Chapter X: Introduction (2)

The legend does not indeed identify Iblis with this angel, but the fact that he was sent from the very throne of God and _fell_ to earth would seem to favour the suggestion.

The two myths, blended together, may well have served as a model for Dante’s picture. That there exist grounds for this hypothesis may be shown by a review of the different features of resemblance furnished by the Moslem descriptions. Iblis is an angel cast out of heaven for rebellion against God, who, in falling to the earth, penetrates its several strata and is embedded in the ice, with his feet unsupported; although of gigantic stature—he supports the different strata—he is yet an angel and thus provided with wings; but sin has changed his beauty into hideousness and thus he appears as a many-headed beast that devours men, as a monster that is half man, half ostrich.[252]

VI

THE MOSLEM PURGATORY IN THE DIVINE COMEDY

1. Through the dark and winding passage leading from the centre of the earth to the surface of the southern hemisphere Dante and his guide pass to reach the shores of purgatory, which the poet conceives as a lofty mountain shaped like a truncated cone and set in the midst of a boundless ocean. Seven terraces divide this mountain into as many mansions of expiation, one for each capital sin; and at the foot two mansions form the antechamber of purgatory, where the disobedient and negligent spirits await admittance. On the table-land at the top of the mountain and bordering on the sphere of the ether is the earthly paradise. The mount of purgatory may thus be variously considered as consisting of seven, nine or ten mansions, which are connected by a steep and arduous path. The spirits in purgatory are those guilty merely of venial sin, or of deadly sins for which full penitence has not been done; these they expiate in the successive mansions under the guard of angels who guide them in their ascent—a task that is rendered easier by the prayers of their friends on earth. Dante, too, though only in a mystical sense, is subjected to this progressive purification, the guardian angel marking his brow seven times with the letter P, the symbol of sin, which is washed away in each of the seven terraces. As they rise, the ascent becomes easier and, finally, the poets reach the summit, or earthly paradise, where, by bathing in the waters of two rivers, Dante cleanses his soul and is prepared for his entry into heaven.

2. Nothing in Christian eschatology seems to warrant so detailed and precise a description of the site of purgatory. Not until a century after the appearance of the Divine Comedy did the existence of purgatory as a special condition of the soul, engaged in temporary expiation of sin, become a dogma of the Christian faith.[253] The site was never mentioned, either at the Council of Florence held in that century, or at the Council of Trent, or on any other occasion, for, as a matter of fact, the Church has always endeavoured to avoid fantastic descriptions of the realms beyond the grave, and particularly of purgatory.[254] Not that purgatory was an innovation of the fifteenth century; indeed, the belief in it was deeply rooted in scholastic and patristic tradition, as well as in revealed doctrine. But the dogma never went beyond the admission of its existence as a state of the soul, and ecclesiastical tradition, especially of Western Christianity, was ever discreetly silent upon its site and descriptive detail. Prior to Dante, only a few writers, such as Hugh of St. Victor, St. Thomas and Ricardo de Media Villa, had made timid attempts to portray purgatory, and their conceptions differed greatly from Dante’s picture. Landino, accordingly, concludes his review of all possible models, classical or Christian, with the remark: “Ma Dante, huomo di mirabile ingegno e di mirabile inventione, trovo nuovo sito, il quale niente e contra sustantialmente all opinione christiana.”[255]

3. As has been seen, Islam, the successor of Eastern Christianity, admitted purgatory as a state of temporary penitence to be undergone by all sinners that die in the true faith.[256] To determine its locality and the nature of the trials to which the souls are subjected, it is necessary to have recourse to the plethora of Islamic legends on the after-life. The dogmas of the resurrection of the body and the final judgment caused a certain confusion in the minds of the theologians who were called upon to decide the question of the penalties and rewards awaiting the soul during the time between death and the end of the world. Are the souls alone, or the bodies also, subject to sanction? Can the dead body feel physical pain and pleasure if it is not resuscitated in the tomb? Again, what useful purpose can be served by final judgment, if sentence and sanction are to begin at death? As it is impossible to make a critical selection of the legends or to distinguish between tales dealing with expiation immediately after death and those describing purgation following upon final judgment, a few descriptive features taken indiscriminately from the whole group of legends will be compared with the corresponding scenes in Dante.

To begin with, the purgatory of Islam is represented as being near to, but separate from hell; and, whereas the latter is placed in the interior of the earth, the former is described as lying outside and above the earth. This is clearly borne out by a tradition which, in addition to this topographical feature, gives an outline of the expiation of sin[257]:

“There are two hells, or gehennas; the one the _internal_, the
other the _external_ fire. The former none shall ever leave,
but the latter is the place in which God chastises the faithful
for their sins. Then, when at His will the angels, prophets
and saints intercede on their behalf, the blackened bodies of
the sinners will be withdrawn from the fire and cast upon the
banks of a river in paradise, called the River of Life. When
sprinkled with the waters of the river they will come to life
again like seeds sprouting in dung. Their bodies made whole,
they will be bidden to enter the river and to wash themselves
and drink of its waters, so that later they may be called upon
to enter heaven. In heaven they will be known as the ‘Men of
Hell’ until such time as God shall consent to remove this
stigma, when the brow of each will bear the legend ‘Freedman of
God.’”

