PROBABILITY OF THE TRANSMISSION OF ISLAMIC MODELS TO CHRISTIAN
EUROPE AND PARTICULARLY TO DANTE
I. INTRODUCTION:
1. Literary imitation dependent on three conditions, viz.
resemblance between model and copy; priority of the
former; and communication between the two 237
2. The similarity in artistic representation of the life beyond
the grave is conclusive proof 237
3. Three headings under which evidence of contact may be
furnished 238
II. COMMUNICATION BETWEEN ISLAM AND CHRISTIAN EUROPE DURING THE
MIDDLE AGES:
1. Trade; pilgrimages to the Holy Land; the Crusades;
Missions to Islam 239
2. Norman expeditions and conquest of Sicily. The Sicilian
court under the Norman dynasty a centre of Moslem culture 240
3. Contact in Spain. The Mozarabs; the slaves; the Jews;
other intermediaries 242
4. The Mudejars and the court of Toledo. Archbishop Raymond’s
School of Translators 244
5. The court of Alphonso the Wise and the inter-denominational
colleges of Murcia and Seville 245
III. TRANSMISSION OF THE MOSLEM LEGENDS ON THE AFTER-LIFE TO
CHRISTIAN EUROPE AND DANTE:
1. Probability of their transmission through any of the
channels mentioned 246
2. Moslem Spain a likely channel 247
3. The knowledge of Moslem legendary lore possessed by the
Mozarabs 248
4. The legend of the “Miraj” probably included in the
“Summa” of Robert of Reading 248
5. The legend of the “Miraj” in the “Historia Arabum” of
Archbishop Rodrigo and the “Estoria d’Espanna” of
Alphonso the Wise 249
6. The “Miraj” and other legends of the after-life in the
“Impunaçion de la seta de Mahomah” of St. Peter
Paschal 250
7. The legend probably transmitted to Italy by St. Peter
Paschal 251
8. The knowledge of Arabic learning possessed by Dante’s
master, Brunetto Latini 252
9. Brunetto may have learnt of the legend of the “Miraj”
during his mission to the court of Alphonso the Wise,
and have transmitted his knowledge to his disciple 253
IV. THE ATTRACTION FELT BY DANTE TOWARDS ARABIC CULTURE CONFIRMS
THE HYPOTHESIS OF IMITATION:
1. Need of this final enquiry 256
2. The receptiveness of Dante’s mind such that he cannot
have felt aversion to Arabic culture 256
3. Signs of Dante’s liking for the Semitic languages 258
4. Evidence of his thorough knowledge of the history of
Islam; the torture of Mahomet and Ali 259
5. Dante’s liking for Arabic culture shown by the use he makes
of the works of the astronomers and the exemption from
hell of Saladin, Avicenna and Averrhoes 261
6. Sigier of Brabant, the champion of Averrhoism, placed in
paradise 262
7. Bruno Nardi’s explanation of this enigma; Dante’s philosophy
akin rather to that of Avicenna and Averrhoes
than to that of St. Thomas 263
V. THE CLOSE RESEMBLANCE BETWEEN DANTE AND THE MYSTIC, IBN ARABI
OF MURCIA, FURNISHES FURTHER PROOF OF THE THESIS OF IMITATION:
1. Dante’s relation to the Illuministic Mystics mooted 263
2. General parallel between the Illuministic images used by
both authors 264
3. Comparison of their expository methods. The cabbala
of letters and numbers; astrological subtleties;
personification of abstract entities; interpretation
of dream visions 265
4. Particular parallel between Dante’s vision of Love (_Vita
Nuova_, XII) and similar visions described by Ibn Arabi 266
5. Striking analogy of Dante’s “Cancionero” and its
allegorical commentary, the “Convito,” to Ibn Arabi’s
book of songs, “The Interpreter of Love,” and its
allegorical commentary, “The Treasures of Lovers” 267
6. The _dolce stil nuovo_ poetry and Vossler’s hypothesis as
to its origin 271
7. Earlier examples of this type of poetry in Islam. Romantic
love in profane literature. The “Necklace of the Dove,”
or “Book of Love,” of Ibn Hazm of Cordova 272
8. The mystical love of woman in Sufi literature. Woman as
an angel and a symbol of Divine wisdom. The phenomena
of love analysed and allegorically interpreted in Ibn
Arabi’s _Futuhat_ 274
9. Epilogue. The eschatology of Islam and the conceptions
of Ibn Arabi as a key to the riddles in Dante and a
remote reflex of Christian spirituality 275
ISLAM AND THE DIVINE COMEDY
PART I
_THE LEGEND OF THE NOCTURNAL JOURNEY AND ASCENSION OF MAHOMET COMPARED
WITH THE DIVINE COMEDY_
PART I
_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]
The feature, however, that shows most conclusively the affinity between
the two stories is the one that is repeated _ad nauseam_ in the Mahometan
Ascension. At each stage of heaven Mahomet is dazzled by the lights, and
each time he is fearful of being blinded. Repeatedly he raises his hands
to his eyes to shield them from the intense radiance, and in the end he
becomes dazed. Gabriel then intercedes with God and Mahomet is granted
a new, preternatural vision, that enables him to look freely upon the
lights that before had dimmed his sight.
This scene is reproduced, often with the same words, in more than ten
episodes of Dante’s Paradiso. In the sphere of the Moon it is the
splendour of Beatrice[48]; in Mars, the image of Our Lord surrounded
by the Martyrs[49]; in the sphere of the Fixed Stars, the light of the
Apostle James, when the poet exclaims[50]: “As who doth gaze and strain
to see the sun eclipsed a space, who by looking grows bereft of sight,
so did I to this last flame.”[51] In the eighth sphere the refulgence of
Christ in the image of a sun blurs the poet’s vision[52]; at the instance
of Beatrice, however, he again tries his eyesight and finally discerns
amid the shadows a brilliant star, the symbol of the Archangel Gabriel;
the movements of this star his eyes have not the strength to follow.[53]
In the ninth sphere the brilliance of the Divine Essence is such that he
has to close his eyes.[54] In the tenth sphere the Triumph of the Blessed
calls forth from the poet[55]: “As a sudden flash of lightning which so
shattereth the visual spirits as to rob the eye of power to realize e’en
strongest objects; so there shone around me a living light, leaving me
swathed in such a web of its glow that naught appeared to me.” But his
fears are assuaged by Beatrice, and he adds[56]: “So soon as these brief
words came into me I felt me to surmount my proper power; and kindled
me with such new-given sight that there is no such brightness unalloyed
that mine eyes might not hold their own with it.” In the Ninth Canto,
when he beholds the apotheosis of the Divine Essence, he introduces a
still more far-fetched hyperbole. St. Bernard, guiding Dante in the place
of Beatrice, pleads with the Virgin to grant Dante the favour of being
raised to the Divine Light. His eyes, strengthened, slowly take in the
immense, trinal light, but he says[57]: “I hold that by the keenness of
the living ray which I endured I had been lost had mine eyes turned aside
from it. And so I was the bolder, as I mind me, so long to sustain it as
to unite my glance with the Worth infinite. Oh grace abounding, wherein I
presumed to fix my look on the eternal light so long that I consumed my
sight thereon.”
17. The principal part played by Gabriel in the ascension is to guide
Mahomet and act as his adviser and comforter; and this very role is
assigned by Dante to Beatrice. Gabriel, however, at times plays a further
part, as, for instance, when he prays to God to help Mahomet and calls
upon the Prophet to thank the Lord for allowing him to visit heaven. A
parallel scene appears in the Tenth Canto of the Paradiso. In the sphere
of the sun, Beatrice exclaims[58]: “Give thanks, give thanks to the sun
of the angels, who of his grace hath to this sun of sense exalted thee.”
