The infernal comedy

II 57 3 5

2 25-

4 32-

2 43

2 44-

4 45-

4 46

2 54-

1 58-

— t?/" should read OJ.

— it " " b>'ooks.

—despoiled should read despised.

— IViil into death I grope.

-On schetiters shame, disgrace and flight.

— On the upturned pale face.

— // 7/// should read To.

—disobed should be disobeyed, —understand should be understood . —be should read me.

—Shieking should be Shrieking, —unto should be undo, —gtruck should be struck.

—reprocJies should be reproaches, —o'er should read above, —their should be there.

— everlastihg should be everlasting, —plans should hs plains.

—you should be yet.

spend should be spent, -darkness should read starkness. ■polluion should he pollution.

-Md/ should be thai, ■yell should be hell, ■to should read its.

-Sir, the devil is a woman .'" — -liiin should go out. ■suipher should be sulphur. ■The t should have an i before it. ■most should read not. ■outspoken should read outbroken. First the should read to.

B.

c.

S.

L

P.

I

7^

I

I

I

I

I

I

I

„IIO

I

I

I

I

■87-

I

I

III "5

1:6

—his should read their, —ivoiuan should be luomen.

her mind ' s perplexed .

—love should be lore.

-The should read IVhat.

— The women of caste where, Sir'c. -virtue should read honest.

— That lulls me so soft' asleep, —quest should he'guest.

-led should be lead.

— The look that upon it Ilugon east.

— You quoted against me -ivhat you 'd

find, -in should be on.

-these should read this, —assumed should read took, -delay should be detail.

-A should be As.

-Inferno had won ! " Huzza, huzza ! -sing should be sings.

-Hiaxvath should be Hiawatha, -go should read7(i/tc on.

-filled should be filed, -s/n-ink should be shirk.

— When he in sorrow from them rowed, -into should be unto.

-the Indians should read some

strangers, -bring should read grow.

-Britaniiian should be Britannia.

THE

IMfEEMlL COMElf,

BY RICHARD GERNER.

"b

ADVANCE EDITION

NEW YORK:

r

Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1881, by

RICHARD GERNER,

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at. Washington, D. C.

I^^D

PAOK

PREFACE 5

Book I.-dark Death

rANTO I.— THE PAST 11

II.— THE DYING DUELLIST 13

III.— FAITH 14

^ IV.— THE FEAR OF DEATH 16

v.— REMORSE 17

VI.— AZRAEL 20

BOOK IL — THE INFERNAL REALMS.

Canto 1.— The Dream Of Hell 22 Ii.-the Reality Foreshadowed 25

III.— THE UNSEEN UNIVERSE 28

IV.-THE EMPY'REAL SHELL 32

v.— INFERNAL POLITICS 36

VI.— THE TORTURES OF THE DAMNED 40

BOOK ILL— THE INFERNAL HISTORY.

CANTO I.— THE CHARACTER OF THE BLESSED 46

II.-THE THIRD TP^STAMENT 49

III.— THE NEW GENESIS 52

IV.— AUTOCREATION 55

v.— THE TRUTH AT LAST 58

VI.— VIVE LE ROI! 62

BOOK IV.— THE CONQUEST OF HEAVEN.

CANTO I.— THE CALL TO ARMS 6(5

II.-LIGHT 71

III.-THE QUEEN OF HEAVEN 74

IV.— A DIVINE FIEND 79

v.— THE INFERNAL VICTORY 84

VI.-HELL-FIRE 87

BOOK v.— THE DAWN OF REASON.