Thus, the final episode of Dante’s purgatory, in which, when the poet enters the garden of the terrestrial paradise, the allegorical mark of sin is wiped from off his brow and he is washed in the rivers of Lethe and Eunoe, is given in this Moslem legend with typical details similar in their turn to those already noted in versions of the _Miraj_.[258]

A tale of another cycle describes purgatory essentially as Dante conceived it, as “a mount rising between hell and heaven on which the sinners are imprisoned.”[259] True, purgatory here is either confused or blended with the limbo, for the region is named _Al Aaraf_, and is said to be inhabited by Moslem sinners whose sins are counterbalanced by their virtues. But, inasmuch as these sinners, after being purified of their sins in the River of Life, are capable of entering heaven, the characteristics of purgatory may be said to prevail.

So far, then, the purgatory of Islam stands revealed as a hill or mount definitely situated outside and above hell and rising between it and heaven. The description is carried further in the legends, adopted by Islam from Persian eschatology, that deal with the bridge or path that has to be traversed by the souls before they can enter heaven.[260] The Persian Chinvat, or luminous bridge, which stretches over the abyss of hell between heaven and a mountain rising from the centre of the earth, assumed in Islam the various forms of a path or road; a lofty structure, vaulted bridge or viaduct; a natural bridge or slippery passage; or, again, a slope or ramp difficult of ascent. With the exception of the image of the bridge, these features reappear in the Purgatorio; and even Dante’s mount is in reality but an enormous bridge, providing as it does the only means of passing from earth to heaven and rising above hell, or, rather, like the _sirat_ or path described in the Moslem books of eschatology, above the back of the abyss of hell.[261]

4. Ibn Arabi, commenting in his _Futuhat_ upon the words attributed to Mahomet on this point says, “the souls that are not cast into hell shall be detained in the _sirat_, where strict account shall be taken of their sins, for which they will be punished.” He adds that “the _sirat_ will be over the back of hell and form the sole means of entering paradise.”[262] In another passage he completes the picture saying, as if indeed he were speaking of Dante’s conception, “the _sirat_ will rise in a straight line from the earth to the surface of the stellar sphere and end in a meadow lying outside the walls of the heavenly paradise; the souls will first enter this meadow, called the paradise of delight.”[263]

In other legends two _sirats_ appear, and the souls that have succeeded in passing the first without falling into hell are subjected to the trial of the second. The latter is often represented as a high structure (_cantara_) between hell and heaven, which serves as a place of temporary expiation of sin: “in it the souls will be detained until they mutually restore the debts that by their guilt they contracted on earth, and they are purified”; whereupon angels will receive them with loving words of welcome and guide them on the path that leads to eternal bliss.[264]

The resemblance of the purgatory of Islam to that of Dante is most striking, however, in the form given to it by the mystics, who multiply the primitive _cantara_, or place of expiation, into a number of chambers, enclosures or abodes. As usual, it is Ibn Arabi who paints the picture with the greatest detail.[265] In the legend of the Prophet that he has handed down to us, there are fifty stations, distributed into four main groups. Of these the last is the most interesting to us, since, like Dante’s purgatory, it consists of seven enclosures, called bridges or slippery passages, beset with obstacles which the souls have to surmount by ascending seven steep slopes of a height hyperbolically couched in terms of thousands of years. The principle on which these different abodes of trial and expiation are distinguished is, as in Dante, ethical; it is based on the seven capital sins of Islam, which consist in the breaking of the rules of faith, prayer, fasting, almsgiving, pilgrimage, ablution, and just dealing with one’s neighbour.

Once started in this direction, the imagination of the faithful soon overstepped the narrow limits of the scheme outlined above, and the topography was amplified by the addition of other partial purgatories of ten, twelve, or fifteen sections. Here, again, the principle is ethical; although it must be confessed that the distribution is neither logical nor based on any philosophical or theological system, but is rather the outcome of a desire on the part of the casuist to leave no wrongdoing unpunished. The result is thus a heterogeneity of vices and failings.[266]

Judging by the wealth of detail with which the place of expiation is described in the eschatology of Islam, it is evident, then, that in the matter of topography Dante’s conception can hardly be claimed to be original.

5. As for his description of the punishments of purgatory, no such claim has ever been made. Indeed, having exhausted the whole gamut of suffering in his picture of hell, he would no doubt find it difficult to conceive new torments, so that a very brief comparison of Dante’s with the Moslem scenes will be sufficient for our argument.

The disobedient and neglectful souls are punished merely by being withheld indefinitely from the place of expiation. At the foot of the mount they lie, awaiting the help of friends and relations, the prayers of whom will shorten the term of Divine wrath. It is in this antechamber of purgatory that Manfred of Sicily and Belacqua make themselves known to Dante and implore him to give news of their sad fate to their friends on earth. Under the shade of a rock Belacqua with his head between his knees sits in an attitude of utter dejection.[267]

In the religious literature of Islam similar scenes abound in the form of visions of souls in purgatory, who appear to their relations in their sleep and beseech them to pray for their eternal rest.[268] One scene in particular bears a striking resemblance to Dante’s description; Abu Dolaf al-Ijli, a soldier of the time of Caliph Al-Mamun, appears to his son Dolaf, who thus describes the vision:—