And in the ensuing verses Dante pours forth heartfelt thanksgivings
and effusions of divine love. The prayers offered up for Dante are too
well known to call for special mention.[59] The most striking analogy,
however, is seen in the following. In the Paradiso Beatrice leads Dante
only as far as the Empyrean, where St. Bernard takes her place[60].
In the Moslem legend, Gabriel leaves Mahomet to accomplish the last
stage alone; and he is conveyed to the Divine Throne by a luminous and
spiritual wreath. And herein lies another noteworthy similarity. The
wreath which descends from on high and bears Mahomet up to the Divinity
has its parallel in the “facella, formata in cerchio a guisa di corona”
that Dante sees in the eighth heaven descending from the Empyrean,
whither it returns escorting the Virgin Mary.[61]
The solutions furnished by Beatrice, or as on occasion the blessed, to
Dante’s problems of theology and philosophy, have each an equivalent in
the Mahometan ascension. Here, although occasionally it is an angel,
such as the Angel of Death and the angel guarding hell, that gives the
interpretation, it devolves chiefly upon Gabriel to explain the riddles
of the Moslem hereafter. Especially remarkable is the likeness between
the final episode of the Moslem ascension, when Gabriel in the highest
heaven explains to Mahomet who the angels inhabiting the celestial
spheres are, and Beatrice’s long dissertation in the ninth heaven on the
nature and being of the various angelic hosts. Further, Beatrice and
Gabriel are agreed upon assigning to the cherubim a place in the circles
nearest to God and the other circles to angels of lesser rank.[62] True,
the Christian angelology, although derived from the same Hebrew theology
and Alexandrine metaphysics, differs from the Islamic on several points;
but, considered from a literary point of view, this does not affect the
analogy in episode.
18. Let the reader now turn to some of Dante’s angelic visions and,
first, to that of the gigantic eagle formed of thousands of angels that
the poet sees in the Heaven of Jupiter.[63] All Dante students have
admired its beauty and originality; and yet it is surely admissible to
proffer the suggestion that the picture was inspired by Mahomet’s vision
of the gigantic cock, at the outset of his ascension. If the unpoetical
nature of this domestic fowl, when comparing it with the eagle, the
king of the air and, in classical mythology, the attribute of Jove,
be disregarded, it will be seen that there is a strong resemblance
between the two conceptions. To begin with, Dante’s eagle is a being
of innumerable spirits with wings and faces. These, the spirits of the
blessed, emit an irridescent light and chant in harmony hymns calling
upon mankind to lead a righteous life. As it chants, the eagle flaps its
wings and then comes to rest.[64]
The cock of the Moslem legend is also a gigantic bird that beats its
wings as it chants religious songs, calling mankind to prayer, and then
sits at rest. Version C certainly makes no allusion to the spiritual
nature of the bird, but other versions and various authentic _hadiths_
expressly state that it is an angel. In addition, in the Moslem legend,
visions of gigantic angels, each comprising a monstrous agglomeration
of wings and faces, repeatedly recur; and these angels too, resplendent
with light, chant with their innumerable tongues hymns of praise. So
consummate an artist as Dante might very well have combined these two
images to produce the hybrid and yet most beautiful picture of the eagle.
The angels with wings of gold that fly over the mystic rose, by which
the abode of bliss in the Paradiso is symbolised,[65] also appear to be
copied from Mahomet’s vision in the first heaven, where an angel of snow
and fire appears. For these angels also: “had their faces all of living
flame ... and the rest so white that never snow reacheth such limit.”
19. But the similarities extend even to the general outlines of entire
passages. In the sphere of the Fixed Stars, Beatrice calls upon Dante to
cast his eyes downwards and endeavour to see how many worlds lie beneath
his feet, in order to prove whether his vision has been strengthened.
Dante exclaims: “With my sight I turned back through all and every
of the seven spheres, and saw this globe such that I smiled at its
sorry semblance.” “And all the seven were displayed to me, how great
they are and swift, and how distant each from other in repair.” “The
thrashing-floor which maketh us wax so fierce, as I rolled with the
eternal twins, was all revealed to me from ridge to river-mouth.”[66]
It is surely obvious that the general scheme of this passage is at once a
faithful copy and skilful combination of two episodes of Version C: when
Mahomet beholds the Divine Throne, whose magnificence makes all former
visions pale into insignificance, and compares its infinite grandeur with
the now dwarfed appearance of the universe; and when, his spirit having
experienced the ecstasy of the Beatific Vision, he is asked by Gabriel to
cast his eyes downwards and test his supernatural power of sight. With
one wondering glance—the legend runs—he embraces the whole universe, his
eyes penetrating the celestial and astronomical spheres beneath his feet
right down to the surface of the earth.
20. A final and irrefutable argument, however, may be based on the
last episode crowning the Paradiso, when Dante beholds the Beatific
Vision of the Divine Essence in all its splendour. An examination of
this vision will prove of interest. The Divine Essence is the luminous
centre of nine concentric circles of angelic spirits who, revolving
unceasingly around it, sing Hosannahs to the Lord. Each circle comprises
countless angels.[67] The two first circles are those of the seraphim
and cherubim. Dante is unable to fix his gaze on the light but soon his
sight is strengthened and he can behold it steadily. He admits that he is
powerless to describe the vision, for the ecstasy of the moment effaced
all memory of it but, even were he able to recall the vision, ’twere
not possible for mortal to describe it. Dante’s attempts to picture
the Trinity and the Incarnation need not be taken into consideration.
His description of the vision is reduced to a vague recollection of
the subjective phenomena: steady and progressive mental contemplation,
a trance in which he is wrapt in admiration, and a feeling of intense
delight and spiritual sweetness that pervades his soul.[68]
Dante students have long and in vain sought the origin of this sublime
apotheosis, for none of the religious legends, so critically studied by
the great scholars, Labitte, D’Ancona, Ozanam and Graf, furnishes the
least resemblance in geometrical conception to these concentric circles
of angels who ever revolve around the Divine Light. Nevertheless, the
striking likeness between Dante’s poem and the Moslem legend conclusively
proves the strength of our argument. In the latter, too, rows of angels,
each row representing a different rank, with the Cherubim nearest,
surround the Divine Throne. These angels also chant anthems in honour of
the Lord and radiate streams of light; and the number of rows again is
nine. Thus do they also in nine concentric circles revolve unceasingly
around the Throne of God—a God who in both stories is depicted as a focus
of ineffable light. Again, both protagonists describe the Beatific Vision
twice—Mahomet, when, before undertaking the last stage of his Ascension
and still accompanied by Gabriel, he first discerns the Divine Throne,
and again when Gabriel has left him; and Dante, when, with Beatrice, he
beholds the Divine Apotheosis from the ninth heaven and a second time
in the final Canto. The psychological effects on both are also similar.
Mahomet, too, is dazzled and fears lest he be blinded; then God bestows
upon him steadiness of vision, so that he can fix his eyes upon the
Divine Light; he also is incapable of describing the Throne and can only
recall that he experienced a rapture of the soul, preceded by a sensation
of intense delight.
The stories have many other minor points in common, but the chief
features of resemblance as given above will perhaps suffice to establish
proof of the affinity between the two.
