Chapter VI: Part I (1)

_THE LEGEND OF THE NOCTURNAL JOURNEY AND ASCENSION OF MAHOMET COMPARED WITH THE DIVINE COMEDY_

I

THE ORIGIN OF THE LEGEND

1. The Moslem legend of Mahomet’s nocturnal journey and ascent to the spheres of after-life originated and developed like most religious legends. Born of a brief passage in Revelations, in its very obscurity it defied theological interpretation. But what baffled the sages in their agnosticism kindled the imagination of the faithful masses, and the details of a story founded upon the sacred text were readily conceived.

One brief allusion only appears in the Koran: “Praised be He [the Lord]”—runs the first verse of the seventeenth chapter—“who called upon His servant [Mahomet] to travel by night from the sacred temple [of Mecca] to the far-off temple [of Jerusalem] whose precinct We have blessed, in order to show him Our wonders.”

2. The mysterious allusion seems from the first to have aroused the curiosity of pious Moslems. A rich crop of legends sprang up as if by magic. The vivid imagination of the East had been fired, and the myth of the nightly journey was soon clothed with a wealth of detail and set in a wonderful variety of episode and scenery.

The entire records of the evolution of the legend in all its ramifications would fill volumes. Around an insignificant verselet of the Koran a plot was woven, and the story developed in the form of _hadiths_ or traditions of the Prophet, who was supposed to describe the wonders he saw on that memorable night. In the following pages an endeavour has been made to lay before the reader some of the principal versions extant. These have been divided into three cycles or groups, which begin with the simple, fragmentary types, and end with those in which Oriental fantasy reaches its climax.

II

FIRST CYCLE—VERSIONS OF THE “ISRA,” OR NOCTURNAL JOURNEY

1. The simplest cycle seems to be one of the ninth century that is formed of six _hadiths_, in each of which, with slight variations, Mahomet is made to tell the story of an _Isra_, or journey by night on earth. Few topographical details, however, are given, and no mention is made of an ascent to celestial spheres.

In the following summaries the two main versions are compared with the Divine Comedy.

_Version A of Cycle I_

2. Mahomet relates to his disciples how he was awakened from
sleep by a man who leads him to the foot of a steep mountain.
To climb this, as he is urged to do, seems impossible; but,
heartened by his guide, he begins the ascent and eventually
reaches the high table-land at the top of the mountain.
Proceeding on their way, Mahomet and his guide witness six
scenes, one after another, of horrible torture. Men and women
with lips torn asunder; others whose eyes and ears are pierced
by arrows; women hanging by their heels while vipers sting
their breasts; others, both men and women, that likewise
hanging suck up in agony the stagnant water from off the
ground; then, wretched creatures in filthy clothes who reek
as of latrines; and lastly, corpses in the last, abominable
stages of putrefaction. These punishments, the guide explains
to Mahomet, are meted out in turn to liars; those that have
sinned with eyes or ears; to mothers who have refused to suckle
their children; to violators of the fast; adulterers; and to
unbelievers. Continuing their journey, the travellers suddenly
find themselves enveloped in a cloud of smoke; and they hear a
confused noise as of mingled cries of pain and fury. Gehenna is
there; and Mahomet is urged to pass on.

Men sleeping peacefully in the shade of trees are now
designated as the bodies of those who died in the faith.
Children at play are the offspring of true believers. The
men with the white, godlike features, who are robed in fine
clothes and are exquisitely perfumed, are the true friends
of God, His martyrs and saints. On they go, and now Mahomet
descries three well-known figures drinking wine and singing
psalms. One is Zayd, the son of Haritha, a slave who for love
of Mahomet sacrificed his freedom. Had he not fallen in the
battle of Muta, when a general in the Prophet’s armies, he
would assuredly have been Mahomet’s successor. The second
is Jafar, son of Abu Talib and cousin to Mahomet, who was
killed in the same battle, after having preached the faith
of Islam in Abyssinia. The third is Abd Allah, the son of
Rawaha, the scribe and intimate friend of the Prophet, who
also died at Muta. The three greet Mahomet with cries of love
and allegiance. At the final stage Mahomet raises his eyes to
Heaven and beholds Abraham, Moses, and Jesus, who, gathered
around the Throne of God, await his coming.

3. This embryonic version, simple though it may be, has its points of coincidence with Dante’s poem.[9] In each case it is the protagonist himself who recounts his adventures. Each makes the journey by night, led by an unknown guide who appears to him on awaking from a profound sleep. In both legends the first stage comprises the ascent of a steep mountain. Purgatory, hell, and paradise are by both visited in succession, although the sequence and detail differ. The first five torments witnessed by Mahomet represent the purgatory of Islam. The sixth, as also Gehenna, which follows it, is the hell of unbelievers. The remaining episodes deal with the paradise of children, and the heavens of the faithful, of saints, martyrs, and prophets. Both stories end with the vision of the Divine Throne. The sins or virtues of the dwellers of each abode are explained by the guide, and from time to time the visitor attempts to converse with the souls of men once known to him.

4. Apart from the general outlines, there are few features in common. Even between the torments there is little similarity. With the introductions to the two stories, however, it is different. The description in the Islamic legend of the lofty mountain; Mahomet’s dismay at having to climb it; his guide’s assurance of help; and, finally, the ascent itself, when Mahomet follows in his guide’s footsteps; all are features bearing a striking resemblance to Dante’s Inferno, and, especially, his Purgatory.[10] Moreover, Dante is warned of the approach to hell by the same sign as Mahomet—a confused noise as of “parole di dolore, accenti d’ira.”[11]

_Version B of Cycle I_[12]

5. Mahomet is suddenly awakened by two persons; who, taking him
by the arm, call upon him to rise and follow them. On reaching
the outskirts of Jerusalem, the visions of the after-world
begin. The guides, in this version, refuse to answer any
questions, bidding Mahomet wait until the end of the journey
for an interpretation of what he sees. The first five visions
correspond, as in Version A, to the purgatory of Islam.