“In a dream I saw my father lying in a place of horror, with
dark walls around it and its floor covered with ashes. Naked
and sitting with his head resting upon his knees, he called
out to me, ‘Dolaf,’ and I replied, ‘May God have thee in His
keeping.’ Then did he recite the following verses: ‘Tell our
family of the fate awaiting them in this dread purgatory and
how account is taken of all our deeds. Hide nothing from them,
but thou, have pity on my awful loneliness and terrible fate.
If in death we were but left alone, it would at least be a
comfort to us! But, alas! We are brought to life again and must
answer for all our deeds.’ And with these words he vanished,
and I awoke.”[269]

6. The torments of Dante’s Purgatorio, like those of the Inferno, are based on the principle of correlation between punishment and sin. Thus, in the first circle the souls that are being purified of the sin of pride are seen wending their way bowed down under a heavy load of stones. This is the very suffering assigned by Islam to the avaricious and such as grew rich by evil means. Tales attributed to Mahomet say[270]:—

“Men of my persuasion will come to me on the Day of Judgment,
their shoulders burdened with the goods of this world, and they
will implore my aid.... But I shall turn my back upon them,
saying, ‘the faith ye profess is known to me, but your deeds I
know not.’ For he who stole but a palm of land shall be obliged
by God to bear it upon his neck, down to the bottommost part of
the earth.”

Other legends depict the avaricious as vainly endeavouring to cross the _sirat_ under the burden of their riches, or as wandering hither and thither, borne down by the weight of their wealth.

In the second circle Dante portrays the envious with their eyelids sewn together and weeping bitterly as they pray for pardon.

Blindness, though in a milder form, is also one of the punishments reserved in Islam for those that failed to practise the virtues they preached.[271] An apocryphal tradition of Mahomet runs:—

“He who reads the Koran but ignores its teaching shall appear
blind on the Day of Judgment. To his cry ‘Oh, Lord! Why hast
Thou brought me to life again, deprived of my sight, whereas
aforetime I could see?’ God will give answer, ‘Even as my words
reached thine eyes and thou didst heed them not, so shall I pay
no heed to thee to-day.’”

The wrathful, in Dante’s third circle, are enveloped in a cloud of smoke so dense that although their voices can be heard, they themselves cannot be seen.

This is the very torment, referred to in the Koran as a plague of smoke that God will send on the Day of Judgment to punish them that mocked His prophets.[272] The traditionists, in their comment on this passage, filled in the details of the picture, which thus comes to bear a striking resemblance to Dante’s scene.[273]

“The smoke will be so dense that the whole earth will resemble
a house that is on fire; the plague will last forty days and
forty nights, until the earth from East to West is full of
smoke, which will enter the eyes, ears and nostrils of the
infidels, suffocating and blinding them, and even the true
believers will suffer from faintness; men will call out one to
another, but though their voices will be heard, they themselves
will not be seen, so thick will be the fog.”

The punishment meted out in the fourth circle of the Purgatorio to the slothful, who are made to run without ceasing, may be passed over as of slight interest. More striking is the torture of the avaricious, in the fifth circle, who as they lie face downwards on the ground, bound hand and foot, bewail their fate with bitter tears.

Sadness and moral pain are among the typical features of the purgatory of Islam that recur in the descriptions of the different abodes or stations.[274]

“Should the soul have been guilty of any of these failings, it
will remain in its allotted abode a thousand years downcast and
ashamed, naked, hungered and athirst, until such time as it
shall have made restitution unto God.”

The peculiar posture, moreover, in which Dante depicts the avaricious, is that in which, according to Islam, sinners in general, and inebriates in particular, are found on the Day of Judgment and in purgatory itself. A tradition of the Prophet runs: “He, who on earth made you walk upright, may on the Day of Judgment cause you to walk upon your faces.”[275] And the author of the _Corra_ describes the punishment of the drunkard as follows: “He shall come to life again with his hands and feet fettered and be obliged to drag himself along the ground.”[276] Of the passage of the _sirat_ a tradition attributed to Mahomet says:

“Some will pass with the swiftness of a race-horse, of the
wind, or of lightning; others will merely run or walk; while
others, again, will crawl on all fours, like an infant, or drag
themselves along on their bellies.”[277]

In Dante’s sixth circle, where the vice of gluttony is punished, the souls, famished and parched with thirst, are tantalised by the sight and odour of the fruit of two trees, offshoots of the tree growing on high in the earthly paradise.

As has just been seen, the cravings of hunger and thirst are characteristic torments of the purgatory of Islam. It is a further curious coincidence that in a Moslem legend narrating the passage of the soul along the _sirat_, or path of expiation, this incident of the tree should be thrice repeated.[278] Three trees grow by the side of the path at different stages, the last one standing at the gate of paradise. The soul, in its painful progress, begs to be allowed to rest in their shade and eat of their luscious fruit, and God finally grants the prayer. Though the ending is different, the general outline of the incident is very similar in both stories.

The last circle of the Purgatorio is the place of expiation of the sin of lust. Tormented with thirst and scorched by the flames, the souls cry aloud to God for forgiveness. Dante speaks to several who are known to him, and they entreat him to intercede on their behalf.

