
LITTLE NEW WORLD IDYLS. Cr. 8vo.,
5*
Rhoades. — TERESA AND OTHER
POEMS. By JAMES RHOADES. Crown
8vo., y. 6d.
Riley.— Works by JAMES WHITCOMB
RILEY.
OLD FASHIONED ROSES : Poems.
i2mo., y.
POEMS HERE AT HOME. Fcap. 8vo.,
6s. net.
Shakespeare.— BOWDLER'S FAMILY
SHAKESPEARE. With 36 Woodcuts,
i vol. 8vo., I4J. Or in 6 vols. Fcp.
8vo., 2is.
THE SHAKESPEARE BIRTHDAY BOOK.
By MARY F. DUNBAR. 32mo., is. 6d.
Sturgis. — A BOOK OF SONG. By JULIAN
STURGIS. i6mo., y.
Works of Fiction, Humour, &c.
Anstey.— Works by F. ANSTEY, Author
of • Vice Versa '.
THE BLACK POODLE, and other Stories.
Crown 8vo. , 2s. boards, zs. 6d. cloth.
VOCES POPULI. Reprinted from
'Punch'. First Series. With 20
Illustrations by J. BERNARD PART-
RIDGE. Cr. 8vo., y. 6d.
THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS. Re-
printed from ' Punch'. With 25 Ilius.
by J. B. PARTRIDGE. Post 410., y.
THE MAN FROM BLANKLEY'S: a Story
in Scenes, and other Sketches. With
24 Illustrations by J. BERNARD PART-
RIDGE. Fcp. 410., 6s.
Arnold. — THE STORY OF ULLA, and
other Tales. By EDWIN LESTER AR-
NOLD. Crown 8vo., 6s.
Astor. — A JOURNEY IN OTHER WORLDS.
a Romance of the Future. By JOHN
JACOB ASTor.. With 10 Illustrations.
Cr. 8vo. , 6s.
Baker.— BY THE WESTERN SEA. By
JAMES BAKER, Author of ' John Westa-
cott '. Crown 8vo. , y. 6d.
NOVELS AND TAI
Complete in n v
each.
Vivian Grey.
TheYoungDuke,&c.
Alroy, Ixion, &c.
Contarini Fleming,
&c.
.ES. Cheap Edition,
ols. Cr. 8vo. , i J. 6d.
Henrietta Temple.
Venetia. Tancred.
Coningsby. Sybil.
Lothair. Endymion.
Beaconsfield.— Works by the Earl of
BEACONSFIELD.
NOVELS AND TALES. The Hughenden
Edition. With 2 Portraits and n
Vignettes, n vols. Cr. 8vo., 42*.
Boulton. — JOSEPHINE CREWE. By
HELEN M. BOULTON. Cr. 8vo., 6s.
Carmichael.— POEMS. By JENNINGS
CARMICHAEL (Mrs. FRANCIS MULLIS).
Crown 8vo. 6s. net.
Clegg.— DAVID'S LOOM : a Story oi
Rochdale life in the early years of the
Nineteenth Century. By JOHN TRAF-
FORD CLEGG. Crown 8vo. zs. 6d,
16 LONGMANS & CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
Works of Fiction, Humour, &c. — continued.
Deland.— PHILIP AND HIS WIFE. By | Haggard.— Works by H. RIDER HAG-
MARGARET DELANO, Author of 'John
Ward '. Cr. Svo. , 6s.
Dougall.— Works by L. DOUGALL.
BEGGARS ALL. Crown 8vo., y. 6d.
WHAT NECESSITY KNOWS. Crown I
8vo., 6s.
Doyle. — Works by A. CONAN DOYLE.
iVliCAH CLARKE : a Tale of Monmouth's
Rebellion. With 10 Illustrations.
Cr. 8vo., y. 6d.
THE CAPTAIN OF THE POLESTAR, and
other Tales. Cr. Svo. , y. 6d.
THE REFUGEES : a Tale of the Hugue-
nots. With 25 Illustrations. Crown
Svo. , y. 6d.
THE SrARK-MuNRO LETTERS.
Svo., 6s.
Cr.
Farrar.— Works by F.
Dean of Canterbury.
FARRAR,
DARKNESS AND DAWN : or, Scenes in
the Days of Nero. An Historic Tale.
Cr. Svo., ys. 6d.
GATHERING CLOUDS : a Tale of the
Days of St. Chrysostom. 2 vols.
Svo, 28s.
Froude.— THE Two CHIEFS OF DUN-
BOY : an Irish Romance of the Last
Century. ByJ. A. FROUDE. Cr. Svo.,
3-r. 6d.
Fowler. — THE YOUNG PRETENDERS.
A Story of Child Life. By EDITH H.
FOWLER. With 12 Illustrations by
PHILIP BURNE-JONES. Crown Svo., 6s.
Gerard.— AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE.
By DOROTHEA GERARD. Cr. Svo., 6s.
Gilkes. — THE THING THAT HATH
BEEN: or, a Young Man's Mistake. By
A. H. GILKES, M.A. Crown Svo., 6s.
Haggard.— Works by H. RIDER HAG-
GARD.
JOAN HASTE. With 20 Illustrations.
Cr. Svo., 6s.
THE PEOPLE OF THE MIST. With 16
Illustrations. Crown Svo., 6s.
MONTEZUMA'S DAUGHTER. With 24
Illustrations. Crown Svo., 6s.
SHE. 32 Illustrations. Cr. Svo., 35. 6d.
ALLAN QUATERMAIN. With 31 Illus-
trations. Crown Svo., 3*. 6d.
MAIWA'S REVENGE. Crown Svo., is.
boards ; is. 6d. cloth.
COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. Cr. Svo.,
3.?. 6d.
CLEOPATRA. With 29
Crown Svo., y. 6d.
BEATRICE. Cr. Svo., 3.?. 6d.
ERIC BRIGHTEYES. With 51 Illustra
tions. Cr. Svo., y. 6d.
CARD — continued.
NADA THE LILY. With 23 Illustra-
tions. Cr. Svo., 3J. 6d.
ALLAN'S WIFE. With 34 Illustrations.
Crown Svo., 3^. 6d.
THE WITCH'S HEAD. With 16 Illus
trations. Crown Svo., 35. 6d.
MR. MEESON'S WILL. With 16 Illus-
trations. Crown Svo., y. 6d.