IV
THIRD CYCLE—FUSION OF THE VERSIONS OF THE “ISRA” AND THE “MIRAJ”
1. The legends of this cycle really form a synthesis of those of
the first two cycles, and their episodes are for the greater part
repetitions of previous ones. Nevertheless, although from our point of
view they are of minor importance, they represent a distinct stage in the
evolution of the legend. In the former cycles the _Isra_, or Nocturnal
Journey, and the _Miraj_, or Ascension, were related separately; but here
the two are fused into one continuous story. One version will suffice
to illustrate the earliest type of non-Christian mediæval legend that
related, as in Dante’s poem, in one uninterrupted story the visit to
hell and purgatory and the ascension to paradise. This version may be
called the earliest, for it has been handed down to us in the voluminous
_Tafsir_, or commentary on the Koran, by the celebrated historian Tabari,
who lived in the 9th century. Briefly summarised, the legend runs as
follows:—
_Sole Version of Cycle III_
2. The introduction is identical with that in Version A of
Cycle 2. Mahomet, either in his house or the Mosque at Mecca,
is suddenly awakened by Gabriel, alone or accompanied by other
angels. He is purified and led on a Nocturnal Journey to
Jerusalem and thence to heaven. The episodes are as follows: At
the outset Mahomet meets an old woman who, decked in finery,
from the roadside endeavours to entice him to tarry with her;
but Mahomet turns a deaf ear and passes on unheeding. Gabriel
explains that this woman is an allegory of the world. Her
tinsel represents the allurements of the world, which like her
is effete, for so short is life on earth that it resembles the
brief years of old age. Immediately after this vision—or before
it in some versions—Mahomet is called upon to halt by two
voices, one from either side of his path. These are the voices
of the Jewish and Christian faiths, that would fain convert
him to their creeds. Proceeding, he encounters the Devil, who
in turn tries to lure him from his path; but, at Gabriel’s
warning, he hastens on. At last, freed from all temptations, he
arrives at a stage where he is welcomed by Abraham, Moses and
Jesus.
The visions that follow either represent allegories or depict
the tortures of hell, some of the latter resembling and others
differing from the punishments of the previous versions.
Firstly, Mahomet beholds men cutting corn sown but the day
before, and, in amazement, he sees the stubble grow as fast
as the corn is cut. These, Gabriel informs him, are symbolic
of the Moslems who devote their all to the spreading of the
faith and whom God rewards seven-hundredfold. Then follows
the torture of the crushed head, as in Version B of Cycle 1,
and thereafter, the punishment of those who failed to make
the offerings required by rite. Clothed in rags, these graze
like beasts, chewing fetid herbs. Further on, the adulterers
sit at a table bearing both wholesome meat and raw and putrid
flesh. The latter they devour in due punishment for their
lewdness, which led them to reject their wives and seek the
embraces of loose women. At this juncture the travellers’
path is barred by the trunk of a tree, and in surmounting it
their clothes get torn. This obstacle is a symbol of the bad
Moslems who lead their brothers off the path of virtue. An aged
wood-cutter, who toils to heap still higher the pile of wood he
has collected, although his strength forbids his carrying his
loads away, next comes into view, symbolising the rich miser
who hoards the wealth he cannot use. Proceeding, they witness
the torture of the hypocritical preachers, who, like the liars
in Versions A and B of Cycle 1, have their tongues and lips
torn. A huge bull, which, rushing out of a narrow shelter, is
now vainly trying to re-enter it, is figurative of the torment
undergone by the conscience of those who speak hasty words they
afterwards regret. The travellers now pass through a valley,
where Mahomet, breathing in the soft perfumed air, listens in
rapture to a song whose words he cannot catch. The valley,
Gabriel explains, represents heaven, and the voice he hears
sings to the Lord, beseeching Him to fulfil His promise to the
faithful. God hearkens to the prayer and renews His covenant to
save all Moslems. A parallel scene in antithetic setting is now
introduced. Mahomet traverses another valley, which, reeking
abominably, represents hell. Another voice is heard invoking
the Lord to punish all sinners, and from on high God answers
that He will wreak His vengeance.
Leaving the valley of hell behind, the travellers reach the
Mosque of Jerusalem, the goal of their Nocturnal Journey. The
scenes laid here are of little interest. Mahomet, surrounded
by angels, prays, and in turn he is greeted by the spirits of
Abraham, Moses, David, Solomon and Jesus. Offered glasses of
milk, water and wine, he drinks of the milk and water, and, as
in Version A of Cycle 2, Gabriel applauds his choice. The story
of the ascension is told in terms that are almost identical
with those of that version. When he reaches the seventh heaven,
however, the passage of Version B of the first cycle, depicting
Abraham, is inserted with slight variations. Abraham is seen as
a venerable old man, seated at the entrance to paradise between
two hosts of men, the one with white, the other with spotted
faces. The latter bathe in three rivers, emerging from the
third with faces as white as those of the other host which they
now join. The one host, Gabriel explains, are the believers
of unspotted soul and the other, penitent sinners. The three
rivers are symbolic of the mercy, loving-kindness and glory of
God. The final stage, as in Version A of Cycle 2, is the visit
to the Lotus-tree of the Boundary. The legend ends with the
familiar intimate colloquy between God and the Prophet.
3. As already suggested, this version is interesting, not from a
comparative point of view, but because it constitutes a fusion of the
versions of Cycles 1 and 2. As the date of the version is not later
than that of the fragmentary tales, it would seem as if the Moslem
traditionists had decided upon such fusion at an early period. This
decision, no doubt, was based on considerations of art rather than
theology, the object being more to satisfy, with one complete story,
the curiosity of the faithful than to justify the existence of so many
fragmentary and often contradictory versions of one and the same event.
That this latter object, implying the necessity of accepting as authentic
all those different versions, influenced the theologians of a later
epoch, will be seen further on. In this version there is no trace of it.
Tabari, by whom the version has been handed down to us, although himself
an eminent theologian, merely records it as the work of story-tellers
and omits all mention of the authenticity or otherwise of the different
fragments and versions.
4. Of the two main parts of the legend, the second (the ascension)
contains little that is new either in descriptive feature or episode. The
first part, on the other hand, could easily be regarded as a reading of
the _Isra_ of a different cycle from those hitherto considered. Its many
new episodes are precisely the visions that do not deal with realities,
but are symbols of abstract ideas, of vices and virtues. A new element,
moral allegory—so marked a feature of Dante’s poem—is thus introduced.
Vossler[69] has pointed out how successfully Dante combines the two
imperfect forms of mediæval visionary style—the religious or apocalyptic,
and the profane or allegorical; and he lauds Dante’s originality, for,
as he truly remarks, his allegories are not derived from Capella,
Prudentius, or Alan of Lille.[70] The free use of allegory in this
version of the Nocturnal Journey is, therefore, of interest. No doubt
few of the visions can be regarded as models of the scenes in the Divine
Comedy; but their mere occurrence in such number in a Moslem legend that
in other respects has been shown to have had so great an influence on
Dante, is significant. It may reasonably be supposed that the origin of
other allegories of the great poem which, in Vossler’s opinion, cannot
have been derived from its Christian or classical precursors, can be
traced back to Moslem literature.
5. A systematic investigation in this direction will be made later on.
Let it here suffice to cite one typical instance of the adaptation to the
Divine Comedy of Moslem symbols. The resemblance between the vision of
the old woman appearing at the outset of Mahomet’s journey as a symbol of
the temptation of the world, and the vision seen by Dante when he reaches
the fifth circle of purgatory, is obvious. The old woman, whom Mahomet
sees, concealing under splendid adornments the ravages that time has made
upon her charms, endeavours to draw him from the path by flattery and
alluring gestures. Not until later does Gabriel interpret the vision.
The old seductress is a symbol of the world, decked in finery to entice
the Prophet. Had she succeeded, the Moslem people had likewise preferred
worldly well-being to eternal bliss.
Dante, having traversed the fourth circle of purgatory,[71] dreams of a
woman who stammers and squints, is lame, one-armed, and jaundiced. Yet
so skilfully does she hide her defects that it is with difficulty that
Dante resists her fascination. Virgil exposes the hideousness beneath
her clothes, but not until later does he interpret the vision. The woman
is the eternal sorceress, as old as mankind, who ruins men with her
allurements, although it is given to all to free themselves, even as
Dante had done.
The general outlines of the two episodes are clearly identical; although
in the detail Dante introduces classical allusions,[72] which are
lacking in the Moslem picture. And indeed all commentators of the Divine
Comedy agree that this vision is symbolic of the false felicity of the
world,[73] just as Gabriel interpreted it to Mahomet as being an allegory
of the fleeting pleasures of earth.[74] The coincidence is significant.
6. Lastly, the resemblance of one of the descriptive features of the
garden of Abraham in this version to Dante’s purgatory is remarkable.
Before entering the celestial mansions, Dante has to be purified thrice
in three different streams: firstly, when he leaves hell and Virgil, on
the advice of Cato, washes away the spots that disfigure his face after
his visit to the infernal regions, restoring the natural colour to his
tear-stained cheeks[75]; and a second and a third time before he leaves
purgatory, when Matilda and Statius in turn immerse Dante in the Lethe
and Eunoe, the waters of which efface from the mind the memory of sin and
renew the supernatural power of the soul for good, thus preparing it for
the bliss of heaven.[76]
The idea of this threefold purification would seem to be taken direct
from the scene where the souls of penitent sinners are washed in the
three rivers of the garden of Abraham. The effects, here also, are both
physical and moral: the natural colour is restored to their faces, and
their souls, cleansed from sin by repentance, are by the grace of God
made fit to enter into the glory of heaven.
V
THEOLOGICAL COMMENTARIES ON THE LEGEND
1. To trace step by step the evolution of this legend would be a task
beyond the scope of this work, even if it were possible with our
restricted knowledge of the bibliography of this branch of Moslem
literature. In any case, the resultant gain, so far as our argument is
concerned, would be but slight. Religious literature is essentially
conservative, and the literature of Islam, pre-eminently so. In
the comparatively brief period of two centuries the legend of the
ascension had assumed a multiplicity of forms, and each version was
authenticated, even by relations of the Prophet himself. Such testimony
went unquestioned by the masses; and thus it came about that the legend
ultimately became crystallised in one definite form, into which the
main versions regarded as authentic were fused. This fusion was the
work of theologians and interpreters of the Scriptures in an endeavour,
chiefly, to harmonise a number of apparently contradictory tales. The
earliest version of the legend in its new form was the one of Cycle 3,
and this version remained final. All that appeared later were either
_commentaries_ upon it or _allegorico-mystical adaptations_ and _literary
imitations_ of it. Certainly, an abundant literature, such as was induced
in Europe a few centuries later by Dante’s poem, grew around the legend.
A brief review of the three aforementioned categories will reveal how,
following upon its definite crystallisation, theologians and men of
letters elaborated the story of the ascension.
Commentaries by theologians preponderated over all the other forms.
The many exegetical works on the Koran all deal with the completion
and interpretation of the first verse of the seventeenth chapter, in
which the ascension is alluded to. The various traditional versions of
the legend are discussed on the evidence of the most authoritative
theologians. The collections of authentic _hadiths_ also devote pages
to the legend in its different forms. To the same category belongs a
profusion of historical works on Islam and biographies of Mahomet and
the prophets. Each book has its chapter on the ascension, which, it must
be remembered, is regarded by all true Moslems as an historical fact
and not unnaturally forms an integral part of the story of the life of
Mahomet.[77]
But the most interesting of these commentaries are the treatises written
by theologians who collated their data from the above-mentioned works.
One such treatise appeared as early as the tenth century. This, the
work of Abu Laith of Samarcand, dealt in particular with the Prophet’s
colloquy with God.[78] Not until the twelfth century, however, did this
form of literature reach its culminating point; at all events, no works
of an earlier date have come down to us in such profusion.[79]
The authors of almost all these treatises are mainly concerned with the
co-ordination of the various versions of the _Isra_ and the _Miraj_;
and they solve the problem either by uniting all the forms into one or
by assuming that several ascensions were made. Other questions, such
as the date of the ascension, the spot whence Mahomet set out, and so
forth, also, however, occupy their attention. Indeed they went farther
and introduced among a host of other points, the mystical meaning of
the purification of the Prophet’s heart; the composition and sequence
of the mansions above the astronomical heavens; and the visibility of
God. However, so far as our comparison is concerned, this literature
reveals one curious coincidence alone: the Divine Comedy of Islam—like
that of Dante at a later date—had a host of enthusiastic admirers, who
studied it in all its phases. The meaning of every word was investigated
and an explanation for the most insignificant details sought with a
scrupulousness arising more from religious than literary motives.
2. This coincidence is only natural, however, and in itself does not
constitute a proof. What is of more moment is that these exegetical
treatises supplement the traditional text of the legend. For in the fused
version there appear many new scenes and episodes, which, as regards
their authenticity and age, can only be attributed to those versions
of the three cycles already examined or to others contemporaneous with
them.[80] Of these new episodes only those that distinctly resemble
scenes in Dante need be considered here.[81]
3. At the outset of his Nocturnal Journey—before his visit to the
infernal regions—an afrite, armed with a fire-brand, bars Mahomet’s way.
Attacked and pursued by the demon, the Prophet is comforted by Gabriel,
who teaches him a prayer, by repeating which he is enabled to extinguish
the demon’s torch.[82]
As Dante and Virgil reach the fifth pit of the eighth circle of hell, a
similar scene unfolds itself.[83] The two poets are pursued by a horde of
demons armed with javelins and led by a fierce and swarthy devil. Virgil
calms Dante’s fears and utters a brief command, whereupon the devil’s
fury subsides and his weapon falls at his feet.
4. But few new episodes are introduced into the ascension proper. The
first and main one is the scene of the ladder stretching from the Temple
of Jerusalem to heaven. Its rungs are of gold, silver, and emerald. By it
the souls of the blessed rise, and on either side angels stand in line.
By means of this ladder Mahomet, with Gabriel, reaches heaven in less
time than it takes to tell.[84]
The similar scene in the Twenty-first and Twenty-second Cantos of the
Paradiso is familiar to all. In the heaven of Saturn the poet sees a
golden ladder that leads to the last of the celestial spheres. The
spirits of the blessed descend by its rungs. Beatrice calling upon him to
ascend, he finds himself at the top in less time than it would take to
withdraw the hand from fire.[85]
5. The prophets inhabiting the heavens visited by Mahomet seldom appear
alone, as in the previous versions; but each is surrounded by a group
of the blessed, their disciples on earth. Thus, in the fifth heaven,
Aaron tells Biblical stories to a group of Jewish unbelievers; others,
like Enoch, Moses, and Abraham, discuss theology with Mahomet.[86] The
Prophet also meets other Biblical and Moslem characters. In the fourth
heaven he sees Mary, the mother of Moses, with the Virgin Mary[87]; and
in the seventh heaven, two hosts of Moslems, the one clad in white and
the other in grey.[88] With the light of the Divine Throne shining upon
him, a man unknown to him is seen by Mahomet. This man, Gabriel explains,
is a symbol of the glory that awaits the contemplative souls.[89] Between
heaven and earth he beholds the prophet Ezekiel begirt by a circle of
light and prostrate in prayer.[90] Bilal, too, he sees, the first Moslem
to hold the sacred office of Muezzin and call the faithful to prayer.[91]
Again, one of his dearest companions, Abu Bakr, appears to him in
fantastic form to act as his guide, when Gabriel leaves him in the final
stages of the ascension.[92] Lastly, a heavenly maiden, the destined
bride of his disciple Zayd, the son of Haritha, reveals her identity and
that of her intended spouse.[93]
Thus, by their wealth of incident and profusion of secondary characters,
these versions offer a plan of the Moslem legend that, unlike the plans
of previous versions, is not so far removed from that of the Divine
Comedy. Dante also imagined the celestial spheres to be peopled by the
blessed, who were allotted to the various heavens according to their
virtues or the profession they followed. The persons in each group
discourse among themselves or with Dante on religion or philosophy. For
the greater part they are Christians, but Hebrews and even Pagans are
also introduced. Further, both sexes are represented. Some are famous
characters of olden times, but the majority are either friends or
relations of the poet, who, with the memory of them on earth still fresh
in his mind, depicts their moral traits in masterly, yet measured, terms.
It is, of course, not claimed that the Moslem legend, at this, the final
stage of its evolution, can compare in its poetical technique with the
Divine Comedy. But in the general scheme of action, as well as in the
roles of the protagonist and other characters, the resemblance between
the two can hardly be said to be either remote or accidental.[94]
VI
ADAPTATIONS FROM THE LEGEND, MAINLY MYSTICAL ALLEGORIES
1. The religious authorities of Islam having at last determined upon
a version that was to be regarded as authentic and as the accepted
revelation, the legend may be said to have crystallised into a definite
form. The imagination of the faithful could now no longer indulge in
further inventions or additions. Nevertheless, the loss of new episode
thus incurred was amply compensated for by another and more fertile mode
of elaboration; in its final form the legend underwent considerable
literary alteration.
The glosses originally added in explanation of obscure words and ellipses
become merged in the text. The simplicity of the primitive versions is
lost in figurative language and other literary adornments. The ascension
is the theme of legends in versified prose and even poems, works in which
the rich fancy of the East is given full play. The lesser characters, as
well as the two protagonists, and even God Himself, engage in lengthy
discourses, interspersed with rhyme and replete with metaphors and
abstruse conceits. At times inanimate objects, such as the Divine Throne,
are represented as living beings; heavenly animals, like the serpent that
encircles the Throne and the beast that carries Mahomet, are personified
and made to hold long speeches. Again, the abodes of the beyond are
described with a wealth of detail taken from the Koran and the _hadiths_
of the Prophet dealing with heaven and hell.[95]
2. This first attempt at elaboration merely expanded the text of the
legend. Followed a host of adaptations, allegorical or mystical, in which
the ascension—supposed to be an historical fact—is applied to other
physical and spiritual beings, that are either real or symbolical and
earthly or heavenly. These ascend to the regions of bliss in practically
the same stages as Mahomet did in his _Miraj_. Brief mention can be made
of only a few of these tales.
3. The most popular is that of the ascension of the soul at death.
On leaving the body, it is led by its guardian angel up through the
astronomical heavens to be judged before the Throne of God. The following
is a short summary of the ascension:—
At the entrance to each heaven the scene depicted in the
_Miraj_ is repeated. The guardian angel is refused entry
until the identity of the travellers is disclosed. The soul
is then either welcomed or abused according to its conduct
during life. In each sphere it undergoes an examination on
one of the precepts of Islam, in the following order: Faith,
prayer, almsgiving, fasting, pilgrimage, honour of parents,
love of fellow-men, religious zeal and purity of heart. From
the Lotus-tree of the Boundary the soul ascends through seas of
light, darkness, fire and water and finally of snow and ice—all
as in Version C of Cycle 2. When the veils that shroud the
Divine Throne are drawn aside the catechism of the soul by God
Himself begins.[96]
4. In other similar legends,[97] the guardian angels are portrayed as
presenting to God each day the good deeds of the believers entrusted to
their care.
In each of the seven heavens the angel at the gate denies
admission to the good deed whenever its author is found guilty
of any sin. Only those good deeds that have been inspired by
Divine love may rise through the seven spheres to the presence
of God, Who declares them accepted in His sight.
5. In these early adaptations, the ascension is accredited solely to
personified metaphysical conceptions or to the souls of the departed.
In each case, moreover, Mahomet himself is made to tell the story, in
order to lend greater authority to it. The deep religious respect felt
for the Prophet forbade any encroachment. Nevertheless, the Sufis or
mystics were not long in arrogating to themselves the role of protagonist
that had hitherto been reserved for Mahomet.[98] The pretext for their
audacity was provided by the interpretation of the _Miraj_, that Mahomet
had been raised by God to heaven in order that he might experience the
supreme delight of the Beatific Vision and his heart be freed from all
earthly ties.[99] It was natural, therefore, for the Sufis to generalise
this interpretation and apply it to the real or symbolical ascension of
the soul, which breaks its worldly bonds and flies towards God, as the
essence of spiritual perfection. Indeed, one of the most famous masters
of early Moslem mysticism, Abu Yazid al-Bistami, who lived in the ninth
century, is credited with an actual ascension to the Divine Throne
through the same stages as were traversed by Mahomet in his _Miraj_.[100]
Thus the legend gradually reaches the climax of its evolution. The Sufi,
as a type of humanity capable of perfection by gradual purification
from passion, rises to such heights of contemplation that he enjoys a
foretaste of eternal bliss in the Beatific Vision.[101]
6. The more interesting of these later adaptations are the work of the
Murcian Muhyi ad-Din ibn Arabi, the prince of Hispano-Moslem mystics,
who died twenty-five years before the Florentine poet was born.[102] One
of these works is based upon the _Miraj_, in which he seeks to discover
a hidden moral. He treats it as an esoteric teaching of the revelations
manifested to the soul of the mystic in the course of its ascension to
God. This work, which unfortunately has not yet been edited, is entitled
“The Book of the Nocturnal Journey towards the Majesty of the Most
Magnanimous.”[103] The poetical fragment, of which a rendering is given
hereunder, will suffice to indicate its general outline.
The Sufis or mystics are the heirs of the Prophet whose life
and doctrine they follow. By devoting all their days to
meditation and the practice of the mysteries of the Koran
and maintaining the memories of their Beloved, they are at
last led into the presence of God. Boraq, the beast of heaven
that conveys them swiftly on their journey, is the symbol of
divine love. The holy city of Jerusalem, the emblem of light
and truth, forms the first stage of the journey. Here, as did
the Prophet, they tarry close to the wall, representing purity
of heart, that bars access to the profane. Having partaken of
milk, the symbol of the true direction of revealed doctrine,
they knock at the gate of heaven, allegorical of bodily
mortification. Beyond the gate they see paradise and hell. With
the right eye they witness the happiness of the blessed; with
the left, they weep over the terrors of the infernal fires.
They reach the Lotus-tree, the symbol of faith and virtue, and
eat their fill of the fruit, whereby the most sublime powers of
man become perfected. Thus prepared, they arrive at the final
stage of their journey. The veils enshrouding the spirit are
drawn aside and the hidden secret of the mystery of mysteries
is made manifest to them.[104]
The significance of this subtle poem in its interpretation of Dante’s
allegories is apparent. Upon the author’s own showing,[105] three
esoteric meanings are conveyed by both the Divine Comedy and the
“Convivio”—the first a personal, and the second a moral, allegory;
whilst the third is anagogical. Seen in this light, the Divine Comedy is
a complex allegory of Dante’s own life and the redemption of mankind.
Dante, representing mankind, has been led from the straight path; but,
guided by reason, faith and grace, he shakes off the fetters of evil;
and the expiation of, and purification from, his sins are symbolised by
his journey to hell and purgatory. Having attained moral perfection, he
ascends by the path of contemplation to the eternal bliss of the Divine
Essence. Thus Dante, like the Moslem Sufis in general and the Murcian Ibn
Arabi in particular, availed himself of the alleged historical fact of
the ascension of a man to the heavens, in order to represent in symbol
the mystical drama of the regeneration of souls by faith and theological
virtues.[106]
This further surprising coincidence of the allegorical intentions of
the two legends must, therefore, be added to the many other analogies
existing between them. As the symbolical character of the Divine Comedy
is, in the eyes of all critics, the most forcible proof of its original
inspiration, a closer enquiry into these wonderful coincidences will not
be amiss. The affinity between another mystical allegory of the Murcian
Ibn Arabi and Dante’s poem is obvious.
7. The Ascension in question appears in a voluminous work entitled
_Al-Futuhat al-makkiya_, or the _Revelations of Mecca_. It is the main
theme of an entire chapter, the heading of which, “The Alchemy of
Felicity,” in itself implies an esoteric allegory.[107] The narrative is
prefaced with a synopsis, of which the following is an abstract.
The aim of the soul, from the day on which the Creator unites
it with the body, is to acquire the knowledge of the essence
of its principle, God. In their search for the path leading to
this end, the souls meet with a messenger sent by God to lead
them towards that knowledge of the Creator wherein lies their
happiness. Some gratefully accept the heavenly messenger’s
guidance[108]; others disdain it on the plea that his powers of
cognition can in no way be superior to theirs. The former then
follow the direction of the doctrine as revealed by God to His
messenger; whilst the latter are merely guided by the light of
their own reason.
Here the mystical allegory begins, the protagonists being two
travellers, one of each category. Thus, a theologian and a
rationalist philosopher set out simultaneously on the path
that is to lead them towards God. The first stages of the
journey represent the perfection and happiness enjoyed by the
soul through restraint of the passions. In these stages the
teachings of philosophy and theology practically coincide,
so that both travellers succeed in shaking off the fetters
that bind them to earth and free themselves from the baneful
influence of passion.
At this point begins the actual Ascension to heaven, the plan
of which is modelled upon the _Miraj_. The first seven stages
correspond to the astronomical heavens—the Moon, Mercury,
Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. Each is visited
in succession by the two travellers, who ascend at the same
speed, the philosopher mounted on Boraq, the celestial beast
that carried the Prophet and the allegorical figure of reason,
and the theologian, by means of the Rafraf or shining wreath,
representing the light of Divine Grace, which also conveyed
Mahomet to the Divine Throne. But, although both reach the
gates of the heavens at the same time, their receptions
are different. The theologian is welcomed by the prophets
inhabiting each sphere, but the philosopher is obliged to stand
apart until he is received by the “Intelligences,” who in the
neo-Platonic cosmology move the celestial spheres and to whom
in this allegory the humble role of servants to the prophets
is assigned. The theologian is filled with rejoicing, but his
different treatment causes sadness and pain to the philosopher,
who from afar witnesses the warm welcome given to his companion
and only gleans vague information about the sublime mysteries
revealed to the other by the prophets. Not that the philosopher
is altogether neglected. The “Intelligence” of each sphere
instructs him on problems of physics or cosmology, the
solutions of which are dependent upon the natural influence
exercised by the planet in question on the phenomena of this
lower world. He finds, however, that the prophets explain the
significance of these problems to the theologian from a loftier
point of view and much more clearly than is done by natural
science alone.
By this means the author Ibn Arabi ingeniously introduces many
points from his own theological system, and the work becomes a
veritable encyclopædia of philosophy, theology, and the occult
sciences, set forth in the form of debates or speeches made by
the prophets.
Thus in the heaven of the Moon, Adam instructs the theologian
on the creative influence of Divine names. These are the
prototypes of all creatures and are equivalent to the prime
causes of philosophy. The phenomena of the sublunar world; the
changes in the material elements; the growth of all living
things; the generation of the human body—all are shown to the
philosopher by the “Intelligence” to be effects of the direct
action of this first astronomical sphere. But the theologian
learns their primary and transcendental cause, which lies
hidden in the mystic influence of the Divine names.
In the second heaven, whilst the philosopher is received by the
Intelligence of Mercury, the theologian meets the two prophets
Jesus and John, who discuss with him the subject of miracles,
more particularly those performed by the cabbalistic virtue
of certain words, the creative mystery of the word “Fiat,”
and of the Divine breath that brings beings into existence.
Then Jesus, the Spirit of God, reveals to his disciple the
esoteric working of the miracles he performed in Israel. All
these phenomena of healing, restoration of life, and so forth
are derived from this sphere. When effected _praeter ordinem
naturae_, they are miracles due to the supernatural alchemic
powers of Jesus; when produced naturally, they are the effect
of the virtue possessed by the Intelligence of Mercury. The
latter is all that the philosopher learns.
A similar difference between the results obtained by the two
travellers holds throughout; and it will suffice to summarise
the knowledge acquired in each sphere.
In Venus, the prophet Joseph interprets the mystery of the
order, beauty, and harmony of the Cosmos, and expounds the art
of poetry and the interpretation of dreams.
In the sphere of the Sun, the prophet Enoch explains the
astronomical cause of day and night and its many mystical
applications.
The prophet Aaron, in Mars, talks at length on the government
of nations, and commends to the theologian’s attention the
Revealed Code as a supreme criterion of the Divine policy,
based rather on mercy than on wrath.
In the heaven of Jupiter, Moses expounds the pantheism of Ibn
Arabi. Starting with the interpretation of the miracle when he
transformed the rod into a serpent, he ends with the thesis
that all form in the universe is mutable; but the substance is
ever the same, namely God in different relations, which are
dependent upon the subjective impression produced in the mind
of the contemplator.
Lastly, in Saturn, Abraham, reclining upon the wall of the
House of Habitation, explains to the theologian the problem of
the life hereafter. Meanwhile, the dejected philosopher awaits
him in the dark dwelling of the Intelligence. When, repentant
of his conduct, he would be converted to Islam and share in the
supernatural illumination of the faith, Abraham, the father of
the faithful, rejects him and leads the theologian by the hand
into the House of Habitation.
Here begins the second part of the ascension. The theologian
leaves the temple and ascends again on high; while his
companion waits below.
The stages of this second part of the ascension are, with the
exception of two astronomical spheres, all scenes of mysticism
and theology. The theologian first ascends to the Lotus-tree
of the Boundary, the fruit of which are emblems of the good
deeds done by the faithful. At its foot run four mystic rivers,
representing the Pentateuch, the Book of Psalms, the Gospel and
the Koran. The last is the greatest and is the source of the
others.
Thence the traveller rises to the sphere of the Fixed Stars,
where corruption is unknown and myriads of angelic spirits
dwell in a thousand mansions. Each one he visits and tastes the
supreme delights of God’s elect.
In the last sphere—the Zodiac—are revealed to him all the
marvels of the celestial paradise, which are derived from the
virtue of this sphere. Immediately thereafter he arrives at the
stool on which rest the feet of the Almighty—the symbols of His
mercy and justice—by whose favour he is instructed in the dread
problem of the eternity of reward and punishment in the life
hereafter.
The ineffable light radiating from the Throne and the sweet
harmony of the spheres thrill him to the innermost recesses
of his heart. In an ecstasy, he suddenly realises that he has
been raised to the Divine Throne, the symbol of God’s infinite
mercy. The Throne appears to him held on high by five angels
and the three prophets, Adam, Abraham, and Mahomet; and from
them he learns of the mystery of the Cosmos, which is inscribed
within the sphericity of the body of the universe, which is the
Throne of God.
The remaining stages all belong to the spiritual world, or
world of Platonic ideas. The traveller is finally wafted into
the vapour which is the primitive epiphany or manifestation
of God _ad extra_ and the type of the _prime matter_ common
to Creator and creature in the pseudo-Empedoclean theosophy
of Ibn Arabi.[109] Enraptured, the traveller beholds the
ineffable mysteries of the divine essence and its attributes,
both the absolute and those relative to the creatures. The
sublime vision ending with this apotheosis, the theologian
rejoins the philosopher, who becomes converted to the Moslem
faith so that he too may participate in the glories of mystical
contemplation.[110]
8. The points of contact between this allegorico-mystical journey and
Dante’s ascension stand forth plainly. A perusal of the passages in
Dante’s _Monarchia_ and _Epistola a Can Grande della Scala_, in which he
outlines the esoteric meaning of his Divine Comedy, will clearly show
how his interpretation agrees with that of Ibn Arabi’s allegory. Both
thinkers imagine the journey as a symbol of the life of the soul in this
world, into which it has been placed by the Creator to prepare for the
attainment of its final aim, which is to enjoy the bliss of the Beatific
Vision. Both writers hold this to be unattainable without supernatural
intervention or theology; for, although philosophic reasoning, alone,
can guide man in the first stages of his mystical journey, that is to
say, in the practice of the virtues, only the light of grace can raise
him to paradise, the symbol of the highest virtues. The main difference
between the two allegories lies in the fact that, whereas in Ibn Arabi’s
work there are two protagonists, in Dante’s story there is one, who
is led successively by two guides, Virgil and Beatrice, representing
philosophy and theology. A further difference is that Virgil does not
accompany Dante to the astronomical heavens, to which the philosopher
of the Moslem allegory ascends. This is due to the fact that in Ibn
Arabi’s cosmological system the spheres of the stars, as belonging to the
material world, come within the scope of philosophical speculation. On
this point Ibn Arabi certainly was more logical than the Florentine poet,
who is less interested in Beatrice as a symbol than in her glorification
as a real person. The effect of this difference, however, is practically
annulled by the fact that when he sets out on his ascension with
Beatrice, Dante may be said to be acting in a dual capacity; firstly,
as a philosopher, by the experience gained from Virgil’s teaching; and
secondly, as a theologian, now taught by Beatrice. Thus in some of the
spheres, Dante is seen reasoning as a philosopher independent of the aid
of Beatrice or the blessed, who, on the other hand, enlighten him on
supernatural or mystical problems. And this is precisely what happens in
Ibn Arabi’s story. The philosopher learns in each sphere of the natural
phenomena produced in the sublunar world by its physical virtues; whilst
the theologian from the prophets receives the same instruction as the
philosopher on matters pertaining to nature, supplemented by illumination
of mystical and theological subjects.
A few features of resemblance in episode may help to complete the
parallel.
9. In Dante’s hell the souls of the damned are seen in the dwellings in
which they are destined to remain for all eternity. In paradise, however,
the blessed descend from their abode, the Empyrean, and appear to Dante
in the various astronomical spheres, welcoming him or making him sensible
to the various degrees of bliss. They are, however, supposed to return to
the Empyrean, for, in the heaven of the Fixed Stars Dante again sees them
assembled in one large body.[111]
This same artifice was used by Ibn Arabi in his allegorical adaptation
of the _Miraj_. The prophets in the various spheres descend to bid him
welcome, but in the heaven of the Fixed Stars he beholds all the spirits
of the blessed together, and at the Divine Throne he sees Adam and
Abraham, whom he had previously seen, the one in the first, and the other
in the seventh heaven.
The criterion, in accordance with which the souls as first seen by Dante
are distributed, is twofold—astrological and moral. The blessed either
appear in the heaven of the star that influenced their lives or in a
higher or lower sphere according to the merit of their life.[112] The
same principle is discernible in the allegory of Ibn Arabi. The prophets
do not appear in chronological order; for, whilst Adam is in the first
heaven, Abraham is in the seventh, Moses and Aaron are in different
heavens; and Jesus is in the sphere next to Adam. The guiding principle
is thus either greater dignity or moral excellence. Moreover, the
celestial spheres unlike the preceding versions where they are numbered,
bear the name of their star. Thus a relationship, similar to that between
each heaven and the souls in the Paradiso, is here established between
the spheres and the prophets appearing in them. It is true that the
meaning underlying this relationship is nowhere actually expressed. But
it is significant that Joseph, celebrated for beauty and chastity, should
be assigned to the sphere of Venus; Moses, as law-giver to Israel and
victor over Pharaoh, to the sphere of Jupiter, the vanquisher of the
Titans; and Jesus, the Living Word of God, to Mercury, the messenger of
the gods and himself the god of eloquence.[113]
Lastly, the desire that obsesses Dante to display his learning often at
the expense even of artistic effect has a striking parallel in the Moslem
tale. Dante made of the Divine Comedy a veritable scientific treatise by
attributing to Beatrice and others, for the instruction of the pilgrim,
lengthy dissertations on philosophy, theology and the like. Ibn Arabi
resorts to a similar device to present his theosophical problems, when he
causes these to be discussed in lengthy and complicated discourses by the
prophets.[114]
Thus the two works agree in subject-matter, action and allegorical
purpose; in their principal and secondary persons; in the architecture
of the astronomical heavens; and in the didactic trend of ideas and the
use of literary devices to produce in abstract a national cyclopædia. To
these features of resemblance must be added the similarity in style; both
works are so abstruse and involved at times as to suggest to the reader
the mysteriousness of an oracle. In the face of all these reasons it is
not too much to say that Ibn Arabi’s work is of all Moslem types the
most akin to the Paradiso in particular and the whole Divine Comedy in
general, in so far at least as the latter may be regarded as a moral and
didactic allegory.
VII
LITERARY IMITATIONS OF THE LEGEND
1. To adapt the scenes of the ascension of Mahomet to a story of which
the protagonist, though a saint, is a man of flesh and blood, was
permissible perhaps to the Sufis, who claimed to be able to attain
spiritually to the dignity of prophets and whose aim, in writing such
adaptations, was always a religious one. Presumption, however, would
appear to border on irreverence when the ascension is attributed to a
mere sinner; when the aim is frankly profane; and the style affected is
one of literary frivolity or irreligious irony.
Evidently there are but few such works. One alone has been handed down
to us, and its author, as a writer of audacious satire on Islam, stands
unique.
2. This is the blind poet, Abu-l-Ala al-Maarri, famous to the present
day in Islam, and even in Europe. A Syrian of the tenth and eleventh
centuries of our era, he has been named “the philosopher of poets and
the poet of philosophers.”[115] The _Risalat al-ghufran_, or Treatise
on Pardon, is one of his less-known works.[116] Written in the form of
a literary epistle, it is really a skilful imitation of those simpler
versions of the Nocturnal Journey in which Mahomet does not rise to the
astronomical heavens.
The author appears to have had a dual aim in view. With a touch of irony
so delicate as to be almost imperceptible, he censures the severity of
the moralists as contrasted with God’s infinite mercy, and protests
against the damnation of many men of letters, especially poets, who,
though atheists and sinners, were famous both in ancient and Islamic
Arabic literature. The epistle is a reply to a literary friend, Ibn
al-Qarih, of Aleppo, who, while professing great admiration for
Abu-l-Ala, had inveighed against those poets and men of letters who lived
in impiety or debauchery.[117] Without alluding directly to the problem
of the extent of Divine mercy, he seeks to show with literary skill
that many of the libertine and even pagan poets, who finally repented,
were pardoned and received into paradise. The theological thesis,
however, is of secondary interest. The main object of the epistle is the
interpretation and criticism of the works of the writers in question.
This double purpose he achieves by ingeniously harmonising apologetics
and literary criticism in the narration of a journey, like that of
Mahomet, to the realms beyond the grave.
3. (_a_) In the prologue he tells how God has miraculously
raised Ibn al-Qarih to the celestial regions, in reward for his
writings in defence of the faith.
(_b_) There he first comes to a garden shaded by trees, of
great girth and height, and laden with fruit, beneath which
repentant sinners are seen reclining. Rivers of water, milk,
wine and honey flow through this garden of delight and pour
balm upon the hearts of the poets dwelling therein. Freed
from the envy that embittered their lives on earth, the men
of letters here live in unwonted peace and harmony. Groups
of poets, novelists, grammarians, critics, and philosophers
are engaged in friendly conversation. Drawing near, Ibn
al-Qarih hears Abu Ubayda tell tales of ancient chivalry and
the grammarian, Al-Asmai, recite classical poetry.[118] He
joins in the conversation and expresses sorrow that some of
the pre-Islamic poets, being pagans, should have been denied
admission. Then, mounted on a celestial camel, and chanting apt
verses of old-time poetry, he rides on through the garden. To a
voice suddenly heard asking by whom these verses were composed,
he replies that it was the satirist, Maymun al-Asha, whereupon
the poet himself appears on the scene. He tells the traveller
how, despite his fondness for the flowing bowl, he had been
saved by the Prophet, whose Divine mission he had foretold.
Thereafter Ibn al-Qarih meets many of the ancient poets who,
though infidels, were saved by Divine mercy. With each he
converses at length, discussing their works.
(_c_) The episodes of this miraculous journey are so numerous
that it would be impossible either to refer to them all or
transcribe the series of animated discussions on learned
subjects so ingeniously introduced into the work. The traveller
meets the most distinguished writers, generally in select
groups which gather and disperse, as in passing he recognises
and talks to them, and then proceeds on his way. In the course
of conversation an absent poet is often alluded to and, upon
the traveller’s expressing a desire to converse with him, the
poet’s abode is pointed out or a guide provided to lead the
traveller thither.
(_d_) These wanderings through paradise, though enlivened by
episodes and digressions that enhance the literary value of the
work, are individually of little interest for the purpose of
comparison with Dante.[119]
(_e_) The traveller now attends a celestial feast, followed by
music and dancing, in which all the Chosen join. Eventually he
finds himself in the company of two houris, whose charms he
warmly praises. But his amorous advances meet with derision
from the two beauties, who mockingly ask him whether he does
not recognise them. Upon his replying that surely they are two
heavenly houris, they laughingly explain that they are women
well-known to him on earth—one, Hamduna, the ugliest creature
in Aleppo, who was repudiated by her husband, a ragpicker, for
her foul breath; the other, Tawfiq the negress, who handed
out the books at the Baghdad library. An angel who happens to
pass by explains to the bewildered traveller that there are two
kinds of houris—those created in heaven, and women raised to
paradise in reward for their virtues or repentance.
(_f_) The delights experienced in paradise awaken a desire to
visit hell, in order that the contrast may render him still
more sensible of the bounty of the Lord. Forthwith he sets out
on the second part of his marvellous journey.
(_g_) He first sees strange cities lying scattered in valleys
and but dimly lit by the light from paradise. This region, he
is told, is the garden of the genii who believed in the Divine
mission of Mahomet. At the mouth of a cave sits Khaytaur, their
patriarch. The pilgrim hails him, and together they discuss the
poems attributed to the Jann and the language spoken by them.
Khaytaur satisfies his curiosity and recites to him the epic
poetry of his race.
(_h_) Taking leave of the old genie, the traveller has barely
set out again when his path is barred by a lion of ferocious
aspect. At the sight he pauses, when lo! the beast is moved
by the spirit of God to explain that he is the lion whom the
Almighty tamed in order that he might protect Utba, the son
of Abu Lahab and a relative of the Prophet’s, on a journey to
Egypt. In reward for the service, he has been received into
paradise.
(_i_) This danger past, the pilgrim proceeds, until of a sudden
a wolf rushes out fiercely to meet him. His fears are soon
calmed, however, when he hears the wolf tell how it helped to
spread the Faith by converting an Arab infidel.[120]
(_j_) Pursuing his way to the borders of paradise and hell, he
meets two other pre-Islamic poets: Al-Hutaiya, who has been
saved from hell in recognition of the sincerity of his satires;
and the poetess Al-Khansa, who recites her funereal elegies at
the foot of a lofty volcano, from whose crater pennons of flame
shoot forth. This is the entrance to hell.
(_k_) Thither Ibn al-Qarih fearlessly ascends and from the top
discerns Iblis, the king of the infernal regions, struggling in
vain as he lies bound in iron fetters and held down by fiends
armed with long forks. Heaping curses on helpless Iblis, the
traveller accuses him of having consigned countless souls to
torture. To an enquiry from Iblis he replies that he is a man
of letters from Aleppo. “A sorry trade, forsooth,” retorts
Iblis, “by which a man can barely earn his daily bread, let
alone support a family—and very risky for the soul,” he adds,
“for how many like you has it not ruined? You may count
yourself lucky to have escaped.” He then begs to be told of the
pleasures of paradise.
(_l_) In the course of conversation Baxxar ibn Burd, the blind
but ribald poet happens to be mentioned; and straightway he
rises from the infernal depths, his eyes opened by the fiends,
to add to his torture. Ibn al-Qarih, after lamenting the poet’s
fate, seizes the opportunity to consult him on some obscure
passages in his poems; but the other is in no humour for
talking and makes no reply.
(_m_) The traveller now desires to speak with Imru-l-Qays the
vagabond king, held by Mahomet to be the father of the ancient
poets. Iblis points him out close at hand, and again a lengthy
discourse begins on obscure points in the poet’s _qasidas_. In
the midst of their talk, the traveller catches sight of Antara,
the epic poet who sang of Arabian chivalry. Wrapt in flame, the
bard nevertheless replies to all the other’s questions about
his works. Ibn al-Qarih bewails the sad lot of so excellent a
poet, who to his mind had been worthy of a better fate.
(_n_) Other great pre-Islamic poets appear in succession.
He sees Al-Qama and Tarafa and enquires about their life on
earth and praises their works. But Tarafa rejects all praise,
declaring he would rather have been a simple boor and so have
entered paradise. A similar lament is heard from Aws ibn Hajar,
the poet of the chase and war; who, maddened by thirst, turns
a deaf ear to all enquiries. Proceeding, the traveller sees
another of the damned, whose features are unknown to him;
this, he finds, is the minor poet Abu Kabir al-Hudali, whom he
questions but also in vain; for the poet suffers such exquisite
torture that he can only utter cries of pain.
(_o_) Writhing in flames and roaring like a wild beast lies
another sufferer, whom he also fails to recognise. The demons
tell him it is Al-Akhtal, the Christian poet at the court
of the Ommeyad Caliphs, whose pungent epigrams on Islam
and anacreontic verses have brought this judgment on him.
Over him the visitor gloats, taunting him with the life of
low debauchery he led with Caliph Yazid, the second of the
Ommeyads. The poet heaves a sigh of pain as he recalls the
orgies at the Royal Palace of Damascus, whose walls resounded
with his ribald satires upon Islam, echoed in sacrilegious
appreciation by the Caliph, the supreme head of the Faith.
Carried away by his memories, Al-Akhtal begins to recite one of
those very satires; but this provokes even Iblis, who rebukes
his fiends for letting their charges indulge in such impiety.
(_p_) The traveller is on his way back to paradise, when it
occurs to him that he has forgotten other no less famous poets
in hell. Retracing his steps, he calls aloud for the poet
Muhalhil, whom the demons after some delay point out. In the
lower storeys of hell, too, he sees the Al-Muraqish poets
Ash-Shanfara and Tabatasharran, but, though he plies them with
questions about their lives and loves and verses, they barely
deign to answer him, pleading that they have lost their memory.
Realising the futility of further attempts, the traveller
desists and returns to the celestial garden.
(_q_) On the way other incidents, which are related in the
epilogue to the story, occur. Meeting Adam, he questions him on
some Arabic verses attributed to him. Adam affably points out
that, although he spoke Arabic in paradise, when driven out he
adopted Syriac and only recovered the use of the former when he
ascended to heaven, a repentant sinner; whereas the verses in
question, to judge by their meaning, must have been composed on
earth. After touching upon other literary subjects, the pilgrim
leaves Adam and, passing through a garden in which wonderful
serpents address him by word of mouth, finally reaches paradise.
(_r_) At the gate he is met by the houri appointed to attend
him. In reply to her gentle chiding for tarrying so long below,
he pleads the great desire he felt to talk with the poets in
hell. Now that his wish has been gratified, he can give himself
up entirely to the joys of paradise. Side by side they wander
through fields and gardens gay with flowers, the while his fair
companion recites sweet verses composed by Imru-l-Qays for the
day when he should meet his beloved in paradise.