Fire is the most common of all the torments, occurring as it does in almost every eschatological system; in some, indeed, it constitutes the only form of punishment. It would, therefore, be superfluous to point out parallel scenes in Islamic descriptions of the after-life.[279] The Moslem traditionists, however, are careful to distinguish between the expiatory flames of purgatory and the eternal fire of hell. The former, being temporary and merely serving to purify, are limited both as to duration and extent, proportionately to the nature of the sin for which atonement is being made. Numerous are the legends describing the different degrees of this torture and telling of the laments and prayers, addressed by the sufferers to the angels, Mahomet, and the saints, begging them to intercede with God on their behalf.[280]

VII

THE EARTHLY PARADISE OF ISLAM IN THE DIVINE COMEDY.

1. The summit of the Mount of Purgatory is a broad table-land, which Dante describes as a garden of great beauty. This is the earthly paradise, or Garden of Eden, in which our first ancestors dwelt while yet in a state of innocence. As he treads the ground, which is fragrant with flowers, a gentle breeze, laden with the perfumes of paradise, fans his tear-stained cheeks. In the shade of verdant trees, the rustling of whose leaves murmurs a soft accompaniment to the song of a thousand birds, he comes to a limpid stream, whose course he follows; here he walks, accompanied by a fair maiden, Matilda, who, gathering flowers as she trips along the further bank, explains to him the nature of the garden. Virgil’s mission is now ended, and he is soon to leave Dante; for, of a sudden, they behold advancing from beyond the stream a marvellous procession of maidens and elders, who, richly attired, lead in triumph a car in which, surrounded by angelic spirits and greeted with songs of welcome, appears Beatrice, the poet’s beloved. Calling him by name, she sternly rebukes Dante for his disregard of the holy counsel she gave him in his dreams, for his faithlessness in following other less worthy loves, and for his sins. Dante, confused and repentant, confesses his unworthiness. He is then immersed by Matilda and the maidens that serve Beatrice in the stream of Lethe, on whose banks they are gathered, and upon drinking of its waters loses all memory of sin. Thereafter he succumbs to sleep in the shade of the tree of paradise, and finally, is bathed in the waters of Eunoe, from which he emerges “born again, even as trees renewed with fresh foliage, pure and ready to mount to the stars.”[281]

Graf, after minute study of the mediæval legends bearing on the earthly paradise, has shown that there existed precedents for the site chosen by Dante, inasmuch as others before him had laid this garden in the southern hemisphere and on the peak of a high mountain.[282] But he asserts that no one before Dante had thought of placing it precisely on the summit of purgatory. An examination of Islamic literature will therefore be of interest, as it may furnish the key to this riddle of topography by revealing analogies both in outline and in detail with this closing scene of the Purgatorio.

2. From the earliest centuries in Islam the question of the site of the garden in which God had placed Adam and Eve had given rise to animated controversy. The passages in which the Koran tells the Biblical story in a slightly altered form, led to a confusion between this paradise and the abode of glory, thus causing it to be laid in heaven.[283] According to another interpretation, however, it was supposed to be situated on earth, more precisely, in the East and on the highest of all mountains. This explanation, whilst more in keeping with the Biblical narrative, had the advantage of being reconcilable with the words used in the Koran; for the expulsion of Adam and Eve to the earth would merely mean that God drove them from the summit to the foot of the mountain[284]; it would also account for the delights of the Garden of Eden and its difference from other places on the surface of the earth. This view, though indeed held from early times, was mainly propounded by the _Mutazili_ heretics, the philosophers and the mystics. A Spanish _Mutazili_ ascetic of the ninth century, Mondir ibn Said al-Belloti, who was chief cadi of Cordova, was its most ardent champion; and in the tenth century it became popular throughout Islam through the _Rasail_ or encyclopædia compiled by the _Ikhwan as-safa_, or Brethren of Purity, a heretical sect established in Basra.

“Lying on the summit of the Mountain of the Hyacinth, which
no human being may ascend, paradise was a garden of the East;
a soft breeze blew day and night, winter and summer, over
its perfumed ground. The garden was well watered by streams
and shaded by lofty trees; it was full of luscious fruit, of
sweet-smelling plants, of flowers of different kinds; harmless
animals lived there and birds of song....”[285]

The earthly paradise that is here depicted in terms similar to those used by Dante was situated, therefore, on the summit of the highest mountain of the earth. Exactly which mountain was referred to is not easy to determine, for on this point opinion differed. Some authors placed it in Syria or in Persia; others in Chaldea or in India.[286] Eventually the belief that it lay in the last-named country was the most generally accepted.[287] The Brethren of Purity refer to the mountain as the “Mount of the Hyacinth,” which, according to Arab geographers, is the mountain rising in Ceylon, now known as “Adam’s Peak.”[288] Rising out of the Indian Ocean to a height of seven thousand feet, it is visible from afar at sea, and this fact would no doubt account for the exaggerated height attributed to it, for its summit was supposed to reach to the sky.