DAWN. With 16 Illustrations. Crown
Svo., y. 6d.
Haggard and Lang. — THE WORLD'S
DESIRE. By H. RIDER HAGGARD and
ANDREW LANG. With 27 Illustrations
by M. GREIFFENHAGEN. Cr. Svo. , y. 6d.
Harte. — IN THE CARQUINEZ WOODS,
and other Stories.
Cr. Svo., y. 6d.
By BRET HARTE.
Hornung.— THE UNBIDDEN GUEST.
By E. W. HORNUNG. Cr. Svo., 3*. 6d.
Lang.— A MONK OF FIFE : a Romance
of the Days of Jeanne D'Arc. Done
into English, from the Manuscript in
the Scots College of Ratisbon, by
ANDREW LANG. With Illustrations
and Initial Letters by SELWYN IMAGE.
Crown Svo, 6s.
Lemon. — MATTHEW FURTH. By IDA
LEMON. Crown Svo., 6s.
Lyall.— Works by EDNA LYALL, Author
of 'Donovan,' &c.
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SLANDER.
Fcp. Svo., is. sewed.
Presentation Edition. With 20 Illus-
trations by LANCELOT SPEED. Cr.
Svo., 2s. 6d. net.
DOREEN : The Story of a Singer. Cr.
Svo., 6s.
Matthews. — His FATHER'S SON : a
Novel of the New York Stock Ex-
change. By BRANDER MATTHEWS.
With Illus. Cr. Svo. , 6s.
Melville.— Works by G. J. WHYTE
MELVILLE.
The Gladiators.
The Interpreter.
Good for Nothing.
The Queen's Maries.
Holmby House.
Kate Coventry.
Digby Grand.
General Bounce.
Cr. Svo., is. 6d. each.
Oliph ant.— Works by Mrs. OLIPHANT.
MADAM. Cr. Svo., is. 6d.
IN TRUST. Cr. Svo., is. 6d.
Illustrations Payn.— Works by JAMES PAYN.
THE LUCK OF THE DARRELLS. Cr,
Svo., is. 6d.
THICKER THAN WATER. Cr. Svo.,
is. 6d.
LONGMANS & CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORK'S. 17
Works of Fiction, Humour, &c.
Phillipps-Wolley.— SNAP: a Legend
of the Lone Mountain. By C. PHIL-
continued.
LIPPS-WOLLEY. With 13 Illustrations
by H. G. WILLINK. Cr. 8vo., 3^. 6d.
Prince. — THE STORY OF CHRISTINE
ROCHEFORT. By HELEN CHOATE
PRINCE. Crown 8vo., 6j.
Quintana. — THE CID CAMPEADOR :
an Historical Romance. By D.
ANTONIO DE TRUEBA Y LA QUINTANA.
Translated from the Spanish by Henry
J. Gill, M.A., T.C.D. Crown 8vo, 6s.
Rhoscomyl. — THE JEWEL OF YNYS
GALON: being a hitherto unprinted
Chapter in the History of the Sea Rovers.
By OWEN RHOSCOMYL. Cr. 8vo. , 6s.
Robertson. — NUGGETS IN THE DEVIL'S
PUNCH BOWL, and other Australian
Tales. By ANDREW ROBERTSON. Cr.
8vo., y. 6d.
Sew ell. — Works by ELIZABETH M.
SEWELL.
A Glimpse of the World. Amy Herbert.
Laneton Parsonage. Cleve Hall.
Margaret Percival. Gertrude.
Katharine Ashton. Home Life.
The Earl's Daughter. After Life.
The Experience of Life. Ursula. Ivors.
Cr. 8vo., is. 6d. each cloth plain. 2s. 6d.
each cloth extra, gilt edges.
Stevenson. — Works by ROBERT Louis
STEVENSON.
STRANGE CASE OF DR. JEKYLL AND
MR. HYDE. Fcp. 8vo., is. sewed.
is. 6d. cloth.
THE DYNAMITER. Cr. 8vo. , y. 6d.
Stevenson and Osbourne.— THE
WRONG Box. By ROBERT Louis STE-
VENSON and LLOYD OSBOURNE. Cr.
8vo., y. 6d.
Suttner. — LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS
Die Waffen Nieder: The Autobiography
of Martha Tilling. By BERTHA VON
SUTTNER. Translated by T. HOLMES.
Cr. 8vo., is. 6d.
Crown
Crown
zs. 6d.
Crown
Trollope. — Works by ANTHONY TROL-
LOPE.
THE WARDEN. Cr. 8vo., is. 6d.
BARCHESTER TOWERS. Cr. 8vo., is. 6d.
TRUE, A, RELATION OF THE
TRAVELS AND PERILOUS ADVEN-
TURES OF MATHEW DUDGEON, Gentle-
man : Wherein is truly set down the
Manner of his Taking, the Long Time
of his Slavery in Algiers, and Means of
his Delivery. Written by Himself, and
now for the first time printed Cr. 8vo., y.
Walford.— Works by L. B. WALFORD.
Mr. SMITH : a 1'art of his Life. Crown
8vo., 2s. 6d.
THE BABY'S GRANDMOTHER.
8vo., 2j. 6d
COUSINS. Crown 8vo. zs. 6d.
TROUBLESOME DAUGHTERS.
8vo. , 2s. 6d.
PAULINE. Crown 8vo. zs. 6d.
DICK NET HER BY. Crown 8vo.
THE HISTORY OF A WEEK.
8vo. 2s. 6d.
A STIFF-NECKED GENERATION. Crown
8vo. '2s. 6d.
NAN, and other Stories. Cr. 8vo., zs. 6d.
THE MISCHIEF OF MONICA. Crown
8vo. , zs. 6d.
THE ONE GOOD GUEST. Cr. 8vo. zs. 6d.
' PLOUGHED,' and other Stories. Crown
8vo., 6s.
THE MATCHMAKER. Cr. 8vo., 6s.
West.— Works by B. B. WEST.
HALF-HOURS WITH THE MILLION-
AIRES : Showing how much harder it
is to spend a million than to make it.
Cr. 8vo., 6s.
SIR SIMON VANDEKPETTER, AND MIND-
ING HIS ANCESTORS. Two Reforma-
tions. Crown 8vo., 5*.
A FINANCIAL ATONEMENT. Cr.Svo.,
Wey man.— Works by S. J. WEYMAN.
THE HOUSE OF THE WOLF. Cr. 8vo.,
y. 6d.