CANTO I.— THE SECOND COMING 91

II.-THE HISTORY OF A FAITH 95

III.-THE SHATTERED CROSS 99

IV.-THE PORTENT OF DESTRUCTION 104

v.— THE DOCTRINE OF HELL HO

VI.— THE RETURN TO NOTHING 115

DEDICATED TO COMMON SENS f S © ^ o^

In the name of all that is sensible and reasonable, the present poetical work was designed and stands now written. Its author, in making his bow to the public, unhesitatingly announces hnnself as uncompromisingly antagonistic to all the principles espoused by and included in the religous creeds of all nations. He is an atlieist from first to last, in all the articles of his pliilosophy. He discards blind faith as unworthy of the intelligent thinker, admits no premise advanced by the disciples of any form of religion, and accepts no circumstance of time and place not scientifically demonstrated or, at least, supported by the dictates of reason and eomrnqn sense. His only religion is the religion of humanity and tlie pursuit of real knowledge. He desires to wound nobody's feeling, but, in the exercise of his conscientiousness, cannot stop to consider wliere the chips fall when he hews to the line. He cannot l)e hampered with conventionalities and modern fashions. He must be true to his intelligence at all times. In this spirit he appears before tlie reader, neither for the purpose of amusing, offending, instructing, dictating or preaching, but imbued with the earnest desire to impress the significance of his studies and beliefs upon such as shall display the patience of giving him their attention.

Belore entering upon the subject of the work at hand, the author, acting upon the belief that a reader is desirous of knowing something of the personality of a writer before beginning the perusal of bis writings, begs to be permitted to say something about himself by way of an introduction of his character to tlie reader, thinking that his motives may thereby be the better understood, and many obscure points in the following poem placed in a clearer light. He trusts that he may be acquitted of unworthy motives in so doing, such as the parade of his vanity or the desire of notoriety at any price.

* Of foreign birth, an American by education, he was at an early age given opportunities to exercise a deep-rooted desire to make his mark in the world with hispen, and now,at the age of twentyfour, after a not uneventful literary career, he comes forward with the first work of any magnitude, trembling with mingled liopes and fears. The reading of liis boyhood was extensive and rambling, not always of the best, and often inimical to his natural tendencies. This last remark refers to the period spent, or rather misspent, in the pursuit of a technical education which left vestiges of acquirement on the day of liis graduation, only to be effaced entirely by the first return to pure literature as a pastime and an ambition. Romantic and historical fiction has ever been his favorite and almost uninterrupted indulgence, filling his mind with vistas of the impossible and the unscientifically speculative. Tlie eflects of this, he is afraid, are only too apparent in the present work, but he consoles himself with the thought that they are not entirely foreign to that work's nature. He is but little acquainted with the literatures of nations, viewed from a scholar's standard of knowledge, but sufficiently so to have invested the work at hand with all required references to past writings on the subject under consideration, and insufficiently so as to have invested it with any voluntary or involuntary imitatory features. His knowledge of theology is not the result of midnight oil inquiry, but of an extended and intimate association with professing Christians, to whose teachings he lias been an attentive and wondering listener. Then, too, his own religious education in tender years has not been neglected, and he has only deserted the banner of faith after a long and earnest examination of its tenets, and the realization of its utter philosophical worthlessness. All the prominent faiths have been in turn examined and, after more or less hesitation, discarded, the fundamental Buddhist creed being the last on the list. He is now convinced that faith is not an inseparable attribute to humankind, but^ather a manner of intellectual vice, indulged in at the expense of the mental ennoblement of nations. He is prepared to say that education will, at a not very late day, obliterate the remaining existence of creeds which are gradually dwindling into insignificance and ultimate oblivion. It maybe necessary to add, in the summing up of his individual traits, that the English tongue was not that of his childhood, and that it was only acquired in boyhood after another language's fashions had left its unextinguishable marks upon his style. With tliis brief explanation of his natural propensities, the critic will be prepared to deal with their emanations, and particularly with the work now before him.

The autobiographer has made reference to a not uneventful literary career. This will seem, to say the least, surprising to the ninety-nine hundredths of the readers of this work, who have

IREFACE.

