"Cacciàrli il oiel, per non esser men belli, Nè lo profondo inferno li riceve

Che alonna gloria i rei avrebber di elli."*

The biblical foundation of this representation rests upon Rev. iii. 15, 16: "I would thou wert cold or hot. So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth." The names of these contemptible beings have been lost; they are never spoken of. Hence Virgil exclaims to Dante,

“Non ragionam di lor, ma guarda e passa!";

He recognizes but one shade, that of one of his cotemporaries, who from fear permitted himself to be led astray into the "great refusal," (il gran rifinto.) Commentators have generally understood this to refer to Pope Celestine V., who knew nothing of the government of the Church, and took no interest in it, and who was hence easily persuaded by his cunning successor, Boniface VIII., to abdicate the papal power only a few months after his election in the year 1294, and to retire again to his quiet monkish life. If this interpretation be correct, Dante comes here in direct collision with his Church, which has enrolled Celestine among its saints.

The poet, in company with Virgil, passes rapidly by these miserable beings tormented by flies and wasps, their truest representatives. He is then, in sleep, safely transported across Acheron by a divine miracle; and a boundless cry of woe, sounding up from the deep abyss, announces to him that now he is indeed in Hell. The first circle, which he describes in the fourth song, is Limbus, the abode, according to the doctrines of the Romish Church, of unbaptized children and of heathen, and hence of Virgil also. Here the fathers too of the old covenant originally abode, but were released and raised to blessedness by Christ, when he descended in triumph into Hell, i. e. into this limbus patrum, between his death and his resurrection. Among these, Dante draws attention to those (v. 55 ff.) who represent the different stages of develop

ment in the hope of the Messianic salvation, namely, Adam, Abel, Enoch, Moses, Abraham, Jacob, (together with Rachel and his the first partakers of the everlasting salvachildren,) and lastly David. These became tion, but only after the completion of the

atonement.

In the first circle we do not yet meet with sin properly so called and fully developed, for this can only be perfectly unfolded in opposition to the positive and written law of God, and against the preached and known grace of Christianity. These are yet in the natural state of man as affected by original sin, but at the same time endowed also with a certain natural virtuousness, and are such as have not yet come into any contact with the Church. Their condition hence is only that of negative punishment, the being deprived of seeing God, (poena damni,) the absence of blessedness, and an indefinite longing for it. The poet first meets with a forest-like crowd of unbaptized children and undistinguished heathen. But he soon perceives in the distance those of the heathen world who were "rich in honor," the heroes of natural virtue. A glimmer of light beams around them, but it is only the reflection of their own glory, this highest aim of the heathen according to the maxim of Cicero: "Optimus quisque maximè gloria ducitur." So also in the other world honor is still the element in which they live, and hence they are constantly complimenting one another, enjoying themselves in the remembrance of their glorious deeds. Hence their countenances also bear the stamp of a lofty self-feeling, and a stoical indifference, which is neither joy nor sorrow. He first sees the shades of the four poets, Homer, Horace, Ovid, and Lucan. So soon as these perceive Virgil again, they bow themselves reverently before this their colleague and exclaim:

"Onorate l'altissimo poeta !" After a short conversation they also receive Dante into their midst as the sixth of the tuneful band. Next in order they reach the heroes and sages of antiquity, who remain forever upon an open and verdant oasis, the reflection of Elysium:

"With slow and solemn eyes, And great authority in their countenance, Who speak but seldom with soft,pleasant voices."

Here he sees the Trojan heroes, Hector, Eneas, and then their descendant Cæsar, with other heroes and heroines of eternal Rome; and among them also, though apart by himself, the magnanimous Mohammedan, Saladin; lastly also the philosophers, who stand highest. The leader of the band is Aristotle, the pinnacle of all extra-Christian wisdom, according to the conception of the middle ages. Dante does not mention him by name, because the whole world is supposed to know him. He merely designates him as "the master of those who know," to whom all pay the tribute of admiration and reverence. Nearest to him stand Socrates and Plato, and then in proper gradation the other worldsages of Greece and Rome. The series ends with Averrois, the Arabian expounder of Aristotle.

From this region of noble heathen, Dante with his companion now descends to ever deeper and heavier sins and severer punishments, until he reaches the middle point of the earth, the seat of the absolute bad. In the lowest circle sit the traitors. He divides these into such as betrayed their blood-relations, those who were traitors to their father-land, to confidants, and to benefactors. The first of these divisions is hence called Caina, from Cain, the murderer of his brother; the second Antenora, from Antenor, the betrayer of his Trojan father-land; the third Ptolemæa, (Tolemea,) either from Ptolemy the Egyptian king, who betrayed Pompey when fleeing to him for protection, or more probably from Ptolemy who betrayed Simon and his son at a feast, (1 Macc. xvi. 15–17;) and lastly Judecca, from Judas Iscariot. Here

are found Cassius and Brutus, the murderers of Cæsar, the betrayers of their human benefactor. Dante regards them as both offenders against divine arrangements, and transgressors against the Roman empire, in which he recognizes a divine order and the type of the Roman papacy. Still more culpable than these is Judas, the betrayer of his heavenly benefactor, the offender against the visible likeness of the invisible Divinity. Lastly, sunk to the lowest depth, is Satan, the emperor of Hell, the traitor towards God himself. He is represented as a hideous monster, half immersed in a frozen lake, the image of his own life-element, absolute selfishness, with three faces, one red,

one pale, and one yellow, referring* as some suppose to three sins which concentrate themselves in him, but according to others, to the three grand divisions of the world as then known, over which his dominion extends; with six weeping eyes, every mouth crushing a sinner, but most grievously the traitor Judas; and with three pairs of plumeless, bat-like wings, which, constantly flapping, bear the pestilential breath of seduction into all regions of the world.