A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE. Cr. 8vo., 6s.
THE RED COCKADE. Cr. 8vo. , 6s.
Popular Science (Natural History, &c.).
Butler. — OUR HOUSEHOLD INSECTS.
An Account of the Insect- Pests found
in Dwelling-Houses. By EDWARD A.
BUTLER, B.A., B.Sc. (Lond.). With
113 Illustrations. Crown 8vo., 6s.
Clodd.— A PRIMER OF EVOLUTION:
being a Popular Abridged Edition of
' The Story of Creation '. By EDWARD
CLODD. With Illus. Fcp. 8vo., is. 6d.
Furneaux.— Works by W. FURNEAUX.
BUTTERFLIES AND MOTHS (British).
With 12 coloured Plates and 241
Illustrations in the Text. Crown 8vo.,
I2J. 6d.
THE OUTDOOR WORLD ; or, The Young
Collector's Handbook. With 18
Plates, 16 of which are coloured,
and 54Q Illustrations in the Text.
Crown 8vo. , 75. 6d.
i8 LONGMANS &• CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
Popular Science (Natural History, &c.).
Graham. — COUNTRY PASTIMES FOR
BOYS. By P. ANDERSON GRAHAM.
With numerous Illustrations from Draw-
ings and Photographs. Crown 8vo., 6s.
Hartwig.-Works
HARTWIG.
by Dr. GEORGE
THE SEA AND ITS LIVING WONDERS.
With 12 Plates and 303 Woodcuts.
8vo., 7-r. net.
THE TROPICAL WORLD. With 8 Plates
and 172 Woodcuts. 8vo., js. net.
THE POLAR WORLD. With 3 Maps, 8
Plates and 85 Woodcuts. 8vo. , js. net.
THE SUBTERRANEAN WORLD. With
3 Maps an d 80 Woodcuts. 8vo. , js. net.
THE AERIAL WORLD. With Map, 8
Plates and 60 Woodcuts. 8vo. , 7* net.
Hayward.— BIRD NOTES.
IANE MARY HAYWARD.
By the late
Edited by
EMMA HUBBARD. With Frontispiece
and 15 Illustrations by G. E. LODGE.
Cr. 8vo., 6s.
Helmholtz.— POPULAR LECTURES ON
SCIENTIFIC SUBJECTS. By HERMANN
VON HELMHOLTZ. With 68 Woodcuts.
2 vols. Crown 8vo. , y. 6d. each.
Hudson. — BRITISH BIRDS. By W.
H. HUDSON. C.M.Z.S. With a Chap-
ter on Structure and Classification by
FRANK E. BEDDARD, F.R.S. With 17
Plates (8 of which are Coloured), and
over 100 Illustrations in the Text.
Crown 8vo., izs. 6d.
Proctor.— Works
PROCTOR.
by RICHARD A.
LIGHT SCIENCE FOR LEISURE HOURS.
Familiar Essays on Scientific Subjects.
3 vols. Crown 8vo. , 5*. each.
CHANCE AND LUCK: a Discussion of
the Laws of Luck, Coincidence,
Wagers, Lotteries and the Fallacies
of Gambling, &c. Cr. 8vo., ss.
boards, 2s. 6d. cloth.
ROUGH WAYS MADE SMOOTH. Fami-
liar Essays on Scientific Subjects.
Silver Library Edition. Cr. 8vo. , 3^. 6d.
PLEASANT WAYS IN SCIENCE. Cr.
8vo., 5-f. Silver Library Edition.
Crown 8vo. , 3-J. 6d.
Proctor. — Works by RICHARD A.
PROCTOR— contimted.
THE GREAT PYRAMID, OBSERVATORY,
TOMB AND TEMPLE. With Illustra-
tions. Crown 8vo., 55.
NATURE STUDIES. By R. A. PROCTOR,
GRANT ALLEN, A. WILSON, T.
FOSTER and E. CLODD. Crown
8vo. , 5-r. Sil. Lib. Ed. Cr. 8vo. , y. 6J.
LEISURE READINGS. By R. A. PROC-
TOR, E. CLODD, A. WILSON, T.
FOSTER, and A. C. RANYARD. Cr.
8vo., 5-r.
Stanley. — A FAMILIAR HISTORY
BIRDS. By E. STANLEY, D.D.,
merly Bishop of Norwich. With III
trations. Cr. 8vo., 35. 6d.
Wood.— Works by the Rev. J. G. We
HOMES WITHOUT HANDS : a Descrij
tion of the Habitation of Anim?
classed according to the Principle of
Construction. With 140 Illustrations.
8vo. , 7-r. net.
INSECTS AT HOME : a Popular Account
of British Insects, their Structure,
Habits and Transformations. With
700 Illustrations. 8vo., js. net.
INSECTS ABROAD : a Popular Account
of Foreign Insects, their Structure,
Habits and Transformations.
600 Illustrations. 8vo., ?s. net.
BIBLE ANIMALS : a Description o
every Living Creature mentioned in
the Scriptures. With 112 Illustra
tions. 8vo. , js, net.
PETLAND REVISITED. With 33 Illus-
trations. Cr. 8vo., 35. 6d.
OUT OF DOORS ; a Selection of
nal Articles on Practical Nat
History. With n Illustrations.
8vo., y. 6d.
STRANGE DWELLINGS : a Description
of the Habitations of Animals,
abridged from ' Homes without
Hands '. With 60 Illustrations. Cr.
8vo., y. 6d.
LONGMANS 6» CO. \S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS. 19
Works of Reference.
Longmans' GAZETTEER OF THE
WORLD. Edited by GEORGE G. CHIS-
HOLM, M. A. , B.Sc. , Fellow of the Royal
Geographical and Statistical Societies.
Imp. 8vo. £2 23. cloth, £2 I2J. 6d.
half-morocco.
Maunder 'a (Samuel) Treasuries.
BIOGRAPHICAL TREASURY. With Sup-
plement brought down to 1889. By
Rev. JAMES WOOD. Fcp. 8vo., 6s.
TREASURY OF NATURAL HISTORY : or,
Popular Dictionary of Zoology. With
900 Woodcuts. Fcp. 8vo. , 6s.
TREASURY OF GEOGRAPHY, Physical,
Historical, Descriptive, and Political.
With 7 Maps and 16 Plates. Fcp.
8vo., 6s.
THE TREASURY OF BIBLE KNOW-
LEDGE. By the Rev. J. AYRE, M.A.