The Prophet sees a man supine at the feet of another—man, angel
or demon. The latter hurls an enormous boulder down upon his
victim’s head, crushing his brain. The rock rolls on and, when
the torturer recovers it, he finds his victim whole as before;
and so the torture is renewed without end. Mahomet stands
aghast and asks what crimes the wretch has committed. But his
guides hurry him on to where another tormentor is forcing an
iron javelin into the mouth of another sufferer, lacerating
his cheeks, eyes and nostrils. Farther on, Mahomet sees a man
struggling in a river red with blood and seething like boiling
pitch. Vainly does he strive to gain the shore, for at each
effort a fiend forces red hot stones down his throat, obliging
him to swim back into the middle of the stream. This torture,
like the previous one, is everlasting. Still farther, they come
to a tubular structure, broad at the base and narrow at the
top; and through the walls comes an uproar as of human voices.
The interior, Mahomet finds, is like a glowing oven, where men
and women ceaselessly writhe, now being flung upwards, now
sinking to the bottom, as the heat of the flames increases and
diminishes. The scene recurs again and again, and the horror is
accentuated by the shrieks of the victims. At length, Mahomet
reaches the summit of a dark hill, where men, raving like
madmen, exhale, through their mouths, nostrils, eyes and ears,
the fire that has been infused into them.

Here, the tortures end. A few steps further on is a garden,
green with eternal spring. At the entrance two men, one
repulsively ugly, are feeding the flames of a fire with wood.
Within, at the foot of a spreading tree and surrounded by
lovely children, they see a venerable old man, so tall that his
head touches the sky. Ascending by the tree, Mahomet comes to a
beautiful abode, like a city of silver and gold, inhabited by
men, women and children; some, white and handsome, others black
and ugly. A mighty river, whose water is clearer than crystal,
separates this from another, larger city. In this river, at
the bidding of Mahomet’s guides, the black and ugly bathe and
from it emerge purified and transformed into beings of beauty.
Mahomet drinks of the water and, again ascending by the tree,
reaches an even more beautiful place, inhabited by men both
young and old.

At this juncture Mahomet rebels against the silence of his
guides, and at last they consent to explain each vision to
him. The wretch whose head was being crushed is the hypocrite
who, though outwardly professing to honour the holy book,
fails to abide by its precepts. He whose mouth is being torn
asunder is the liar, backbiter and violator of the fast. The
swimmer in the river of blood is the usurer. Those writhing in
the furnace are adulterers. The men on the black hill being
consumed by fire are Sodomites. The man of repulsive aspect
is the steward of hell, who appoints to each his torture. The
venerable old man is Abraham, who gathers to his bosom children
who die before reaching the age of reason. The first abode is
the paradise of true believers; and Moslems, who have sinned
but die repentant, must wash away their sins in the river
before they can enter heaven. The second is the mansion of
the martyrs. All the visions explained, the guides, who make
themselves known as Gabriel and Michael, call upon Mahomet to
raise his eyes, and in amazement he beholds afar off a castle
like a white cloud. This, his guides tell him, is the celestial
mansion that awaits him, close to the throne of God. Mahomet
would fain enter it at once, but his guides dissuade him,
bidding him await his time.

6. This version shows an advance in its descriptive features, which are more suggestive of Dante’s scenes. As in the Divine Comedy, the four spheres of after-life—purgatory, Abraham’s bosom, hell, and paradise—are staged separately, although on one plane until paradise is reached by means of a tree that leads, not as in later versions, to several celestial spheres, but to one only. Neither is Mahomet led, as formerly, by one guide; although the two are angels and not, as in Dante, humans. For the first time, too, mention is made of the steward who, like Dante’s Minos, awards the tortures to the damned.[13] But these details are of less importance than other characteristic features. As in Dante,[14] Jerusalem is the starting-point in this version of the Moslem myth. Again, Dante’s commentators are agreed upon the correlativity of the punishments with the sins committed, which is also a feature in the Moslem Versions A and B—the sinner suffers in the members or organs that served the deed.[15]

7. But coincidence between Version B and Dante’s text is most marked in the torture of adulterers and usurers. The naked men and women writhing in a furnace inevitably suggest the adulterers in Dante who are incessantly swept on by the gale of hell.[16] Even more striking is Dante’s adaptation of the Moslem punishment of usurers to those who committed violence and deeds of blood. Submerged in the deep waters of a river of blood, they, like the usurers, strive to gain the shore, only to be forced back by the Centaur archers (who take the place of the simpler stone-throwers in the Moslem legend).[17] So strikingly alike are these two features that other instances of resemblance lose by comparison; as the torture of the Sodomites, burnt inwardly in the Moslem story, and rained upon by fire, in Dante[18]; or the rivers that in both legends separate purgatory from paradise and of whose sweet waters both Dante and Mahomet drink.[19]

III

SECOND CYCLE—VERSIONS OF THE “MIRAJ” OR ASCENSION

1. The legends of the second cycle date as far back as those of the first. They are, however, grouped apart, for, whereas the former are concerned almost exclusively with the _Miraj_ or ascension, the latter have as their main theme the Isra or nocturnal journey on earth.

