{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_59306/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_59306","id":"gutenberg_59306","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/59306","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Epic poetry, Greek -- History and criticism","Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English","Homer. Iliad","Odysseus, King of Ithaca (Mythological character) -- Poetry"],"text":"Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images available at The Internet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                           ANCIENT CLASSICS\n\n                                  FOR\n\n                            ENGLISH READERS\n\n                             EDITED BY THE\n\n                      REV. W. LUCAS COLLINS, M.A.\n\n                                 HOMER\n\n                        THE ILIAD--THE ODYSSEY\n\n                    BY REV. W. LUCAS COLLINS, M.A.\n\n                      WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS\n                         EDINBURGH AND LONDON\n\nThe subjects in this Series may be had separately, in cloth, price 2s.\n6d.; or two volumes bound in one, in leather back and marbled sides and\nedges, arranged as follows:--\n\n        THE ILIAD AND\n        ODYSSEY.\n\n        HERODOTUS.\n        XENOPHON.\n\n        EURIPIDES.\n        ARISTOPHANES.\n\n        PLATO.\n        LUCIAN.\n\n        \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n        SOPHOCLES.\n\n        HESIOD AND THEOGNIS.\n        ANTHOLOGY.\n\n        VIRGIL.\n        HORACE.\n\n        JUVENAL.\n        PLAUTUS AND TERENCE.\n\n        C\u00c6SAR.\n        TACITUS.\n\n        CICERO.\n        PLINY.\n\n\n\n\n                                 HOMER\n\n                               THE ILIAD\n\n                                BY THE\n\n                      REV. W. LUCAS COLLINS, M.A.\n\n                               AUTHOR OF\n                \u2018ETONIANA,\u2019 \u2018THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS,\u2019 ETC.\n\n                      WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS\n                         EDINBURGH AND LONDON\n                               MDCCCLXXI\n\n\n\n\nADVERTISEMENT.\n\n\nIt is proposed to give, in these little volumes, some such introduction\nto the great writers of Greece and Rome as may open to those who have\nnot received a classical education--or in whose case it has been\nincomplete and fragmentary--a fair acquaintance with the contents of\ntheir writings, and the leading features of their style.\n\nThe constant allusions in our own literature, and even in our daily\npress, to the works of the ancient classical authors, and the\nfamiliarity with the whole _dramatis person\u00e6_ of ancient history and\nfable which modern writers on all subjects assume on the part of their\nreaders, make such an acquaintance almost necessary for those who care\nnot only to read but to understand.\n\nEven in the case of readers who have gone through the regular classical\ncourse in their day, this acquaintance, if honest confession were made,\nwould be found very imperfect. It is said, of course, that \u201cevery\nEnglish gentleman reads Horace;\u201d but this is one of those general\nassertions which rest upon very loose ground. An ordinary observer of\nthe habits of the class might find himself somewhat at a loss for\ninstances.\n\nIn the case of ladies, and of the large body of general readers who have\nreceived either no classical education, or a very imperfect one,\nprobably less is now known of Homer, Virgil, or Horace, than in the days\nwhen Pope\u2019s, Dryden\u2019s, and Francis\u2019s translations were first published,\nand took their place for the time on every literary table.\n\nThere appears a strong probability that the study of Greek and Latin,\nwhich has so long been our exclusive idea of a \u201cliberal\u201d education, will\nhereafter be confined within a narrower circle. Yet some knowledge of\nthe ancient classics must continue to be the key to much of our best\nEnglish literature. If, as some educational reformers suggest, a\nsystematic course of English reading be substituted for Latin and Greek\nin our \u201cmiddle-class\u201d schools, such a training will necessarily involve\nthe careful study of the masters of English thought and style, and more\nespecially of those earlier authors whose taste was formed very much\nupon the old classical models, and whose writings are full of allusions\nto their characters and imagery.\n\nIt may be said that we have translations of all the best and most\npopular of the classical authors, and that many of these are admirable\nin their execution. This is quite true. The Iliad, the Odyssey, the\n\u00c6neid, Horace, and some of the Greek Dramatists, have lately found\ntranslators who, in point of taste and general accuracy, leave little to\nbe desired. But the results of their work will be best enjoyed and\nvalued by those whose acquaintance with the originals enables them to\nappreciate not only the positive beauty of the English version, but its\nrelative merit as conveying the spirit and sense of the Greek or Latin\nauthor. Even the best translation (especially of the classical poets)\nmay fail to have a continuous interest for the merely modern reader,\nunless he has some previous familiarity with the argument of the work,\nthe personages introduced, and the characteristics of the age in which\nthe scene and action lie.\n\nThe aim of the present series will be to explain, sufficiently for\ngeneral readers, who these great writers were, and what they wrote; to\ngive, wherever possible, some connected outline of the story which they\ntell, or the facts which they record, checked by the results of modern\ninvestigations; to present some of their most striking passages in\napproved English translations, and to illustrate them generally from\nmodern writers; to serve, in short, as a popular retrospect of the chief\nliterature of Greece and Rome. The attempt appeals, as will be seen, to\na circle outside that of classical scholarship; though possibly some who\nhave all legal claim to rank as scholars, but who now stand rather on\nthe \u201cretired list\u201d of that service, may in these pages meet some old\nacquaintances whom they have almost forgotten. If, in any case, they\nfind our re-introduction unsatisfactory, none would advise them more\nheartily than we do to renew the old personal intercourse for\nthemselves.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                                    PAGE\n\nINTRODUCTION,                                                          1\n\nCHAP.  I. THE QUARREL OF AGAMEMNON AND ACHILLES,                      25\n\n  \u201c   II. THE DUEL OF PARIS AND MENELAUS,                             48\n\n  \u201c  III. THE BROKEN TRUCE,                                           63\n\n  \u201c   IV. THE FIRST DAY\u2019S BATTLE,                                     69\n\n  \u201c    V. THE SECOND DAY\u2019S BATTLE,                                    88\n\n  \u201c   VI. THE EMBASSY TO ACHILLES,                                    94\n\n  \u201c  VII. THE THIRD BATTLE,                                          104\n\n  \u201c VIII. THE DEATH OF PATROCLUS,                                    113\n\n  \u201c   IX. THE RETURN OF ACHILLES,                                    121\n\n  \u201c    X. THE DEATH OF HECTOR,                                       128\n\n  \u201c   XI. CONCLUDING REMARKS,                                        139\n\nIt has been thought desirable in these pages to use the Latin names of\nthe Homeric deities, as more familiar to English ears. As, however, most\nmodern translators have followed Homer\u2019s Greek nomenclature, it may be\nconvenient here to give both.\n\n        Zeus          = Jupiter.\n        Her\u00e8          = Juno.\n        Ar\u0113s          = Mars.\n        Poseid\u014dn      = Neptune.\n        Pallas Athen\u00e8 = Minerva.\n        Aphrodit\u00e8     = Venus.\n        Hephaistos    = Vulcan.\n        Hermes        = Mercury.\n        Artemis       = Diana.\n\nThe passages marked (D.) are from Lord Derby\u2019s translation; (W.) from Mr\nWorsley\u2019s; and (P.) Pope\u2019s.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nIt is quite unnecessary here to discuss the question, on which the\nlearned are very far from being agreed, whether Homer--the \u201cPrince of\nPoets\u201d--had any real existence; whether he was really the author of the\ntwo great poems which bear his name, or whether they are the collected\nworks of various hands, dovetailed into each other by some clever editor\nof ancient times. Homer will still retain his personality for the\nuncritical reader, however a sceptical criticism may question it. The\nblind old bard, wandering from land to land, singing his lays of the old\nheroic times to a throng of admiring listeners, must always continue to\nbe the familiar notion of the author of the Iliad and the Odyssey. Such\nwas the universal creed of the world of readers until a comparatively\nrecent date; and the speculations of modern scholars, in this as in\nother cases, have been much more successful in shaking the popular\nbelief than in replacing it by any constructive theory of their own\nwhich is nearly so credible. \u201cHomer\u201d is quite as likely to have been\nreally Homer, as a mere name under whose shadow the poems of various\nunknown writers have been grouped.\n\nThere is extant a Life of the poet, said to have been composed by the\nGreek historian Herodotus, quoted as such by early writers, and\npossibly, after all, quite as trustworthy as the destructive conjectures\nof those critics who would allow him no life at all. There we are told\nthat his birth, like that of so many heroes of antiquity, was\nillegitimate; that he was the son of Critheis, who had been betrayed by\nher guardian; that he was born near Smyrna, on the banks of the river\nMeles, and was thence called \u201cMelesigenes.\u201d His mother is said\nafterwards to have married a schoolmaster named Phemius, by whom the boy\nwas adopted, and in due course succeeded to his new father\u2019s occupation.\nBut the future bard soon grew weary of such confinement. He set out to\nsee the world; visiting in turn Egypt, Italy, Spain, the islands of the\nMediterranean, and gathering material for at least one of his great\nworks, the adventures of the hero Odysseus (Ulysses), known to us as the\nOdyssey. In the course of his travels he became blind, and thence was\ncalled \u201cHomeros\u201d--\u201cthe blind man\u201d--such at least is one of the\ninterpretations of his name.[1] In that state returning to his native\ntown of Smyrna, he, like his great English successor, Milton, composed\nhis two great poems. One of the few passages in which any personal\nallusion to himself has been traced, or fancied, in Homer\u2019s verse, is a\nscene in the Odyssey, where the blind harper Demodocus is introduced as\nsinging his lays in the halls of King Alcinous:--\n\n    \u201cWhom the Muse loved, and gave him good and ill--\n     Ill, that of light she did his eyes deprive;\n     Good, that sweet minstrelsies divine at will\n     She lent him, and a voice men\u2019s ears to thrill.\u201d (W.)\n\nSo, in the same poem, the only other bard who appears is also\nblind--Phemius, who is compelled to exercise his art for the diversion\nof the dissolute suitors of Penelope. The fact of blindness is in itself\nby no means incompatible with the notion of Homer\u2019s having constructed\nand recited even two such long poems as the Iliad and the Odyssey. The\nblind have very frequently remarkable memories, together with a ready\near and passionate love for music.\n\nFor the rest of his life, Homer is said to have roamed from city to city\nas a wandering minstrel, singing his lays through the towns of Asia\nMinor, in the islands of the Archipelago, and even in the streets of\nAthens itself, and drawing crowds of eager listeners wherever he went by\nthe wondrous charm of his song. This wandering life has been assumed to\nimply that he was an outcast and poor. The uncertainty of his\nbirthplace, and the disputes to which it gave rise in after times, were\nthe subject of an epigram whose pungency passed for truth--\n\n    \u201cSeven rival towns contend for Homer dead,\n     Through which the living Homer begged his bread.\u201d\n\nBut the begging is not in the original lines at all, and a wandering\nminstrel was no dishonoured guest, wherever he appeared, in days much\nlater than Homer\u2019s. Somewhere on the coast of the Levant he died and\nwas buried, leaving behind him that name which retains its spell hardly\nweakened by the lapse of some twenty-seven centuries, and the two great\npoems which have been confessedly the main source of the epic poetry,\nthe heroic drama, and the early romance of Europe.\n\nOther works are ascribed to Homer\u2019s name besides the Iliad and the\nOdyssey, but the authorship appears more doubtful. If we trust the\nopinion of Aristotle, Homer was the father of comic narrative poetry as\nwell as of epic. The poem called \u2018Margites,\u2019 attributed to him,\ncontained the travels and adventures of a wealthy and pedantic coxcomb:\nbut slight fragments only of this have been preserved--enough to show\nthat the humour was somewhat more gross than one would expect from the\npoet of the Odyssey, though redeemed, no doubt, by satire of a higher\nkind, as in the surviving line which, in describing the hero\u2019s\naccomplishments, seems to anticipate the multifarious and somewhat\nsuperficial knowledge of the present day--\n\n    \u201cFull many things he knew--and ill he knew them all.\u201d\n\nAdmitting the personality of the poet himself, and his claim to the\nauthorship of both Iliad and Odyssey, it is not necessary to suppose\nthat either poem was framed originally as a whole, or recited as a whole\nupon every occasion. No doubt the song grew as he sung. He would\nprobably add from time to time to the original lay. The reciter, whose\naudience must depend entirely upon him for their text, has an almost\nunlimited licence of interpolation and expansion. It may be fairly\ngranted also that future minstrels, who sung the great poet\u2019s lays\nafter his death, would interweave with them here and there something of\ntheir own, more or less successful in its imitation of the original.\nSuch explanation of the repetitions and incongruities which are to be\nfound in the Iliad seems at least as reasonable as the supposition that\nits twenty-four books are the work of various hands, \u201cstitched\ntogether\u201d--such is one explanation of the term \u201crhapsody\u201d--in after\ntimes, and having a common origin only in this, that all sung of the\n\u201cwondrous Tale of Troy.\u201d\n\nThat tale was for generations the mainspring of Greek legend and song,\nand the inspiration of Greek painters and sculptors. At this day, the\nattempt to separate the fabulous from the real, to reduce the rich\ncolouring of romance into the severe outlines of history, is a task\nwhich even in the ablest hands seems hopeless. The legends themselves\nare various, and contradictory in their details. The leading characters\nin the story--Priam, Helen, Agamemnon, Achilles, Ulysses, Paris, Hector\nand Andromache--appear in as many different aspects and relations as the\nfancy of each poet chose. In this respect they are like the heroes of\nour own \u201cRound Table\u201d romances; like Arthur and Guinevere, Lancelot,\nTristram, and Percival--common impersonations on whom all kinds of\nadventures are fastened, though the main characteristics of the portrait\nare preserved throughout. What amount of bare historical truth may or\nmay not underlie the poetical colouring--whether there was or was not a\nreal Greek expedition and a real siege of Troy, less \u201cheroic\u201d and more\nprobable in its extent and details than the Iliad represents it--is no\nquestion to be here discussed. So far as literary interest is\nconcerned, \u201cthe real Trojan war,\u201d as Mr Grote well says, \u201cis that which\nis recounted by Homer.\u201d It will be sufficient here to take the poet as\nour main authority, and to fill up his picture from other legendary\nsources; for though Homer\u2019s version of the Great Trojan War is the\nearliest account which has come down to us, he drew his material from\nstill earlier lays and legends, with which he assumes all his readers\n(or hearers) to be tolerably familiar; and which, again, the later poets\nand tragedians reproduced with many additions and variations of their\nown.\n\nThe preservation of poems of such great length (the Iliad alone contains\nbetween fifteen and sixteen thousand lines) in days when writing, even\nif invented, was in its infancy, has been the subject of much\nspeculation. That they were publicly recited at great national festivals\nin all parts of Greece, is undoubted. Professional minstrels, or\n\u201crhapsodists,\u201d as they were called, chanted certain selected portions\nwhich suited their own taste or that of their audience--often such as\ncontained the exploits of some national hero. They followed possibly in\nthis the example of the great bard himself; just as certain of our own\npopular writers have lately taken to read, to an admiring public, some\nfavourite scenes and chapters from their own works. Lycurgus is said to\nhave brought the collected poems from Asia to Sparta; Solon, at Athens,\nto have first obliged the minstrels to recite the several portions in\ndue order, so as to preserve the continuity of the narrative.