never before heard his name mentioned. In justice to himself, he must therefore beg the reader to be made acquainted with a condensed review oftlieten years preceding the presentation liereof. At tlie age of fourteen, after a number of abortive attempts to sliine in the galaxy of the world's literary liglits, which attempts are happily lost to postey ty together with the boyish, and therefore pardonable, ambition which incited thern, he became familiar with and an humble member of, an institution with which the public at large is but little acquainted: the fraternity of American amateur journalists consisting of an aggregation of boys and youths, and, it may be added, girls and young ladies, scattered throughout the States, who make it a pleasure to edit and publish a number of mostly diminutive and mostly monthly journals, either printed by themselves or, for such as can afford it, by professional printers, and contributed to by a number of amateur authors. This fraternity is styled Amateurdom : "dora" for short. Into the ranks of tiiese amateur authors the writer succeeded in working himself, by dint of the concoction of a large number of wonderful and fearful sensational creations of a youthful mind poisoned by tlie pernicious influence of contributors to the weekly juvenile press. Gradually, a reformation in the demand for topics brought the amateur autliors to their senses, and the writer fell from his estate and unenviable notoriety in the " dom" until, by repeated and persistent effort, he managed to regain his prestige by the production of a number of more serious works, including many essays and a few poems. A single success in the poetical line Anally determined him to try his fortune in that direction ; and, discarding prose for the time being, he set to work at a series of poems, some of which have been as successful as others have failed ignominiously. Later on, he dabbled in Eastern romances, publislied in the Danhury News, until, finall.v, he forsook all other literary work ia order to be able to devote himself exclusively to the composition of the appended work. His career as an amateur author came to an end, brought on by political causes in which he was unsuccessful; his connection with the " dom" thereby ceased, and all lie has to remember it by is the file of his contributions to its journals, and a handsome farewell testimonial.

The signal poetical success incidentally above mentioned was "Terrible Snow,"' probably better known to the reading public tlian its author, since it has had the run of the press and been received into collections of standard verse. Modeled on the plan of " Beautiful Snow," but opposed to it in sentiment, it made a way of its own. Its first publication marks the turn to professional literature in the author's career, as well as his decided preference for poetical writing, and since then, numerous verses, of all quality and length, have been credited to his name by way of prominent journals, especially by the New York Commercial Advertiser.

The reader is now in a measure prepared to hear what the author has to say, by way of introduction,, of the subject and subject-matter of tliese pages. Some explanation is indubitably necessary since immaturitj' of conceptive powers and nonfluency of diction have prevented tlie author from doing that justice to the topic involved which it unquestionably deserves.

The present poem is not a comedy in the modern acceptation of that word, at any rate not in its literary form. It is so designated because of the title of Dante's sublime creation. It is more a comedy than "Tlie Divine Comedy" is, since that work is, in a measure, an earnest and an honest one. The author of "The Divine Comedy" believed what he wrote, at least in his topic's fundamental aspects; the author of "The Infeinal Comedy" believes nothing of the kind. In that respect, the latter work is a comedy in the broadest sense of tlie word. Its author believes in no lieaven and no hell; his pictures of them are not intended to impress their existence upon the reader, but to point to a moral. Hence, "The Infernal Comedy" is neither a companion piece nor a reputation nor an imitation of nor a bur-: lesque on, nor a comparison with, "The Divine Comedy."

The plan on which the Comedy before the reader is based, was not hit upon like a happy thought, but is the result of long and earnest contemplation. Its origin does not lie in Dante's work, as may be supposed, for the title came long after the work was begun, and before the author ever knew what Dante's work was all about. It grew rather out of a sense of vindictiveness toward the Christian religion. Tlie original idea was to present a heaven and a hell as different from the Christian aspect of tliose localities as it was possible to conceive, and more in accordance with the well known Vjurlesques on the same by French and German humorists. Indeed, when the work was begun, the author had but a very hazy conception of what he was going to do at all, and actually, in the midst of a settled purpose, turns deliberately about, ridicules what he has written and goes off in an entirel.v new direction. The fourth canto of the second book marks this transition. There his ideas became set and from that point the poem flows premeditatedly on to the end. The flrst book Mas originally written as a separate work, and it was only near its finish that the author bethought himself to use it as the flrst part of his long contenplated infernal work. The metre, it will be seen, changes with every book, the last being like the flrst; the author's flrst consideration in his choice of metre having been simplicity, even to childishness, so as to permit him to devote all that time to his topic which so many other ambitious versifiers expend upon clumsy stanzas and fanciful rhythmic combinations.