With 5 Maps, 15 Plates, and 300
Woodcuts. Fcp. 8vo. , 6s.
HISTORICAL TREASURY: Outlines of
Universal History, Separate Histories
of all Nations. Fcp. 8vo. , 6s.
Maunder's (Samuel) Treasuries
— continued.
TREASURY OF KNOWLEDGE AND
LIBRARY OF REFERENCE. Com
prising an English Dictionary and
Grammar, Universal Gazetcer, Classi-
cal Dictionary, Chronology, Law
Dictionary, &c. Fcp. 8vo. , 6s.
SCIENTIFIC'AND LITERARY TREASURY.
Fcp. 8vo., 6s.
THE TREASURY OF BOTANY. Edited
by J. LINDLEY, F.R.S., and T.
MOORE, F.L.S. With 274 Wood-
cuts and 20 Steel Plates. 2 vols.
Fcp. 8vo. , I2J.
Roget.-THESAURUs OF ENGLISH WORDS
AND PHRASES. Classified and Ar-
ranged so as to Facilitate the Expression
of Ideas and assist in Literary Composi-
tion. By PETER MARK ROGET, M.D.,
F.R.S. Crown 8vo., IQJ. 6d.
Willich.— POPULAR TABLES for giving
information for ascertaining the value 01
Lifehold, Leasehold, and Church Pro-
perty, the Public Funds, &c. By
CHARLES M. WILLICH. Edited by H.
BENCE ]ONES. Crown 8vo., IQJ. 6J.
Children'
Crake.— Works by Rev. A. D. CRAKE.
EDWY THE FAIR; or, the First Chro-
nicle of ^Escendune. Crown 8vo. , 2s.6d.
ALFGARTHE DANE: or.theSecond Chro-
nicle of ^Escendune. Cr. 8vo. , £j. &d.
THE RIVAL HEIRS: being the Third
and Last Chronicle of ^Escendune.
Cr. 8vo. , 2s. 6d.
THE HOUSE OF WALDERNE. A Tale
of the Cloister and the Forest in the
Days of the Barons' Wars. Crown
8vo. , 2s. 6d.
BRIAN FITZ-COUNT. A Story of Wal-
lingford Castle and Dorchester Abbey.
Cr. 8vo., 2J. 6d.
Lang. — Works edited by ANDREW LANG.
THE BLUE FAIRY BOOK. With 138
Illustrations. Crown 8vo. , 6s.
THE RED FAIRY BOOK. With 100
Illustrations. Cr. 8vo., •">*.
THE GREEN FAIRY BOOK. With 101
Illustrations. Crown 8vo., 6s.
THE YELLOW FAIRY BOOK. With 104
Illustrations. Crown 8vo., 6s.
THE BLUE POETRY BOOK. With 100
Illustrations. Crown 8vo., 6s.
THE BLUE POETRY BOOK. School
Edition, without Illustrations. Fcp.
8vo. , 2s. 6d.
THE TRUE STORY BOOK. With 66
Illustrations. Crown 8vo., 6.r.
s Books.
Lang.— Works edited by ANDREW LANG
— con tin ued.
THE RED TRUE STORY BOOK. With
100 Illustrations. Crown 8vo., 6j.
Meade.— Works by L. T. MEADE.
DADDY'S BOY. Illustrated. Crown
8vo. , y. 6d.
DEB AND THE DUCHESS. Illustrated.
Crown 8vo., y. 6d.
THE BERESFORD PRIZE. Crown 8vo.,
y. 6d.
Molesworth.— Works by Mrs. MOLES-
WORTH.
SILVERTHORNS. Illustrated. Cr. 8vo.,sr.
NEIGHBOURS. Illus. Crown8vo.,2j.6</.
Stevenson.— A CHILD'S GARDEN OF
VERSES. By ROBERT Louis STEVENSON.
Small fcp. 8vo., 5^.
Upton.— THE ADVENTURES OF Two
DUTCH DOLLS AND A 'GOLLIWOGG'.
Illustrated by FLORENCE K. UPTON,
with Words by BERTHA UPTON. With
31 Coloured Plates and numerous Illus-
trations in the Text. Oblong 410. , 6s.
Wordsworth.— THE SNOW GARDEN,
and other Fairy Talcs for Children. By
ELIZABETH WORDSWORTH. With Il-
lustrations by TREVOR H ADDON. Cr
8vo., S.T.
20 LONtiMANS & CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORK'S.
Longmans' Series of Books for Girls.
Crown 8vo., price 2s. 6d. each
ATELIER (THE) Du LYS : or an
Student in the Reign of Terror.
BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
MADEMOISELLE MORI.
THAT CHILD.
UNDER A CLOUD.
THE FIDDLER OF LUGAU.
A CHILD OF THE REVOLUTION.
HESTER'S VENTURE.
IN THE OLDEN TIME.
THE YOUNGER SISTER.
Art
By
THE THIRD Miss ST. QUENTIN.
Mrs. MOLESWORTH.
THE PALACE IN THE GARDEN. Illus-
trated. By Mrs. MOLESWORTH.
ATHERSTONE PRIORY. By L. N. COMYN.
THE STORY OF A SPRING MORNING, &c.
By Mrs. MOLESWORTH. Illustrated.
NEIGHBOURS. By Mrs. MOLESWORTH.
VERY YOUNG; and QUITE ANOTHER
STORY. By JEAN INGELOW.
CAN THIS BE LOVE ? By Louis A. Parr.
KEITH DERAMORE. By the Author of
' Miss Molly '.
SIDNEY. By MARGARET DELANO.
LAST WORDS TO GIRLS ON LIFE AT
SCHOOL AND AFTER SCHOOL. By
Mrs. W. GREY.
STRAY THOUGHTS FOR GIRLS. By
LUCY H. M. SOULSBY. i6mo.,
is. 6d. net.
The Silver
CROWN 8vo. y. 6d.
Arnold's (Sir Edwin) Seas and Lands.
With 71 Illustrations, y. 6d.
Bagehot's (W.) Biographical Studies.
35. 6d.
Bagehot's (W.) Economic Studies. y. 6d.
Bagehot's (W.) Literary Studies. 3
vols. y. 6d. each. With Portrait.
Baker's (Sir S. W.) Eight Years in
Ceylon. With 6 Illustrations. 3^. 6d.
