rchitecture, as we stand entranced in the sublime cathedrals of York
or Rouen, awakens in our breasts a genuine response to the mighty
aspirations which thus became incarnate in enduring stone. And the
poem of Dante--which has been well likened to a great cathedral--we
reverently accept, with all its quaint carvings and hieroglyphic
symbols, as the authentic utterance of feelings which still exist,
though they no longer choose the same form of expression.

[57] Carlyle, Heroes and Hero-Worship, p. 84.

[58] See my Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy, Vol. I. p. 123.

A century ago, therefore, a translation of Dante such as Mr.
Longfellow's would have been impossible. The criticism of that time
was in no mood for realistic reproductions of the antique. It either
superciliously neglected the antique, or else dressed it up to suit
its own notions of propriety. It was not like a seven-league boot which
could fit everybody, but it was like a Procrustes-bed which everybody
must be made to fit. Its great exponent was not a Sainte-Beuve, but a
Boileau. Its typical sample of a reproduction of the antique was Pope's
translation of the Iliad. That book, we presume, everybody has read;
and many of those who have read it know that, though an excellent and
spirited poem, it is no more Homer than the age of Queen Anne was the
age of Peisistratos. Of the translations of Dante made during this
period, the chief was unquestionably Mr. Cary's. [59] For a man born and
brought up in the most unpoetical of centuries, Mr. Cary certainly made
a very good poem, though not so good as Pope's. But it fell far short
of being a reproduction of Dante. The eighteenth-century note rings out
loudly on every page of it. Like much other poetry of the time, it
is laboured and artificial. Its sentences are often involved and
occasionally obscure. Take, for instance, Canto IV. 25-36 of the
"Paradiso":

[59] This work comes at the end of the eighteenth-century period,
as Pope's translation of Homer comes at the beginning.

"These are the questions which they will
Urge equally; and therefore I the first
Of that will treat which hath the more of gall.
Of seraphim he who is most enskied,
Moses, and Samuel, and either John,
Choose which thou wilt, nor even Mary's self,
Have not in any other heaven their seats,
Than have those spirits which so late thou saw'st;
Nor more or fewer years exist; but all