Now that the work is finished, and the author, turns back to examine into the various emotions which animated him during its composition, and the manner in whicli those emotions have found vent, he finds it indispensable to prepare the

PREFACE, deader for what is coming by a psychological outline of liis labors without beforeliand destroying any interest in the work which it may own in a narrative sense.

Although "Tlie Infernal (.'oniedy" is (he result of much speculation, it is not a speculative work. It does not seek to add to the literature of pliilosophical inquiry It claims for its alleged scientific speculations no value whatever; tliese speculations are not intended to be farcical, but have earnest points in view. Thus. Queen Mepha's di.ssertation on the beginning of all things, whicli is the feature of the third book, is not a burlesque, but purposes to show that an intelligent thinker sliould rather build up for himself a partly or wholly fallacious conception of the mystery of creation and nature, to be partly or wholly cor- ' reeled or substituted by other conceptions, by futui'e studies, on a purely reasonable basis, than to dismiss the subject by accepting the idea of a Creator and conforming to a creed.

"The Infernal Comedy" is, in general, a picture of the hereafter from the aspect of the nineteenth century but does not admit of any kind of an hereafter. It is evolutionary in sympathy and rejects everytliing that is not in conformity with that doctrine. The purpose of the drawing of such a picture was, at heart, to throw ridicule on the existing orthodox conception of that state; more than that, to show that unknown things are not as strange as the.v are pictured by the fancy, and thateverything is natural and familiar when but brought into contact with. And everywhere tliroughout the poem, it will be noticed, the spirit is rampant to ai^use and confound orthodoxy. If that is a fault, and the work must be condemned on that account, tlie author refuses to save the work at the expense of lopping it of those traits. Indeed, he despairs of correcting its faults, since it bristles with such, look at it from whatever side you will. It is shambling, rambling, illogical, contradictory, rhetorically and grammatically incorrect, and offensive to the outward genius of a bigoted age. But the author claims for it that it is novel and unique. If his critics will echo him in that conceit, he is content; if not, it simply goes to show that he has overestimated its merits.

The work is very much in need of a charitable perusal, both in mercy to the thought involved and the execution exhibited. It was written in a hurry, at ragged intervals, in expectation of momentary disturbance. Too much space lias been given to unimportant points and unnecessary philosophizing, and too little to really essential features. Thus, the conception of the location of hell presented in the fourth cantoof the second book is poorly, insufficiently and timidly presented, and not emphasized until the fourth canto of the third book. The author therefore desires the readers to dwell on stanzas 34-38 of tlie fourth canto of the second book and fix the conception rigidly in his or her mind before going any further, until recurrence shall be had to itfurtlier on. (p. 56.) Much is didactic and monotonous which might have been enlivened with fanciful and rhetorical graces if more severe labor had been expended on it. The author can but assure the reader that the second half of the work is bet ter than the first, and beg him or her tocnduro tlie latter for the sake of tlie former.

Much delight has been manifested in the composition of the third and fourth hooks, since these gave the author full opportunity to find vent for long pent up cherisiied leelings and sentiments. He is frank enough to confess that he lias personal and private motives to be malicious toward the professors of Christianity, and, in the pasquinade upon the story of Adam and Eve as given in the fifth canto of the tliird book, and the conquest of heaven as set forth in the fourth i)Ook, he does not hesitate to say that he has been intentionally aggressive and unsparing. But for all that he asserts that he has not been more severe with Christianity than its scientific and historical merits deserve, and has conscientiously written only his sincerest beliefs.

The author expects to be charged with immorality by fanatics and incensed religionists. In reply to this he has to say, beforehand, that ''The Infernal Comedy" was not intended for the delectation of prudes and children, nor for tVie general public, and its author does not propose to set up for a reformer of puldic morals. On the contrary he has attempted to show that the paraded morality of the Anglo-Saxons is a mockery, and that they need to be shocked by a glaring effrontery in the teeth of their code of morals in order to be brought to their senses. The author fi>ndly hopes that "The Infernal (.'oniedy" will do that for tliem.