The very name the mountain still bears is a perpetuation of the Islamic legend. Ibn Batutah, of Tangier, the famous fourteenth century traveller, who journeyed to the ends of the world, as it was then known, has left us a picturesque description of its difficult ascent, which Moslem pilgrims were wont to undertake in the belief that a rock on the summit bore the footprint of our father Adam.[289]

A high mount, rising in the middle of an island in the ocean covering the southern hemisphere is, in Dante’s conception, the site of the earthly paradise. According to Islam, it is a high mountain rising in the middle of an island in the Indian Ocean.[290] Dante’s, it is true, is but a small isle lying in the antipodes of Jerusalem, whereas the island of Ceylon is larger and is situated on the equator; but the difference in topography is slight.[291]

3. As Graf has pointed out, however, Dante’s conception of the site of the earthly paradise was no novelty in mediæval Christian literature, so that coincidence with Islam on this point alone would not suffice as proof of Moslem influence. But, as mentioned above, there is an element in Dante’s topography that Graf does not hesitate to ascribe to the poet’s inventive genius, to wit, the position of the earthly paradise on the summit of the mount of expiation, and its conception as the goal of the sinner in his arduous ascent and the last stage of purgation, in which the soul is cleansed of sin and made fit to cross the threshold of eternal bliss.[292]

Among the many Moslem legends dealing with the entry of the souls into the theological heaven there is a whole cycle describing their adventures from the time they finally emerge from the _sirat_ or path of purgatory. Close to the _sirat_, and forming as it were the last stage of purgatory, lies the marvellous garden of paradise, which, although not indeed stated to be the earthly paradise, is depicted with all the features proper to it. Its pleasant pastures, gay with flowers, are watered by two rivers, and two only, in which the souls are immersed and cleansed from sin, and of whose waters they drink; upon emerging, the souls rest, as does Dante, in the shade of trees and are then led by a choir of angels to the abode of glory. But a still more remarkable coincidence is, that on the threshold of the celestial mansion the soul is welcomed by a maiden of surpassing beauty, his promised bride, who for long has awaited his coming, yearning to be united with him in a love at once spiritual and chaste.

4. The resemblance to Dante’s picture borne by this brief sketch is such as to call for a more detailed examination of these legends and a comparison of this episode with Dante’s story. Originating in the form of gloss on a verselet of the Koran, the myth in its earliest and crudest version reads as follows:[293]

“The souls that are about to enter paradise first come to two
springs; they drink of the waters of the one, and God blots
all rancour and hatred from their hearts; they bathe in the
waters of the other, and their complexions become brilliant,
and the purity and splendour of bliss is seen shining on their
faces.”[294]

These bare outlines were soon filled in by the traditionists, who in the course of time built up the story that has been handed down to us in its most complete and classical form by Shakir ibn Muslim, of Orihuela. Composed in rhymed verse, it is of such extraordinary length that only the most interesting passages can be given here.[295]

“When the souls have left hell behind them and have traversed
the _sirat_, or path of purgatory, they issue upon the plain
that leads to paradise.[296] Accompanying them are the angels
of Divine mercy, who cheer and guide them on their way to
glory and wish them joy of their victory and salvation.[297]
As they approach the entrance to paradise a gentle breeze,
laden with perfume, brings balm to their souls and wipes away
the memory of the suffering they endured in the course of
their judgment and in the various mansions.... At the gate of
paradise stand two mighty trees, lovelier than any ever seen
on earth. Their fragrance, the richness of their foliage,
the beauty of their blossom, the perfume of their fruit, the
lustre of their leaves—nothing could ever surpass. The birds
on their branches sing in sweet harmony with the rustling of
the leaves....[298] At the foot of either tree there springs a
fountain of the purest water, clearer than beryl, cooler and
whiter than freshly melted snow; these springs are the source
of two limpid streams, whose beds are seen to be of pearls and
rubies....[299] Along their banks spread gardens and groves
of trees in blossom, laden with fruit and harbouring birds of
sweet song.... The souls bathe in the two rivers; from the
one they emerge whole in body and cleansed from the marks of
fire, with the lustre of health and joy upon their faces; they
drink of the waters of the river and, as all memory of past
affliction leaves them, so is all trace of envy, rancour and
hatred blotted from their hearts; they then bathe in the other
stream, and later find peaceful repose in the shade of the two
trees....[300] And, even as they rest, the angels of the Lord
call upon them, saying, ‘Oh, beloved of God, these trees are
not your dwelling; nigh unto God is your appointed place. Rise,
therefore, and march onward, till ye reach the mansion of rest
and everlasting bliss.’[301] And they rise and proceed through
the paths of paradise, following the voice of the angel herald,
who leads them on from garden to garden until they meet with
a brilliant procession of youths and maidens, dressed in rich
attire and mounted on coursers ... who greet each one with
shouts of joy and congratulation upon his triumph.... ‘Be thou
welcome, beloved son of God! Enter thy mansion, covered with
glory and honour.’ As he enters, behold! a damsel of surpassing
beauty, arrayed in robes of brilliant hue, awaits him seated
in a tabernacle ... the splendour of her countenance dazzles
him and his heart is enraptured with the perfection, grace, and
brilliant beauty with which God has endowed her. Indeed, were
it not that God had granted him extraordinary powers of vision,
he would be bereft of both sight and sense by the intensity of
the light shining in her and the splendour radiating from her
presence.[302] The voice of an angel announces to him, ‘Oh,
beloved one of God! This is thy precious bride, thy dearly
beloved partner in the life of heaven; this is the mistress of
the damsels, the coy maiden hidden from the gaze of man.’ But
hardly has she caught sight of him when, unable to restrain the
impulse of her love, she hastens towards him with fond words of
welcome, ‘Oh, beloved of God! How I have yearned to see thee!’”

