Dante had the benefit of a mythology and a theology which had undergone a more complete absorption into life than those of Lucretius. It is curious that not only Dante’s detractors, like the Petrarch of Landor’s _Pentameron_ (if we may apply so strong a word to so amiable a character), but some of his admirers, insist on the separation of Dante’s “poetry” and Dante’s “teaching.” Sometimes the philosophy is confused with the allegory. The philosophy is an ingredient, it is a part of Dante’s world just as it is a part of life; the allegory is the scaffold on which the poem is built. An American writer of a little primer of Dante, Mr. Henry Dwight Sidgwick, who desires to improve our understanding of Dante as a “spiritual leader,” says: To Dante this literal Hell was a secondary matter; so it is to us. He and we are concerned with the allegory. That allegory is simple. Hell is the absence of God.... If the reader begins with the consciousness that he is reading about sin, spiritually understood, he never loses the thread, he is never at a loss, never slips back into the literal signification. Without stopping to question Mr. Sidgwick on the difference between literal and spiritual sin, we may affirm that his remarks are misleading. Undoubtedly the allegory is to be taken seriously, and certainly the _Comedy_ is in some way a “moral education.” The question is to find a formula for the correspondence between the former and the latter, to decide whether the moral value corresponds directly to the allegory. We can easily ascertain what importance Dante assigned to allegorical method. In the _Convivio_ we are seriously informed that the principal design [of the odes] is to lead men to knowledge and virtue, as will be seen in the progress of the truth of them; and we are also given the familiar four interpretations of an ode: literal, allegorical, moral, and anagogical. And so distinguished a scholar as M. Hauvette repeats again and again the phrase “didactique d’intention.” We accept the allegory. Accepted, there are two usual ways of dealing with it. One may, with Mr. Sidgwick, dwell upon its significance for the seeker of “spiritual light,” or one may, with Landor, deplore the spiritual mechanics and find the poet only in passages where he frees himself from his divine purposes. With neither of these points of view can we concur. Mr. Sidgwick magnifies the “preacher and prophet,” and presents Dante as a superior Isaiah or Carlyle; Landor reserves the poet, reprehends the scheme, and denounces the politics. Some of Landor’s errors are more palpable than Mr. Sidgwick’s. He errs, in the first place, in judging Dante by the standards of classical epic. Whatever the _Comedy_ is, an epic it is not. M. Hauvette well says: