Dante is one of those authors who concentrate all their greatness in one stupendous work. The _Vita Nuova_ has many beauties, the _Convito_ deserves to be read, the Latin Treatises offer numerous points of interest, but it is only in the _Divina Commedia_ that he rises to the height of his sublimity. He was singularly judicious, both in the choice of his subject and in the form of his verse. The Terza Rima carries the reader onwards in its progress, calmly, nobly, irresistibly. Had the work been written in prose, it would not have commanded the attention of future ages, so great is the embalming power of verse. A fine prose work may be neglected in the course of ages; a fine poetical work, never. Had the work been written in Latin verse, as indeed it was begun, it would only be a study for the curious and not a possession for all humanity. The vivid power of Dante's imagination, the intense and rugged strength of his thoughts, and the graphic realism with which he presents the scenes of Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven to his readers, are above praise and can find no parallel in the works of other poets. Milton surpasses him in sustained grandeur, but in picturesqueness the English poet does not attempt to rival the Florentine. Dante's Poem is so well known that it is needless to insist upon particular beauties. All cultivated readers are familiar with them, if not in the original, at least in translations. If any fault is to be found in the poem, it is that it somewhat falls off; the _Purgatorio_ is not quite so fine as the _Inferno_; the _Paradiso,_ not quite so fine as the _Purgatorio._ The poet sometimes has an unfortunate tendency only to hint at the histories of the spirits he meets, so that we are indebted to his commentators rather than to himself for stories worthy to be chronicled in immortal verse. His style is not always free from coarseness on the one hand, and from obscurity on the other. But in so noble an achievement it would be mean to dwell on occasional blemishes, instead of being grateful to the poet who has presented us with a work, perhaps in many respects, the noblest production of the human mind. As a specimen of Dante's Poem, I quote the last canto of the _Inferno,_ in Cary's translation. The reader will notice the curious passage that seems to prove that Dante was aware, four hundred years before Newton, of the law of gravitation: CANTO XXXIV. "The banners of Hell's Monarch do come forth Towards us; therefore look," so spake my guide, "If thou discern him." As when breathes a cloud Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night Fall on our hemisphere, seems view'd from far A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round, Such was the fabric then methought I saw. To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew Behind my guide: no covert else was there.