In the presence of such a horrible monster even Virgil becomes fearful and afraid, and bearing his protégé, slides down the shaggy, icy sides of the monster, who still in the end must be of service to the good; whence passing through a cavern, they ascend to the opposite side of the earth, and come forth to see the stars again.

In attempting to present an idea of the Purgatory and Paradise of Dante, we must be brief.

Purgatory Dante conceives to be a steep, spherical mountain on the western hemisphere, which according to the original plan of Providence, was to have been the abode of the human race. Its summit is crowned with the Terrestrial Paradise, out of which Adam was thrust on account of his transgression, forming thus the direct antipodes of Zion, the mountain of salvation, on the inhabited hemisphere, and being at the same time the threshold of Heaven. Both mountains rise, in a direct line, above the middle point of Hell. Christ, the second Adam, has again recovered, by his death upon Golgotha, the Paradise lost by the sin of the first. But the way thither leads now through Hell, i. e. through the deep knowledge of sin, and through Purgatory, i. e. the purifying pains of penitence.

At the foot of the mountain of purification is a lake, guarded by Cato of Utica, the stoic friend of liberty. Dante and Virgil must first wash from their countenances the filth of Hell. Then an angel, the direct reverse of the fearful Charon, who conducts the dead across Acheron, brings them in a light bark to the opposite shore. Purgatory has also, like Hell, a vestibule where all those are required to tarry, who have postponed repentance while upon

by Dante, after passing through the region of air and fire, and he here sees the souls of those who did not quite fulfil their spiritual vows. Second, Mercury, where dwell the souls of those who, although virtuous, yet strove in their bodily life after earthly fame. Third, Venus, which contains those spirits that in their pious strivings were not sufficiently free from earthly love. Fourth, the Sun, which holds a middle position among the stars, sending forth its rays equally in all directions, and which is the clearest mirror of God for the inhabitants of the earth. Here reside the most worthy theologians and doctors of the Church, (comp. Dan. xii. 3, Matt. viii. 43.) Thomas Aquinas, Bonaventura, Francis of Assissi, instruct the poet in the mysteries of salvation, and the depth of the Divinity. Fifth, Mars, the abode of the blessed heroes who have fought for the true faith. These shine as stars, and are arranged in the form of a bright cross, from the midst of which beams forth the form of Christ. Sixth, Jupiter, the star of justice, (a Jove justitia,) where are found the souls of just and righteous princes. These are arranged so as to express, in the first place, the words, Diligite justitiam, qui judicatis mundum; afterwards in the form of an eagle, as the symbol of the German empire, in which Dante saw the concentration of secular power according to divine institution. Seventh, Saturn, where reside the pious hermits and contemplative souls, which like flames are constantly ascending and descending a ladder. Dante reaches now the fixed-star-heaven. Here, in a vision, he sees the triumph of Christ and the Virgin Mary, and is instructed in the nature of Faith by the apostle Peter, in the nature of Hope by James, and in the nature of Love by John. This last Dante explains to be that which gives Heaven its peace-the Alpha and the Omega of the Holy Scriptures. It arises from a knowledge of God, who is Love itself. It is with transport that he becomes aware of being in possession of the true apostolic faith, over which Heaven exults, and the blessed spirits shout for joy. In the ninth sphere, the Crystal Heaven, or primum mobile, he sees the eternal hierarchy of angels who rule the nine heavenly spheres, and move in nine concentric circles around a bright, light-giving central

point-the Divinity. Now Dante nears the pinnacle of glory and blessedness, the Empyrean, which, in itself immovable, is yet the original cause of all movement. For God is without longing for anything that is without him, but yet gives forth all life from himself. The poet here sees all those blessed spirits, which, like innumerable leaves, form an endless sweet-scented rose. Beatrice now leaves him, to resume her place among the blessed. The godly Shystic, the holy Bernard of Clairvaux, now stands by his side, and, on his request, permits him one fearful gaze upon the Godhead. He beholds three circles of equal circumference, but of different colors; one of these exhibits a human countenance. The pen refuses its office; his spirit is, as it were, electrified by a sudden shock; and he is inexpressibly happy in the contemplation of the Love of the Trinity, which illumines the sun and the stars, gives heaven and earth their motions, fills Time and Eternity, and draws from the choir of the blessed and angels an endless song of praise.

66

Thus have we attempted to give a brief sketch of this poem, in its organic unity. It is a mirror of the universe; a mystic unfathomable song," as Tieck calls it. It is "encyclopædic" in its very nature, as Villemain well remarks in his tableau de la Littérature du Moyen Age, because it carries in its bosom "a complete history of the science and poetry of its time." If we cast a glance once more at the mutual relation of the separate parts, we shall be struck with the profound truth of the hint first given by Schelling, that the first is sculptural, the second picturesque, and the third musical, in accordance with the subjects therein treated.* Hell is an immense group of sharply defined statues, of dusky, shadowy forms, fearful monuments of Divine justice, illuminated by the torch of poetry. Purgatory is a gallery of variegated pictures, opening, in an endless perspective, into Heaven. Paradise is a harmonious unison of the music of the spheres, with the song of praise of the blessed rational creation: here all swims in light; here all is feeling, sound, Hallelujah. The poem opens with the cry of despair; it flows forward through the sadness of longing; it closes with the jubilee of bliss.

*In the Critical Journal of Philosophy, issued by him in conjunction with Hegel, Vol. II.

III. What, we may now ask, in the third place, is the proper object of the Divina Commedia ? We do not mean to speak of its object or use, in the common sense of the term. Poetry, like Philosophy and Religion, is no mere means to serve some object lying out of itself. It is its own end, bearing its absolute worth in itself, and hence to be sought after for its own sake. Nor does it aim at any special practical use, but is sufficient in itself, and moves in the ether of liberty. But precisely on account of this high position, it is more than merely useful and serviceable in the common sense. In using the term object, then, we mean something immanent, that cannot be separated at all from the poem itself, and is identical with its proper sense. Dante himself makes it to consist in this: to lead the living out of the condition of misery into the condition of happiness.* He himself had, out of his errors, which he represents under the form of a dark forest, at the commencement of the poem, led by a higher hand, and through the contemplation of eternity and the whole world, sub specie æternitatis, found rest for the out-goings of his longing soul, in the peace-giving garden of Christ, the object of his desire. So far the Divine Comedy is a history of his errors and his deliverance. On this account he represents himself as in Hell, a participant and deeply interested spectator; in Purgatory as a penitent, to whom the first steps were immensely difficult, and from whose heart the seven mortal sins, like the seven P's upon his forehead, pass away only gradually and through actual penance. Then first does he become worthy of obtaining, as a foretaste, a glimpse of that blessedness, of which he also is once to become a participant.§ But to this subjective meaning of the poem, we must add also its objective. For in Dante's heart and life is mirrored forth the whole world, and in this view, the Divine Comedy is

In his letter to Cangrande: Finis totius et partis (namely, Paradiso especially) est, removere viventes in hac vita de statu miseriæ et perducere ad statum felicitatis, (Epist. Dantis, Ed. Witte, p. 85) The false views of the tendency of the poem have been carefully refuted by Blanc, in his article, already cited, in Ersch and Gruber's Encyclopædia, I. vol. 23, p 64 ff.

† Parad. xxiii. 8; xxvi. 64.

Purgat. xxiv. 76-78.

§ Purgat. xxxii. 100; Parad. v. 105 ; xxx. 135.

also a description of human life in general, in its course from the world towards God, from time towards eternity, from sin towards holiness, from misery towards bliss.* It is, we may say, a poetical "Pilgrim's Progress from this world to that which is to come." The way of salvation leads, for all, through the knowledge of sin, (Inferno,) through the pains of penitence, (Purgatorio,) and through the contemplation of the mercy and glory of God and the salvation of his saints, (Paradiso.)

On this way towards saving knowledge, man is not left to himself, but, on the contrary, he has for his guide history, or tradition in its widest and best sense, which God himself uses as his instrument. This leads us to remark on the meaning of the companions of Dante in his journey to the other world. These are three: Virgil, Beatrice, and Bernard of Clairvaux. Virgil is the representative of human wisdom and natural virtue. The scholastic theology did not look upon heathenism as altogether without truth, but as irradiated in some measure, remotely at least, by the beams of the Logos; and the system of Roman Catholicism, as a whole, it is well known, has taken up into its own life much of heathenism itself even, under a Christian form. In general, too, classical literature still forms the foundation of all higher scientific culture. Dante has interwoven into the first part of his poem manifold elements of Grecian and Roman mythology, which is sufficient to show, that he did not regard it as purely error. Aristotle was generally regarded during the middle. ages, as the highest representative of merely human wisdom. Hence his philosophy forms the foundation of the whole scholastic theology. It was usual to compare him with the morning-dawn, ushering in the sun of Christianity, Hence he was called the heathen John the Baptist, the precursor Christi in naturalibus ; and there was no end to the praises of his acuteness

In the letter of Dante, already quoted, he says: Est subjectum totius operis litteraliter tantum accepti status animarum post mortem simpliciter sumptus. Nam de illo et circa illum totius operis versatur processus. Si vero opus accipiatur allegoricè, subjectum est homo, prout merendo et demerendo per arbitrii libertatem justitiæ præmiandi et puniendi obnoxius est.

† Comp. Inf. i. 65, where gran deserto, referring to Virgil, may perhaps allude to the "vox clamantis in deserto; parate viam Domini."