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.