I.
Introduction
1. Whenever it is required to prove—in so far as historical matters admit of proof—a case of literary imitation, an answer must first be found to three pertinent questions.[586] Firstly, do there exist between the alleged copy and its model so many and so striking features of resemblance as to render it morally impossible to attribute them to mere chance or to derivation from a common source? Secondly, can that which is assumed to be the model be shown to have existed prior to the copy or imitation? Thirdly, could the author of the supposed copy have known of the original; or, alternatively, is it evident that the two writers were separated by so wide a gulf as to make all communication impossible?
The first and second questions, which really furnish the key to the problem, have been sufficiently determined above. The third is of less interest. For, even if the historical data about the connection between the model and the copy were vague, this would not detract from the force of the argument based upon their likeness, especially when the points of resemblance are so clearly defined and so recurrent that the likeness cannot be ascribed to chance.
2. This is the case with the present problem. For it might be possible to attribute to mere coincidence, or to a common Christian origin, the general features of resemblance between Dante’s and the Islamic solution of the theological problem of the after-life, that is to say, the ideas or doctrines common to both eschatological conceptions. But, when these doctrines appear clothed in the same artistic form, when the ideas are represented by the same symbols and described with similar details, then the hypothesis of chance coincidence can no longer be maintained.
The difference is obvious. The ideas or doctrines are limited in number. Being the outcome of a trend of thought followed by mankind throughout the ages, they all necessarily fall within a few main categories. Not so the images. These, which are but the reflexion of the actual forms of material objects, are as numerous and varied as the objects themselves. It is morally impossible, therefore, that two conceptions of one and the same idea actually agreeing in detail should be formed in two minds, unless there existed a connecting link between the two. Such a miracle would be all the more unlikely, as the coincidence would be one, not of the conceptions of two particular minds, but of the artistic fancy of an individual, and the imaginings of a collective body such as Islam. In other words, it would be necessary to admit the possibility of Dante’s having, by his sole mental effort, conceived in a few years the same fantastic picture of life beyond the grave as took the Moslem traditionists, mystics and poets centuries of artistic endeavour to elaborate. The claim to so marvellous an originality would require to be substantiated by evidence showing how this miracle came to be accomplished by Dante Alighieri. The burden of proof would thus be on the Dantists, and it would be for them to explain the enigma of the coincidences between Dante’s poem and the Islamic legends, were it not that there did indeed exist a link between the two and evidence of that contact that is indispensable to all imitation.
3. This evidence may be furnished under three headings. It may be shown, firstly, that the Christian peoples of mediæval Europe, by their contact with Moslems, acquired a knowledge of their beliefs and conceptions of the after-life; secondly, that Dante may well have drawn, directly or indirectly, upon Moslem sources for the material of his poem; and, lastly, that there are indications of his having been influenced by those sources.