3

which the sailor like the landsman will soar, when in his own words, he has gone aloft!'

How it might add to the beauty of the river, which poets have sung of, and which deserves all that is said of him :

--

'As when from parent fountain first discharged,
The silver Thames pursues his new-born course,
His narrow pebbly bed, with rushes marged,
Scarce feels the influence of his humid source;
He, as he onward rolls, acquires new force,
His ample current proud through meads to guide,
And 'twixt his banks to keep a wide divorce;
While Britain's sons to his expanse confide
Britannia's bulwarks, and her merchants' pride.'

These remarks met the eye of a lady, who has communicated her wish to build such a Chapel to the memory of her father, a distinguished Admiral, now deceased. She says that the words have given expression to a wish she has long felt, and that she is most thankful for the opportunity of carrying out her desire. Such a favour, conferred in such a spirit, will doubtless stimulate many others to copy her example. She gives it on condition that those who are interested in the Mission will raise money to buy the freehold of the Mission House and wharf, and to fit the House for the various works of love carried on there, (for the architect remarked when he saw the present building that more work is being done there than it can hold.)

She wishes to withhold her name, but she has named RearAdmiral Inglefield, C.B., to act with the Committee on her behalf, and he has generously presented the Communion Plate, as an earnest of his good will in the matter.

She is ready with the £1,000 at once, but the Committee are only ready, at present, with £200 of their share, which will probably amount to about £1,500.

A visit has been paid to the spot by G. E. Street, Esq., A.R. A., who has expressed his opinion that a satisfactory building can be erected, and the Chapel can be placed on the river side, exactly in accordance with the day-dream above quoted. Plans will shortly be furnished, and a statement, with photograph, sent to each subscriber. Meanwhile, Mr. Street's name will be a guarantee for the beauty and solidity of the work, which the promoters humbly trust will be, by the blessing of God, an enduring monument of the

love of the many hundred supporters of this Mission towards the Sailor, and the Fisherman, and the Waterman-a sort of hymn of intercession and praise, sung to sweet music by hundreds of voices, and petrified into stone.

But before this consummation can be reached, a huge amount of hard dry work has to be done to raise £1,500, which simply cannot be done in a poor town like Gravesend unless friends from a distance help them. Their Secretary will act with Admiral Inglefield as a Building Committee, and they earnestly trust that those who wish them well through it, will help them at once by promises of assistance, and, if possible, by sending money at once. Address,

REAR-ADMIRAL INGLEFIELD, C.B.

10, GROVE END ROAD,

LONDON, N.W.

REV. C. E. R. ROBINSON, M. A.

THE CASTLE,

GRAVESEND, KENT.

Many who cannot afford to give a guinea at once, can give 7s. a year for three years, and many who cannot give half-a-guinea, can give 3s. 6d. a year for three years.

THE

MONTHLY PACKET

OF

EVENING READINGS

For Members of the English Church.

JUNE, 1870.

THE DIVINA COMMEDIA OF DANTE.

In the twenty-fourth Canto Dante and Virgil begin their laborious ascent out of the hypocrites' prison, climbing from rock to rock till they reach first the level of the ruined bridge, and then the summit of the ridge that divides the sixth from the seventh gulf. The mountain of line 21 is that mentioned in the first Canto, up which Dante was endeavouring to climb when the onset of the three beasts compelled him to ask Virgil's help. In line 55 reference is made to the ascent of the mountain of Purgatory, where Virgil tells Dante he would find still more grievous difficulties than the present, which must nevertheless be surmounted if he would attain to the gate of Paradise. For the interpretation of lines 65-69 the reader is left to his own ingenuity. Then the poets cross the bridge and descend the slope that bounds on its inner side the seventh gulf, tenanted by thieves and robbers. Nowhere does Dante's conception of the terrible appear more vivid than in this and the following Canto, in which he has given free rein to his imagination, and produced a series of transformations second to none in poetic power. The catalogue of serpents is taken from the Pharsalia of Lucan, who introduces into his ninth book a long description of the monsters that attacked Cato's army on its way across the desert. The 'heliotrope' of line 92 was a green stone covered with red spots-perhaps the same as our blood-stone-supposed to have the property of rendering its possessor invisible at pleasure.

