ses. Look back to Dante's account of Ulysses' death,
and we find it was not the love of money, but pride of knowledge, that
betrayed him; whence we get the clue to Dante's complete meaning: that
the souls whose love of wealth is pardonable have been first deceived
into pursuit of it by a dream of its higher uses, or by ambition. His
Siren is therefore the Philotime of Spenser, daughter of Mammon--

"Whom all that folk with such contention
Do flock about, my deare, my daughter is--
Honour and dignitie from her alone
Derived are."

By comparing Spenser's entire account of this Philotime with Dante's of
the Wealth-Siren, we shall get at the full meaning of both poets; but
that of Homer lies hidden much more deeply. For his Sirens are
indefinite; and they are desires of any evil thing; power of wealth is
not specially indicated by him, until, escaping the 'harmonious danger
of imagination, Ulysses has to choose between two practical ways of
life, indicated by the two _rocks_ of Scylla and Charybdis. The monsters
that haunt them are quite distinct from the rocks themselves, which,
having many other subordinate significations, are in the main Labour and
Idleness, or getting and spending; each with its attendant monster, or
betraying demon. The rock of gaining has its summit in the clouds,
invisible, and not to be climbed; that of spending is low, but marked by
the cursed fig-tree, which has leaves, but no fruit. We know the type
elsewhere; and there is a curious lateral allusion to it by Dante when
Jacopo di Sant' Andrea, who had ruined himself by profusion and
committed suicide, scatters the leaves of the bush of Lotto degli Agli,
endeavouring to hide himself among them. We shall hereafter examine the
type completely; here I will only give an approximate rendering of
Homer's words, which have been obscured more by translation than even by
tradition.

94. "They are overhanging rocks. The great waves of blue water break
round them; and the blessed Gods call them the Wanderers.

"By one of them no winged thing can pass--not even the wild doves that
bring ambrosia to their father Jove--but the smooth rock seizes its
sacrifice of them." (Not even ambrosia to be had without Labour. The
word is peculiar--as a part of anything is offered for Sacrifice;
especially used of heave-offering.) "It reaches the wide heaven with its
top, and a dark blue cloud rests on it, and never passes; neither does
the clear sky hold