So saying, Virgil moved on his way, and Dante closely followed.  He expressed a fear, however, as they went, lest being “neither AEneas nor St. Paul,” his journey could not be worthily undertaken, nor end in wisdom.  But Virgil, after sharply rebuking him for his faintheartedness, told him, that the spirit of her whom he loved, Beatrice, had come down from heaven on purpose to commend her lover to his care; upon which the drooping courage of the pilgrim was raised to an undaunted confidence; as flowers that have been closed and bowed down by frosty nights, rise all up on their stems in the morning sun.[5]

 “Non vuol che ’n sua citta per me si vegna.”

The Pagans could not be rebels to a law they never heard of, any more than Dante could be a rebel to Luther.  But this is one of the absurdities with which the impious effrontery or scarcely less impious admissions of Dante’s teachers avowedly set reason at defiance,—­retaining, meanwhile, their right of contempt for the impieties of Mahometans and Brahmins; “which is odd,” as the poet says; for being not less absurd, or, as the others argued, much more so, they had at least an equal claim on the submission of the reason; since the greater the irrationality, the higher the theological triumph.

  “Through me is the road to the dolorous city;
  Through me is the road to the everlasting sorrows;
  Through me is the road to the lost people. 
  Justice was the motive of my exalted maker;
  I was made by divine power, by consummate wisdom, and by primal love;
  Before me was no created thing, if not eternal; and eternal am I also. 
  Abandon hope, all ye who enter.”

Such were the words which Dante beheld written in dark characters over a portal.  “Master,” said he to Virgil, “I find their meaning hard.”

“A man,” answered Virgil, “must conduct himself at this door like one prepared.  Hither must he bring no mistrust.  Hither can come and live no cowardice.  We have arrived at the place I told thee of.  Here thou art to behold the dolorous people who have lost all intellectual good.” [6]

So saying, Virgil placed his hand on Dante’s, looking on him with a cheerful countenance; and the Florentine passed with him through the dreadful gate.

They entered upon a sightless gulf, in which was a black air without stars; and immediately heard a hubbub of groans; and wailings, and terrible things said in many languages, words of wretchedness, outcries of rage, voices loud and hoarse, and sounds of the smitings of hands one against another.  Dante began to weep.  The sound was as if the sand in a whirlwind were turned into noises, and filled the blind air with incessant conflict.

Yet these were not the souls of the wicked.  They were those only who had lived without praise or blame, thinking of nothing but themselves.  These miserable creatures were mixed with the angels who stood neutral in the war with Satan.  Heaven would not dull its brightness with those angels, nor would lower hell receive them, lest the bad ones should triumph in their company.