Baker's (Sir S. W.) Rifle and Hound in
Ceylon. With 6 Illustrations. 3.?. 6d.
Baring-Gould's (Rev. S.) Curioas Myths
of the Middle Ages. y. 6d.
Baring-Gould's (Rev. S.) Origin and
Development of Religious Belief. 2
vols. y. 6d. each.
Becker's (Prof.) Callus : or, Roman Scenes
in the Time of Augustus. Illus. 3.$. 6d.
Becker's (Prof.) Charicles: or, Illustra-
tions of the Private Life of the Ancient
Greeks. Illustrated. y. 6d.
Bent's (J. T.) The Ruined Cities of Ma-
shoanland: being a Record of Ex-
cavation and Exploration in 1891.
With 117 Illustrations, y. 6d.
Brassey's (Lady) A Voyage 'in the ' Sun-
beam '. With 66 Illustrations, y. 6d.
Clodd's (E.) Story of Creation : a Plain
Account of Evolution. With 77 Illus-
trations, y. 6d.
Conybeare (Rev. W. J.) and Howson's
(Very Rev. J. S.) Life and Epistles of
St. Paul. 46 Illustrations. y. 6d.
Dougall's(L.) Beggars All; a Novel. y.6d.
Doyle's (A. Conan) Micah Clarke : a Tale
of Monmouth's Rebellion. 10 Illus.
y. 6d.
Doyle's (A. Conan) The Captain of the
Polestar, and other Tales, y. 6d.
Doyle's (A. Conan) The Refugees : A
Tale of The Huguenots. With
25 Illustrations. y. 6d.
Library.
EACH VOLUME.
Froude's (J. A.) Short Studies on Great
Subjects. 4 vols. y. 6d. each.
Froude's (J. A.) Caesar : a Sketch. 3-r. 6d.
Froude's (J. A.) Thomas Carlyle: a
History of his Life.
1795-1835. 2 vols. 7J.
1834-1881. 2 vols. 7.?.
Froude's ( J. A.) The Two Chiefs of :
boy: an Irish Romance of the
Century, y. 6d.
Froude's (J. A.) The History of Englai
from the Fall of Wolsey to the
of the Spanish Armada. 12
y. 6d. each.
Froude's (J. A.) The English in Irelanc
3 vols. los. 6d.
Froude's (J. A.) The Spanish Story
the Armada, and other Essays. y. 6d.
Gleig's (Rev. G. R.) Life of the Duke of
Wellington. With Portrait. 3.?. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) She : A History of
Adventure. 32 Illustrations. y. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Allan Quatermain.
With 20 Illustrations. 3.?. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Colonel Quaritch,
V. C. : a Tale of Country Life. y. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Cleopatra. With 29
Full-page Illustrations, y. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Eric Brighteyes.
With 51 Illustrations. y. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Beatrice. 3^. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Allan's Wife. With
34 Illustrations, y. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) The Witch's He
With Illustrations. y. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Mr. Meeson's Will.
With Illustrations, y. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) Dawn. With 16 Illus-
trations. 35. 6d.
Haggard's (H. R.) and Lang's (A.) The
World's Desire. With 27 Illus. y. 6d.
LONGMANS & CO.'S STANDARD AND GEXRRAL U'OKfCS.
The Silver Library— continued.
Haggard's (H. R.) Nada the Lily. With
Illustrations by C. H. M. K.ERR. y. 6d.
Harte's (Bret) In the Carquinez Woods,
and other Stories, y. 6d.
Helmholtz's (Hermann von) Popular Lec-
tures on Scientific Subjects. With 68
Woodcuts. 2 vols. 3.?. 6d. each.
Hornung's (E. W.)The Unbidden Guest.
y. 6d.
Howitt's (W.) Visits to Remarkable
Places. 80 Illustrations, y. 6d.
JefTeries'(R.)The Story of My Heart: My
Autobiography. With Portrait, y. 6d.
Jefferies' (R.) Field and Hedgerow.
With Portrait. 3*. 6d.
Jefferies' (R.) Red Deer. 17 Illus. y. 6d.
Jeflferies' (R.) Wood Magic: a Fable.
y. 6d.
Jefferies' (R. The Toilers of the Field.
With Portrait from the Bust in Salis-
bury Cathedral. 3^. 6d.
Knight's(E. F.)The Cruise of the ' Alerte' :
a Search for Treasure on the Desert
Island of Trinidad. 2 Maps and 23
Illustrations. 3^. 6d.
Knight's (E. F.) Where Three Empires
Meet : a Narrative of Recent Travel in
Kashmir, Western Tibet, etc. With
a Map and 54 Illust. y. 6d.
Lang's (A.) Angling Sketches. 20 Illus.
y. 6d.
Lang's (A.) Custom and Myth : Studies
of Early Usage and Belief. 3.?. 6d.
Lees(J. A.)and^Clutterbuck's (W.J.)B.C.
1887, A Ramble in British Columbia.
With Maps and 75 Illustrations. 3^. 6d.
Macaulay's (Lord) Essays and Lays of
Ancient Rome. With Portrait and
Illustrations, y. 6d.
Maclecd's (H. D.) The Elements of Bank-
ing. 35. 6d.
Marshman's (J. C.) Memoirs of Sir Henry
Havelock. 35. 6d.
Max M tiller's (F.) India, what can it
teach us? 3.?. 6d.
Max Mailer's (F.) Introduction to the
Science of Religion, y. 6d.
Merivale's (Dean) History of the Romans
under the Empire. 8 vols. y. 6i/. ea.
Mill's (J. S.) Political Economy, y. 6d.
Mill's (J. S.) System of Logic. 3*. 6d.
Milner's(Geo.) Country Pleasures. y.6d.
Nansen's (F.) The First Crossing of
Greenland. With Illustrations and
a Map. y. 6d.
Phillipps-Wolley's (C.) Snap : a Legend
of the Lone Mountain. With 13
Illustrations, y. 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) The Orbs Around Us.
Essays on the Moon and Planets,
Meteors and Comets, the Sun and
Coloured Pairs of Suns. 3.?. 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) The Expanse of Heaven.
Essays on the Wonders of the Firma-
ment. 3J. 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) Other Worlds than
Ours. y. 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) Rough Ways made
Smooth, y. 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) Pleasant Ways in
Science, y. 6d.
Proctor's (R~. A.) Myths and Marvels
of Astronomy. 3J. 6d.
Proctor's (R. A.) Nature Studies, y. 6d.
Rossetti's (Maria F.) A Shadow of Dante:
an Essay towards studying Himself,
his World and his Pilgrimage. 3^. 6d.
Smith's (R. Bos worth) Carthage and the
Carthaginians, y. 6if.
Stanley's (Bishop) Familiar History of
Birds. 160 Illustrations, y. 6d.
Stevenson (Robert Louis) and Osbourne's
(Lloyd) The Wrong Box. y. 6d.
Stevenson (Robt. Louis) and Steventon's
(Fanny van de Grift) More New A rab'an
Nights.— The Dynamiter, y. 6d.
Weyman's (Stanley J.) The BOOM of
the Wolf: a Romance. 3^. 6d.
Y/ood's (Rev. J. G.) Petland Revisited.
With 33 Illustrations. 3J. 6d.
Wood's (Rev. J. G.) Strange Dwellings.
With 60 Illustrations, y. 6d.
Wood's (Rev. J. G.) Out of Doors. 1 1
Illustrations. 3^. 6d.
Cookery, Domestic
Acton.— MODERN COOKERY. By EU/.A
ACTON. With 150 Woodcuts. Fcp.
8vo., 4J. 6d.
Bull.— Works by THOMAS BULL, M.D.
HINTS TO MOTHERS ON THE MANAGE-
MENT OF THEIR HEALTH DURING
THE PERIOD OF PREGNANCY. Fcp.
8vo., is. 6d.
THE MATERNAL MANAGEMENT OF
CHILDREN IN HEALTH ANDDISEASE.
Fcp. 8vo., is. 6d.
Management, &c.
De Salts.— Works by Mrs. DE SALIS.
CAKES AND CONFECTIONS A LA MODE.
Fcp. 8vo., is. 6d.
DOGS: a Manual for Amateurs. Fcp.
8vo., TJ. 6d.
DRESSED GAME AND POULTRY X LA
MODE. Fcp. 8vo., is. 6d.
DRESSED VEGETABLES X LA MODE.
Fcp. 8vo., is. 6d.
DRINKS X LA MODE. Fcp. 8vo., is. 6d.
ENTRIES X LA MODE. Fcp. 8vo. , is. 6d.
22 LONGMANS & CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
Cookery, Domestic Management, be.— continued.
De Sails.— Works by Mrs. DE SALIS
continued.
FLORAL DECORATIONS. Fcp. 8vo. , is. 6d.
GARDENING A LA MODE. Part I.
Vegetables, is. 6d. ; Part II. Fruits,
is. (3d.
NATIONAL VIANDS X LA MODE. Fcp.
8vo. , is. 6d.
NEW-LAID EGGS : Hints for Amateur
Poultry Rearers. Fcp. 8vo., ts. 6d.
OYSTE K s X L A MODE. Fcp. 8vo. , i s. 6d.
PUDDINGS AND PASTRY A LA MODE.
Fcp. 8vo. , is. 6d.
S A VOUR IES A LA MODE. Fcrj. 8 vo. , i s. 6d.
SOUPS AND DRESSED FISH A LA MODE.
Fcp. 8vo., is. 6d.
SWEETS AND SUPPER DISHES X LA
MODE. Fcp. 8vo., is. 6d.
TEMPTING DISHES FOR SMALL IN-
COMES. Fcp. 8vo., is. 6d.
WRINKLES AND NOTIONS FOR EVERY
HOUSEHOLD. Cr. 8vo., is. 6d.
Lear. — MAIGRE COOKERY. By H. L.
SIDNEY LEAR. i6mo., ss.
Poole.— COOKERY FOR THE DIABETIC
By W. H. and Mrs. POOLE. With
Preface by Dr. PAVY. Fcp. 8vo., 2s. 6d.
Walker.— Works by JANE H. WALKER,
L.R.C.P.
A HANDBOOK FOR MOTHERS: being
Simple Hints to Women on the
Management of their Health during
Pregnancy and Confinement, together
with Plain Directions as to the Care
of Infants. Cr. 8vo., 2s. 6d.
A BOOK FOR EVERY WOMAN. Part i.
The Management of Children in
Health and out of Health. Crown
8vo., 2s. 6d.
Miscellaneous and Critical Works.
Allingham.— VARIETIES IN PROSE.
By WILLIAM ALLINGHAM. 3 vols. Cr.
8vo, i8s. (Vols. i and 2, Rambles, by
PATRICIUS WALKER. Vol. 3, Irish
Sketches, etc. )
Armstrong.— ESSAYS AND SKETCHES.
By EDMUND J.ARMSTRONG. Fcp. 8vo.,5J.
Bagehot.— LITERARY STUDIES. By
WALTER BAGEHOT. With Portrait.
3 vols. Crown 8vo. , 3*. 6d. each.
Baring-Gould.— CURIOUS MYTHS OF
THE MIDDLE AGES. By Rev. S.
BARING-GOULD. Crown 8vo. , 3*. 6d.
Battye. — PICTURES IN PROSE OF
NATURE, WILD SPORT, AND HUMBLE
LIFE. By AUBYN TREVOR BATTYE,
F. L. S. , F. Z. S. Crown 8 vo. , dr.
Baynes.— SHAKESPEARE STUDIES, AND
OTHER ESSAYS. By the late THOMAS
SPENCER BAYNES, LL.B., LL.D.
With a biographical Preface by Prof.
LEWIS CAMPBELL. Crown 8vo. , 75. 6d.
Boyd ('A. K. H. B.').- Works by
A. K. H. BOYD, D.D., LL.D.
And see MISCELLANEOUS THEOLO-
GICAL WORKS, p. 24.
AUTUMN HOLIDAYS OF A COUNTRY
PARSON. Crown 8vo. , y. 6d.
COMMONPLACE PHILOSOPHER. Crown
8vo. , 3-r. 6d.
CRITICAL ESSAYS OF A COUNTRY
PARSON Crown 8vo., 3_r. 6d.
EAST COAST DAYS AND MEMORIES.
Crown 8vo. , y. 6d.
Boyd (' A. K. H. B.').— Works by A.
K. H. BOYD, D.D., LL.D. — continued.
LANDSCAPES, CHURCHES AND MORA-
LITIES. Crown 8vo. , y. 6d.
LEISURE HOURS IN TOWN. Crown
8vo., y. bd.
LESSONS OFMiDDLE AGE. Cr.8vo.,3j.6d?