\nPisistratus, the great Athenian ruler, has the reputation of having\nfirst reduced the whole into a collected shape, and of having thus far\nsettled the \u201ctext\u201d of Homer, employing in this work the most eminent\nmen of letters of his day. There is a legend of a Homeric \u2018Septuagint:\u2019\nof seventy learned scribes employed in the great work, as in the Greek\nversion of the Hebrew Scriptures. From the time when the Iliad and\nOdyssey were reduced to writing, their popularity rather increased than\nwaned. They were the storehouse of Greek history, genealogy, and\nantiquity--the models and standards of literary taste. To be\nunacquainted with these masterpieces, was to be wholly without culture\nand education: and, thanks to their continual and public recital, this\nwant was perhaps less prevalent amongst the Greeks than amongst\nourselves. The young Alcibiades, when receiving the usual education of a\nGreek gentleman, is said to have struck his tutor one day in a burst of\nrighteous indignation, for having made the confession--certainly\ninexcusable in his vocation--that he did not possess a copy of the great\npoet. Alexander the Great carried always with him the copy which had\nbeen corrected by his master Aristotle, preserved in a jewelled casket\ntaken amongst the spoils of Darius. No pains were spared in the\ncaligraphy, or costliness in the mountings, of favourite manuscripts of\nthe Homeric poems. They continued to be regarded with almost a\nsuperstitious reverence even during the middle ages of Christendom.\nMen\u2019s future destinies were discovered, by a sort of rude divination, in\nverses selected at hap-hazard. Fantastic writers saw in the two poems\nnothing more or less than allegorical versions of Hebrew history; and\ngrave physicians recommended as an infallible recipe for a _quartan_\nague, the placing every night a copy of the _fourth_ book of the Iliad\nunder the patient\u2019s head. Modern critical speculations have gone quite\nas far in another direction. In the eyes of some ingenious theorists,\nthis siege of Troy is but \u201ca repetition of the daily siege of the East\nby the solar powers that every evening are robbed of their brightest\ntreasures in the West;\u201d[2] and the Homeric heroes and their exploits all\nrepresent allegorically, in one form or another, the great conflict\nbetween Light and Darkness. But such questions are beyond the scope of\nthese pages; we are content here to take the tale of Troy as the poet\ntells it.\n\nThe supposed date of the story may be taken as some fifteen centuries\nbefore the Christian era. The great City of Troy, or Ilium, lay on the\ncoast of Asia Minor--its reputed site still bearing the name of the\nTroad, a broad well-watered champaign, with a height still recognised as\nthe citadel towering above it. \u201cNo royal seat of the ancient world,\u201d\nsays a modern visitor to the spot, \u201ccould boast a grander situation than\nthe Trojan citadel.\u201d[3] As to its actual locality and existence, there\nis little ground for scepticism. The tradition of the name and place was\nunbroken in the early historical ages of Greece. Xerxes, king of Persia,\nin his expedition, is said to have visited the citadel, and to have\noffered there a thousand oxen to the tutelary goddess; possibly, it has\nbeen suggested, claiming to be the avenger of the Asiatic kings on their\nEuropean enemies.[4] Mindarus, the Laced\u00e6monian admiral, seventy years\nlater, sacrificed there also: and Alexander, when he crossed the\nHellespont, not only did the same, but took from the temple some of the\nsacred arms which were hung there (said to be those of the heroes of\nthe great siege), offering up his own in exchange. The founder of the\ncity was Ilus, son of Tros, and from these mythical heroes it took its\ntwo names. But its walls were built by the grandson, Laomedon. He\nemployed some remarkable workmen. In one of the most striking and\nsuggestive fables of the Greek mythology, certain of the gods are\nrepresented as being condemned by Zeus (or Jupiter) to a period of\nservitude upon earth. Poseidon (Neptune) and Apollo were under this\ncondemnation, and undertook, for certain rewards, to help Laomedon in\nhis fortifications. But when the work was finished, the ungrateful king\nrepudiated his bargain. As a punishment, a sea-monster is sent to ravage\nhis dominions, who can only be appeased by the sacrifice of a maiden of\nnoble blood. The lot falls upon the king\u2019s own daughter, Hesione. It is\nthe original version of St George and the Dragon. Laomedon offers his\ndaughter, and certain horses of immortal breed (which he seems to count\neven a more valuable prize), to the champion who will deliver her and\nslay the monster. Hercules comes to the rescue; but a second time\nLaomedon breaks his word. He substitutes mortal horses, and refuses his\ndaughter. Hercules attacks the city, kills Laomedon, and carries off the\nprincess Hesione, whom he gives to his comrade Telamon. From this union\nare born two heroes, Ajax and his brother Teucer, whom we shall meet in\nthe second and great Siege of Troy, which forms the subject of Homer\u2019s\nIliad.\n\nThis double perjury of Laomedon\u2019s is one supposed cause of the wrath of\nHeaven resting on the town and its people. Yet Apollo, forgetful, it\nwould seem, of his former unworthy treatment, and only remembering with\naffection the walls which he had helped to build, is represented as\ntaking part with the Trojans in the great struggle, in which the deities\nof Olympus are bitterly divided amongst themselves.\n\nBut Homer\u2019s Tale of Troy says nothing of Laomedon and his broken faith.\nHis poem is built upon a later legend. This legend embraces in the whole\na period of thirty years, divided exactly, in a manner very convenient\nfor both poet and reader, into complete decades; ten years of\npreparation for the siege, ten occupied in the siege itself (with which\nalone the Iliad has to do), and ten consumed in the weary wanderings and\nfinal return home of the surviving Greek heroes who had taken part in\nthe expedition.\n\nThe first decade begins with the carrying off from the court of\nMenelaus, king of Sparta, of his wife Helen, by a young Asiatic prince\nwhom he has entertained in his travels. Helen is the reputed daughter of\nJupiter by Leda, and upon her Venus has bestowed the fatal endowment of\nmatchless and irresistible beauty. The young prince whom she unhappily\ncaptivates is Paris or Alexander, son of Priam, king of Troy. Terrible\noracles had accompanied the birth of him who was to prove the curse of\nhis father\u2019s people. His mother Hecuba dreamed that she gave birth to a\nflaming brand. The child when born was exposed on Mount Ida, so as to\ninsure his death in infancy without incurring the guilt of blood. But,\nas in similar legends, the precaution did but help to fulfil the\nprophecy. In the solitudes of the mountain he grew up, a boy of wondrous\nbeauty, the nursling and the favourite of Venus. There he was called\nupon to decide to whom the \u201cPrize of Beauty\u201d--the golden apple thrown\nby Discord into the feast of the Immortals, with that insidious legend\ninscribed on it--should be awarded. Three competing goddesses--Juno,\nVenus, and Minerva, who at least, as the goddess of wisdom, ought to\nhave known better--appeared before the young shepherd in all the\nsimplicity of immortal costume, in order that he might decide which of\nthem was \u201cthe fairest.\u201d Each tried to bribe him to adjudge the prize to\nherself. The Queen of Heaven offered him power in the future; Minerva,\nwisdom; Venus, the loveliest woman upon earth. Paris chose the last. It\nwas Helen; for Venus took it very little into her account that she had a\nhusband already. It involved also, according to the most picturesque of\nthe legends, a somewhat similar breach of troth on Paris\u2019s part. In the\nvalleys of Ida he had already won the love of the nymph \u0152none, but he\ndeserts her without scruple under the new temptation.[5] He has learnt\nthe secret of his royal birth, and is acknowledged by his father Priam.\nIn spite of the warnings of his sister Cassandra, who has a gift of\nprophecy, and foresees evil from the expedition; in spite, too, of the\nforsaken \u0152none\u2019s wild denunciations, he fits out ships and sets sail for\nGreece. Admitted as a guest to the hospitable court of Menelaus at\nSparta, he charms both him and Helen by his many accomplishments. The\nking, gallant and unsuspicious, and of somewhat easy temperament, as\nappears from several passages of Homer, leaves him still an inmate of\nhis palace, while he himself makes a voyage to Crete. In the husband\u2019s\nabsence, Paris succeeds--not without some degree of violence, according\nto some of the legends--in carrying off the wife, loading his ships at\nthe same time (to give emphatic baseness to the exploit) with a rich\nfreight of gold and treasures, the spoils of his absent host. So Venus\u2019s\npromise is made good, and Priam weakly receives into his palace the\nfatal beauty who is to prove the ruin of the Trojan fortunes.\n\nThe outrage rouses all Greece to arms. Menelaus appeals to his brother\nAgamemnon, king of Argos and Mycen\u00e6, who held some sort of suzerainty\nover the whole of Greece. The brother-kings were the sons of Atreus, of\nthe great house of Pelops, who gave his name to the peninsula known as\nthe Peloponnesus, and now the Morea. It was a house eminent for wealth\nand splendour and influence. According to an old proverb, valour and\nwisdom were given by the gods to other names in larger measure, but\nwealth and power belonged of divine right to the Atrid\u00e6. This power must\nnot be hastily pronounced fabulous. There yet remain traces of the mural\nand sepulchral architecture of Agamemnon\u2019s capital, Mycen\u00e6, which are\nstrongly significant of a pre-historical civilisation--an \u201ciron age\u201d of\nmassive strength and no mean resources.[6] Agamemnon, in Homer\u2019s poem,\ncarries a sceptre which had literally, not metaphorically, come down to\nhim as an heirloom from the king of the gods. Vulcan himself had\nwrought it for Jupiter; Jupiter had given it to Hermes, Hermes to\nPelops, and so it had been handed on. It was in some sort the prototype\nof those more than mortal weapons wielded by the heroes of medieval\nromance, which were one secret of their invincible prowess, and which\nhad come from the hand of no human armourer; like the sword Durentaille,\nwhich belonged to Charlemagne, and was by him given to his nephew\nRoland; like Arthur\u2019s Excalibur; or the marvellous blade Recuite, which\npassed from the hands of Alexander the Great to Ptolemy, from Ptolemy to\nJudas Maccab\u00e6us, and so, through many intermediate owners, to the\nEmperor Vespasian. To the monarchs of the house of Pelops, then,\nbelonged in uncommon degree \u201cthe divinity that doth hedge a king;\u201d and\nAgamemnon is recognised, throughout the whole of the Homeric story, as\npre-eminently \u201cKing of Men.\u201d But a terrible curse rested on the house--a\ncurse connected with a revolting legend, which, as not recognised by\nHomer, needs no further notice here, but which was to find ample\nfulfilment in the sequel of Agamemnon\u2019s history.\n\nThe royal sons of Atreus take hasty counsel with such of the\nneighbouring kings and chiefs as they can collect, how they may avenge\nthe wrong. One legend tells us that Tyndarus, the reputed father of\nHelen, before he gave her in marriage to Menelaus, had pledged all her\nsuitors, among whom were the noblest names of Greece, to avenge any such\nattempt against the honour of the husband he should choose for her,\nwhichever of them he might be: and that they now redeemed that pledge\nwhen called upon by the king of Sparta. Nestor, king of Pylos, and a\nchief named Palamedes, went through the coasts of Greece, denouncing\nthe perfidy of the foreign adventurer, and rousing the national feeling\nof the Greeks, or, as Homer prefers to call them, the Ach\u00e6ans. The\nchiefs did not all obey the summons willingly. Odysseus--better known to\nus under the Latin form of his name as Ulysses--king of the rocky island\nof Ithaca, feigned madness to escape from his engagement. But the shrewd\nPalamedes detected the imposture. He went to the field where the king,\nafter the simple fashion of the times, was ploughing, carrying with him\nfrom the house his infant child Telemachus, and laid him down in the\nfurrow which Ulysses was moodily driving, apparently insensible to all\nother sights and sounds. The father turned the plough aside, and his\nassumed madness was at once detected. In some cases, where there were\nseveral sons of military age in the same family, lots were cast for the\nunwelcome honour of serving against Troy. Some even sent bribes to\nAgamemnon to induce him to set them free from their engagement.\nEchepolus of Sicyon, loath to leave his vast possessions, sent to the\ngreat king his celebrated mare \u0152the, the fleetest of her kind, as his\npersonal ransom. The bribe was accepted, and \u0152the went to Troy instead\nof her luxurious master. The story has been adduced in proof of\nAgamemnon\u2019s greediness in thus preferring private gain to the public\ninterests: but no less a critic than Aristotle has sagaciously observed,\nthat a good horse was a far more valuable conscript than an unwilling\nsoldier. Some heroes, on the other hand, went resolutely to the war,\nthough the fates foretold that they should never return from it alive.\nEuchenor of Corinth, though rich like Echepolus, could not be persuaded\nto remain at home, even when his aged father, who was a seer himself,\nforewarned him of his doom; he boldly dared his fate, and fell at the\nclose of the siege by the hand of Paris.\n\nUnder somewhat similar auguries the great hero of Homer\u2019s tale left his\nhome for Troy. Achilles, said the legends, was the son of the\nocean-goddess Thetis by a mortal lover, Peleus son of \u00c6acus. The gods\nhad honoured the marriage with their personal presence--\n\n    \u201cFor in that elder time, when truth and worth\n     Were still revered and cherished here on earth,\n     The tenants of the skies would oft descend\n     To heroes\u2019 spotless homes, as friend to friend;\n     There meet them face to face, and freely share\n     In all that stirred the hearts of mortals there.\u201d[7]\n\nThe Roman poet Catullus tells us in the same beautiful ode, how mortals\nand immortals alike brought their wedding gifts: Chiron the centaur\n(\u201cthat divine beast,\u201d as Pindar calls him) comes from the mountains\nladen with coronals of flowers for the banquet, and Peneus, the\nThessalian river-god, brings whole trees of beech and bay and cypress to\nshade the guests. Even the three weird sisters, the inexorable Fates,\ntune their voices for this once into a nuptial hymn, and while their\nspindles \u201crun and weave the threads of doom,\u201d they chant the future\nglories of the child that shall be born from this auspicious union.\nNeptune presents the fortunate bridegroom with two horses of divine\nbreed--Xanthus and Balius--and Chiron gives him a wondrous ashen spear.\nBoth these gifts passed afterwards as heirlooms to Achilles, the\noffspring of this marriage, and were carried by him to Troy.\n\nAchilles is the very model of a hero, such as heroes would be accounted\nin times when the softer and nobler qualities of true heroism were\nunknown. Strong and beautiful in person, as a goddess-born should be;\nhaughty, and prompt to resent insult, but gallant and generous;\npassionate alike in his love and in his hate; a stanch friend, and a\nbitter enemy. He is the prototype of Sir Lancelot in many points--\u201cthe\ngoodliest person that ever came among press of knights--the truest\nfriend to his lover that ever bestrod horse--the sternest man to his\nmortal foe that ever put spear in rest.\u201d The epithet which Homer himself\ngives him is precisely that which was given to the English king who was\nheld to be the flower of chivalry--\u201cLionheart.\u201d Though in personal\nstrength and speed of foot he excels all the other heroes of the\nexpedition, yet he is not a mere fighter, like his comrade Ajax, but has\nall the finer tastes and accomplishments of an age which, however fierce\nand barbarous in many respects, shows yet a high degree of civilisation.\nMusic and song beguile for him the intervals of battle, and, whether\nindignant, sarcastic, or pathetic, he is always an admirable speaker.\nThere is something of a melancholy interest about him, too, not\ninappropriate to a hero of romance, which the poet never allows us to\nforget. He has come to Troy with his doom upon him, and he knows it. His\ngoddess-mother has told him that there is a twofold destiny possible for\nhim: either to live in wealth and peace, and such happiness as they can\nbring, a long life of inglorious ease in his native land of Phthia, or\nto embrace in foreign warfare a brief career of victory, a warrior\u2019s\ndeath, and undying glory. He makes his choice as a hero should--\n\n    \u201cOne crowded hour of glorious life\n     Is worth an age without a name.\u201d\n\nOne fable runs that his mother, Thetis, dipped him when an infant in the\nriver Styx, which made him invulnerable in every point except the heel,\nby which she held him:[8] but there is no mention of this in the Iliad,\nand he goes into battle, for all that appears, as liable to wounds and\ndeath as any other mortal warrior, and with a presentiment that the last\nawaits him before the capture of Troy is complete.\n\nAt length the ten years\u2019 preparations were all completed. The harbour of\nAulis on the coast of B\u0153otia was the place fixed for the rendezvous.\nFrom every quarter where the great race of the Ach\u00e6ans had\nsettled,--from the wooded valleys of Thessaly, from all the coasts of\nthe Peloponnesus, and the neighbouring islands, from Ithaca and\nCephallenia on the west to Crete and Rhodes on the east--the chiefs and\ntheir following were gathered. A hundred ships--long half-decked\nrow-galleys, whose average complement was about eighty men--were manned\nfrom Agamemnon\u2019s own kingdom of Mycen\u00e6, and he supplied also sixty more\nto carry the contingent of the Arcadians, who, as an inland people, had\nno fleet of their own. His brother Menelaus brought sixty; Nestor of\nPylos, ninety; Idomeneus of Crete, and Diomed of Argos, eighty each.