Our readers will understand that Vanni Fucci being to Dante's knowledge a cruel and passionate man, would on that account have been condemned to the seventh circle only; and therefore it is that in line 128 Dante asks of what further sin he had been guilty. The sacrilege which thrust him down to the eighth circle was committed by him at the Church of Saint James at Pistoia, in company with two others, one of whom informed against his accomplices when an innocent man was on the point of suffering. Thereupon Vanni Fucci and Vanni di Mirone were hanged and dragged at the horse's tail in the year 1295.

The explanation of the sinner's prophecy is given as follows. In the
VOL. 9.
PART 54.

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year 1301, the Neri of Pistoia being expelled by the Bianchi from their city, betook themselves to Florence, and making common cause with the Florentines of their own party, turned the balance of power there against the Bianchi, as predicted in line 144. The first use they made of their success was to declare war against Pistoia, allying themselves with Lucca for that purpose, and having for their commander-in-chief Moroello Malaspina, lord of Giovagallo in the Valdimagra. The first battle terminated in the total discomfiture of the Bianchi, to whom Vanni Fucci believed Dante still belonged, as is sufficiently plain from the last line of the Canto. The epithet 'Picen,' in line 148, is involved in considerable doubt, but the general meaning of the prophecy is unmistakeable.

THE INFERNO.-CANTO XXIV.

ERE that the year his youthful prime doth finish,
When Sol his locks beneath Aquarius hideth,
And now to equal day the nights diminish;
When the hoar-frost upon the earth provideth
An image of her sister white-attired,

But no long time her fragile down abideth;
The villager whose store is near expired,

Rises and looks and sees the country whiten

All round, then smites his thigh, and home retired—
Like to a wretch that knows not how to lighten

10

His load of sorrow-up and down bewaileth;
Then turns, and feels the hope within him brighten,
Observing how the earth her face unveileth

In so short time; and then with staff of pastor
Drives forth his flock to graze; in such wise quaileth
My heart at the behaviour of the Master,

When him I saw with brow so vexed appearing;
And to the sore thus quickly came the plaster.

Then just as we the ruined bridge were nearing,

He turned and did that gracious look accord me,
Which at the mountain's foot erst proved so cheering.

20

First scanning well the ruin, he toward me

Oped wide his arms, after some plan devising
Within him, and in his embrace then stored me.

And like as one who works throughout comprising
In his mind's gaze the future consequences;
So lifting me upon the crest steep-rising
Of one huge mass, another he commences

To scale, exclaiming, 'When thou first have tested
If it may bear thee, storm that rock's defences.'

30

No way was there for one with cowl invested;

Light as he was, and I helped up securely,

The toilsome slope we hardly could have breasted
From crag to crag. And save for that cause purely
That on this side less lofty lay the border,
For him I cannot speak, but I should surely

Have been full spent. But since that towards the warder
Of the most nether pit the whole lies sloping,
The site of every valley thence in order
Must rise on this side, fall on that;-so hoping
For our toil's end at last the point we gained

Where the last rock breaks from the bridge's coping.
The breath was all from out my lungs so drained,
That I sat down, no further step contriving
As soon as I the level space attained.

'Now needst thou nerve thyself for further striving,'
The Master said, 'since that on couch of feather

40

Or 'neath thick rugs to fame is no arriving,

Whereof bereft who lives, he altogether

Such record of himself on earth achieveth

50

As foam on wave, or smoke in windy weather.

Then rise; o'ercome the pain thy breath that grieveth

With the high soul that ever proves victorious
When the dull body's load behind it leaveth.
Thou must ascend a ladder more laborious;
"Tis not enough from these to have departed;
Then if thou heed me, work to meritorious
Avail.' Thereat I straight arose, and started,

Of breath more furnished than I felt appearing,
And said, 'Come, see me vigorous and stout-hearted.'
So went we o'er the rock, rugged, uncheering,
Strait, and of danger not to be computed,

60

Its crest more steeply than the former rearing. Speaking I walked, to seem in strength recruited, Whence from the other gulf a voice ascended, For utterance of words distinct unsuited.

I knew not what it said, though we had ended

Our journey on the bridge the chasm there spanning,
But anger with its tones methought was blended.

Downwards I looked; but eyes though quickly scanning,
Nought of the bottom of that darkness learned;
Then 'Sire, the further bank,' began I planning,
'I would we reached, and from the rampart turned;
For here as one that nothing understandeth,
I hear; and look, but nought can be discerned.'

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