OUR LITTLE LIFE. Two Series. Cr.
8vo. , y. 6d. each.
OUR HOMELY COMEDY: ANDTRAGEDY.
Crown 8vo. , y. 6d.
RECREATIONS OF A COUNTRY PARSON.
Three Series. Cr. 8vo. , y. 6d. each.
Also First Series. Popular Ed. 8vo., 6d.
Butler. — Works by SAMUEL BUTLER.
EREWHON. Cr. 8vo., ss.
THE FAIR HAVEN. A Work in Defence
of the Miraculous Element in our
Lord's Ministry. Cr. 8vo., js. 6d.
LIFE AND HABIT. An Essay after a
Completer View of Evolution. Cr.
8vo., js. 6d
EVOLUTION, OLD AND NEW. Cr. 8vo.,
io.r. 6d.
ALPS AND SANCTUARIES OF PIEDMONT
AND CANTON TICINO. Illustrated.
Pott 410. , IQS. 6d.
LUCK, OR CUNNING, AS THE MAIN
MEANS OF ORGANIC MODIFICATION?
Cr. 8vo., 7.?. 6d.
Ex VOTO. An Account of the Sacro
Monte or New Jerusalem at Varallo-
Sesia. Crown 8vo., los. 6d.
LONGMANS & CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS. 23
Miscellaneous a.id Critical Works —continued.'
Gwilt. — AN ENCYCLOPAEDIA OF ARCHI-
TECTURE. By JOSEPH GWILT, F.S.A.
Illustrated with more than noo Engrav-
ings on Wood. Revised (1888), with
Alterations and Considerable Additions
by WY ATT PAPWORTH. 8vo., £2 125. 6d.
Jefferies.— Works by R. JEFFERIES.
FIELD AND HEDGEROW : last Essays.
Wilh Portrait. Crown 8vo. , y. td.
THE STORY OF MY HEART : With
Portrait and New Preface by C. J.
LONGMAN. Crown 8vo., y. 6d.
RED DKER. ijlllusts. Cr. 8vo., 3*. 6d.
THE TOILERS OF THE FIELD. With
Portrait. Crown 8vo., 3*. 6d.
WOOD MAGIC. With Frontispiece and
Vignette by E. V. B. Cr. 8vo., 3.5. 6d.
THOUGHTS FROM THE WRITINGS OF
RICHARD JEFFERIES. Selected by
H. S. HOOLE WAYLEN. i6mo.,3^. 6rf.
Johnson.— THE PATENTEE'S MANUAL:
a Treatise on the Law and Practice of
Letters Patent. By J. & J. H. JOHN-
SON, Patent Agents, &c. 8vo. , los. 6d.
Lang. — Works by ANDREW LANG.
LETTERS TO DEAD AUTHORS. Fcp.
8vo. , 2s. 6d. net.
LETTERS ON LITERATURE. Fcp. 8vo.,
2s. 6d. net.
BOOKS AND BOOKMEN. With 19
Illustrations. Fcp. 8vo. , 2s. 6d. net.
OLD FRIENDS. Fcp. 8vo., 2s. 6d. net.
COCK LANE AND COI:MON SENSE.
Fcp. 8vo., dr. 6d. net.
Laurie.— HISTORICAL SURVEY OF PRE-
CHRISTIAN EDUCATION. By S. S.
LAURIR, A.M., LL.D. Crown 8vo., 12*.
Leonard.— THE CAMEL : Its Uses and
Management. By Major ARTHUR GLYN
LEONARD. Royal 8vo., ais. net.
Macfarren.— LECTURES ON HARMONY.
By Sir GEO. A. MACFARREN. 8vo., iar.
Max Mliller.— Works by F. MAX
MULLER.
INDIA : WHAT CAN IT TEACH us ? Cr.
8vo., 3^-. 6d.
CHIPS FROM A GERMAN WORKSHOP.
Vol. I., Recent Essays and Addresses.
Cr. 8vo., 6s. 6d. net.
Vol. II., Biographical Essays. Cr.
8vo., 6s. 6d. net.
Vol. III., Essays on Language nnd
Literature. Cr. 8vo. . 6r. 6d. net.
Vol. IV., Essays on Mythology and
Folk Lore. Crown 8vo., 8s. 6d.
Miliier.— Works by GEORGE MILNER.
COUNTRY PLEASURES: the Chronicle of
a Year chiefly in a Garden. Cr. 8vo. ,
y. 6d.
STUDIES OF NATURE ON THE COAST
OF ARRAN. With Illustrations by
W.NoicLjoHNSON. Cr.8vo.,6i. 6rf.net.
Poore.— ESSAYS ON RURAL HYGIKNK.
By GEORGE VIVIAN POORE, M.D.,
F.R.C.P. With 13 Illustrations. Cr.
8vo., 6s. 6d.
Proctor.— Works by R. A. PROCTOR.
STRENGTH AND HAPPINESS. With 9
Illustrations. Crown 8vo., $s.
STRENGTH: How to get Strong and
keep Strong, with Chapters on Row-
ing and Swimming, Fat, Age, and the
Waist. Withglllus. Cr. 8vo, 2s.
Richardson.— NATIONAL HEALTH.
A Review of the Works of Sir Eduin
Chadxvick, K.C.B. By Sir B. W.
RICHARDSON, M.D. Cr. 8vo., 4^. 6d.
Rpssetti.— A SHADOW OF DANTE : be-
ing an Essay towards studying Himself,
his World, and his Pilgrimage. By
MARIA FRANCESCA ROSSETTI. Cr.
8vo., ioj. 6d. Cheap Edition, 3.'. 6,/.
Solovyoff.— A MODERN PRIESTESS OF
Isis (MADAME BLAVATSKY). Abridged
and Translated on Behalf of the Society
for Psychical Research from the Russian
Of VSEVOLODSERGYEEVICH SOLOVYFK.
By WALTER LEAF, Lilt. D. With
Appendices. Crown 8vo. , 6s.
Stevens.— ON THE STOWAGE OK SHIPS
AND THEIR CARGOES. With Informa-
tion regarding Freights, Charter- Parties,
&c. By ROHKKT WHITE STKVI NS,
Associate Member of the Institute of
Naval Architects. 8vo. sis.
VanDyke.-ATEXT-BooKOFTHK HIS-
TORY OF PAINTING. By JOHN C. VAN
DYKE, of Rutgers College, U.S. \Viih
Frontispiece and 109 Illustrations in the
Text. Crown 8vo. . 6s.