On the whole, the author has no apologies to make for his opinions, sentiments and beliefs, invites no discussions and accepts no compromise. He presents no plea, advances no new theory or doctrine besrging for examination and acceptation, does not desire any sympathy, and is prepared to regard the differently opinionated with indilTerence, and to treat such of them as propose to wax violent toward him, witii scorn. As an aspirant for literary honors, he pleads for mercy and charity; as a thinker, he asks for nothing of the kind.

Returning to the work itself, the author feels bound to say a few words about the four principal characters introduced into the narrative of the poem.

The central figure and hero of the epic is the anti-Christ of " sacred" and "profane" hi.story, by an ancient Hebraic designation known as Armillus, for further reference to whom the reader is referred to the encyclopedias. He has been here endowed with many of the author's personal traits, and been made the exponent of his opinions and sentiments. He is pictured as impressionable, dauntless and altogether human. He speaks for himself; his career constitutes the thread of the story. '

Queen Mepha is the impersonation of wonianliood as the author loves to picture a woman to

PREFACE, himself, and she Is therefore the heroine. Her name is a brief effemination of Mephisto. She is the womanly counterpart of the hero, and is endowed with all the possible graces that can be consistently combined in a human being. The character is, of course, an idealization of an existing prototype.

Queen Diva is the personification of the Anglo- Saxon woman, beautiful as an angel, graceful as a sylph, but heartless, unnatural, fanatic, bigoted and narrow-minded, her intellect, heart and soul prostituted by the influence of a fiercely Christian training. The shrewd reader will at once imagine that he sees in this character the key to the mystery of the author's hatred toward the church, and he is not altogether wrong; but the author must warn him or her that he is not a proselyte from malice, but from conviction, and that circumstances have merely aggravated his natural repugnance toward the faith into bitter resentment. The author has known, seen and studied Diva in a living woman, but has of course welded her here to suit the purposes of his work, and he does not hesitate to say that he has placed Armillusin Diva's estimation where he himself has stood in that of the original. He thinks that, in general, an Anglo-Saxon woman is either a thoughtless fool or a fanatic fiend, and he demands the indictment of the established churches as the immediate cause of such a deplorable condition of things.

Carelta is a woman occupying the same position in the story of the poem that Haidee occupies in the elder Dumas' masterpiece, -'The Count of Monte Christo," introduced for the purpose of rewarding the hero, after the manner of stage comedies, for all the trials and tribulations he has passed through ; and as the present work has once come under the head of a comedy, its author deems it necessary to let the curtain, at the end of the story proper, fall on bliss. But for fear this may appear too conventional, he ends the poem itselt in what Q,ueen Mepha says every, thing has begun— in nothing. And as "The Infernal Comedy" is a part of everything, it is perforce obligatory upon its creator that it should end in nothing.

For the character of Carelta, and some of the incidents in the fifth book, the author is indebted to Wilkie Collins' charming but hastily dashed oflT novelette, " The Captain's Last Love," from which he lias not hesitated to borrow, feeling that an imputation of plagiarism were ridiculous : as much charge Shakespeare of plagiarizing from Boccaccio, or Dryden from Aesop.

"The Infernal Comedy" contains much blasphemy, viewed from the Christian standpoint, and will call down upon its author's head the execration of the probably vast majority of its readers who have been taught to regard with feelings of veneration what the author holds up to .scorn and derision. He has been told that in any other country but this, he would be imprisoned and punished for the creation and publication of sentiments held to be so atrocious, and he has been warned that even In the land of the free and the home of the brave, he will be fortunate to escape being prosecuted as a foulmouthed blasphemer. The author is perfectly willing to take his chances, feeling that the nation which will tolerate Col. Robert G. Ingersoll, will also tolerate him. He fiatters himself that he knows the nation just well enough to believe that, if the present work will be a successful one at all, it will be so mainly on account of the heterodox opinions given such emphasized prominence therein.

A matter that has given the author much greater concern than the possibility of his being legally prosecuted, is the dedication of the present volume, for he has been so tossed from pillar to post, aflfection being the pillar and discretion the post, that he came well nigh abandoning the solution of this knotty problem in despair. But at the suggestion of a kind critic, and upon mature consideration, he has concluded to dedicate the work to common sense, including humanity in general, since every living being is, indeed, individually interested in the question of the hereafter. He hopes that nobody will be disappointed, but there were too many personal claims to be considered, to arrive at any other conclusion. May each and all of the disappointed ones, if there are any, forgive the author, which they can do all the more easily, when they consider that the dedicatee of "The Infernal Comedy" would at best be enjoying a very doubtful honor.

