Chapter 42 Section IX

Green took a deep breath and began to tell about Dante's descent into the last lap of hell: a frozen lake, the Cosido Ice Lake, as smooth as a single piece of glass, and the ice was as thick as Charles in the middle of winter. There never was a river.Dante heard an angry voice yelling at him from the frozen lake. "Walk on your walk!" cried the voice, "be careful not to tread the soles of your feet on the heads of poor weary brethren!" "Oh, from where did this accusation stung good Dante's eardrums? The poet looked down and saw a mass of distressed souls embedded in the frozen lake, with their heads sticking out— almost Thousands and hundreds of faces, all frozen blue and black; they are the most despicable sinners that Adam's descendants call. For what sins is this frozen lake of hell prepared? Traitors, of course! The cruelty of their hearts deserves to suffer What law of retribution? Whole body in the ice, up to the neck—so that their eyes may always see the agonizing punishment of their sins."

Holmes and Lowell were utterly stunned, their hearts racing in their throats.Green, full of energy, with bright eyes, related how Dante seized the scolding sinner by the head, cruelly wound his tangled hair in his hands, pulled out a tuft, and made him speak his name. Greene foretells that the next sermon will be about the cruel and violent Satan.As soon as the sermon was over, the energy that had spurred the old pastor to persevere through the sermon quickly died away, leaving only a faint blush on his cheeks. Lowell brushed aside the noisy crowd of soldiers in the aisle, and pushed his way to the front of the chapel against the crowd.Holmes followed closely behind.

"Ah, dear friends!" cried Green, delighted at the sight of them.They ushered Green through the crowd into a small room at the back of the chapel, and Holmes bolted the door.Green sat down on a plank by the fire and held up his hands. "Dare I say, fellas," he remarked, "this weather is nasty, I'm coughing again, I shouldn't be complaining, if we—" Lowell yelled, "Tell us everything at once, Green!" "Why, Mr. Lowell, I don't understand you at all," said Green meekly, and looked at Holmes. "Dear Green, Lowell means..." But Dr. Holmes lost his composure. "What are you doing here, Green?"

Green looked aggrieved, "Oh, you know, dear Holmes, as long as I'm invited and I'm physically fit, I'll be a guest preacher at a number of churches around the city and in East Greenwich .” Lowell interrupted him: "We know about your guest sermons. But you've come all the way out to preach Dante!" "Aha, well! Preaching to these morose soldiers was a challenging business, very different from anything I'd ever known. In the first weeks after the war, especially after Lincoln's assassination By talking to these people during the day, I found that quite a few of them were tormented, and worried anxiously about their own fate, and what would happen to them after death. One midsummer afternoon, I inserted in my sermon Dante I found it to be quite effective. I have since begun to begin my sermons with a general account of Dante's mentality and journey. It is often the case—forgive me."

"Longfellow didn't know anything about it?" asked Holmes. "I was going to tell everyone about my little experiment, but..." Green's face turned pale, and he stared at the fiery furnace, "I think, dear friends, let me call myself the next best A professor of Dante studies like Longfellow, a little embarrassed." "The sermon just now, Green," put in Lowell, "was entirely about Dante's encounter with the traitor." "Yes, yes!" said Green, renewed at the thought of this sermon. "Isn't it wonderful, Lowell? When the Dante Club began discussing the Inferno, I Just did it, preaching one of the psalms we are going to translate at the next club meeting. Dare I say, I now feel more than ready to take on the translation of this tumultuous psalm, because Long Fer Luo plans to start translating this one tomorrow! I usually preach on Thursday afternoon, and I will take the train back to Rhode Island after the sermon.”

"Every Thursday?" Holmes asked. "A couple of times it wasn't, and I was in a hospital bed. The weeks that Longfellow canceled our Dante seminar, well, I wasn't in the mood to talk about Dante," Green said, "and then Just last week, what a marvelous week! Longfellow has been translating quickly and eagerly, and I've been staying in Boston, not going anywhere, and I've been giving a sermon on Dante nearly every night all week!" Lowell took a step forward suddenly, "Mr. Green! Think carefully about the minutes and seconds of your sermon here! Is there any soldier who pays special attention to the content of your sermon about Dante?"

Green stood up with difficulty, looked around blankly, and seemed to have suddenly forgotten the purpose of their asking this question. "Let me think about it. It is said that there are about twenty or thirty soldiers who come to listen to the sermon every time. The people who come to listen to the sermon are different every time. I can't remember people's faces very clearly." "Green, if you don't immediately..." Lowell's voice became hoarse. "Lowell, don't!" said Holmes at once, now assuming Fields' usual role of stopping his friend.

Lowell let out a long breath and beckoned Holmes to step forward. Holmes began: "Dear Mr. Green, you could do us a favor—a great favor, I know. Now, think back to every soldier you've probably spoken to since you started doing this." "I don't remember, I don't remember, I'm so sorry." "You have no idea how much this means to us," Lovell begged him.