\nUlysses and Ajax did but contribute each twelve galleys; but the leaders\nwere a host in themselves. In all there were twelve hundred vessels,\ncarrying above 100,000 men. With the exception of the chiefs and two or\nthree officials attached to each galley, such as the helmsman and the\nsteward, all on board were rowers when at sea, and fighting-men on land.\nThe expedition has been well termed a secular crusade. It was\nundertaken, as modern politicians would say, \u201cfor an idea;\u201d not for\nconquest, but for a point of honour. It might be questioned, indeed, how\nfar the object was worth the cost. There was at least one of the\nneighbouring kings who at the time took a very unromantic and\nutilitarian view of the matter. Poltis, king of Thrace, was applied to\namongst the rest for his assistance. He inquired into the cause of the\nexpedition; and when he heard it, he suggested an arrangement which\nmight accommodate all differences without the necessity of an appeal to\narms. \u201cIt is hard,\u201d he said, \u201cfor Menelaus to lose a wife: yet very\nprobably Paris wanted one. Now I have two wives, whom I can well spare;\nI will send one to Menelaus, and the other to Paris; and so all parties\nwill be satisfied.\u201d But we might have lost the Iliad if his counsel had\nbeen taken.\n\nThe great host set sail; but the first time, says the legend, they\nmissed their way. They mistook a part of the coast called Teuthrania for\nthe plains of Troy; and then, re-embarking, were driven by a storm back\nto the shores of Greece. A second time they made their rendezvous at\nAulis; but Agamemnon had incurred the anger of Diana, and the fleet lay\nwind-bound for many weeks. It was then that deed of purest tragedy was\ndone, which, though it forms no part of Homer\u2019s story, has been so often\nthe subject of song, of painting, and of sculpture, and has received so\nmany illustrations in modern literature, that it must find place here.\nThe king is informed by the oracle that the wrath of Heaven can only be\nappeased by the sacrifice of his virgin daughter Iphianassa, or as she\nis more commonly called, Iphigenia. Reluctantly, and only after a bitter\nstruggle with his feelings, urged by the importunate clamour of the\nwhole army, and in obedience to his conception of his duties as their\nchief, the father consented. The story is immortalised by the anecdote\ntold of Timanthes, the painter of Sicyon, when competing with a rival in\na picture of the sacrifice. The point of admitted difficulty with both\nthe competitors was to portray the agony in the father\u2019s features at the\nmoment when the sacrificing priest was about to strike the fatal blow.\nThe great artist represented the king as wrapping his face in the folds\nof his mantle, and was at once pronounced the winner of the prize. Mr\nTennyson--never more successful than when he draws his inspiration from\nthe old classical sources--has made tasteful use of both legend and\nanecdote in his \u2018Dream of Fair Women.\u2019 It is Iphigenia who speaks:--\n\n    \u201cI was cut off from hope in that sad place,\n       Which yet to name my spirit loathes and fears:\n     My father held his hand upon his face;\n       I, blinded with my tears,\n\n    \u201cStill strove to speak: my voice was thick with sighs,\n       As in a dream. Dimly I could descry\n     The stern black-bearded kings with wolfish eyes,\n       Waiting to see me die.\n\n    \u201cThe tall masts quivered as they lay afloat,\n       The temples and the people and the shore;\n     One drew a sharp knife through my tender throat,\n       Slowly,--and nothing more.\u201d\n\nThere was, however, a less harrowing version of the legend. As in the\nparallel case of Jephtha\u2019s daughter, there were found interpreters who\ncould not bear that the sacrifice should be carried out. They said that\nin mercy Diana substituted a fawn, and carried off the maiden to serve\nher as a priestess in perpetual maidenhood at her shrine in the Tauric\nChersonese. It is this version of the tale which the Greek tragedian\nEuripides has followed in his \u201cIphigenia in Aulis.\u201d Racine, in his\ntragedy, avails himself of a third version of the catastrophe. The\nvictim whom Calchas\u2019 oracle demands must be a princess of the blood of\nHelen. This Agamemnon\u2019s daughter was--her mother Clytemnestra being\nHelen\u2019s sister. But at the last moment another Iphigenia is found,\noffspring of a previous secret marriage of Helen with Theseus. The\nFrench tragedian, following Euripides in representing the princess as\npromised in marriage to Achilles, has given the necessary amount of\nromance to the _denouement_ by introducing the hero as an impetuous\nlover of the modern type, surrounding the altar with his faithful\nMyrmidons, and vowing that Calchas himself shall be the first\nvictim--until the old soothsayer hits upon the expedient of a\nsatisfactory substitute.\n\nThe wrath of Diana is appeased, the favouring gales are granted, and\nonce more the Greek armament sets sail. They break their voyage at the\nisland of Tenedos; and from thence Menelaus, accompanied by Ulysses, who\nis the diplomatist of the army, proceeds to Troy to make a final demand\nfor reparation. Even now, if the Trojans will give back Helen and the\ntreasures, the Greeks will be satisfied. But the terms were rejected,\nthough the reception of the embassy at Troy seems to mark a high state\nof civilisation. So the expedition proceeds: but before they make good\ntheir landing on the Trojan coast, the Fates demand another victim. The\noracle had said that the first who set foot on Trojan soil must fall.\nThere was a hesitation even among the bravest of the Greeks, and the\nTrojans and their allies were lining the shore. Protesilaus of Phylac\u00e8,\nwith a gallant disregard of omens, leapt to land, and fell, first of his\ncountrymen, by a Dardanian spear--launched, as one legend has it, by the\nnoble hand of Hector. Homer has a pathetic touch in his mention of\nhim:--\n\n    \u201cUnfinished his proud palaces remain,\n     And his sad consort beats her breast in vain.\u201d\n\nOn this slight foundation the Roman poet, Ovid, has constructed one of\nthe sweetest of his imaginary \u2018Epistles\u2019--that of the wife Laodamia to\nthe husband of whom she complains as sending no message home, undreaming\nthat he had long since found a grave on the soil of Troy. A later legend\ntells us that she wearied the gods with prayers and tears, by night and\nday, to obtain permission to see her husband once again on earth. The\nboon was granted: for the space of three hours the dead hero was allowed\nto revisit his home, and Laodamia died in his embrace. There is a poetic\nsequel to the tradition, preserved by Pliny,[9] and thus beautifully\nrendered in the concluding lines of Wordsworth\u2019s \u2018Laodamia:\u2019--\n\n                          \u201cUpon the side\n    Of Hellespont (such faith was entertained)\n    A knot of spiry trees for ages grew\n    From out the tomb of him for whom she died;\n    And ever, when such stature they had gained\n    That Ilium\u2019s walls were subject to their view,\n    The trees\u2019 tall summits withered at the sight--\n    A constant interchange of growth and blight!\u201d\n\nThe Trojans, too, had their allies, who came to their aid, when the\ninvasion was imminent, from the neighbouring tribes of Mysia, Caria,\nPhrygia, and even the coast towns of Thrace. The most renowned of these\nauxiliary chiefs were Sarpedon, who led the Lycian troops, and \u00c6neas,\ncommander of the Dardanians. Both claimed an immortal descent: \u00c6neas was\nthe son of Venus by a human lover, Anchises, and sprung from a branch of\nthe royal house of Troy: Sarpedon\u2019s father was no less than Jupiter\nhimself. Next after Hector, the most warlike, but not the eldest of the\nsons of Priam, these are the most illustrious names on the side of the\nTrojans in Homer\u2019s story. But the force of the invaders was too strong\nto allow their adversaries to keep the open field. Soon they were driven\ninside the walls of the city, while the Greeks ravaged all the\nneighbouring coast almost unopposed, and maintained themselves at the\nenemy\u2019s cost. Then began the weary siege which wasted the hopes and\nresources of both armies for ten long years. To the long night-watches\nround the camp-fires of the Greeks we are indebted--so the legends\nsay--for at least one invention which has enlivened many a waste hour\nsince, and also, it perhaps may be said, has wasted some hours for its\nmore enthusiastic admirers. Palamedes, to cheer the nagging spirits of\nhis countrymen, invented for them, among other pastimes, the nobler\ngame of chess; and kings and castles, knights and pawns, still move in\nillustration of the greater game which was then being played on the\nplains of Troy. The inventor met with but an ungrateful return,\naccording to one gloomy legend--which, however, is not Homer\u2019s. Ulysses\nhad never forgiven him the detection of the pretence of madness by which\nhe had sought himself to escape the service; nor could he bear so close\na rival in what he considered his own exclusive field of subtlety and\nstratagem. He took the occasion of a fishing expedition to plunge the\nunfortunate chief overboard.\n\nSo much of preface seems almost necessary to enable any reader to whom\nthe Greek mythology is not already familiar ground, to take up Homer\u2019s\ntale with some such previous acquaintance with the subject as the bard\nhimself would have given him credit for. The want of it has sometimes\nmade the study of the Iliad less interesting and less intelligent than\nit should have been, even to those who have approached it with some\nknowledge of the original language.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe galleys of the Greeks, when they reached the Trojan coast, were all\ndrawn up on shore, as was their invariable custom at the end of a\nvoyage, and kept in an upright position by wooden shores. The crews,\nwith the exception of some two or three \u201cship-keepers\u201d for each galley,\ndisembarked, and formed some kind of encampment near their respective\nvessels. Achilles\u2019 station was on one wing, and that of Ajax on the\nother; these points of danger being assigned to the leaders of highest\nrepute for valour. The chiefs fought in war-chariots of very light\nconstruction, on two wheels and open at the back. These were drawn by\ntwo--or sometimes three--horses, and carried two persons, both standing;\nthe fighter, armed with sword and shield, and one or two long spears\nwhich were usually hurled at the enemy--and his charioteer, usually a\nfriend of nearly equal rank. The fighters in most cases dismounted from\ntheir chariots when they came to close quarters, their charioteers\nattending on their movements. The combatants of lower degree fought on\nfoot. There is no mention of cavalry.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ILIAD.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nTHE QUARREL OF AGAMEMNON AND ACHILLES.\n\n\nAdopting for himself a method which has since become a rule of art, more\nor less acknowledged in the literature of fiction, the poet dashes off\nat once into the full action of his story. He does not ask his readers\nor hearers to accompany the great armament over sea from the shores of\nGreece, or give them the history of the long and weary siege. He plunges\nat one leap into the tenth year of the war. He assumes from the outset,\non the part of those to whom he speaks, a general knowledge of the main\nplot of his poem, and of the characters represented: just as the modern\nauthor of a novel or a poem on the Civil Wars of England would assume\nsome general acquaintance with the history of Charles I., the character\nof Cromwell, and the breach between King and Commons. Nine whole years\nare supposed to have already passed in desultory warfare; but for the\ndetails of these campaigns the modern reader has to go to other sources,\nwith which also the original hearers are supposed to have been\nacquainted. The Trojans and their allies are cooped up within the walls\nof their city, while the Greek hero Achilles has spread the terror of\nhis name far and wide.\n\nThe poet\u2019s exordium is of the very briefest. His invocation to the\ngoddess of song is in just three words:--\n\n    \u201cSing, heavenly muse, the wrath of Peleus\u2019 son.\u201d\n\nWe have here the key-note of the poem brought before us in the very\nfirst line--nay, in the very first word, according to the original, for\n\u201cwrath\u201d stands first in the Greek, which it cannot very conveniently do\nin the English. The two great heroes of the Greek chivalry, Agamemnon\nand Achilles, always jealous of each other, come to an open quarrel in\nfull council of the princes of the League. Their quarrel is--like the\noriginal cause of the war, like so many quarrels before and since--about\na woman, a beautiful captive. A fatal pestilence is raging in the camp.\nThe Sun-god, Apollo, is angry. To him and to his twin-sister Diana, the\nMoon, all mysterious diseases were attributed--not without some\nsufficient reasons, in a hot climate. Pestilence and disease were the\narrows of Apollo and Diana. Therefore the Greeks have no doubt as to the\nauthor of the present calamity. It is \u201cthe god of the silver bow\u201d who is\nsending his swift shafts of death amongst them. The poet\u2019s vision even\nsees the dread Archer in bodily shape. It is a fine picture; the English\nreader will lose little of its beauty in Lord Derby\u2019s version:--\n\n    \u201cAlong Olympus\u2019 heights he passed, his heart\n     Burning with wrath; behind his shoulders hung\n     His bow and ample quiver; at his back\n     Rattled the fateful arrows as he moved.\n     Like the night-cloud he passed, and from afar\n     He bent against the ships, and sped the bolt;\n     And fierce and deadly twanged the silver bow.\n     First on the mules and dogs, on man the last,\n     Was poured the arrowy storm; and through the camp\n     Constant and numerous blazed the funeral-fires.\u201d\n\nIn their misery the Greeks appeal to their soothsayer Calchas, to divine\nfor them the cause of the god\u2019s displeasure. The Mantis or soothsayer,\nwhose skill was in most cases supposed to be hereditary, accompanied a\nGreek force on all its expeditions; and no prudent general would risk a\nbattle, or engage in any important enterprise, without first\nascertaining from this authority the will of the gods, as shadowed out\nin certain appearances of the sacrifice, or some peculiarity in the\nflight of birds, or some phenomena of the heavens. In this particular\nexpedition it would appear that Calchas had turned the last branch of\nhis art to good purpose; it must have been his knowledge of the stars\nwhich had enabled him, as Homer tells us, to pilot the great fleet from\ntheir own shores to Troy. He confesses that he can read the secret of\nApollo\u2019s present wrath; but he hesitates to tell it, dreading, he says,\nlest he should thereby anger the \u201cgreat chief whom the whole host\nobeys.\u201d Achilles charges him to speak out boldly without fear or favour;\nnone shall harm him--not even if he should denounce Agamemnon himself as\nthe cause of this visitation, adds the hero, gladly seizing the\nopportunity of hurling a defiance at his great rival. Thus supported,\nthe seer speaks out; Agamemnon is indeed the guilty cause. In a late\nforay he had taken captive the maiden daughter of Chryses, a priest of\nthe Sun-god, and the father had come to the camp of the invaders as a\nsuppliant, pleading the sanctity of his office, and offering a fitting\nransom. The great king had refused to listen, had sent him away with\nbitter words and threats; and the priest had prayed to his god to punish\nthe insult: hence the pestilence. Immediately the popular\nvoice--expressed loudly through Achilles--demands the maiden\u2019s instant\nrestitution to her father. Agamemnon, though burning with indignation\nalike against the seer and his champion, dares not refuse. His\nprerogative, however generally admitted and respected by the confederate\narmy, is dependent in such extremities on the popular will. He promises\nat once to send back the daughter of Chryses unharmed and without\nransom. But at the same time, after a stormy and bitter dispute with\nAchilles, he announces his intention to insist on that chief resigning,\nby way of exchange, a fair captive named Briseis, carried off in some\nsimilar raid, who had been awarded to him as his share of the public\nspoil. To this insolent demand the majority of the council of chiefs,\ncontent with their victory on the main question, appear to raise no\nobjection. But Achilles--his impetuous nature roused to madness by the\nstudied insult--leaps up and half unsheathes his sword. Even then--such\nis the Greek\u2019s reverence for authority--he hesitates; and as he stands\nwith his hand upon the hilt, there sweeps down from Olympus[10] Pallas\nAthene (Minerva), the goddess of wisdom, sent by Here (Juno) Queen of\nHeaven to check this fatal strife between her favourite Greeks. The\ncelestial messenger is visible to Achilles alone. She calms the hero\u2019s\nwrath so far as to restrain him from any act of violence; but, as she\ndisappears, he turns on his enemy, and swears a mighty oath--the royal\noath of kings--by the golden-studded staff, or \u201csceptre,\u201d which was\nborne by king, priest, and judge as the emblem of their authority.\nPope\u2019s rendering has all the fire of the original, and the additional\ntouches which he throws in are at least in a kindred spirit:--\n\n    \u201cBy this I swear, when bleeding Greece again\n     Shall call Achilles, she shall call in vain:\n     When flushed with slaughter Hector comes to spread\n     The purpled shore with mountains of the dead,\n     Then shalt thou mourn th\u2019 affront thy madness gave,\n     Forced to deplore, when impotent to save;\n     Then rage in bitterness of soul, to know\n     This act has made the bravest Greek thy foe.\u201d\n\nHe dashes his sceptre on the ground, and sits down in savage silence.\nAgamemnon is ready enough to return the taunt, when there rises in the\nassembly a venerable figure, whose grey hairs and tried sagacity in\ncouncil command at once the respect of all. It is Nestor, the\nhoary-headed chieftain of the rocky Pylos in the Peloponnese--known in\nhis more vigorous days as \u201cthe horse-tamer,\u201d and, in sooth, not a little\nproud of his past exploits. Two generations of men he has already\noutlived in his own dominions, and is now loved and respected by the\nthird. He has joined the great armament still sound in wind and limb;\nbut he is valued now not so much for his\n\n    \u201cRed hand in the foray,\u201d\n\nas for his\n\n    \u201cSage counsel in cumber.\u201d\n\nHe can clothe this counsel, too, in winning words. The stream of\neloquence that flowed from his lips, says the poet, was \u201csweeter than\nhoney.\u201d He gently reproves both disputants for their unseemly strife--a\nshame to the Greeks, a triumph to the enemy. His words ring like the\nlament of David over the suicide of Saul--\u201cTell it not in Gath, publish\nit not in the streets of Askelon, lest the daughters of the Philistines\nrejoice.\u201d\n\n    \u201cAlas, deep sorrow on our land doth fall!\n     Yet shall on Priam and his sons alight\n     Hope, and a great joy on the Trojans all,\n     Hearing ye waste in bitter feud your might,\n     Ye twain, our best in counsel and in fight.\u201d (W.)\n\nHe proceeds to tell them something of his own long experience, by way of\nclaim on their attention--with something also, as critics have noticed,\nof an old man\u2019s garrulity. But the reader, it should be remembered,\nreally wants to know something about him, even if the Greeks may have\nbeen supposed to have heard his story before.\n\n                          \u201cIn times past\n    I lived with men--and they despised me not--\n    Abler in counsel, greater than yourselves.\n    Such men I never saw and ne\u2019er shall see,\n    As Pirithous and Dryas, wise and brave,\n    And Theseus, \u0152geus\u2019 more than mortal son.\n    The mightiest they among the sons of men,\n    The mightiest they, and of the forest beasts\n    Strove with the mightiest, and their rage subdued.\n    With them I played my part; with them, not one\n    Would dare to fight of mortals now on earth.\n    Yet they my counsels heard, my voice obeyed;\n    And hear ye also--for my words are wise.\u201d (D.)\n\nThe angry chiefs do hear him so far, that after the interchange of a few\nmore passionate words they leave the council. Achilles stalks off\ngloomily to his tent, accompanied by his faithful friend and henchman,\nPatroclus (of whom we shall hear more), and followed by his retinue.\nAgamemnon proceeds at once to carry out his resolution. He despatches a\ngalley with a trusty crew, under the command of the sage Ulysses, to the\nisland of Chrysa, to restore the old priest\u2019s daughter to him in all\nhonour, with expiatory presents, and the offer of a hecatomb to the\nSun-god. They make the voyage quickly, and arrive safely at the island.\nThe rapid movement here of Homer\u2019s verse has rarely been more happily\nrendered than in the English hexameters of Mr Landon:--\n\n    \u201cOut were the anchors cast, and the ropes made fast to the steerage;\n     Out did the sailors leap on the foaming beach of the ocean;\n     Out was the hecatomb led for the skilful marksman Apollo;\n     Out Chryseis arose from the ship that sped through the waters.\u201d\n\nSo, by the good priest\u2019s prayers, the god is propitiated, and the plague\nin the Greek host is stayed.\n\nMeanwhile another embassy, on a very different errand, has been\ndespatched by the King of Men to the tents where Achilles lies, hard by\nhis ships, with his fierce bands of Myrmidons encamped around him. Their\nname has passed into a by-word, being commonly but incorrectly used to\ndesignate an unscrupulous rabble of followers, to whom their leader\u2019s\nword is law. The notion must be derived not from Homer, but from Pope.\nIn his version of the quarrel between Agamemnon and Achilles, he makes\nthe former say to his antagonist--\n\n    \u201cGo, threat thine earth-born Myrmidons; but here\n     \u2019Tis mine to threaten, prince, and thine to fear.\u201d\n\nBut to suppose that the Myrmidons were subservient to any man\u2019s threats,\nis to give them a very different character from what we find in Homer.\nEven the epithet \u201cearth-born,\u201d which is Pope\u2019s, not Homer\u2019s, and which\nmay easily be misunderstood, they would have prized as a high\ncompliment, implying that they were no new race, but the aboriginal\npossessors of their native soil; just as the proud Athenians wore the\n\u201cgolden grasshopper\u201d in their hair, because that insect was fabled to\nowe its birth to the spontaneous action of the earth. The followers of\nAchilles were indeed \u201cfierce as ravening wolves,\u201d as the poet has\nafterwards described them; but they were the very flower of the Greek\narmy, troops of whom any leader might be proud, and if they had a\nwolfish thirst for blood, they were no worse and no better in this\nrespect than Achilles himself, or any captain in the host before Troy;\nfor an insatiable ferocity, when once the spirit of combativeness is\naroused, is the characteristic of all Homer\u2019s heroes, as in those of the\nmedieval romances.\n\nThe purpose of the king\u2019s embassy to Achilles is, of course, in\npursuance of his threat, to demand the surrender of the fair Briseis.\nSuch a message to such a man is no very safe or agreeable errand. But\nAgamemnon chooses his envoys well. He sends two heralds--Eurybates and\nTalthybius. The herald\u2019s office, in early Greek warfare, had an especial\nsanctity. Those who held it were not mere officials whose name protected\nthem, but men of noble and even of royal birth, who might have been\ncaptains of thousands themselves, if they had not chosen, as it were,\nthe civilian\u2019s place in warfare. Such diplomacy as there was room for\nin those ages was transacted by them. They were under the special\nprotection of Zeus, as the god of oaths and treaties. There was no fear\nthat the noble chief of the Myrmidons, even in his most furious mood,\nwould treat such envoys rudely. But in fact his reception of them is one\nof the most remarkable scenes in the poem, both from its high-toned\ncourtesy and from its strong contrast with the hero\u2019s previous bearing\ntowards Agamemnon. Achilles receives the heralds of the king much as a\nwell-bred gentleman of fifty years ago would have received the \u201cfriend\u201d\nwho carried a hostile message from one with whom he had a deadly quarrel\na few hours before. The demand which they brought from Agamemnon was\npointed with the additional threat that, if he refused to give up the\ndamsel, the king would come himself and carry her off by the strong\nhand,--a threat almost brutal, because quite unwarranted; since Achilles\nhad declared in the council that if the Greeks, who had awarded her as\nhis battle-prize, chose to acquiesce in the injustice of demanding her\nback from him, _he_ should make no resistance. But it does not seem that\nthe heralds delivered themselves of the additional insult which they\nwere charged to convey. They had no need. As they stand at the entrance\nof his tent, \u201ctroubled and awe-stricken,\u201d loath to begin their unwelcome\ntale, Achilles sets them at their ease at once in a few calm and\ndignified words. He recognises in them \u201cthe messengers of Zeus\u201d--and if\nnow by accident of Agamemnon, the offence is his, not theirs. He at once\nbids Patroclus lead forth the damsel, and gives her into their custody,\nto deal with according to their orders. He repeats his oath, however,\nthough in calmer terms; and calls them to witness before heaven that\nAgamemnon, in his day of need, shall look in vain for the saving arm of\nthe man he has insulted.\n\nIt is something in favour of a tender side to the hero\u2019s character, that\nthe \u201cfair-cheeked\u201d Briseis, spoil of war though she was, parts from him\nvery reluctantly. Achilles, for his share, fairly weeps: but not the\nmost romantic reader of the story dares nurse the idea that it is for\nhis Briseis. They who bring with them, to the pages of classical\nfiction, a taste which has been built up by modern song and romance,\nmust be warned at once that there is no love-story in either Iliad or\nOdyssey. Indeed, one remarkable point of difference between the\nimaginative writers of antiquity and those of our own days, lies in the\nabsence of that which is the motive and the key-note of five-sixths of\nour modern tales in prose and verse. Love between unmarried persons, in\nthe sense in which we commonly use the word, seems very much the product\nof modern civilisation. There is indeed a passion which we name by the\nsame English word--the mere animal passion, which Homer, to do him\njustice, deals with but as a matter of fact, and never paints in\nattractive colours. There is again a love of another kind--the love of\nthe husband for his wife and of the wife for her husband--which the old\npoet also well understood, and which furnishes him with scenes of the\nhighest pathos and beauty. But as to the sentiment which forms the\ncommon staple of modern romance and drama, Homer certainly did not know\nwhat it meant, nor Achilles or Briseis either. As for the latter, if she\nshed tears, it was no doubt because she had found in Achilles a kind\nand generous lord and master, who had made her captive lot (which might\nchance to come to the turn of any lady or princess in those warlike\ntimes) as tolerable as such a life could be; and because Agamemnon--if\nshe had heard his character from Achilles--did not promise a very\nfavourable change in that respect.\n\nAchilles weeps--but not for Briseis. He is touched in a point where he\nis far more sensitive--his honour. He has been robbed of the guerdon of\nvalour, bestowed on him in full conclave of the chiefs of the army. He\nhas been robbed of it by Agamemnon--the man for whose especial sake, to\navenge whose family wrongs, he has come on this long expedition from his\nhome. This was his indignant protest in their dispute at the council--\n\n    \u201cWell dost thou know that \u2019twas no feud of mine\n     With Troy\u2019s brave sons, that brought me here in arms;\n     They never did me wrong; they never drove\n     My cattle, or my horses; never sought\n     In Phthia\u2019s fertile life-sustaining fields\n     To waste the crops; for wide between us lay\n     The shadowy mountains and the roaring sea.\n     With thee, O void of shame! with thee we sailed,\n     For Menela\u00fcs and for thee, ingrate,\n     Glory and fame on Trojan crests to win.\u201d (D.)\n\nAnd now this is his reward! And the whole Greek army, too, have made\nthemselves partakers in the wrong, inasmuch as they have tamely looked\non, and allowed the haughty king thus to override honour, gratitude, and\njustice. His indignation is intense. He wanders away, and sits alone on\nthe sea-beach, \u201cgazing vacantly on the illimitable ocean.\u201d Soon there\ncomes a change upon his spirit; and now, with a childlike\npetulance--these Homeric heroes, with all their fierce ways, are still\nso very childlike, and therefore so human and so interesting--he cries\nto his mother. True, that mother is, as we remember, a goddess--Thetis,\ndaughter of the great Jupiter, and of potent influence in the waters\nbeneath the earth. To her he bemoans himself. That his days were to be\nfew, he knew when he came here to Troy; but she had promised him undying\nrenown. It has failed him: his \u201cone crowded hour of glorious life\u201d is\ndarkened in dishonour. He cries, and his goddess-mother hears him--\n\n    \u201cBeside her aged father where she sat,\n     In the deep ocean-caves.\u201d\n\nIt is the original of our own Milton\u2019s beautiful invocation in\nComus--the rough simple outline on which he has painted with a grace and\nfulness which make it all his own--\n\n    \u201cSabrina fair!\n       Listen, where thou art sitting\n     Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,\n       In twisted braids of lilies knitting\n     The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair;\n       Listen for dear honour\u2019s sake,\n       Goddess of the silver lake,\n                 Listen, and save!\u201d\n\nThetis hears, and rises on the sea--\u201clike as it were a mist\u201d--(the\n\u201cWhite Lady of Avenel\u201d) caresses him soothingly with her hand, as though\nthe stalwart warrior were still a child indeed, and asks him the simple\nquestion which all mothers, goddesses or not, would put into much the\nsame words--\u201cMy son, why weepest thou?\u201d He tells his tale of wrong; and\nshe proceeds to give him, in the first place, advice certainly not wiser\nthan that of some earthly mothers. She does not advise him to make up\nhis quarrel with Agamemnon, but to nurse his wrath, and withdraw\nhimself wholly from the siege. She, meanwhile, will intercede with\nJupiter, and beseech him to grant the Trojans victory for a while, that\nso the Greeks may learn to feel the loss of the hero whom they have\ninsulted.\n\nThere is an obstacle, however, in the way of the immediate performance\nof her promise--a ludicrous obstacle, to our modern taste, though the\npoet does not so intend it. The King of the Gods has gone out to\ndinner--or rather to a continuous festival of twelve days, to which he\nhas been invited by \u201cthe blameless Ethiopians;\u201d[11] a race with whom the\nImmortals of Olympus have some mysterious connection, which has been\nheld to imply an Eastern origin for the Greek religion and race. With\nthe dawn of the twelfth morning, however, Thetis presents herself in the\n\u201cbrazen-floored\u201d halls of Jupiter, and we are introduced to the Olympian\ncourt and household. A strange picture it is--such a travesty of a\ndivine life as makes us wonder what the poet himself really conceived of\nthe gods of his adoption. The life of mortal heroes in the world below\nis grandeur and nobleness itself compared with that of the Olympian\nheaven. Its pleasures indeed are much the same--those of sensual\ngratification; the feast, the wine-cup, music and song, are what gods\nand goddesses delight in as much as those whom the poet pathetically\ncalls \u201cthe creatures of a day.\u201d But all their passions are incomparably\nmeaner. The wrath of Achilles is dignified--Juno\u2019s anger against Troy\nis mere vicious spite. The subtle craft of Ulysses is at least exercised\nfor the benefit of his countrymen and their cause; but the shifty\ncounsels of Jupiter are the mere expedients of a cunning despot who,\nbetween queen and ministers and favourites, finds it difficult, in spite\nof his despotism, to have his own way. The quarrel between Agamemnon and\nAchilles is tragedy: the domestic wrangles of the Thunderer and his\nqueen are in the very spirit of low comedy, and not even the burlesques\nof Life in Olympus, which some years ago were popular on our English\nstage, went far beyond the recognised legends of mythology. In fact, the\ncomic element, what little there is of it in the Iliad, is supplied\n(with the single exception of the incident of Thersites) by the powers\nwhom the poet recognises as divinities. The idea of rival wills and\ninfluences existing in the supernatural world led the poet necessarily\nto represent his gods as quarrelling; and quarrels in a primitive age\nare perhaps hardly compatible with dignity. But the conception of gods\nin human shape has always a tendency to monstrosities and caricature.\nHow close, too, the supernatural and the grotesque seem to lie together\nmay be seen even in the existing sculptures and carvings of ancient\nChristendom, and still more remarkably in the old Miracle-Plays, which\nmix buffoonery with the most sacred subjects in a manner which it is\nhard to reconcile with any real feeling of reverence.\n\nThetis throws herself at the feet of her father Jupiter, and begs of\nhim, as a personal favour, the temporary humiliation of Agamemnon and\nhis Greeks. For a while the Thunderer is silent, and hesitates; Thetis\nperseveringly clings to his knees. At last he confides to her his dread\nlest a compliance with her petition should involve him in domestic\ndifficulties.\n\n    \u201cSad work thou mak\u2019st, in bidding me oppose\n     My will to Juno\u2019s, when her bitter words\n     Assail me, for full oft amid the gods\n     She taunts me that I aid the Trojan cause.\n     But thou return--_that Juno see thee not_--\n     And leave to me the furtherance of thy suit.\u201d (D.)\n\nHe pledges his promise to her, and ratifies it with the mighty nod that\nshakes Olympus--a solemn confirmation which made his word irrevocable.\n\n    \u201cWaved on th\u2019 immortal head th\u2019 ambrosial locks,\n     And all Olympus trembled at his nod.\u201d\n\nCritics have somewhat over-praised the grandeur of the image; but it is\nsaid that the great sculptor Phidias referred to it as having furnished\nhim with the idea of his noble statue of Olympian Jove. Satisfied with\nher success, Thetis plunges down from high Olympus into the sea, and the\nThunderer proceeds to take his place in full council of the gods, as\ncalm as if nothing had happened. But there are watchful eyes about him\nwhich he has not escaped. Juno has been a witness of the interview, and\nhas a shrewd suspicion of its object. A connubial dialogue ensues,\nwhich, though the poet has thought fit to transfer the scene of it to\nOlympus, is of an exceedingly earthly, and what we should now call\n\u201crealistic,\u201d type. Homer\u2019s recognised translators have not condescended\nto give it the homely tone of the original. Pope is grandiloquent, and\nLord Derby calmly dignified; but Homer intends to be neither. Mr\nGladstone\u2019s translation comes nearest the spirit of the Greek. The\nbrief encounter between the king and queen of the Immortals is cut short\nby the former in rather summary fashion. \u201cThou hast been promising\nhonour to Achilles, I trow,\u201d says Juno.\n\n    \u201cZeus that rolls the clouds of heaven her addressing answered then;\n     \u2018Moonstruck! thou art ever _trowing_; never I escape thy ken.\n     After all, it boots thee nothing; leaves thee of my heart the less:\n     So thou hast the worser bargain. What if I the fact confess?\n     It was done because I willed it. Hold thy peace--my word obey,\n     Lest, if I come near, and on thee these unconquered hands I lay,\n     All the gods that hold Olympus nought avail thee here to-day.\u2019\u201d[12]\n\nHe bids her, in very plain Greek, sit down and hold her tongue; and\ngives her clearly to understand--with a threat of violence which is an\nunusual addition to his many failings as a husband--that it is his fixed\nintention, on this occasion, to be lord and master, not only of Olympus,\nbut of his wife. Juno is silenced, and the whole assembly of the gods is\nstartled by the Thunderer\u2019s violence. Vulcan, the fire-god--the lame\nbrawny hunchback, always more or less the jester and the butt of the\ncourt of Olympus, but with more brains in his head than most of his\nstraight-limbed compeers--Vulcan comes to the general relief. He soothes\nhis royal mother by the argument, that it were ill indeed to break the\npeace of heaven for the sake of two or three wretched mortals: and he\nreminds her--we must suppose in an aside--that they both knew by bitter\nexperience that when the father of gods and men _did_ choose to put\nforth his might, it went hard with all who resisted.\n\n    \u201cWhen to thy succour once before I came,\n     He seized me by the foot, and hurled me down\n     From heaven\u2019s high threshold; all the day I fell,\n     And with the setting sun on Lemnos\u2019 isle\n     Lighted, scarce half-alive; there was I found,\n     And by the Sintian people kindly nursed.\u201d (D.)\n\nHe gives the mother-goddess further comfort--in \u201ca double cup,\u201d which he\nproceeds also to hand round the whole of the august circle. They quaff\ntheir nectar with unusual zest, as they break into peals of laughter (it\nmust be confessed, rather ungratefully) at the hobbling gait and awkward\nattentions of their new cup-bearer:--\n\n    \u201cThus they till sunset passed the festive hours;\n     Nor lacked the banquet aught to please the sense,\n     Nor sound of tuneful lyre by Ph\u0153bus touched,\n     Nor Muses\u2019 voice, who in alternate strains\n     Responsive sung; but when the sun had set\n     Each to his home departed, where for each\n     The crippled Vulcan, matchless architect,\n     With wondrous skill a noble house had reared.\u201d\n\nAnd so, at the end of the first book of the poem, the curtain falls on\nthe Olympian happy family.\n\nBut Jupiter has but a wakeful night. He is planning how he may best\ncarry out his promise to Thetis. He sends a lying spirit in a dream to\nAgamemnon at midnight. The vision stands at the head of the king\u2019s\ncouch, taking the shape of old Nestor. In this character it encourages\nhim to muster all his forces to storm the city of Troy on the morrow.\nNow, at last, the false phantom assures him, its walls are doomed to\nfall; the strife in heaven is ended; Juno\u2019s counsels have prevailed, and\nthe fate of Troy is sealed irrevocably.\n\nJoyfully the King of Men arises from his sleep, and summons at daybreak\na council of the chiefs. Already, says the poet, he storms and sacks the\nroyal city in imagination, little foreseeing the long and bloody\nstruggle that lies yet between him and his prey. In the council he\ninvents a stratagem of his own, which complicates the story considerably\nwithout improving it. He suspects the temper of his army; and before he\nmakes up his mind to lead them to the assault, he seeks to ascertain\nwhether or no the long ten years\u2019 siege has worn out their patience and\nbroken their spirit. He will try the dangerous experiment of proposing\nto them to break up the siege and embark at once for home. He himself\nwill make the proposal to the whole army; the other leaders, for their\npart, are to oppose such a base retreat, and urge their followers to\nmake yet another effort for the national honour of Greece.\n\nThe clans, at the summons of their several chiefs, muster in their\nthousands from tents and ships; and Agamemnon, seated on his throne of\nstate, the immortal sceptre in his hand, harangues them in accordance\nwith his preconcerted stratagem. He paints in lively colours the\nweariness of the nine years\u2019 siege, his own disappointed hopes, the\npainful yearning of their long-deserted wives and children for the\nreturn of their husbands and fathers; and ends by proposing an immediate\nre-embarkation for home. He plays his part only too successfully. The\nimmense host heaves and sways with excitement at his words--\u201clike the\nlong waves of the Icarian Sea, like the deep tall corn-crop as the\nsummer wind sweeps over it\u201d--and with tumultuous shouts of exultation\nthey rush down to their galleys and begin at once to launch them; so\nlittle regard have the multitude for glory, so strong is their yearning\nfor home. It is possible that the poet is no unconscious satirist, and\nthat he willingly allowed his hearers to draw, if they pleased, the\ninference which he hints in more than one passage, that war is the sport\nof princes, for which the masses pay the cost.\n\nBut Juno\u2019s ever-watchful eyes have marked the movement. Again Minerva is\nher messenger, and shoots down from Olympus to stop this disgraceful\nflight. She addresses herself to the ear of the sage Ulysses, who knows\nher voice at once. Wisdom speaks to the wise,--if any reader prefers the\nmoral allegory to the simple fiction. Ulysses is standing fixed in\ndisgust and despair at the cowardice of his countrymen. The goddess bids\nhim use all his eloquence to check their flight. Without a word he\nflings off his cloak,[13] and meeting Agamemnon, receives the immortal\nsceptre from his hand, and armed with this staff of authority rushes\ndown to the galleys. Any king or chieftain whom he encounters he hastily\nreminds of the secret understanding which had been the result of the\nprevious council, and urges them, at least, to set a braver example. To\nthe plebeian crowd he uses argument of another kind. He applies the\nroyal sceptre to them in one of its primitive uses, as a rod of\ncorrection, and bids them wait for orders from their superiors. Easily\nswayed to either course, the crowd are awed into quiet by his energetic\nremonstrances. One popular orator alone lifts his well-known voice\nloudly in defiance. It is a certain Thersites, of whom the poet gives a\nsketch, brief enough, but with so many marks of individuality, that we\nmay be justified in looking at him as a character drawn from life.\n\n    \u201cThe ugliest man was he who came to Troy,\n     With squinting eyes and one distorted foot,\n     His shoulders round, and buried in his breast\n     His narrow head with scanty growth of hair.\u201d\n\nHis talent lies in speaking evil of dignities--a talent which, no doubt,\nhe had found popular enough in some circles of camp society, though all\nthe respectable Greeks, we are assured, are shocked at him. He launches\nout now with bitter virulence--in which there is nevertheless (as in\nmost oratory of the kind) a certain amount of truth--against Agamemnon.\nHe denounces his greed, his selfishness, his disregard of the sufferings\nof his troops, his late treatment of Achilles; they must all be cowards,\nhe says, to obey such a leader--\n\n    \u201cWomen of Greece! I will not call ye men!\u201d\n\nWhy not sail home at once, and leave him, if he can, to take Troy with\nhis own single hand?\n\nThe mutineer speaks in an evil hour for himself, this time; for Ulysses\nhears him. That energetic chief answers him in terms as strong as his\nown, and warns him that if he should catch him again railing in like\nfashion--\u201ctaking the name of kings in his abusive mouth\u201d--he will strip\nhis garments from him, and flog him naked back to the ships. And, as an\nearnest of his promise, he lays the mighty sceptre heavily on his back\nand shoulders. Such prompt and vigorous chastisement meets the popular\nhumour at once; and as the hunchback writhes and howls under the blows,\nthe fickle feelings of the Greeks break forth in peals of laughter. \u201cOf\nthe many good things Ulysses has done, this last,\u201d they swear, \u201cis the\nbest of all.\u201d\n\nThen, prompted still by the goddess of Wisdom, Ulysses harangues the\nreassembled troops. He reminds them of their plighted oath of service to\nAgamemnon, of the encouraging oracles of heaven, of the disgrace of\nreturning home from an unaccomplished errand. With the art of a true\norator, he sympathises with their late feelings--it _is_ bitter for them\nall, indeed, to waste so many years on a foreign shore, far from home,\nand wife, and children; but bitterest of all would it be\n\n    \u201cLong to remain, and bootless to return.\u201d\n\nThe venerable Nestor speaks to the same effect; and Agamemnon himself\ncloses the debate with a call to immediate battle. It is a right royal\nspeech, far more worthy of a true \u201cking of men\u201d than his former\nphilippics--moderate in his allusion to Achilles, spirited in his appeal\nto his warriors.\n\n       \u201cCome but new friendship, and our feud destroy,\n        Then from the evil that is fixed and sealed\n        Not one day\u2019s respite shall be left to Troy--\n        But now to dinner, ere we take the field;\n        Let each his spear whet, and prepare his shield,\n        Feed well the horses, and each chariot test,\n        That we may fight it out till one side yield,\n        Fight in sound harness, and not think of rest,\n    Till the black night decide it as to Zeus seems best.\n\n       \u201cThen shall the horses in their foam be wet,\n        While forward in the glittering car they strain;\n        Then shall the straps of the broad buckler sweat\n        Round many a breast there battling in the plain;\n        Then shall the arm droop, hurling spears with pain:\n        And whomsoever I behold at lair\n        Here by the ships, and for the fight not fain,\n        Small for that skulker is the hope, I swear,\n    But that the dogs he fatten and the fowls of air.\u201d (W.)\n\nHe remembers, too, like a wise general, that a battle may be lost by\nfighting on an empty stomach. So the oxen and the fatlings are slain,\nthe choice pieces of the thighs and the fat are offered in sacrifice to\nthe gods, and then the whole army feasts their fill. Agamemnon holds a\nselect banquet of six of the chief leaders--King Idomeneus of Crete,\nNestor, Ajax the Greater and the Less, and Ulysses, \u201cwise in council as\nZeus.\u201d One guest comes uninvited--his brother Menelaus. He is no\ndinner-loving intruder; he comes, as the poet simply tells us, \u201cbecause\nhe knew in his heart how many were his brother\u2019s cares and\nanxieties,\u201d--he might be of some use or support to him. Throughout the\nwhole of the poem, the mutual affection borne by these two brothers is\nvery remarkable, and unlike any type of the same relationship which\nexists in fiction. It is never put forward or specially dwelt upon, but\ncomes out simply and naturally in every particular of their intercourse.\n\nA king and priest, like Abraham at Bethel, Agamemnon stands by his\nburnt-offering, and lifts his prayer for victory to Jupiter, \u201cmost\nglorious and most great, who dwells in the clouds and thick darkness.\u201d\nBut no favourable omen comes from heaven. The god, whether or no he\naccepts the offering, gives no sign. Nevertheless--we may suppose with a\ncertain wilfulness which is part of his character--Agamemnon proceeds to\nset the battle in array; and the second book of the Iliad closes with\nthe long muster-roll of the Greek clans under their respective kings or\nchiefs on the one side, and of the Trojans and their allies on the\nother, which in our introduction has already been partly\nanticipated.[14] The long list of chiefs, with their genealogies and\nbirthplaces, and the strength of their several contingents, was\nevidently composed with a view to recitation: and whatever may be its\nvalue as an authentic record, we can understand the interest with which\na Greek audience would listen to a muster-roll which was to them what\nthe Roll of Battle Abbey was to the descendants of the Normans in\nEngland. If here and there, upon occasion, the wandering minstrel\ninserted in the text the name and lineage of some provincial hero on his\nown responsibility, the popular applause would assuredly be none the\nless.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nTHE DUEL OF PARIS AND MENELAUS.\n\n\nThe battle is set in array, \u201carmy against army.\u201d But there is a\ndifference in the bearing of the opposed forces which is very\nsignificant, and is probably a note of real character, not a mere stroke\nof the poet\u2019s art. The Trojan host, after the fashion of Asiatic\nwarfare, modern as well as ancient, move forward to the combat with loud\nshouts and clashing of weapons. The poet compares their confused clamour\nto the noise of a flock of cranes on their annual migration. The Greeks,\non the other hand, march in silence, with closed ranks, uttering no\nsound, but \u201cbreathing determination.\u201d So, when afterwards they actually\nclose for action, not a sound is heard in their ranks but the voice of\nthe leaders giving the word of command. \u201cYou would not think,\u201d says the\npoet, \u201cthat all that mighty host had tongues;\u201d while, in the mixed\nbattalions of the enemy, whose allies are men of many lands and\nlanguages, there arises a noisy discordant clamour--\u201clike as of bleating\newes that hear the cries of their lambs.\u201d\n\nBut while the hostile forces yet await the signal for the battle, Paris\nsprings forth alone from the Trojan ranks. \u201cGodlike\u201d he is in his\nbeauty, and with the leve of personal adornment which befits his\ncharacter, he wears a spotted leopard\u2019s hide upon his shoulders.\nTennyson\u2019s portrait of him, though in a different scene, is thoroughly\nHomeric--\n\n                  \u201cWhite-breasted like a star,\n    Fronting the dawn he moved; a leopard\u2019s skin\n    Drooped from his shoulder, but his sunny hair\n    Clustered about his temples like a god\u2019s.\u201d\n\nAdvancing with long strides in the space between the armies, he\nchallenges the leaders of the Greeks, one and all, to meet him singly in\nmortal combat. Menelaus hears the boast. \u201cLike a hungry lion springing\non his prey,\u201d he leaps full-armed from his chariot, exulting in the\nthought that now at last his personal vengeance shall be gratified. But\nconscience makes a coward of Paris. He starts back--\u201cas a man that sees\na serpent in his path\u201d--the godlike visage grows pale, the knees\ntremble, and the Trojan champion draws back under the shelter of his\nfriends from the gallant hero whom he has so bitterly wronged. The Roman\nhistorian Livy--a poet in prose--had surely this passage in his mind\nwhen he described Sextus Tarquinius, the dishonourer of Lucretia,\nquailing, as no Roman of his blood and rank would otherwise have\nquailed, when young Valerius dashes out from the Roman lines to engage\nhim. The moral teaching of the heathen poet on such points is far higher\nthan that of the medieval romancers with whom he has so many points in\ncommon. Sir Tristram of Lyonnois has no such scruples of conscience in\nmeeting King Mark. Lancelot, indeed, will not fight with Arthur; but the\nvery nobility of character with which the unknown author of that\nstriking impersonation has endowed him is in itself the highest of all\nwrongs against morality, in that it steals the reader\u2019s sympathies for\nthe wrong-doer instead of for the injured husband. Shakespeare, as is\nhis wont, strikes the higher key. It is the consciousness of guilt which\nmakes Macbeth half quail before Macduff--\n\n    \u201cOf all men else have I avoided thee:\n     But get thee back--my soul is too much charged\n     With blood of thine already.\n     ...I will not fight with thee.\u201d\n\nParis withdraws into the Trojan ranks, and there encounters Hector. As\nhas been already said, the poet assumes at the outset, on the part of\nhis audience, at least such knowledge of his _dramatis person\u00e6_ as to\nmake a formal introduction unnecessary. Hector is the noblest of all the\nsons of Priam, the shield and bulwark of his countrymen throughout the\nlong years of the war. Achilles is the hero of the Iliad, and to him\nHomer assigns the palm of strength and valour; but, as is not seldom the\ncase in fiction, the author has painted the rival hero so well that our\nsympathies are at least as frequently found on his side. We almost share\nJuno\u2019s feelings against the Trojans when they are represented by Paris;\nbut when Hector comes into the field, our hearts half go over to the\nenemy. His character will be touched upon more fully hereafter: for the\npresent, it must discover itself in the course of the story. He throws\nhimself in the way of Paris in his cowardly retreat; and in spite of the\nfraternal feeling which is so remarkably strong amongst Homer\u2019s\nheroes,--in Hector and his brothers almost as much as in Agamemnon and\nMenelaus,--shame and disgust at his present poltroonery now mingle\nthemselves with a righteous hatred of the selfish lust which has\nplunged his country into a bloody war--\n\n       \u201cWas it for this, or with such heart as now,\n        O\u2019er the wide billows with a chosen band\n        Thou sailedst, and with violated vow\n        Didst bring thy fair wife from the Apian strand,\n        Torn from the house of men of warlike hand,\n        And a great sorrow for thy father\u2019s head,\n        Troy town, and all the people of the land,\n        By thine inhospitable offence hast bred,\n    Thus for the enemy\u2019s sport, thine own confusion dread?