2. There are three main versions of the legends forming this second cycle. The first and most authentic comes to us on the authority of Bukhari and Muslim and must, therefore, be considerably older than the ninth century. Of the second version only one fragment is quoted. Here the authorship is doubtful, although it is attributed to Ibn Abbas, a kinsman of Mahomet, and may thus have been the work of an Egyptian author of the ninth century, Ishac the son of Wahab. The third version is generally regarded as apocryphal; it may have been the work of a Persian of the eighth century, Maysara son of Abd ar-Rabihi, or of Omar son of Sulayman, who lived in Damascus in that century. Summaries of the three versions are as follows:—

_Version A of Cycle II_

3. In his house (or, according to other versions, in the
Mosque) at Mecca Mahomet is awakened by Gabriel, who,
either alone or helped by angels in human form, prepares
the Prophet for the ascension. His breast is opened and his
heart extracted and washed in water brought in a golden cup
from the well of Zemzem; his breast is then filled with faith
and wisdom. Thereupon Gabriel takes him by the hand, and the
ascent begins, either from the Mosque of Mecca itself or,
as in other versions, the Temple of Jerusalem. Descriptions
of the ascension differ, but, generally, Mahomet, holding
Gabriel’s hand, is made to rise through the air in flight. In
some versions (as in B of the first cycle) the two are raised
to heaven by the miraculous growth of a tree; in others, a
celestial animal, larger than an ass but smaller than a mule,
carries Mahomet, or Mahomet and his guide, from Mecca to
Jerusalem, the gates of paradise and, lastly, the Throne of
God. Of the ascension proper there are ten stages.

The first seven correspond to the seven heavens of the
astronomers, but are numbered and not named after their
respective stars. The scene at each is repeated with true
Oriental monotony. Gabriel knocks, and is asked by the guardian
who is without and, upon Gabriel’s answering, the guardian
asks whether he is alone. When the guardian is satisfied that
God has really sent Mahomet as His Prophet, he welcomes the
travellers and bids them enter. In each heaven one or more
prophets are presented to Mahomet, who is acclaimed Holy
Prophet and, at times, holy son or brother.

The order in which the prophets appear is generally: Adam,
Jesus and John, Joseph, Idris (or Enoch), Aaron, Moses, and
Abraham. Of these characteristic descriptions at times are
given. Adam is seen between two hosts of men, now smiling now
weeping, as he glances to the right and left alternately.
Mahomet learns from Gabriel that these hosts are the blessed
and the damned. The cousins Jesus and John appear together;
Jesus, of medium stature, with a fair complexion, and fresh as
if just coming from his bath. Joseph is of wonderful beauty.
Moses, with flowing curls, tall and of stately appearance,
bursts into tears when he is reminded that more Islamites will
find salvation than those of his faith. Lastly, Abraham, to
whom Mahomet bears a greater resemblance than any son, is seen
leaning against the temple wall of the celestial Jerusalem, a
replica of the earthly city. Every day seventy thousand angels
visit this temple, which in the _Koran_ is known as the _House
of Habitation_.[20]

The visit to this temple occupies the eighth stage of the
ascension, or the ninth in those versions that introduce the
vision of a gigantic tree of paradise, called in the _Koran_
the _Lotus-tree of the Boundary_[21]; for neither man nor angel
may pass beyond it when nearing God. Of fabulous size, its
leaves are as large as the ears of an elephant and its fruit,
like pitchers. From its root spring four rivers: two hidden
that water Paradise, and two visible, the Euphrates and the
Nile, that irrigate the earth. Here, or previously, Mahomet
is proffered glasses of wine, milk, and honey; he chooses the
milk and is applauded by Gabriel for so doing, inasmuch as
his religion is based on nature. The last stage has now been
reached, Mahomet beholds the Throne of God, and the Almighty
Himself reveals to him His mysteries.

Among these revelations is God’s commandment, to be transmitted
by Mahomet to his people, ordaining fifty prayers each day. On
his descent the Prophet communicates this commandment to Moses,
who urges him four times to return and beseech the Almighty to
reduce the number; and the prayers finally are reduced to five.
Again Moses calls upon him to return, but Mahomet is loth to do
so, and the descent is completed without further incident.

4. In this version there is no allusion to hell or purgatory, so that it is only to the _Paradiso_, or third part of Dante’s poem, that any resemblance exists. The general lines of action in both stories are, however, strikingly similar. Mahomet, purified like Dante, rises through the air holding Gabriel’s hand just as Dante is led by Beatrice. In both stories there are as many stages as astronomical heavens. The difference in number and designation merely denotes the superior scientific knowledge of a cultured poet whose work appeared five centuries later than the tales of those inerudite Moslem dreamers. Apart from this, it is clear that the seven heavens traversed by Mahomet are identical with those that Dante names after the seven stars of the Ptolemaic system; the Moon, Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, to which he adds the sphere of the Fixed Stars, the Crystalline heaven and the Empyrean. The counterparts of these in the Mahometan story are the three final stages: the Lotus-tree, the House of Habitation, and the Throne of God. In each ascension there are thus ten stages. Not that there is any need to labour the point of numbers, for the poet’s licence alone would have admitted of his moulding the scheme of the Moslem creation to his own ideas. What is obvious is, that in none of the so-called precursors of the Divine Comedy could Dante find so typical a model as the Moslem legend of Version A. Beatrice, human indeed, but rendered angelic through the Beatific Vision, descends from heaven with divine permission to conduct Dante to the Throne of God. Through space they fly; and likewise Gabriel leads Mahomet. In both ascensions the travellers pass through the astronomical heavens, tarrying awhile in each to converse with the blessed and receive enlightenment on theological problems. The prophets in the Moslem heavens are the saints in Dante’s poem. The literary artifice in both works is identical, no matter how they differ in art and spiritual detail.