The author has been careful to escape conventionalities in this preface, and will not now disfigure it with such, or burden it with further explanations and apologies; he therefore refers the reader, for further information, to "The Infernal Comedy" itself. He is not a little interested to know what the verdict will be, although he does not particularly care whether It will be favorable or not; to him, with regard to the present work, vituperation will be sweet flattery.

R. G New York, October i, iS8o.

THE INFERNAL COMEDY.

— Heine.

REETING:

1 sing not for the world to like my song ;

To many ears, perchance, my strain is wrong :

I sing to please myself, and others, too.

Who'll change forthwith, to like my song, their view,

And form themselves to find a new ideal,

Q)uite other strains to hear, pulsations feel —

And if my song cannot command its world,

Then let it he into uhlivion hurled !

CANTO I.

THE PAST.

*' A LAS! I've Xi. A sinful, ve led a wicked life, nad career ; A revelrous and reckless strife It proved in all, I fear :

A life with folly in my heart,

With frolic in my brain ; So reckless did I play my pan

That I was called insane.

In dark exploits, in shameful vice,

I threw my youth away, And tired nature paid the price

Of manhood gone astray.

I knelt at idle pleasure's throne.

Enamored of her charm.

Where clouded skies were never known.

Nor sorrow nor alarm.

In principles, in sophistries

My fancy was indulged, And fed with startling ministries

That cannot be divulged.

I knew no right, and knew nu wrong :

I did what pleased me best ; I drank my wine, and sang my song

And minded no behest.

1 loved my mistress : loved her well —

A wife? I had no wife.

You see, though I was so for hell.

For that I was not rife.

I kissed the girl, and fondled her, And decked her out in gold :

So did 1 love and pet my cur — As bought, so were they sold.

My days were spent in mad excess.

My morals were debased.

My sympathies ran to distress,

My honor stood defaced.

But we must live, and not like beasts ;

Our life is short — too short ! So let us live at endless feasts,

And make the thing a sport.

What are the morals of a man ?

What is his honor, pray '!

The former wears he when he can,

When not, flings them away ;

The latter is a tender flower ;

Temptation chills its hue : 'Tis drenched in Mammon's goldenshower

And nourished but by few.

I sold them all for love and wine, And cried them down in song :

So was I free, and joy was mine : So fine's the thing that's wrong.

A noble thought was not for me,

A sentiment I feared ; My heart was full of deviltry,

My soul with sin was bleared.

But then, what is a noble thought'?

'Tis praised in poet's verse : And poet's verses are but wrought

Some publisher to curse.

A sinful soul has no hard cares ;

It lives at liberty Or dull restraint and weary prayers.

And virtue's poverty.

I loved naught but the naked vice

That stared me in the face; My intellect knew no device

That led not to disgrace:

But naked vice is better far

Than vice in virtue cloaked ; Disgrace can nothing touch nor mar ;

Its bearer is not yoked. —

I courted dnmken joy.

And joined the most abandoned throngs

While I was still a boy.

And 1 did well ! I owed no man

A duty ; I was free ; My credit to destruction ran :

But credit is a flea

That bites and bothers all the time, And gives no moment's peace.

THE INFERNAL CO MED V.

That will not with diversion chime, And want^ too hmg a lea>ic.

My sorrow proved the die : With woman I my manhcjod marred.

My virtue to defy.

But ruin means dependence ne'er.

And sorrow oft is sweet : And woman is so fine, so fair :

And vice is such a treat 1

My virtue? Ha, 1 knew it not.

And di> not know it now : 1 drowned it in the awful blot

( )f sin, in many a row :

A blot, aye, blot on worldly woe,

A blot on worldly strife ; Without it would I pine; not know

This miserable life.

My fame was born in golden wine,

In which I laved my all ; 1 would not, at the dearest shrine,