"West— XViixs, AND How Nor TO
MAKE THEM. With a Selection of
Leading Cases. By B. B. WEST. Fcp.
8vo. , 2s. 6d.
24 LONGMANS cSr1 CO.'S STANDARD AND GENERAL WORKS.
Miscellaneous Theological Works.
** For Chiirch of England and Roman Catholic Works see MESSRS. LONGMANS & Co. 's
Special Catalogues.
Macdonald.— Works by GEORGE M AC-
Balfour.— THE FOUNDATIONS OF BE-
LIEF : being Notes Intooductory to the
Study of Theology. By the Right Hon.
ARTHUR J. BALFOUR.M.P. 8vo.,i2J. 6d.
Boy d.— Works by A. K. H. BOYD, D.D.
COUNSEL AND COMFORT FROM A CITY
PULPIT. Crown 8vo., 3.?. 6d.
SUNDAY AFTERNOONS IN THE PARISH
CHURCH OF A SCOTTISH UNIVERSITY
CITY. Crown 8vo., y. 6d.
CHANGED ASPECTS OF UNCHANGED
TRUTHS. Crown 8vo., 3*. 6d.
GRAVER THOUGHTS OF A COUNTRY
PARSON. Three Series. Crown 8vo.,
3^. 6d. each.
PRESENT DAY THOUGHTS. Crown 8vo. ,
y. 6d.
SEASIDE MUSINGS. Cr. 8vo., y. 6d.
'To MEET THE DAY' through the
Christian Year ; being a Text of Scrip-
ture, with an Original Meditation and
a Short Selection in Verse for Every
Day. Crown 8vo., ^s. 6d.
OCCASIONAL AND IMMEMORIAL DAYS.
Cr. 8vo. , 7-r. 6d.
De La Saussaye. — A MANUAL OF
THE SCIENCE OF RELIGION. By Prof.
CHANTEPIE DE LA SAUSSAYE. Crown
8vo.. i2j. 6d.
Kalisch. — Works by M. M. KALISCH,
BIBLE STUDIES. Part I. The Pro-
phecies of Balaam. 8vo., ioj. 6d. Part
II. The Book of Jonah. 8vo., IQJ. 6d.
COMMENTARY ON THE OLD TESTAMENT:
with a new Translation. Vol. I.
Genesis. 8vo., iSs. Or adapted for the
General Reader, izs. Vol. II. Exodus.
155. Or adapted for the General
Reader, izs. Vol. III. Leviticus, Part
I. 155. Or adapted for the General
Reader. 8s. Vol. IV. Leviticus, Part
II. 15^-. Or adapted for the General
Reader. 8s.
Martineau.— Works by JAMES MAR-
TINEAU, D.D., LL.D.
HOURS OF THOUGHT
ON SACRED
THINGS: Sermons. 2 Vols. Crown
3vo. , js. 6d. each.
ENDEAVOURS AFTER THE CHRISTIAN
LIFE. Discourses. Cr. 8vo. , 75. 6d.
THE SEAT OF AUTHORITY IN RELIGION.
8vo. , I4.T.
ESSAYS, REVIEWS, AND ADDRESSES. 4
Vols. Crown 8vo. , js. 6d. each. 1.
Personal ; Political. II. Ecclesiastical ;
Historical. III. Theological; Philo-
sophical. IV. Academical ; Religious.
HOME PRAYERS, with Two Services for
Public Worship. Crown 8vo. y. 6d.
DONALD, LL.D.
UNSPOKEN SERMONS. Three Series.
Crown 8vo., 3.$. 6d. each.
THE MIRACLES OF OUR LORD. Crown
8vo. , 35. 6d.
A BOOK OF STRIFE, IN THE FORM OF
THE DIARY OF AN OLD SOUL : Poems
i8mo. , 6.r.
Max Mailer.— Works by F. MAX
MULLER.
HIBBERT LECTURES ON THE ORIGIN
AND GROWTH OF RELIGION, as illus-
trated by the Religions of India.
Crown 8vo. , 75. 6d.
INTRODUCTION TO THE SCIENCE OF
RELIGION : Four Lectures delivered at
the Roval Institution. Cr. 8vo. ,3^. 6d,
NATURAL RELIGION. The Gifford
Lectures, delivered before the Uni-
versity of Glasgow in 1888. Cr. 8vo.,
los. 6d.
PHYSICAL RELIGION. The Gifford
Lectures, delivered before the Uni-
versity of Glasgow in 1890. Cr. 8vo.,
-LOS. 6d.
ANTHROPOLOGICAL RELIGION. The Gif-
ford Lectures, delivered before the
University of Glasgow in 1891. Cr.
8vo., ioj. 6d.
THEOSOPHY OR PSYCHOLOGICAL RELI-
GION. The Gifford Lectures, delivered
before theUniversityofGlasgowini892.
Cr. 8vo., los. 6d.
THREE LECTURES ON THE VEDANTA
PHILOSOPHY, delivered at the Royal
Institution in March, 1894. 8vo. , 5;.
Phillips.— THE TEACHING OF THE VE-
DAS. What Light does it Throw on the
Origin and Development of Religion ?
ByM AURICE PHILLIPS, London Mission,
Madras. Crown 8vo., 6s.
Romanes.— THOUGHTS ON RELIGION.
By the latr GKORGE J. ROMANES, author
of ' Darwm and After Darwin,' ..(<c.
Crown 8vo, 4.?. 6d.
SUPERNATURAL RELIGION: an
Inquiry into the Reality of Divine Revela-
tion. 3 vols. 8vo. , 36.?.
REPLY (A)To DR.LIGHTFOOT'S ESSAYS.
By the Author of ' Supernatural Re-
ligion '. 8vo. , 6s.
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO ST. PETER:
a Study. By the Author of ' Super-
natural Religion '. 8vo., 6;.
Thorn.— A SPIRITUAL FAITH. Ser-
mons. By JOHN HAMILTON TIIOM.
With a Memorial Preface by JAMES
MARTINEAU, D.D. With Portrait.
Crown 8vo. 5-r.
50,000—12/95.
ABERDEEN UNIVERSITY PRESS.-
PQ
4390
R7
1894
Rossetti, Maria Francesca
A shadow of Dante
PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE
CARDS OR SLIPS FROM THIS POCKET
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY