, or charmed it by its imagery. Religion no longer basked in
the sunshine of imagination. The awful words of judgment to come had
been spoken; and, like Felix, mankind had trembled. Ridiculous legends
had ceased to be associated with the shades below--their place had
been taken by images of horror. Conscience had resumed its place in
the direction of thought. Superstition had lent its awful power to the
sanctions of religion. Terror of future punishment had subdued the
fiercest passions--internal agony tamed the proudest spirits. It was
the picture of a future world--of a world of retribution--conceived
under such impressions, that Dante proposed to give; it is that which
he has given with such terrible fidelity.

Melancholy was the prevailing characteristic of the great Italian's
mind. It was so profound that it penetrated all his thoughts; so
intense that it pervaded all his conceptions. Occasionally bright and
beautiful ideas flitted across his imagination; visions of bliss,
experienced for a moment, and then lost for ever, as if to render more
profound the darkness by which they are surrounded. They are given
with exquisite beauty; but they shine amidst the gloom like sunbeams
struggling through the clouds. He inherited from the dark ages the
austerity of the cloister; but he inherited with it the deep feelings
and sublime conceptions which its seclusion had generated. His mind
was a world within itself. He drew all his conceptions from that
inexhaustible source; but he drew them forth so clear and lucid, that
they emerged, embodied as it were, in living images. His characters
are emblematic of the various passions and views for which different
degrees of punishment were reserved in the world to come; but his
conception of them was so distinct, his description so vivid, that
they stand forth to our gaze in all the agony of their sufferings,
like real flesh and blood. We see them--we feel them--we hear their
cries--our very flesh creeps at the perception of their sufferings. We
stand on the edge of the lake of boiling pitch--we feel the weight of
the leaden mantles--we see the snow-like flakes of burning sand--we
hear the cries of those who had lost the last earthly consolations,
the hope of death:--

"Quivi sospiri, pianti ed alti guai
Risonavan per l' aer senza stelle,
Perch' io al cominciar ne lacrimai.
Diverse lingue, orribili favelle,
Parole di dolore, accenti d' ira,
Voci alte e fioche, e su