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th all the force of our own homely Saxon terms； but its compounds also； preserving their physical significations almost unimpaired； call up in our minds concrete images of the greatest definiteness and liveliness。 It is thus that German seems to us pre…eminently a poetical language； and it is thus that we are naturally inclined to overrate rather than to depreciate the poetry that is written in it。
With regard to French； the case is just the reverse。 The Frenchman has no Saxon words； but he has； on the other hand； an indigenous stock of Latin words； which he learns in early childhood； which give outlet to his most intimate feelings； and which retain to some extent their primitive concrete picturesqueness。 They are to him just as good as our Saxon words are to us。 Though cold and merely intellectual to us； they are to him warm with emotion； and this is one reason why we cannot do justice to his poetry； or appreciate it as he appreciates it。 To make this perfectly clear； let us take two or three lines from Shakespeare：
〃Blow； blow； thou winter wind！ Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude； Thy tooth is not so keen；〃 etc。； etc。；
which I have somewhere seen thus rendered into French：
〃Souffle； souffle； vent d'hiver！ Tu n'es pas si cruel Que l'ingratitude de l'homme。 Ta dent n'est pas si penetrante；〃 etc。； etc。
Why are we inclined to laugh as we read this？ Because it excites in us an undercurrent of consciousness which； if put into words； might run something like this：
〃Insufflate； insufflate； wind hibernal！ Thou art not so cruel As human ingratitude。 Thy dentition is not so penetrating；〃 etc。； etc。
No such effect would be produced upon a Frenchman。 The translation would strike him as excellent； which it really is。 The last line in particular would seem poetical to us； did we not happen to have in our language words closely akin to dent and penetrante； and familiarly employed in senses that are not poetical。
Applying these considerations to Mr。 Longfellow's choice of words in his translation of Dante； we see at once the unsoundness of the principle that Italian words should be rendered by their Romanic equivalents in English。 Words that are etymologically identical with those in the original are often； for that very reason； the worst words that could be used。 They are harsh and foreign to the English ear； however homelike and musical they may be to the ear of an Italian。 Their connotations are unlike in the two languages； and the translation which is made literally exact by using them is at the same time made actually inaccurate； or at least inadequate。 Dole and dolent are doubtless the exact counterparts of dolore and dolente； so far as mere etymology can go。 But when we consider the effect that is to be produced upon the mind of the reader； wretchedness and despairing are fat better equivalents。 The former may compel our intellectual assent； but the latter awaken our emotional sympathy。
Doubtless by long familiarity with the Romanic languages； the scholar becomes to a great degree emancipated from the conditions imposed upon him by the peculiar composition of his native English。 The concrete significance of the Romanic words becomes apparent to him； and they acquire energy and vitality。 The expression dolent may thus satisfy the student familiar with Italian； because it calls up in his mind； through the medium of its equivalent dolente； the same associations which the latter calls up in the mind of the Italian himself。＇41＇ But this power of appreciating thoroughly the beauties of a foreign tongue is in the last degree an acquired taste；as much so as the taste for olives and kirschenwasser to the carnal palate。 It is only by long and profound study that we can thus temporarily vest ourselves； so to speak； with a French or Italian consciousness in exchange for our English one。 The literary epicure may keenly relish such epithets as dolent； but the common English reader； who loves plain fare； can hardly fail to be startled by it。 To him it savours of the grotesque； and if there is any one thing especially to be avoided in the interpretation of Dante； it is grotesqueness。
＇41＇ A consummate Italian scholar； the delicacy of whose taste is questioned by no one； and whose knowledge of Dante's diction is probably not inferior to Mr。 Longfellow's； has told me that he regards the expression as a noble and effective one； full of dignity and solemnity。
Those who have read over Dante without reading into him； and those who have derived their impressions of his poem from M。 Dore's memorable illustrations； will here probably demur。 What！ Dante not grotesque！ That tunnel…shaped structure of the infernal pit； Minos passing sentence on the damned by coiling his tail； Charon beating the lagging shades with his oar； Antaios picking up the poets with his fingers and lowering them in the hollow of his hand into the Ninth Circle； Satan crunching in his monstrous jaws the arch…traitors； Judas； Brutus and Cassius； Ugolino appeasing his famine upon the tough nape of Ruggieri； Bertrand de Born looking （if I may be allowed the expression） at his own dissevered head； the robbers exchanging form with serpents； the whole demoniac troop of Malebolge；are not all these things grotesque beyond everything else in poetry？ To us； nurtured in this scientific nineteenth century； they doubtless seem so； and by Leigh Hunt； who had the eighteenth…century way of appreciating other ages than his own； they were uniformly treated as such。 To us they are at first sight grotesque； because they are no longer real to us。 We have ceased to believe in such things； and they no longer awaken any feeling akin to terror。 But in the thirteenth century； in the minds of Dante and his readers； they were living； terrible realities。 That Dante believed literally in all this unearthly world； and described it with such wonderful minuteness because he believed in it； admits of little doubt。 As he walked the streets of Verona the people whispered； 〃See； there is the man who has been in hell！〃 Truly； he had been in hell； and described it as he had seen it； with the keen eyes of imagination and faith。 With all its weird unearthliness； there is hardly another book in the whole range of human literature which is marked with such unswerving veracity as the 〃Divine Comedy。〃 Nothing is there set down arbitrarily； out of wanton caprice or for the sake of poetic effect； but because to Dante's imagination it had so imposingly shown itself that he could not but describe it as he saw it。 In reading his cantos we forget the poet； and have before us only the veracious traveller in strange realms； from whom the shrewdest cross…examination can elicit but one consistent account。 To his mind； and to the mediaeval mind generally； this outer kingdom； with its wards of Despair； Expiation； and Beatitude； was as real as the Holy Roman Empire itself。 Its extraordinary phenomena were not to be looked on with critical eyes and called grotesque； but were to be seen with eyes of faith； and to be worshipped； loved； or shuddered at。 Rightly viewed； therefore； the poem of Dante is not grotesque； but unspeakably awful and sol