\n\n       \u201cLo, now thou cowerest, and wilt not abide\n        Fierce Menelaus--thou hadst known, I ween,\n        Soon of what man thou hast the blooming bride!\n        Poor had the profit of thy harp then been,\n        Vain Aphrodite\u2019s gifts, thy hair, thy mien,\n        He mangling in the dust thy fallen brow.\n        But there is no wrong to the Trojans keen,\n        And they are lambs in Spirit; or else hadst thou\n    Worn, for thine evil works, a cloke of stone ere now.\u201d W.\n\nParis has the grace to admit the justice of his brother\u2019s rebuke.\nHector, he confesses, is far the better soldier; only he pleads, with a\nself-complacency which he never loses, that grace of person, and a\nsmooth tongue, and a taste for music, are nothing less than the gifts of\nthe gods--that, in fact, it is not his fault that he is so irresistible.\nHe ends, however, with an offer which is far more to Hector\u2019s mind. Let\nopen lists be pitched in sight of both armies, and he will engage\nMenelaus in single combat; Helen and her wealth shall be the prize of\nvictory.\n\nIt is a proposal at which Hector\u2019s heart rejoices. He checks at once the\nadvancing line of the Trojans, and steps out himself to the front. The\nGreeks bend their bows at him, but Agamemnon understands his motions,\nand bids them hold their hands. It is a fair challenge which the Trojan\nprince comes to make on behalf of Paris. Menelaus accepts it, in a few\nplain and gallant words--he is no orator:--\n\n    \u201cHear now my answer; in this quarrel I\n     May claim the chiefest share; and now I hope\n     Trojans and Greeks may see the final close\n     Of all the labours ye so long have borne,\n     T\u2019 avenge my wrong at Paris\u2019 hand sustained.\n     And of us two whiche\u2019er is doomed to death,\n     So let him die! the rest depart in peace.\u201d (D.)\n\nA truce is agreed upon, to abide the result of this appeal of battle. A\nmessenger from Olympus--Iris, goddess of the Rainbow--comes to warn\nHelen of the impending duel. And this introduces one of the most\nbeautiful passages in the whole Iliad, to modern taste. Its sentiment\nand pathos are perfectly level and quiet; but as a natural and life-like\nyet highly-wrought portrait of a scene in what we may call the social\ndrama, it stands almost without equal or parallel in classical\nliterature.\n\nHelen--the fatal cause of the war, the object of such violent passions\nand such bitter taunts--is sitting pensively in the palace of her royal\nfather-in-law, writing her own miserable story. She is writing it--not\nin a three-volumed novel, as a lady who had a private history, more or\nless creditable, would write it now, but--in a golden tapestry, in which\nmore laborious form it was in those days not unfrequent to write\nsensational biographies. Iris urges her to be present at the show. The\nwhole reads like the tale of some medieval tournament, except that Helen\nherself is the prize of victory as well as the Queen of Beauty. Attended\nby her maidens, she goes down to the place where the aged Priam, like\nthe kings of the Old Testament history, \u201csits in the gate\u201d surrounded\nby the elders of his city. It is the \u201cSc\u00e6an,\u201d or \u201cleft-hand\u201d gate, which\nopens towards the camp of the enemy, and commands a view of their lines.\nWe have had no word as yet of the marvellous beauty of Helen. There is\nno attempt to describe it throughout the whole of the poem. But here, in\na few masterly touches, introduced in the simplest and most natural\nmanner, Homer does more than describe it, when he tells us its effects.\nThe old men break off their talk as the beautiful stranger draws near.\nThey had seen her often enough before; the fatal face and form must have\nbeen well known in the streets and palaces of Troy, however retired a\nlife Helen might well have thought it becoming in her unhappy position\nto lead. But the fair vision comes upon their eyes with a new and\never-increasing enchantment. They say each to the other as they look\nupon her, \u201cIt is no blame to Greeks or Trojans to fight for such a\nwoman--she is worth all the ten years of war; still, let her embark and\ngo home, lest we and our children suffer more for her.\u201d Even the\nearliest critics, when the finer shades of criticism were little\nunderstood, were forcibly struck with the art of the poet in selecting\nhis witnesses for the defence. The Roman Quintilian had said nearly all\nthat modern taste has since confirmed. He bids the reader mark who gives\nthis testimony to Helen\u2019s charms. Not the infatuated Paris, who has set\nhis own honour and his country\u2019s welfare at nought for the sake of an\nunlawful passion; not some young Trojan, who might naturally be ready to\nvow \u201cthe world well lost\u201d for such a woman; nor yet any of the vulgar\ncrowd, easily impressed, and always extravagant in its praise or blame;\nbut these grave and reverend seniors, men of cold passions and calm\njudgment, fathers whose sons were fighting and falling for this woman\u2019s\nsake, and even Priam himself, whose very crown and kingdom she had\nbrought in deadly peril. He receives her, as she draws near, with gentle\ncourtesy. Plainly, in his estimation, her unhappy position does not\ninvolve necessarily shame or disgrace. This opens one of the difficult\nquestions of the moral doctrine of the Iliad, which can only be\nunderstood by bearing in mind the supernatural machinery of the poem. To\nthe modern reader, the character of Helen, and the light in which she is\nregarded alike by Greeks and Trojans, present an anomaly in morals which\nis highly unsatisfactory. It is not as if Homer, like the worst writers\nof the Italian school, set marriage vows at nought, and made a jest of\nunchastity. Far otherwise; the heathen bard on such points took an\ninfinitely higher tone than many so-called Christian poets. The\ndifficulty lies in the fact that throughout the poem, while the crime is\nreprobated, the criminal meets with forbearance, and even sympathy. Our\nfirst natural impulse with regard to Helen is to look upon her much in\nthe light in which she herself, in one of her bitter confessions, says\nshe is looked upon by the mass of the Trojans:--\n\n    \u201cThroughout wide Troy I see no friendly eye,\n     And Trojans shudder as I pass them by.\u201d\n\nBut this feeling, we must remember, arose much more from her being the\ncause of all the miseries of the siege, than from her having left her\nGreek husband. Priam and Hector--who have certainly not a lower\nmorality, and a higher nobility and unselfishness, than the mass of\ntheir countrymen--show no such feeling against her; on the contrary,\nthey treat her with scrupulous delicacy and consideration. So also the\nleaders of the Greek forces betray no consciousness that they are\nfighting, after all, for a worthless woman; rather, she is a prize to be\nreclaimed, and Menelaus himself is ready from the first to receive her\nback again. How is this? Some have understood the poet to represent her\nabduction from her home to have been forcible--that she was carried off\nby Paris entirely against her will; but even allowing this (which is not\nconsistent with many passages in the poem), it would not excuse or\npalliate her voluntary acceptance of such a degraded position throughout\nthe subsequent story. The real explanation is given in a few words by\nPriam in the scene before us.\n\n                \u201cNot thee I blame,\n    But to the gods I owe this woful war.\u201d\n\nIn Homer\u2019s sight, as in Priam\u2019s, she is the victim of Venus. She is \u201cthe\nvictim of passion,\u201d only in a more literal and personal sense than we\nuse the expression. Love, lawful or unlawful, was a divine--that is, a\nsupernatural--force, to the mind of the poet. The spells of Venus are\nirresistible: that fatal gift of beauty is the right by which the\ngoddess takes possession of her, and leads her captive at her evil will.\nHelen herself feels her own degradation far more deeply, in fact, than\nany one else seems to feel it; no one uses any expressions about her\nhalf so bitter as those which she applies to herself; \u201cshameless,\u201d\n\u201cbringer of sorrow,\u201d \u201cwhose name shall be a by-word and a reproach,\u201d are\nthe terms she uses--\n\n    \u201cOh that the day my mother gave me birth,\n     Some storm had on the mountains cast me forth!\u201d\n\nWe must judge Homer\u2019s characters with reference to the light of his\nreligious creed--if creed it were--or at least with reference to the\nsupernatural element employed in the Iliad. We shall be safe, then, in\nseeing Helen through Homer\u2019s eyes. We separate her unconsciously, as he\ndoes, from her fault. Look upon that as the poet does, as she does\nherself, as Priam and Hector and Menelaus do, as her fate, her\nmisfortune, the weird that she has been doomed to dree,--and then, what\na graceful womanly character remains! Gentle and daughterlike to the\naged Priam, humble and tearful in the presence of her noble and generous\nbrother-in-law Hector, as disdainful as she dares to be to her ignoble\nlord and lover,--tender, respectful, regretful, towards the gallant\nhusband she has deserted.\n\nSo she comes in all her grace and beauty, and takes her seat by the old\nKing\u2019s side upon the watch-tower, looking out upon the camp of the\nGreeks. He bids her tell him the names of such of the kings and chiefs\nas she can recognise. One there is who seems indeed a \u201cking of men,\u201d by\nthe grace of nature. There are taller warriors in the host; but none of\nsuch majestic mien and right royal bearing. It is, indeed, Agamemnon the\nson of Atreus, as Helen informs him,--\n\n    \u201cWide-reigning, mighty monarch, ruler good,\n     And valiant warrior; in my husband\u2019s name,\n     Lost as I am, I called him brother once.\u201d\n\nAnother chief attracts Priam\u2019s attention, as he strides along in front\nof the lines. Less in stature than Agamemnon, he is broader in the chest\nand shoulders. Helen knows him well. It is Ulysses, son of Laertes,\n\u201cthe man of many wiles;\u201d nursed among the rugged cliffs of his island\nkingdom of Ithaca, but already a traveller well versed in the ways of\nmen, the stratagems of war, and the counsels of princes. He is\nrecognised, too, now that Helen names him, by some of the Trojan elders;\nfor he, it must be remembered (and Homer assumes that we know it), had\naccompanied Menelaus in the embassy to demand Helen\u2019s restitution. Old\nAntenor, now sitting by Priam\u2019s side, well remembers the remarkable\nstranger, whom he had lodged and entertained as a public guest. The\npicture he draws of him is one of the most graphic and individual of all\nHomer\u2019s characters.\n\n    \u201cFor hither when on thine account to treat,\n     Brave Menelaus and Ulysses came,\n     I lodged them in my house, and loved them both,\n     And studied well the form and mind of each.\n     As they with Trojans mixed in social guise,\n     When both were standing, o\u2019er his comrade high\n     With broad-set shoulders Menelaus stood:\n     Seated, Ulysses was the nobler form:\n     Then, in the great assembly, when to all\n     Their public speech and argument they framed,\n     In fluent language Menelaus spoke,\n     In words though few, yet clear; though young in years,\n     No wordy babbler, wasteful of his speech:\n     But when the skilled Ulysses rose to speak,\n     With downcast visage would he stand, his eyes\n     Bent on the ground; the staff he bore, nor back\n     He waved, nor forward, but like one untaught,\n     He held it motionless; who only saw,\n     Would say that he was mad, or void of sense:\n     But when his chest its deep-toned voice sent forth,\n     With words that fell like flakes of wintry snow,\n     No mortal with Ulysses could compare;\n     Then, little recked we of his outward show.\u201d (D.)\n\nA third hero catches the eye of the Trojan king, as well he may--a\nleader like Saul, \u201ctaller by the head and shoulders than the rest\nof the people\u201d--and he asks Helen to name him also. This is Ajax of\nCrete, son of Telamon, a giant chieftain, \u201cthe bulwark of the Greeks,\u201d\nrepresented here in the Iliad as easy-tempered and somewhat heavy, as\nit is the wont of giants to be, degraded by medieval and modern poets\ninto a mere bulk without brains. \u201cMars\u2019 idiot,\u201d Shakespeare calls him,\n\u201cwho has not so much wit as would stop the eye of Helen\u2019s needle.\u201d\nShirley, in his \u2018Ajax and Ulysses,\u2019 carries out the same popular\nnotion:--\n\n    \u201cAnd now I look on Ajax Telamon,\n     I may compare him to some spacious building;\n     His body holds vast rooms of entertainment,\n     And lower parts maintain the offices;\n     Only the garret, his exalted head,\n     Useless for wise receipt, is filled with lumber.\u201d\n\nBy the side of Ajax Helen also marks King Idomeneus of Crete, a frequent\nguest in the palace of Menelaus in happier times; for the court of\nSparta, as will be seen hereafter in the Odyssey, was in these heroic\ndays a centre of civilisation and refinement. Two chiefs Helen\u2019s anxious\neyes vainly try to discern amongst the crowd of her countrymen,--\n\n    \u201cMy own two brethren, and my mother\u2019s sons,\n     Castor and Pollux; Castor, horseman bold,\n     Pollux, unmatched in pugilistic skill;\n     In Laced\u00e6mon have they stayed behind?\n     Or can it be, in ocean-going ships\n     That they have come indeed, but shame to join\n     The fight of warriors, fearful of the shame\n     And deep disgrace that on my name attend?\u201d (D.)\n\nHelen\u2019s self-reproachful surmises have not reached the truth. The \u201cGreat\nTwin Brethren,\u201d who had once already (so the ancient legend said)\nrescued their beautiful sister in her girlhood from the hands of\nTheseus, who had been amongst the mighty hunters of the Calydonian boar,\nand had formed part of the adventurous crew of the Argo, had finished\ntheir mortal warfare years before in a raid in Messenia; but to reappear\nas demigods in Greek and Roman legend,--the spirit horsemen who rallied\nthe Roman line in the great fight with the Latins at the Lake Regillus,\nthe \u201cshining stars\u201d who lighted the sailors on the stormy Adriatic, and\ngave their names to the ship in which St Paul was cast away.\n\n    \u201cBack comes the chief in triumph,\n       Who, in the hour of fight,\n     Hath seen the Great Twin Brethren\n       In harness on his right.\n     Safe comes the ship to harbour,\n       Through billows and through gales,\n     If once the Great Twin Brethren\n       Sit shining on the sails.\u201d[15]\n\nThis picturesque dialogue between Priam and his fascinating guest is\ninterrupted far too soon for the reader\u2019s complete enjoyment--somewhat\ntoo abruptly, indeed, for its perfection. One would like to have heard\nHelen\u2019s estimate of the other leaders of the Greeks; of Diomed, of the\nlesser Ajax, of Nestor, of Mnestheus the Athenian; and it is hardly\npossible not to fancy that the scene has been left by the poet\nincomplete, or that some portion has been lost past recovery. The\ntragedian \u00c6schylus, who was full of the true Homeric spirit, carried out\nthe idea to what seems its natural completion in a remarkable scene of\n\u2018The Seven Chiefs against Thebes,\u2019 to which we may hope to introduce\nour readers more fully hereafter. Euripides, in his \u2018Ph\u0153niss\u00e6,\u2019 adopts\nthe very same machinery; and Tasso has also imitated the scene in his\n\u2018Jerusalem Delivered,\u2019[16] where he brings Erminia on the walls,\npointing out to King Aladine the persons of the most renowned of the\nbesieging knights.\n\nThe interruption is as little satisfactory to Priam as to the reader. A\nherald summons the king of Troy to a conference in the mid-space between\nthe city walls and the enemy\u2019s leaguer, in order to ratify the\narmistice, while Paris and Menelaus decide their quarrel in single\ncombat. The old man mounts his chariot, \u201cshuddering,\u201d as foreboding the\ndefeat and death of his son. Agamemnon and Ulysses on the one side,\nPriam and Antenor on the other, duly slay the sacrificial lambs, and\nmake joint appeal to Jupiter, the Avenger of oaths, pouring the red wine\nupon the earth with solemn imprecation, that so may flow forth the\nheart\u2019s blood of him who on either part shall break the truce. And the\ngod listens as before, but does not accept the appeal. Priam withdraws,\nfor he cannot bear to be a spectator of his son\u2019s peril. Hector and\nUlysses, precisely in the fashion of the marshals in the tournaments of\nchivalry, measure out the lists; the rest of the Greeks lie down on the\nground beside their horses and chariots, while the lots are cast which\nshall first throw the spear. The chance falls to Paris. He throws, and\nstrikes full and fair in the centre of Menelaus\u2019 round shield. But the\nseasoned bull\u2019s hide turns the point, and it does not penetrate. Next\ncomes the turn of Menelaus. Paris has ventured no appeal to heaven; but\nthe Greek king lifts his voice in prayer to Jupiter for vengeance on\nthe traitor who has so abused his hospitality, before he poises his long\nlance carefully and hurls it at his enemy. Right through shield,\nbreastplate, and linen vest goes the good Greek weapon; but Paris leans\nback to avoid it, and it only grazes him. Menelaus rushes forward, sword\nin hand, and smites a downright blow on Paris\u2019 crest. But the Trojan\nhelmet proves of better quality than the shield, and the Greek blade\nflies in shivers. Maddened by his double failure, he rushes on his\nenemy, and seizing him by the horse-hair crest, drags him off by main\nstrength towards the ranks of the Greeks. But in this extremity the\ngoddess of love comes to the rescue of her favourite. At her touch the\ntough bullhide strap of Paris\u2019 head-piece, which was all but choking\nhim, breaks, and leaves the empty helmet in the hands of Menelaus. He\nhurls it amongst his comrades in disappointment and disgust, and rushes\nonce more in pursuit of Paris. But Venus has wrapt him in a mist, and\ncarried him off; and while the son of Atreus rushes like a baffled lion\nup and down the lists in quest of him, while even the Trojans are aiding\nin the search, and no man among them would have hidden him--for \u201cthey\nall hated him like black death\u201d--he is safely laid by the goddess in\nHelen\u2019s chamber. The scene in which she receives him is, like all the\nrest of her story, a beautiful contradiction. Her first greeting is\nbitter enough. Either her heart has been indeed with Menelaus in the\nfight--or at least she would have had her present husband come back from\nthe field, dead or alive, in some more honourable fashion--\n\n    \u201cBack from the battle? Would thou there hadst died\n     Beneath a warrior\u2019s arm whom once I called\n     My husband! Vainly didst thou boast erewhile\n     Thine arm, thy dauntless courage, and thy spear,\n     The warlike Menelaus should subdue!\n     Go now again, and challenge to the fight\n     The warlike Menelaus.--Be thou ware!\n     I warn thee, pause, ere madly thou presume\n     With fair-haired Menelaus to contend!\u201d (D.)\n\nBrave words! but still, as of old, the fatal spells of Venus are upon\nher, and Paris\u2019 misadventure in the lists is all too soon condoned.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTHE BROKEN TRUCE.\n\n\nThe Greeks claim the victory--reasonably, since the Trojan champion has\nfled the lists; but again the intrigues of the court of Olympus\ninterfere to interrupt the course of mortal justice. The gods of Homer\nare not the gods of Epicurus\u2019 creed, who, as our English poet sings,\n\u201clie beside their nectar, careless of mankind.\u201d They are anything but\ncareless, so far as the affairs of mortals are concerned; but their\ninterference is regulated by the most selfish motives. Men are the\npuppets whom they make to dance for their gratification--the counters\nwith which they play their Olympian game, and try to defeat and\ncheckmate each other. Even the respect which they pay to the mortal who\nis regular in the matter of offering sacrifices is entirely selfish--it\nseems to be merely the sensual appetite for fat roasts and rich savours.\nThey are commonly influenced by jealousy, pique, revenge, or\nfavouritism; and where they do punish the wrongdoer, it is far more\noften from a sense of _l\u00e8se-majest\u00e9_--a slight offered to some cause\nwhich is under their special protection--than from any moral indignation\nat wrong itself. When the scene opens in the fourth book of the poem,\nit seems to pass at once from serious melodrama to broad comedy; and but\nthat these dwellers in Olympus really rule the fortunes of the tale, it\nwould be scarcely possible not to believe that the poet so intended it.\n\nWe are introduced again, then, to Olympus; and, as before, to a quarrel\namong the Immortals. It is Jove this time who is the aggressor. He has\nseen the result of the combat, and taunts Juno with the double patronage\nextended to the Greeks by herself and Minerva--which, after all, has\nfailed--while Venus, more active and energetic, has rescued her\nfavourite. However, he awards the victory to Menelaus; and suggests, as\na solution to all disputes and difficulties, that now Helen should be\ngiven up, the Greeks go home, and so the fate of Troy be averted. At the\nthought of her enemy thus escaping, the queen of the gods cannot contain\nher rage. Jupiter gives way. He loves Troy much, but domestic peace and\nquietness more. He warns his queen, however, that if he now consents to\ngive up Troy to her insatiable revenge, she shall not stand in his way\nhereafter, in case some community of mortals who may be her especial\nfavourites shall incur his royal displeasure. And Juno, with that utter\nindifference to human suffering, or human justice, which characterises\nthe deities of Olympus, makes answer in these words:--\n\n    \u201cThree cities there are dearest to my heart;\n     Argos, and Sparta, and the ample streets\n     Of rich Mycen\u00e6; work on them thy will--\n     Destroy them, if thine anger they incur--\n     I will not interpose nor hinder thee.\u201d\n\nIn furtherance of this strange compact, Minerva is once more sent down\nto the plains of Troy. Her mission now is to incite the Trojans to break\nthe truce by some overt act, and thus not only renew the war, but put\nthemselves plainly in the wrong. Clothing herself in the human shape of\nthe son of old Antenor, she mingles in the Trojan ranks, and addresses\nherself to the cunning bowman Pandarus. His character in the Iliad has\nnothing in common with the \u201cSir Pandarus of Troy,\u201d whose name, as the\nbase uncle of Cressida, has passed into an unwholesome by-word, and whom\nLydgate, Chaucer, and, lastly, Shakespeare, borrowed from the medieval\nromancers. Here he is but an archer of known skill, somewhat given to\ndisplay, with his bow of polished ibex-horns tipped with gold, and vain\nof his reputation, whom the goddess easily tempts to end the long war at\nonce by a timely shot, and win immortal renown by taking off Menelaus.\nWith a brief prayer and a vow of a hecatomb to Apollo, the god of the\nbow--who is supposed to be as ready as the rest of the immortals to abet\nan act of treachery on such conditions--Pandarus ensconces himself\nbehind the shields of his comrades, and choosing out his arrow with the\nsame care which we read of in the great exploits of more modern bowmen,\nhe discharges it point-blank at the unsuspecting Menelaus. The shaft\nflies true enough, but Minerva is at hand to avert the actual peril from\nthe Greek hero: she turns the arrow aside--\n\n    \u201cAs when a mother from her infant\u2019s cheek,\n     Wrapt in sweet slumbers, brushes off a fly.\u201d\n\nIt is a pretty simile; but the result is not so entirely harmless. The\narrow strikes in the belt, and so meets the double resistance of belt\nand corslet. It draws blood, nevertheless, in a stream; and both\nMenelaus and Agamemnon at first fear that the wound is mortal;--\n\n    \u201cGreat Agamemnon shuddered as he saw\n     The crimson blood-drops issuing from the wound,\n     Shuddered the warlike Menelaus\u2019 self;\n     But when the sinew and the arrow-head\n     He saw projecting, back his spirit came.\n     Then, deeply groaning, Agamemnon spoke,\n     As Menelaus by the hand he held,\n     And with him groaned his comrades; \u2018Brother dear,\n     Fatal to thee hath been the oath I swore,\n     When thou stoodst forth alone for Greece to fight;\n     Wounded by Trojans, who their plighted troth\n     Have trodden under foot.\u2019\u201d (D.)\n\nTwo points are remarkable in this passage: first, the tenderness which\nAgamemnon shows towards his younger brother, even to the point of\nself-reproach at having allowed him to fight Paris at all, though in a\nquarrel which was so thoroughly his own. His expressions of grief and\nremorse at the thought of going home to Greece without him (which run to\nconsiderable length), though somewhat tinged with selfishness, inasmuch\nas he feels his own honour at stake, are much more like the feeling of a\nparent than of an elder brother. Again, the picture of Menelaus\n\u201cshuddering\u201d at his own wound--so sensitive to the dread of death that\nhe apparently all but faints, until he is reassured by finding that the\nbarb of the arrow has not really penetrated--is utterly inconsistent\nwith our English notions of a hero. We have to bear in mind, here and\nelsewhere, that these Greek heroes, of whatever race we are to suppose\nthem to be, are of an entirely different temperament to us cold and\nself-restrained northerns. They are highly sensitive to bodily pain,\nvery much given to groans and tears, and very much afraid of death for\nthemselves, however indifferent to human life in the case of others.\nDeath, to these sensuous Greeks, was an object of dread and aversion,\nchiefly because it implied to their minds something like annihilation.\nHowever vivid in some passages of their poets is the description of\nthose happy Elysian fields where the souls of heroes dwelt, the popular\nbelief gave to the disembodied spirit but a shadowy and colourless\nexistence.\n\nThe wound is soon stanched by the aid of the skilful leech Machaon, son\nof \u00c6sculapius (and therefore grandson of Apollo \u201cthe Healer\u201d), but who\nis a warrior and chieftain as well as the rest, though he has placed his\nskill at the service of Agamemnon. The King of Men himself, as soon as\nhis brother\u2019s hurt is tended, rushes along the lines, rousing chiefs and\nclansmen to avenge the treachery of the enemy. Idomeneus of Crete, Ajax\nthe Greater and the Less, Mnestheus of Athens, Ulysses, Diomed--to all\nin turn he makes his passionate appeal; to some, in language which they\nare inclined to resent, as implying that they were disinclined for the\ncombat. Diomed and Sthenelus he even reminds of the brave deeds of their\nfathers Tydeus and Capaneus in the great siege of Thebes, and stings\nthem with the taunt, that the sons will never win the like renown.\nDiomed hears in silence; but the son of Capaneus inherits, with all the\nbravery, something of the insolence of the chief who swore that \u201cwith or\nwithout the gods\u201d he would burn Thebes: he answers the great king in\nwords which have yet a certain nobility in their self-assertion--\n\n   \u201cAtrides, lie not, when thou know\u2019st the truth;\n    We hold ourselves far better than our sires;\n    We took the strength of seven-gated Thebes,\n    Though with a smaller host we stormed her towers,\n    Strong in heaven\u2019s omens and the help of Jove;\n    For them--their own presumption was their fall.\u201d\n\nAll the leaders of the Greeks eagerly marshal their forces at the King\u2019s\ncall. Nestor\u2019s experienced counsel orders the line of battle--so well,\nthat subsequent commanders were fain to take a lesson from it.\n\n   \u201cIn the front rank, with chariot and with horse,\n    He placed the mounted warriors; in the rear,\n    Num\u2019rous and brave, a cloud of infantry,\n    Compactly massed, to stem the tide of war.\n    Between the two he placed th\u2019 inferior troops,\n    That e\u2019en against their will they needs must fight.\n    The horsemen first he charged, and bade them keep\n    Their horses well in hand, nor wildly rush\n    Amid the tumult: \u2018See,\u2019 he said, \u2018that none,\n    In skill or valour over-confident,\n    Advance before his comrades, nor alone\n    Retire; for so your lines were easier forced;\n    But ranging each beside a hostile car,\n    Thrust with your spears; for such the better way;\n    By men so disciplined, in elder days,\n    Were lofty walls and fenc\u00e8d towers destroyed.\u2019\u201d (D.)\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nTHE FIRST DAY\u2019S BATTLE.\n\n\nAs before, while the Greek line advances in perfect silence, the Trojans\nmake their onset with loud shouts and a clamour of discordant war-cries\nin many tongues. Mars animates the Trojans, Minerva the Greeks; while\nFear and Panic hover over the two armies, and Strife--whom the poet\ndescribes in words which are the very echo of Solomon\u2019s proverb--\u201cThe\nbeginning of strife is as when one letteth out water\u201d--\n\n   \u201cWith humble crest at first, anon her head,\n    While yet she treads the earth, affronts the skies.\u201d\n\nThe two armies close in battle, only embittered by the broken truce. The\ndescription is a good specimen of the poet\u2019s powers, and Lord Derby\u2019s\ntranslation is sufficiently close:--\n\n   \u201cThen rose the mingled shouts and groans of men\n    Slaying and slain; the earth ran red with blood.\n    As when descending from the mountain\u2019s brow\n    Two wintry torrents from their copious source\n    Pour downwards to the narrow pass, where meet\n    Their mingled waters in some deep ravine,\n    Their weight of flood, on the far mountain\u2019s side\n    The shepherd hears the roar; so loud arose\n    The shouts and yells of those commingling hosts.\u201d[17]\n\nThen begins one of those remarkable descriptions of a series of single\ncombats between warriors of note on either side, in which Homer delights\nand excels. It must be confessed that they are somewhat wearisome to a\nmodern reader; although, as has been well observed, the details of\nattack and defence, wounds and death, are varied in a fashion which\nshows that the artist was thoroughly master of his work; and it is even\nsaid that in the physical results assigned to each particular wound he\nhas shown no mean knowledge of anatomy. Still, the continuous catalogue\nof ghastly wounds and dying agonies is uncongenial with our more refined\nsympathies. But it was quite in harmony with the tastes of ruder days.\nWe find the same apparent repetition of single combats in the medieval\nromances--notably in Mallory\u2019s King Arthur; and they were probably not\nthe least popular portions of the tale. Even a stronger parallel case\nmight be found in the description of a prize-fight in the columns of\nsporting newspapers, not so many years ago, when each particular blow\nand its results, up to \u201cRound 102,\u201d were graphically described in\nlanguage quite as figurative, if not so poetic, as Homer\u2019s; and found,\nwe must suppose, a sufficient circle of readers to whom it was not only\nintelligible but highly interesting. The poet who recites--as we must\nsuppose Homer to have done--must above everything else excite and\ninterest his audience: his lay must be rich in incident; and to an\naudience who were all more or less warlike, no incidents could be so\nexciting as the details of battle. There is much savageness in Homer\u2019s\ncombats; but savageness is to the taste of men whose only means of\nexcitement is through their grosser senses, and a love of the horrible\nin fact or fiction is by no means extinct even in our own day.\n\nYoung Antilochus, the son of Nestor\u2019s old age, draws the first blood in\nthe battle. He kills Echepolus.\n\n    \u201cBeneath his horsehair-plum\u00e8d helmet\u2019s peak\n    The sharp spear struck; deep in his forehead fixed,\n    It pierced the bone: then darkness veiled his eyes,\n    And, like a tower, amid the press he fell.\u201d\n\nOver his dead body the combat grows furious--the Greeks endeavouring to\ndrag him off to strip his armour, the Trojans to prevent it. The armour\nof a vanquished enemy was, in these combats, something like what an\nenemy\u2019s scalp is to the Indian \u201cbrave;\u201d to carry it off in triumph, and\nhang it up in their own tents as a trophy, was the great ambition of the\nslayer and his friends. Ajax, too, slays his man--spearing him right\nthrough from breast to shoulder: and the tall Trojan falls like a\npoplar--\n\n    \u201cWhich with his biting axe the wheelwright fells.\u201d\n\nUlysses, roused by the death of a friend who is killed in trying to\ncarry off this last body, rushes to the front, and poising his spear,\nlooks round to choose his victim. The foremost of his enemies recoil;\nbut he drives his weapon right through the temples of Demophoon, a\nnatural son of Priam, as he sits high in his chariot. The Trojans waver;\neven Hector gives ground; the Greeks cheer, and some carry off the\nbodies, while the rest press forward. It is going hard with Troy, when\nApollo, who sits watching the battle from the citadel, calls loudly to\ntheir troops to remember that \u201cthere is no Achilles in the field\nto-day.\u201d So the fight is renewed, Minerva cheering on the Greeks, as\nApollo does the Trojans.\n\nDiomed, the gallant son of Tydeus, now becomes the hero of the day. His\nexploits occupy, indeed, so large a portion of the next book of the\npoem, that it was known as \u201cThe Deeds of Diomed,\u201d and would form,\naccording to one theory, a separate romance or lay of itself, exactly as\nsome portions of the Arthurian romance have for their exclusive hero\nsome one renowned Knight of the Round Table, as Tristram or Lancelot.\nDiomed fights under supernatural colours. Minerva herself not only\ninspires him with indomitable courage, but sheds over his whole person a\nhalo of celestial radiance before which the bravest Trojan might well\nrecoil--\n\n    \u201cForth from his helm and shield a fiery light\n    There flashed, like autumn\u2019s star, that brightest shines\n    When newly risen from his ocean bath.\u201d\n\nOnce more the prince of archers, Pandarus the Lycian, comes to the\nrescue of the discomfited Trojans. He bends his bow against Diomed, who\nis now fighting on foot, and the arrow flies true to its mark. He sees\nit strike deep into the shoulder, and the red blood streams out visibly\nover the breastplate. Elated by his success, he turns round and shouts\nhis triumphant rallying-cry to the Trojans--\u201cThe bravest of the Greeks\nis wounded to the death!