5. Version B, given below, belongs to this cycle inasmuch as the Ascension forms the main theme. It differs from Version A, however, in that it contains the vision of hell; and for this reason it may be regarded as a first attempt to link the _Isra_ with the _Miraj_. It introduces into the _Miraj_ a description of hell, which, as a rule, is peculiar to the _Isra_ or Nocturnal Journey. The parts already given in Version A need not, therefore, be repeated; an analysis of the more typical features of B will suffice.

_Version B of Cycle II_

6. Mahomet, accompanied by Gabriel, ascends to the third
heaven, where he sees a gigantic angel, hideous and terrible
to behold, and incandescent as if a being of fire. Seated on
a bench of flame, he is intent upon forging instruments of
torture out of solid fire. Terrified, yet curious, Mahomet
learns from Gabriel that this is the Keeper of Hell. So
fierce is the Keeper’s response to Mahomet’s greeting that
the Prophet, mindful of the smiling welcomes in the other
heavens, is overcome by terror. His fears allayed by Gabriel,
who explains that the angel has been created by the Almighty
to wreak vengeance on sinners, Mahomet ventures to ask the
Keeper to let him see the regions of hell. “Thou mayst not see
them,” refuses the Keeper angrily; whereupon a voice is heard
from on high, commanding: “Oh, Angel, beware lest thou deny him
aught.” Then the Keeper opens the door so that Mahomet may peep
through; and from the opening fire and smoke burst forth, as if
to warn the Prophet of the awful sights that await him. Hell,
he sees, is formed of seven floors, one underneath the other.
The uppermost, which is reserved for deadly sins, is subdivided
into fourteen mansions, one close above the other, and each a
place of punishment for a different sin.

The first mansion is an ocean of fire comprising seventy lesser
seas, and on the shore of each sea stands a city of fire. In
each city are seventy thousand dwellings; in each dwelling,
seventy thousand coffins of fire, the tombs of men and women,
who, stung by snakes and scorpions, shriek in anguish. These
wretches, the Keeper enlightens Mahomet, were tyrants.

In the second mansion beings with blubber lips writhe under
the red-hot forks of demons, while serpents enter their
mouths and eat their bodies from within. These are faithless
guardians, devoured now by serpents even as they once devoured
the inheritances committed to their trust. Lower down usurers
stagger about, weighed down by the reptiles in their bellies.
Further, shameless women hang by the hair that they had exposed
to the gaze of man. Still further down liars and slanderers
hang by their tongues from red-hot hooks lacerating their faces
with nails of copper. Those who neglected the rites of prayer
and ablution are now monsters with the heads of dogs and the
bodies of swine and are the food of serpents. In the next
mansion drunkards suffer the torture of raging thirst, which
demons affect to quench with cups of a liquid fire that burns
their entrails. Still lower, hired mourners and professional
women singers hang head downwards and howl with pain as devils
cut their tongues with burning shears. Adulterers are tortured
in a cone-shaped furnace, as described in Version B of Cycle I;
and their shrieks are drowned by the curses of their fellow
damned at the stench of their putrid flesh. In the next mansion
unfaithful wives hang by their breasts, their hands tied to
their necks. Undutiful children are tortured in a fire by
fiends with red-hot forks. Lower down, shackled in collars of
fire, are those who failed to keep their word. Murderers are
being knifed by demons in endless expiation of their crime.
Lastly, in the fourteenth and lowest mansion of the first
storey, are being crucified on burning pillars those who failed
to keep the rule of prayer; as the flames devour them, their
flesh is seen gradually to peel off their bones.

At the request of Mahomet, now horror-stricken and on the verge
of swooning, the Keeper closes the door, bidding the Prophet
warn his people of what he has seen. Other more terrible
tortures, he enjoins him, are inflicted in the six other
floors, the cruelty increasing with the depth. This closes the
scene, and Mahomet, as in Version A of Cycle II, continues his
ascent.

7. At first sight there would seem to be no likeness between this episode and the Divine Comedy. The two essential parts, the visions of paradise and hell, appear, not as in Dante in separate settings and at different times, but illogically intermingled. It is in the third heaven that Mahomet witnesses the tortures of hell—not, as in former versions, before his ascent. But, if this circumstance is overlooked and the episode of hell considered apart from the ascension, a singular likeness to the Inferno will be apparent.

8. Above all, this version unquestionably provides the prototype of Dante’s architecture of the realm of pain. How he mapped out his Inferno everybody knows[22]: a huge, funnel-shaped chasm down into the centre of the earth, with nine tiers of steps, stages, or strata, each a prison and place of punishment for a separate class of sinners. The greater the depth of the mansion, the greater the sin and the torture inflicted. Some of the circles are subdivided into three or more tiers, which correspond to as many grades of sin. The resemblance to the legend will be at once apparent. The Moslem hell is similarly formed of floors or tiers that get lower as the sin is greater. Each floor is the mansion of one class of sinner; and each has its tiers, one above the other, that correspond to the various subcategories of the sin. True, the number of main floors in each story differs, but this is of little moment when compared with other striking similarities in matters where a merely artistic imitation would not have required so strict an adherence to the model. Any other plan could have been adopted by Dante, but he preferred to follow the Moslem model, with its great divisions and subdivisions. This scheme admirably served his purpose for what Dante students term the moral architecture of the Inferno; that is to say, the distribution and punishment of the souls in accordance with their crimes. On one point only do the topographies differ—no mention is made of the Islamic hell’s being situated below the earth. But the legend merely states that Mahomet _saw_ hell from the third heaven, not that hell _was_ there itself. For the present, however, this point is of secondary interest and will be dealt with at greater length in later chapters.

Suffice it to have established the fact that the architecture of the Inferno had its counterpart in the religious tales of Islam as far back as the ninth century. The other features of resemblance between this version and Dante’s poem are of minor interest.

9. Mahomet’s meeting with the Keeper of Hell, however, obviously has its parallel in the scene where Dante is refused passage by the boatman Caronte and grim Minos.[23] The poet has merely reproduced the Moslem scene in a more artistic form, adapted from the classical mythology. The Moslem Keeper, wrathful and glowing like red hot coal; his curt refusal to open the door; and the imperious command from on high—all seem like rough sketches of Dante’s boatman, a “demon with eyes like red hot coals, shooting forth flames,” whose voice is raised in anger as he exclaims: “I will not pass thee to the other shore,” and who ultimately yields at the command from heaven, rendered by Virgil: “Fret not, Caronte, so is it willed up yonder, where every will is law; question no more.” A further analogy is afforded by the scene where “dread Minos,” the Keeper of Hell itself, at the entrance mercilessly appoints the tortures to the damned. In a fury he drives the poet away until Virgil intervenes saying: “Hinder him not; his journey is ordained by fate.” The words would seem to be an echo of the heavenly warning in the Moslem legend: “Beware lest thou deny him aught.”

This dual scene is introduced by Dante, under various disguises, into other circles of the Inferno. At the entrance to the fourth circle Plutus assumes the role of Caronte and Minos.[24] In the fifth circle Phlegyas, and later the devils at the gates of Dis, repeat the scene with the self-same parleys.[25] On this last occasion it is an angel from heaven who transmits the order that allows the travellers to pass.[26] In the seventh circle Minotaurus offers the resistance, which again is overcome by Virgil.[27] In the fifth pit of the eighth circle demons for the last time vainly strive to bar their way.[28]

10. Meantime, there are other actual features of resemblance. The violent burst of flame that meets Dante at the entrance to the first circle of the Inferno[29] compares with the fire that escapes through the door as Mahomet is about to scan the first stage of hell in the Moslem legend.

Here again the first of the fourteen tiers is evidently the model of Dante’s city of Dis. On reaching the shores of the Stygian Lake,[30] Dante “clearly distinguishes its towers ... glowing with the heat of a fiery furnace; and the eternal fire which consumes the city from within spreads over all a reddish hue.”

Dis, therefore, is a city of fire, as is the city in the Moslem hell. Again, once within its walls,[31] Virgil and Dante see the countless tombs, each a bed of fire, wherein, in coffins of red hot iron, lie the arch-heretics crying aloud in agony. This is undeniably a copy of the vision where Mahomet sees an ocean of fire, on whose shores stand cities aflame with thousands of red hot coffins in which tyrants in agony expiate their crimes.

11. A minute examination of the tortures described in the fourteen minor stages of the Moslem hell will also show that the Florentine poet with no great imaginative effort might well have used these as plans for his great images. Thus, the picture of the reptiles stinging the tyrants, the faithless guardians and the usurers in the various tiers of the Moslem hell recurs in the circles of the Inferno where gluttons and thieves are so tortured.[32] The torture of maddening thirst, suffered by drunkards in the seventh stage of the Moslem hell, is applied to forgers in the tenth pit of Dante’s eighth circle[33]; and the latter with their swollen bellies have their prototype in the Moslem usurers. In the same circle Griffolino of Arezzo and Capocchio of Sienna scratch the scales off their leprous sores,[34] like the slanderers of the fifth Moslem stage who lacerate their faces with finger-nails of bronze. The undutiful children whom Mahomet sees in the eleventh tier, suffer a similar torture to the _barattieri_ in the fifth pit of circle eight, who are kept squirming in a lake of burning pitch by demons armed with spears.[35] Lastly, the Moslem torture of murderers (in the thirteenth tier), who are being perpetually knifed and resuscitated, is clearly the model of Dante’s punishment, in the ninth valley of the eighth circle, of the authors of schism.[36] Here, indeed, in sarcastic vein, he places Mahomet, the very protagonist of the legend upon which he probably based his work.

12. Closely related to this version and belonging to the same cycle is Version C. Here again the main theme is the ascension, although an abortive attempt is made to introduce the vision of hell into the ascension. The last episodes of the _Miraj_, which in A and B are merely alluded to, are mainly dealt with. Version C is chiefly characterised by hyperbole and repetition. The fantastic depiction of the heavenly scenes and persons is in striking contrast to the gross materialism shown in the Koran. For his images the author relies almost exclusively upon light, colour and music.

The following is an epitome of this version, the text of which _in extenso_ makes tedious reading.

_Version C of Cycle II_

13. (_a_) In the first heaven Mahomet, with Gabriel, sees a
gigantic cock, with a body of bright green and plumage of
dazzling white, whose wings stretch across the horizon and
whose head touches the Throne of God. Ever and anon it beats
its wings and chants a song of praise to God, a song that is
taken up by all the cocks on earth.[37]

(_b_) He then beholds an angel, half of snow and half of fire,
who calls on all creatures of heaven and earth to unite in a
bond of fellow love, symbolised in his own body by the blending
of the two contrasting elements.

(_c_) Proceeding, he sees, seated and holding the universe on
his knees, another angel gazing fixedly on a beam of light upon
which writing can be seen. This, Gabriel tells him, is the
Angel of Death who wrests the soul from the body. The guide
describes the anguish of the soul at death and its exodus
from the body; the preliminary judgment by the angels Munkar
and Nakir and the fate of the soul up till the last day of
judgment. He then presents the Prophet to the Angel, who moves
Mahomet to tears by his description of the part played by him
at the hour of death.

(_d_) Continuing their journey, Mahomet and his guide come upon
the Keeper of Hell. This angel’s description is identical with
that in Version B; and the same episode is repeated almost
literally, with one exception: when the door of hell is opened,
Mahomet recoils from the flames and beseeches Gabriel to have
the angel close the door. Mahomet’s visit to hell thus comes to
nought in this version.

(_e_) Farther on, they meet hosts of angels, with countless
faces on their breasts and backs, who chant unending hymns of
praise to God.

(Here the legend goes on to describe the ascension up to the
sixth heaven but omits the scenes of the spheres depicted in
versions A and B. The author’s intention seemed to be the
completion of the other versions by adding the visions that
followed after the heavens of the astronomers.)

(_f_) Another multitude of angels is encountered in the sixth
heaven. The body of each angel is studded with wings and
faces, and all their members have tongues with which in fear
and humility they sing songs of praise to God. These, Gabriel
explains, are the cherubim, destined to remain eternally in
the same attitude of obeisance to God. They may not look
at or speak to one another; neither may they look upwards
or downwards to the heavens below. Mahomet’s greeting they
acknowledge by gestures, with eyes downcast. When Gabriel tells
them who Mahomet is, they bid him welcome and renew their song
of praise to the Almighty.

(_g_) Wrapt in admiration, the Prophet is led by Gabriel to
behold in the seventh heaven other still more marvellous
angels. But here Mahomet states that “he dare not relate what
he saw there nor describe those angels”; he merely states
that “at that moment God gave him a strength equal to that of
all the beings on earth, and a new power which seemed to be
of God Himself, that enabled him to turn his eyes upon those
angels, the dazzling light of whom would otherwise have blinded
him.” Gabriel explains to him the origin of those marvellous
creatures, but again Mahomet “may not relate” what his guide
has told him.

(_h_) Gabriel now leads him by the hand up to the heaven
of theology, the Divine Dwelling itself. A description of
this abode occupies the greater part of the version. Seventy
rows of gigantic angels appear before him, bearing, like the
others, innumerable wings and faces. “The dazzling brilliance
of the light with which they shone would have blinded all who
endeavoured to behold them.” Mahomet is stricken with terror,
but is comforted by Gabriel, who assures him that he has yet to
see still greater marvels; for God has vouchsafed to him alone
of mortals the privilege of ascending to mansions even more
sublime. In a flash they rise to a height that in the ordinary
course could only be attained in fifty thousand years. Here,
other seventy rows of angels, similar to the former, chant
sweet choruses of divine praise. The scene is repeated until a
total of seven throngs, each numbering seventy rows of angels,
is reached. So close to one another are they that they would
seem to form one mighty heavenly host. Mahomet is awed, and
at this point he interrupts his story to exclaim: “It seemed
to me then as if I had lost all memory of the other marvels
of creation. True, it is not meet that I should speak of what
I saw; but even might I do so, I were not able to convey it
by words. But, had it been that I was to die of terror before
my allotted span was o’er, I surely would have died when I
beheld these angels, the marvel of their forms and the rays of
light emitted by them, and hearkened to the murmur of their
voices. But God in His great mercy comforted me and renewed
my strength, so that I might listen to their hymns of praise;
He gave power unto my eyes, that I might behold their light.”
Mahomet sees that those seven throngs “surround the Throne of
God, Whose praises they sing.”

(_i_) The seven stages that follow are monotonous in the
recurrence of exactly the same scenes and the simile of
the sea in each. Mahomet and his guide are wafted into “a
boundless sea of light irradiating with such intensity that
his vision becomes blurred and all creation appears flooded
with the refulgence and consumed in flame.” Purblinded and
terror-stricken, Mahomet proceeds, now to cross a sea of utter
darkness. The violent contrast adds to his fears, and he
fancies that the whole universe is wrapt in darkness. His guide
appears to have forsaken him; but Gabriel, taking him by the
hand, explains that these scenes are but the portents of their
approach to God. In the next stage a sea of fire, whose waves
of flame emit sparks and crackle loudly, again strikes terror
into the Prophet’s heart. “I verily thought”—he then exclaims
“that the entire universe had caught fire; in terror I raised
my hand to my eyes to blot out the sight and turned to Gabriel.”

(_j_) Again reassured by his guide, he now traverses “a range
of immense mountains of snow, whose lofty peaks tower one
above the other as far as the eye can reach and whose intense
whiteness sheds a light as bright as the rays of the sun”;
and again the Prophet stands lost in amazement. When he sees
beyond the snowy heights another sea of fire burning still more
fiercely than the first and that the flames of the two seas
cannot be quenched by the snowy barrier, his terror grows, and
Gabriel redoubles his effort to calm him. The next stage brings
them to an immense ocean of water, whose mighty waves rise
like lofty mountains to break ceaselessly one upon the other.
Amidst the waters Mahomet sees angels with myriad wings who
shed a light of such intensity as to baffle description. “Had
it not been,” Mahomet confesses, “that God gave me strength
..., their light had surely blinded my eyes and my body had
been scorched by the fire of their faces.” Dumbfounded, the
Prophet sees that the enormous waves do not even touch the
knees of these angels, whose heads, Gabriel explains, reach up
to the Throne of the Most High, to Whom their voices are ever
raised in harmonious adoration.

(_k_) The last stage is again a sea of light, the refulgence of
which Mahomet paints in terms of extreme hyperbole, at the same
time regretting that “he could not describe it, were he to make
the utmost effort.” “The rays,” he says, “so nearly blinded me
that I saw nothing.” A fervid prayer, offered up by his angel
guide, saves him from blindness. “God,” he insists, “gave
strength and clearness to my vision, so that I might behold
these rays ... and scan the whole expanse with my eyes. But ...
it seemed to me as if the heavens and earth and all the things
therein glittered and burned, and again my vision was dimmed.
The red light changed to yellow, then white, and then green,
and at length the colours were blended in one luminous mass, so
lustrous that once more my vision failed me.” Another prayer
from Gabriel and Mahomet’s sight is restored and strengthened.
Then does he see, “encompassed by that sea of light and drawn
up in one serried row, other angels circling round the Throne
of God.” The loveliness of these visions defies description,
and here Mahomet falls back on his wonted subterfuge that, even
were it lawful, he could not tell a hundredth part of what he
saw. He merely observes that those angels, with eyes downcast,
sang sweet hymns of praise; and “as they sang, a flame of light
which enveloped the Divine Throne shone as fire from out their
mouths.” Aghast, Mahomet learns from Gabriel that these, with
all other angels in the realms above the sixth heaven, are
Cherubim.

(_l_) The main and final stage of the ascension now begins.
In the words of the Prophet: “Higher and higher through the
celestial ether we rose, faster than the arrow speeding from
the bow, yea, swifter than the wind. And at last we reached
the Throne of the Glorious, Supreme and Almighty One; and,
as I gazed upon it, all the works of creation sank into
insignificance. The seven heavens, the seven earths, the seven
hells ... the whole of creation, compared to that throne, was
like a tiny ring of the mesh of a coat of mail lying in the
midst of a boundless desert.”

(_m_) As, lost in wonder, Mahomet stands before the Throne,
a green wreath descends, and the Prophet is carried by it
into the presence of God Himself. Astounded at the marvellous
vision before him, he again and for the last time confesses his
inability to describe it. “I saw a thing so great that neither
tongue could tell of nor mind conceive it. So dazzled were my
eyes that I feared I should lose my sight. However, endowed by
God with a spiritual vision, I began to contemplate all that I
had in vain tried to see before; and I saw a light so bright
... but it is not meet that I should describe the majesty of
His Light. I then beseeched the Lord my God to bestow upon me
steadiness of vision, and by His grace this came to me. Then
only were the veils drawn aside, and I beheld Him seated upon
His Throne in all His majesty and glory, irradiating a sublime
brilliance ... but more it is not meet that I should tell of
Him.” God now deigns to draw the Prophet nigh to Him; and, when
Mahomet feels the Divine hands upon his shoulders and looks
upon the radiance of His face, he is thrilled to the core.
Intense delight pervades his soul, and, as if by enchantment,
his fears are dispelled. “Methought,” he says, “when I looked
upon my Master that all creatures in heaven and earth had
vanished, for lo I saw nothing else, neither did I hear the
voices of the angels. When at length it pleased Him to break
the Divine spell, it seemed to me as if I had awakened from a
deep sleep, and I had to ponder before I came to understand
where I was and to what height God in His great mercy had
chosen to exalt me.” In an intimate discourse God now reveals
to the Prophet that he has been chosen as His messenger to
all the peoples of creation and that his nation shall be the
greatest of all nations upon earth. Enraptured, Mahomet listens
to the Deity’s words, when suddenly a curtain of flaming light
is drawn before his eyes and the Almighty is hidden from his
view.

(_n_) The wreath that had borne him to the Throne now carries
Mahomet to where Gabriel is waiting, and disappears on high.
It is at this juncture that Mahomet becomes aware of the
marvellous change the Beatific Vision has wrought in his being.
“Lo, my God and Master had so strengthened my spiritual power
of sight that with my heart I now saw what lay behind me as
with my eyes I could see what was in front.” He is astounded,
but Gabriel explains the phenomenon and calls upon him to
exercise his powers of vision, in order that, from their
sublime height, he may embrace in one sweeping glance the
splendour of the whole universe. With ease he can now behold
all the marvellous and glittering lights that had well-nigh
blinded him before: the Divine Throne, the curtain around it,
the oceans and the mountains of the theological heaven, the
cherubim, and, finally, the astronomical heavens shining in all
their radiance underneath. He can even see the surface of the
earth.

(_o_) Lost in contemplation, Mahomet hearkens to the harmony of
the angels. “Lo,” he says, “I heard the voices of the cherubim
as, around the Throne of God, they chanted hymns of praise to
the Almighty. Each note could I distinguish: the clear trebles;
whisperings as of leaves stirring in the wind; soft, plaintive
notes like the cooing of the dove; gentle murmurs like the
humming of bees; and ever and anon loud bursts as of thunder.”
The solemnity of the angelic music is reflected in the
Prophet’s mind. Perturbed, he is again heartened by Gabriel,
who impresses on him that he is the chosen of the Lord, Who to
him alone has shown the mercy of allowing him to rise to His
Almighty Throne; soon will he see the heavenly mansion that
awaits him. Gabriel now strives to interpret to the Prophet the
marvels he has witnessed: the seas of light, darkness, fire,
water, pearls and snow are the veils shrouding the glory of
the Throne of God; and the angels in the spheres down to the
sixth heaven are the guardians of the Throne. The duty of the
angels in the lower heavens is to sing praises to God. The
spirit (Gabriel himself) ranks above all these; and next to him
comes Israfil. The angels in the highest sphere who encircle
the Throne are cherubim; and so strong is the light they emit
that no angel in the lower spheres dare raise his eyes towards
them lest he be blinded; and so it is with the angels in the
circles lower still; they dare not look at those above them
lest blindness overcome them.

(_p_) Gabriel’s explanations finished, the descent begins,
and “swifter than the arrow and the wind” is their flight.
The description of the gardens of paradise in this legend is
merely a detailed reproduction of the paradise of the Koran.
The Lotus-tree of the Boundary reappears here as a tree of
fabulous magnitude, whose branches, laden with leaves, whereon
dwell the celestial spirits, extend throughout paradise. The
portrayal of the Kauthar, the river of paradise, is also based
on the Koranic description.[38] Another tree, the Tree of
Happiness,[39] also from the Koran, gives the inspiration for
the picture of the mansions of the blessed—a picture in which
the spiritual tone, predominant in other visions, is absent.
The last stage of the journey is through the astronomical
heavens, and on their way Mahomet tells the prophets he meets
of the marvels he has seen. At the same place on earth where he
had called upon him to undertake the ascension, Gabriel leaves
Mahomet. The legend ends with Mahomet’s astounding assertion
that he accomplished the whole journey in a single night.

14. The monotonous style, the excessive hyperbole and the constant repetition, coupled with the entire absence of spiritual effect in the last episode, make it difficult to associate this version with the artistic poem of Dante. The most idealistic part of the Divine Comedy is undoubtedly the Paradiso; and it would, therefore, be as well, before attempting to compare the two works, to remind the reader that the final episode of Version C must be regarded as an addition cleverly introduced by the author to invest the legend with a semblance of authenticity and orthodoxy. For at bottom the tale reflects little of the mind of Mahomet, a polygamist and warrior who led men to battle. It would rather seem to betray a Moslem with leanings towards neo-Platonism, or a follower of the _Ishraqi_ and pseudo-Empedoclean school, so addicted to the usage of similes of light and geometrical circles in the illustration of metaphysical ideas.[40] It should also be borne in mind that, in the tenth century, the authorship of this legend was attributed, not to an Arab, but a Persian, by name Maysara, the son of Abd ar-Rabihi. It is possible that, living in the eighth century, this Persian had retained some traces of the Zoroastrian creeds of his native country, which had just been forcibly converted to Islamism.

The reader, then, before attempting to compare the two works, should cast one more glance at the Paradiso. Let him divest the poem of its discourses and dialogues, the theological doctrine it breathes, its philosophical and astronomical lore and the allusions to Italian history with which it is replete, and he will be able, with both works thus reduced to their simplest outline, to proceed with a methodical comparison.

15. The most striking analogy between the two works is the idealistic tone of the general description of paradise. Dante students have emphasised the gulf that divides his paradise in this respect from any previous conceptions.[41] Departing from the beaten track of a material heaven, the poet made use of the intangible, the most delicate phenomena of nature. In his celestial spheres life is a feast of light and sound, and his paradise, the realm of mind emancipated from the body.

And light and song also figure largely in the descriptions of paradise of this Version C. Apart from the sea of darkness, introduced as a contrast to the seas of light and fire, the scenes and personal descriptions in the principal stages of Mahomet’s Ascension are drawn in a perspective of light, just as are those of Dante. The twenty odd scenes of the main action, and more especially Mahomet’s progress through the seventh astronomical sphere, are set in the most vivid colours. The angels, too, although at times shown in human form and at others, as monstrous shapes, irradiate a splendour that dazzles the eyes of the spectator. A comparison of these with numerous similar descriptions in the Paradiso makes it clear that in both stories the element of light reigns supreme.[42] Beatrice grows in brilliance at each stage of the Ascension. The spirits of the blessed in each sphere and in the Empyrean appear to Dante as resplendent lights, at times assuming the shape of a crown or wreath, at others, appearing in the allegorical form of the iris, the cross, the eagle and so forth. God Himself is a light of ineffable brilliance, and the choirs of angels around him are brilliant orbs of light. A luminous effect likewise marks each stage of Dante’s journey. But a more detailed comparison of the employment of light in the two legends will be made later on.

And as with light so it is with sound. Excepting the Angel of Death and the Keeper of Hell, all the angels Mahomet meets sing songs of praise to the Lord. The words of these anthems, taken from the Koran, are at times transcribed literally by Mahomet. On completing the ascension, he again hears the angels in a symphony that he seeks to describe by similes taken from the sounds of nature. In Dante’s poem also the celestial spirits sing hymns of praise from the Holy Scriptures, and the poet attempts to convey the majesty of the harmony by comparing it with sounds of nature and music.[43]

16. But these are general features of resemblance. Many of the actual passages are either similar or identical, which still further proves the close relationship between the two legends.

On various occasions Mahomet dwells upon the speed of his flight, and twice he likens it to the wind and the shaft sped from the bow. The latter simile is used by Dante in telling of his ascent to the heaven of the Moon and of Mars[44]; the former, when he describes the flight of the souls that come to meet him in the sphere of Venus. Again, he compares the ascension of the souls in the heaven of Saturn to the rush of a whirlwind.[45]

Inability to describe what he sees is an expedient to which Mahomet often has resort. Dante affects this hyperbole in his prologue and in five other Cantos: in the sphere of the Sun; in the heaven of Gemini; in the Empyrean; when he beholds the Virgin Mary; and in his last episode when he deals with the mystery of the Holy Trinity.[46]

It will further be noted that Mahomet’s pretext, “that it is not lawful that he should tell of what he saw,” is found to recur frequently in the Paradiso.[47]