Of the many points of resemblance shown by this legend to Dante’s story of the earthly paradise, some are so evident as to be hardly worthy of mention. The scenic features, for example, are clearly identical, recourse being had to the same rhetorical figures to depict the beauty of the gardens—such as the wealth of flowers, the perfumed air, the soft climate, and the gentle breeze on which is wafted the sweet song of birds. The rivers in which the souls are washed are two in number in Dante’s poem and in the Moslem story, as against four in the Biblical paradise. Lastly, both gardens adjoin the path of purgatory, of which in fact they constitute the last division, for in them the soul undergoes final purification from the stain of sin and is prepared for entry into the realm of glory. The resemblance even extends to the manner of purification: the soul is bathed in both rivers and, in addition, drinks of their waters. The effects of the double ablution are also similar; all physical and moral trace of sin is blotted out and new life imparted to the soul. After ablution, the pilgrim seeks rest in the shade of a tree. Finally comes the procession of youths and maidens leading in the heavenly bride; the meeting of bride and bridegroom and their mutual recognition.

5. In spite of long and minute research, no literary precedent has so far been found for this latter scene.[303] Yet, as the Dantists justly claim, it is of supreme moment for the whole of Dante’s poem, for it not only sheds light on the riddles that precede it, but also foreshadows the significance of what is to come; and, indeed, but for this scene of the meeting of Dante and Beatrice, neither the descent to hell nor the ascension to paradise would be susceptible of a satisfactory interpretation. At the same time, it must be admitted that the scene bears but little trace of the Christian spirit and is in strange contrast to the asceticism and the horror of sexual love that are characteristic of ecclesiastic literature in general, and that of the Middle Ages in particular.[304] To arrange, as the climax of a journey to the regions beyond the grave, the meeting of the pilgrim with his lost Beloved is a poetic conceit that will in vain be sought for in any of the Christian precursors of the Divine Comedy. Dante was well aware of how singular the note he struck was. So novel did the glorification of Beatrice, which is the avowed object of his poem, appear to him, that many years before, when the plan of the Divine Comedy was shaping in his mind, he remarked about his future poem, “Spero di dire di lei quello que mai non fu detto d’alcuna.”[305] No doubt this glorification of Beatrice has its immediate roots in the spirit of chivalry that inspired the troubadours of Provence and the Italian poets of the “dolce stil nuovo”; in the spiritual and romantic love of woman underlying that literary movement; and in the mixture of mysticism and sensuality revealed in the temperament of Dante, the man and poet. These explanations may, indeed, lay bare the inner workings of the poet’s mind, but they leave unsolved the riddle of the outer literary form in which his mentality manifested itself in this episode of the earthly paradise. In a later chapter of this work it will be shown that the origin of the “dolce stil nuovo” movement itself is most probably to be sought outside Christianity and that long before the appearance of the troubadours in Europe romantic love had inspired the poets of Arabia, and provided food for the speculative minds of Moslem mystics.[306] Here it will suffice to point to the outstanding fact that an episode so typical of the Divine Comedy as the meeting of Beatrice and Dante, and, being foreign to the very spirit of Christianity, unprecedented in Christian legend, has a striking parallel in Moslem tradition. Nor is the tale translated above unique; rather is it the final stage in the evolution of a series of legends that tell the fantastic story of the entry of the blessed soul into paradise. The Moslem heaven, as will be seen later on, is not exclusively the paradise of coarse delight, as depicted in the Koran and many of the traditions, that has become stamped on the mind of educated Europe. By the side of that picture there is another, painted by the ascetics and mystics, that reveals a heaven of purer love, in which, in addition to the large-eyed houris and the wives the blessed knew on earth, a spiritual bride also awaits him. This is his Heavenly Betrothed, who from on high has been waiting and watching for the advent of her lover, guiding him on the path of virtue, inspiring him with lofty aims and ever encouraging him to persevere to the triumphant end, when they will be united in eternal bliss. When death at last leads the blessed soul to paradise, it is she who sallies forth to welcome him, radiant indeed with beauty, yet not as an instrument of carnal delight, but rather as a spiritual companion and moral redemptress who wishes the soul joy of his victory and reproves him for having on occasions forsaken her for other, earthly loves. The picture of this Heavenly Bride is so strikingly like that of Beatrice that it will not be amiss to quote some of the legends on this subject.

6. A very interesting description of the entry of the blessed soul into paradise is contained in the tenth century work _Corrat Aloyun_.[307]

The angel Ridwan leads him to the tabernacle where his bride
awaits him. She greets him with the words, “Oh, friend of God,
how I have longed to meet thee! Blessed be the Lord, who has
united us! God created me for thee and engraved thy name upon
my heart. While thou on earth wast serving God in prayer and
fasting, day and night, God bade his angel Ridwan carry me on
his wings so that I might behold thy good deeds from heaven.
The love I felt for thee caused me to watch over thy progress
unbeknown to thee. When in the dark of night thy prayer went
up, my heart was glad within me, and I said to thee, ‘Serve
and thou shalt be served, sow and thou shalt reap! God has
advanced thee in glory, for thy virtues have found favour in
His sight, and He will bring us together in heaven.... But,
when I found thee neglectful and half-hearted, I felt sad.’”

Another legend of the same cycle, attributed to the eighth century traditionist Ibn Wahab, introduces the reproaches of the bride for her bridegroom’s earthly loves.[308]

“They will say to a woman in paradise, ‘Would’st thou see thy
spouse who is yet on earth?’ and, as she assents, they will
draw aside the veils that separate her from him, so that she
may look upon his face and long for the moment of his coming,
even as on earth a woman longs for her absent man. It may
be that between him and his spouse on earth there have been
grounds for resentment such as are common among wives and
husbands, and she will reproach him saying, ‘Oh, wretched man!
Why dost thou not forswear (such loves) that, compared with
mine, shall last thee but a night or two?’”[309]

The similarity between these two descriptions and the two scenes in which Beatrice comes to the moral aid of Dante is surely evident. Beatrice, when from on high she sees that her beloved poet is in danger of forfeiting salvation and, therewith, her companionship in paradise, descends from heaven to implore Virgil’s assistance in setting the pilgrim on the right path. The scene forms, as it were, the prologue to the poem.[310] When Dante reaches the earthly paradise, she again descends and to her greeting adds reproof for his backsliding, his indulgence in earthly loves, and his neglect of the holy counsel she gave him in his dreams.[311]

Tales of visions, based on the legends of the same cycle, are common in Islamic literature. They all tell of a beautiful and angelic maiden who appears to the devout in their dreams, to inspire them with holy thoughts and urge them to serve God with the promise that she will be theirs in the life to come.

A tale attributed to Ali al-Talhi, who lived prior to the tenth century, reads as follows[312]:—

“In a dream I beheld a woman fairer than any of this world.
‘Who art thou?’ I asked, and she replied, ‘I am a houri.’
I said to her, ‘Pray let me be thy husband,’ to which she
replied, ‘Ask me in marriage of my Lord and name my dowry.’
I asked, ‘What is thy dowry?’ and she answered, ‘That thou
shouldst keep thy soul unspotted from the world.’”

Another story, attributed to the ninth century ascetic Ahmed ibn Abu-l-Hawari, runs:—

“In a dream I saw a maiden of the most perfect beauty, whose
countenance shone with celestial splendour. To my asking,
‘Whence comes that brilliance on thy face?’ she replied,
‘Dost thou remember that night spent by thee in weeping (and
devotion)?’ ‘I remember,’ I answered, and she said, ‘I took
those tears of thine and with them anointed my face, since when
it has shone in brilliance.’”

A tale, attributed to Utba al-Ghulam, certainly dates before the eleventh century:—

“In a dream I saw a houri of beautiful features, who said to
me, ‘I love thee passionately and trust thou wilt do no deed
that might keep us apart.’ I replied, ‘Thrice have I abandoned
the things of this world and hope never to regain them, so that
I may be able to meet thee (in heaven).’”

Sulayman ad-Darani, a great ascetic of the ninth century of our era, is the protagonist of a similar tale[313]:—

“I saw in a dream a maiden of a beauty ‘as splendid as the
moon,’ clad in a mantle that ‘seemed as if made of light.’[314]
Said the maiden to me, ‘Thou sleepest, oh! delight of my soul.
Perchance thou knowest not that I am thy bride? Rise, for thy
prayer is light and thy Lord deserveth thy thanks...!’ and,
with a cry, she flew off through the air.”

Other legends tell of the visions seen by martyrs of holy warfare, the soldier ascetics of Islam, who later had their counterpart in the knights of the Christian military orders. In those quoted below, the meeting with the heavenly bride, who appears either alone or accompanied by her handmaidens, is described in terms similar to those used by Dante, and the subject of the earthly loves of the protagonist is also alluded to.

A tale told by Abd ar-Rahman ibn Zayd, of the eighth century, runs as follows[315]:—

“A youth, moved to devotion by spiritual reading, distributes
all his patrimony among the poor, keeping only enough to buy
a mount and arms, with which he sets off to the holy war.
Whilst on service, he fasts during the day-time and spends
the nights in prayer and vigil as he guards the horses of
his sleeping comrades. One day he cries out in a loud voice:
‘Oh, how I long to be with the large-eyed maiden!’ and to his
companions he explains how in a dream his soul found itself in
a lovely garden watered by a river; on the bank of the river
stood a group of fair maidens in rich attire, who welcomed
him saying, ‘This is the bridegroom of the large-eyed maiden
whom we serve.’ Proceeding on his way, he comes to a second
river, where other maidens again welcome him.[316] A few steps
further, and he meets the heavenly maiden herself enthroned on
a seat of gold within a tabernacle of pearl. When she beholds
her betrothed, she wishes him joy of having come to her, but
warns him that his present coming is not final. ‘The spirit of
life yet breathes within thee, but to-night thou shalt break
thy fast in my company.’”[317]

The following legend was told by Abd Allah ibn al-Mubarak in the eighth century[318]:—

A soldier in the holy war tells of a vision he had when faint
from wounds received on the field of battle. “I seemed to be
led to a mansion built of rubies, wherein I saw a woman whose
beauty enraptured me. She bade me welcome, saying she was not
like my wife on earth, whose behaviour she then related to me.
I laughed and would fain have clasped her in my arms, but she
held me at a distance saying, ‘To-morrow in the evening thou
shalt come to me,’ and I wept because she would not let me draw
nigh to her.” The legend ends by saying that on the morrow that
same soldier died in battle.

A legend, related by Ismail ibn Hayyan, of the ninth century, also tells of a vision seen by a martyr of holy warfare as he fainted away:—

He finds himself led by a man to the mansion of the heavenly
maiden, through palaces of paradise inhabited by youths whose
beauty is painted in hyperbolic terms. Finally there comes to
greet him the beautiful woman who tells him she is his bride
and who reminds him of the women of this world with such detail
that she appears to be speaking from a record made in a book.

7. The features of resemblance found in this comparison of Dante’s story of the earthly paradise with Islamic legend may be summarised as follows: On either hand, this paradise is represented as a garden of delight, situated on the summit of a high mountain rising on an island in the ocean; other Islamic legends tell of a garden lying at the gate of paradise and forming both the antechamber to glory and the last stage of purgatory, where the souls undergo final purification by being washed in the waters of two streams; in this garden also the soul is met and welcomed by the heavenly bride, a figure who in appearance and attitude bears a striking resemblance to the Beatrice of Dante.

Versions of the _Miraj_ described a similar garden as being watered by rivers in which the souls are purified before they enter heaven. That garden was called the Garden of Abraham. Thus, in Islam, there was a threefold garden beyond the grave—the Garden of Abraham, or Limbo; the Garden of Eden, or earthly paradise; and the garden of paradise, lying between purgatory and the theological heaven. Features of all three gardens appear blended in the Divine Comedy in a form foreign to Christian legend, as it existed prior to Dante.

The _Risala_ of Abu-l-Ala al-Maarri, the literary imitation of the _Miraj_ that was quoted in a former chapter, depicted a similar scene. In a garden lying at the gate of the celestial paradise the traveller, on the banks of a river, meets a maiden who has been sent by God to welcome and guide him; she leads him to the presence of the beloved of the poet Imru-l-Qays, who appears in the wake of a procession of beautiful maidens.[319]

It would thus seem that there was nothing to prevent the legend of the ascension from being extended to include the legends quoted in this chapter, dealing, as they also do, with the after-life. The idea might indeed prove tempting to so consummate an artist as Dante, who, saturated with classical and Christian learning, might well know how to weave into the outline of the story of Mahomet the scenes provided in these legends and the features available in mythology and ecclesiastical tradition, in order to paint his picture of the earthly paradise, in which elements from the Garden of Eden, the Parnassus of the Ancients, and the Paradise of Islam are blended into one.

VIII

THE CELESTIAL PARADISE OF ISLAM IN THE DIVINE COMEDY

1. As we have now reached a point in our argument when it might appear that we were treading on dangerous ground, a few words by way of preface to this chapter may not be amiss. The very suggestion of a comparison between Dante’s paradise and the paradise of Islam will most likely occasion surprise even in the minds of people of moderate culture. Surely, it will be thought, any such comparison can only serve to show up the utter antagonism between the two conceptions. Indeed, the spiritualism of Dante’s paradise seems so far removed from the coarse and sensual materialism of the paradise depicted in the Koran that, if the question were to be decided on that issue alone, there could be but one answer. The Koran, however, as has already been pointed out, does not stand for all Islam, nor does it constitute the main source of its dogma. The traditions early attributed to Mahomet, the explanations of the commentators, and the speculations of theologians and mystics, played at least as great a part as the letter of the Koran in determining the essential points of the creed of the Moslem paradise. Of outstanding interest in this connection is the tradition of the ascension of Mahomet. This legend in its various forms, and particularly in Version C of Cycle 2, showed very clearly that paradise was by no means generally conceived on the gross and sensual lines described in the Koran; on the contrary, the picture drawn there was almost exclusively one of light, colour and music, which are the very elements that Dante used to express his conception.

The spiritual interpretation of the delights of paradise must have begun in the first centuries of Islam. The famous traditionist and kinsman of Mahomet, Ibn Abbas, was of old credited with a saying which is significant of its early origin: “In paradise there is none of the things of this world; only their names are there.” The earliest traditionists even place in the mouth of the very Prophet who had described in such glowing terms the sensual joys awaiting the blessed, the same sublime words by which Isaiah and St. Paul had represented the glory of heaven; for a _hadith_ attributed to Mahomet says, “I have prepared for my holy servants such things as the eye hath not seen, nor the ear heard, nor the mind of man imagined.”[320] To this Divine promise the Prophet added the verse of the Koran (XXXII, 17): “The soul knows not of the delights awaiting it in reward for its good deeds.” The Moslem books on eschatology record many similar _hadiths_ attributed to Mahomet, in which the Beatific Vision is represented as the supreme bliss reserved for the souls in paradise.[321] It will thus be seen that from the very first centuries Islam had begun to conceive, apart from the sensual paradise of the Koran, a spiritual and essentially Christian heaven, in which beatitude consists in the contemplation of the splendour of the Divine essence.

2. To trace back each of the many controversies that arose in the centuries following would be to exceed the limits of our task. In the end the idealistic conception of paradise emerged triumphant alike over the exegesis of the Koran and the arguments against the anthropomorphism of God of the Mutazili and Kharijite heretics.[322] By the time that the dogma of Islam was given definite shape by its greatest theologians, the Beatific Vision was considered to be the principal, if not the only prize of heaven, and the sensual delights extolled in the text of revelation were discreetly ignored.