\u201d But his exultation is premature. Diomed gets\nhim back to his chariot, and calls on his faithful friend and charioteer\nSthenelus to draw the arrow from the wound. The blood wells out fast,\nas the barb is withdrawn; but the hero puts up a brief prayer to his\nguardian goddess for strength yet to avenge him of his adversary, whose\nexulting boast he has just heard. Minerva hears. By some rapid celestial\npharmacy she heals the wound at once, and gives him fresh strength and\nvigour, adding these words of encouragement and warning:--\n\n    \u201cGo fearless onward, Diomed, to meet\n    The Trojan hosts; for I within thy breast\n    Thy father\u2019s dauntless courage have infused,\n    Such as of old in Tydeus\u2019 bosom dwelt,\n    Bold horseman, buckler-clad; and from thine eyes\n    The film that dimmed them I have purged away,[18]\n    That thou mayest well \u2019twixt gods and men discern.\n    If then some god make trial of thy force,\n    With other of the Immortals fight thou not;\n    But should Jove\u2019s daughter Venus dare the fray,\n    Thou need\u2019st not shun at her to cast thy spear.\u201d (D.)\n\nWith redoubled vigour and fury the hero returns to the battle; and again\nthe Trojans\u2019 names, to each of which the poet contrives to give some\ntouch of individual character, swell the list of his victims. \u00c6neas\nmarks his terrible career, and goes to seek for Pandarus. He points out\nto him the movements of the Greek champion, and bids him try upon his\nperson the far-famed skill that had so nearly turned the fate of war in\nthe case of Menelaus. Pandarus tells him of his late unsuccessful\nattempt, and declares his full belief that some glamour of more than\nmortal power has made Diomed invulnerable to human weapons. He bitterly\nregrets, as he tells \u00c6neas, that he did not follow the counsels of his\nfather Lycaon, and bring with him to the campaign, like other chiefs of\nhis rank, some of those noble steeds of whom eleven pair stand always in\nhis father\u2019s stalls, \u201cchamping the white barley and the spelt.\u201d He had\nfeared, in truth, that they might lack provender in the straits of the\nsiege:--\n\n    \u201cWoe worth the day, when from the glittering wall,\n    Hector to serve, I took my shafts and bow,\n    And to fair Ilion, from my father\u2019s hall,\n    Captain of men, did with my Lycians go!\n    If ever I return, if ever I know\n    My country, my dear wife, my home again,\n    Let me fall headless to an enemy\u2019s blow,\n    Save the red blaze of fire these arms contain!\u201d (W.)\n\n\u00c6neas bids him mount with him into his chariot, and together they will\nencounter this redoubtable Greek. Pandarus takes the spear and shield,\nwhile \u00c6neas guides the horses. Diomed is still fighting on foot, when\nSthenelus, who attends him with the chariot, sees the two hostile chiefs\nbearing down upon him. He begs his comrade to remount, and avoid the\nencounter with two such adversaries. Diomed indignantly refuses. He will\nslay both, with the help of Heaven; and he charges Sthenelus, if such\nshould be the happy result, to leave his own horses and chariot,\nsecuring the reins carefully to the chariot-front, and make prize of the\nfar-famed steeds of \u00c6neas--they are descended from the immortal breed\nbestowed of old by Jupiter upon King Tros. So, on foot still, he awaits\ntheir onset. Pandarus stands high in the chariot with poised weapon,\nand hails his enemy as he comes within hurling distance:--\n\n    \u201cPrince, thou art met! though late in vain assailed,\n    The spear may enter where the arrow failed.\u201d\n\nIt does enter, and piercing through the tough ox-hide of the shield,\nstands fixed in the breastplate. Again, with premature triumph, he\nshouts exultingly to Diomed that at last he has got his death-wound. But\nthe Greek quietly tells him that he has missed--which assuredly he\nhimself is not going to do. He hurls his spear in turn with fatal aim:\nand the poet tells us with ghastly detail how it entered beneath the\neyeball, and passed down through the \u201cwhite teeth\u201d and tongue--\n\n    \u201cTill the bright point looked out beneath the chin\u201d--\n\nand Pandarus the Lycian closes his career, free at least from the\nbaseness which medieval romances have attached to his name.\n\n\u00c6neas, in obedience to the laws of heroic chivalry, at once leaps down\nfrom the chariot to defend against all comers the body of his fallen\ncomrade.\n\n    \u201cAnd like a lion fearless in his strength\n    Around the corpse he stalked this way and that,\n    His spear and buckler round about him held,\n    To all who dared approach him threat\u2019ning death.\u201d\n\nDiomed in this case avails himself of a mode of attack not uncommon with\nHomer\u2019s heroes. He seizes a huge stone--which not two men of this\ndegenerate age (says Homer, with a poet\u2019s cynicism for the present)\ncould have lifted--and hurls it at the Trojan prince. It strikes him on\nthe hip, crushes the joint, and brings him to his knees. But that his\ngoddess-mother Venus comes to his rescue, the world had heard the last\nof \u00c6neas, and Virgil must have sought another hero for his great poem.\n\n    \u201cAbout her much-loved son her arms she throws--\n    Her arms, whose whiteness match the falling snows;\n    Screened from the foe behind her shining veil,\n    The swords wave harmless and the javelins fail.\u201d (P.)\n\nSthenelus, for his part, remembers the orders of his friend and chief,\nand drives off at once to the Greek camp with the much-coveted horses of\n\u00c6neas. Diomed rushes in pursuit of Venus--whom he knows, by his new gift\nof clear vision--as she carries off her son through the ranks of the\nTrojans. She, at least, of all the divinities of Olympus, had no\nbusiness, thought the Greek, in the _m\u00eal\u00e9e_ of battle. Besides, he had\nreceived from Minerva special permission to attack her. Most\nungallantly, to our notions, he does so. The scene is such a curious\none, that it is well to give Lord Derby\u2019s version of it:--\n\n    \u201cHer, searching through the crowd, at length he found,\n    And springing forward, with his pointed spear\n    A wound inflicted on her tender hand.\n    Piercing th\u2019 ambrosial veil, the Graces\u2019 work,\n    The sharp spear grazed her palm below the wrist.\n    Forth from the wound th\u2019 immortal current flowed,\n    Pure ichor, life-stream of the blessed Gods;\n    They eat no bread, they drink no ruddy wine,\n    And bloodless thence and deathless they become.\n    The goddess shrieked aloud, and dropped her son;\n    But in his arms Apollo bore him off\n    In a thick cloud enveloped, lest some Greek\n    Might pierce his breast, and rob him of his life.\n    Loud shouted brave Tydides, as she fled:\n    \u2018Daughter of Jove, from battle-fields retire;\n    Enough for thee weak women to delude;\n    If war thou seek\u2019st, the lesson thou shalt learn\n    Shall cause thee shudder but to hear it named.\u2019\n    Thus he; but ill at ease, and sorely pained,\n    The Goddess fled: her, Iris, swift as wind,\n    Caught up, and from the tumult bore away,\n    Weeping with pain, her fair skin soiled with blood.\u201d\n\nIt is the original of the grand passage in the \u2018Paradise Lost,\u2019 in which\nthe English poet has adopted almost literally the Homeric idea of\nsuffering inflicted on an immortal essence, while carefully avoiding the\nludicrous element in the scene. In the battle of the Angels, Michael\ncleaves Satan down the right side:--\n\n    \u201cThe griding sword with discontinuous wound\n    Passed through him; but th\u2019 ethereal substance closed,\n    Not long divisible; and from the gash\n    A stream of nectar\u2019ous humour issuing flowed,\n    Sanguine, such as celestial spirits may bleed.\u201d\n            --Par. Lost, vi. 329.\n\nIn sore plight the goddess mounts to Olympus, and there, throwing\nherself into the arms of her mother Dione, bewails the wrong she has\nsuffered at the hands of a presumptuous mortal. Dione comforts her as\nbest she may, reminding her how in times past other of the Olympian\ndeities have had to endure woes from men: Mars, when the giants Otus and\nEphialtes bound him for thirteen months in brazen fetters; Juno herself,\nthe queen of Heaven, and Pluto, the king of the Shades, had been wounded\nby the daring Hercules. She foretells, however, an untimely death for\nthe presumptuous hero who has raised his hand against a goddess:--\n\n                        \u201cFool and blind!\n    Unknowing he how short his term of life,\n    Who fights against the gods! for him no child\n    Upon his knees shall lisp a father\u2019s name,\n    Safe from the war and battle-field returned.\n    Brave as he is, let Diomed beware\n    He meet not with a mightier than himself:\n    Then fair \u00c6giale, Adrastus\u2019 child,\n    The noble wife of valiant Diomed,\n    Shall long, with lamentations loud, disturb\n    The slumbers of her house, and vainly mourn\n    Her youthful lord, the bravest of the Greeks.\u201d (D.)\n\nBut Dione is no prophet. Diomed returned home (if the later legends are\nto be believed) to find that his wife \u00c6giale had been anything but\ninconsolable during his absence.\n\nVenus\u2019 wound is healed, and her tears are soon dried. But Minerva--whose\nprovince in the celestial government seems to be not only wisdom but\nsatire--cannot resist a jest upon the unfortunate plight of the Queen of\nLove. She points her out to Jupiter, and suggests as a probable\nexplanation of the wound, that she has been trying to lead astray some\nother fair Greek, like Helen,--\n\n    \u201cAnd as her hand the gentle dame caressed,\n     A golden clasp has scratched her slender arm.\u201d\n\nJupiter smiles, and calling his pouting daughter-goddess to his side,\nrecommends her in future to leave to Mars and Minerva the dangers of the\nbattle-field, and confine her own prowess to campaigns in which she is\nlikely to be more victorious.\n\nDiomed is still rushing in pursuit of \u00c6neas. He knows that Apollo is\nshielding him; but not even this knowledge checks the impetuous Greek.\n\n    \u201cThrice was his onset made, with murd\u2019rous aim,\n     And thrice Apollo struck his glittering shield;\n     But when with godlike force he sought to make\n     His fourth attempt, the Far-destroyer spake\n     In terms of awful menace; \u2018Be advised,\n     Tydides, and retire; nor as a god\n     Thyself esteem, since not alike the race\n     Of gods immortal and of earth-born men.\u2019\u201d (D.)\n\nDiomed accepts the warning, and \u00c6neas is carried off to the temple of\nApollo in the citadel, where Latona and Diana tend and heal him. Apollo\nmeanwhile replaces him in the battle by a phantom likeness, round which\nGreeks and Trojans continue the fight. Then he calls his brother deity\nthe War-god to the rescue of the hard-prest Trojans, and entreats him to\nscare from the field this irreverent and outrageous champion, who, he\nverily believes, would lift his spear against Olympian Jove himself. In\nthe likeness of a Thracian chief, Mars calls Hector to the rescue; and\nthe Trojan prince leaps from his chariot, and, crying his battle-cry,\nturns the tide of war. \u00c6neas is restored, sound and well, to his place\nin the _m\u00eal\u00e9e_--somewhat indeed to the astonishment of his friends, who\nhad seen him lying so long grievously wounded; but, as the poet pithily\nremarks, little time had they to ask him questions. The two Ajaxes,\nUlysses, Menelaus, and Agamemnon himself, \u201cking of men,\u201d come to the\nforefront of the Greek battle: and the young Antilochus, son of the\nvenerable Nestor, notably wins his spurs. But the Trojans have\nsupernatural aid: and Diomed, of the purged vision, cries to his friends\nto beware, for that he sees the War-god in their front brandishing his\nhuge spear. The Greek line warily gives ground before this immortal\nadversary. The Queen of Heaven can no longer endure to be a mere\nspectatress of the peril of her favourites. She obtains permission from\nJupiter to send Minerva against Mars: and the two goddesses, seated in\nJuno\u2019s chariot of state, glide down from Olympus--\n\n    \u201cMidway between the earth and starry heaven\u201d--\n\nand alight upon the plain of Troy. There Juno, taking human shape,\ntaunts the Greek troops with cowardice--\n\n    \u201cIn form of Stentor of the brazen voice,\n    Whose shout was as the shout of fifty men\u201d--\n\nand whose name has made a familiar place for itself in our English\nvocabulary.\n\n    \u201cShame on ye, Greeks, base cowards! brave alone\n    In outward semblance: while Achilles yet\n    Went forth to battle, from the Dardan gates\n    The Trojans never ventured to advance.\u201d\n\nMinerva seeks out Diomed, whom she finds leaning on his chariot, resting\nawhile from the fight, and bathing the wound made by the arrow of\nPandarus. She taunts him with his inferiority to his great father\nTydeus, who was, she reminds him, \u201csmall in stature, but every inch a\nsoldier.\u201d Diomed excuses himself by reference to her own charge to\nhim--to fight with none of the immortals save Venus only. But now the\ngoddess withdraws the prohibition, and herself--putting on the \u201chelmet\nof darkness,\u201d to hide herself from Mars--takes her place beside him in\nthe chariot, instead of Sthenelus, his henchman and charioteer: and the\nchariot-axle groans beneath the more than mortal load. They drive in\nfull career against the War-god: in vain he hurls his spear against\nDiomed, for the hand of the goddess turns it safely aside. The mortal\nchampion is more successful: his spear strikes Mars in the flank,\npiercing the flesh, and drawing from him, as from Venus, the heavenly\n\u201cichor.\u201d And the wounded god cries out with a shout like that of ten\nthousand men, so that both hosts listen to the sound with awe and\ntrembling. He too, like Venus, flies to Olympus, and there makes piteous\ncomplaint of the impious deeds which, at the instigation of Minerva,\nthis headstrong mortal is permitted to do. His father Jupiter rates him\nsoundly, as the outlaw of the Olympian family, inheriting his mother\nJuno\u2019s headstrong temper. However, he bids P\u00e6on, the physician of the\nimmortals, heal the wound, and Hebe prepares him a bath. Juno and\nMinerva have done their work, having driven Mars from the field, and\nthey too quit the plains of Troy, and leave the mortal heroes to\nthemselves.\n\nWhile Diomed still pursues his career of slaughter, Menelaus gives token\nof that easy and pliant disposition which half explains his behaviour to\nHelen. He has at his mercy a Trojan who has been thrown from his\nchariot, and begs his life. The fair-haired king is about to spare\nhim,--as none in the whole story of the fight is spared,--when his\nbrother Agamemnon comes up, and after chiding him for such\nsoft-heartedness, pins the wretched suppliant to the ground with his\nashen spear.\n\nSo the fight goes on through the sixth book; which is, however, chiefly\nremarkable for two of the most striking episodes in the poem. The first\nis the meeting of Diomed with the young Lycian captain, Glaucus.\nEncountering him in the field, and struck by his bold bearing, he asks\nhis name and race. Glaucus replies with that pathetic simile which,\nfound under many forms in many poets, has its earliest embodiment in the\nverse of the Hebrew Psalmist and the Greek bard. \u201cThe days of man are\nbut as grass.\u201d\n\n        \u201cBrave son of Tydeus, wherefore set thy mind\n        My race to know? the generations are\n        As of the leaves, so also of mankind.\n        As the leaves fall, now withering in the wind,\n        And others are put forth, and spring descends,\n        Such on the earth the race of men we find;\n        Each in his order a set time attends;\n    One generation rises and another ends.\u201d (W.)\n\nThe young chieftain goes on, nevertheless, to announce his birth and\nlineage. He is the grandson of the noble Bellerophon--the rider of the\nwondrous horse Pegasus and the slayer of the monster Chim\u00e6ra--all of\nwhose exploits he narrates at length, with some disregard to\nprobabilities, in the full roar of the battle round him. It turns out\nthat he and Diomed are bound together by a tie which all of Greek blood\nscrupulously respected--the rights of hospitality exercised towards each\nother by some of their ancestors. Such obligations descended from father\nto son, and served from time to time to mitigate the fierce and\nvindictive spirit of an age when every man\u2019s hand was in some sort\nagainst another. The grandfather of Diomed had been Bellerophon\u2019s guest\nand friend. So the Greek places his spear in the ground, and vows that\nhe will not raise his arm against Glaucus. There are enough besides of\nthe Trojan allies for him to slay, and Glaucus may find Greeks enough on\nwhom to flesh his valour; but for themselves, the old hereditary bond\nshall hold good, and in token of amity they will change armour. A good\nexchange, indeed, for Diomed; for whereas his own is but of the ordinary\nbrass or bronze, the young Lycian\u2019s panoply is richly inlaid with\ngold--\u201ca hundred oxen\u2019s worth for the worth of nine.\u201d The Greek words\nhave passed into a proverb.\n\nThe Trojans are still hard prest, and by the advice of his brother\nHelenus, who has the gift of soothsaying, and is as it were the domestic\npriest of the royal household, Hector hastens to the city, and directs\nhis mother Hecuba to go with her matrons in solemn procession to the\ntemple of Pallas, and beseech the goddess to withdraw the terrible\nDiomed from the field. In the palace, to his indignation, he finds\nParis dallying with Helen, and polishing his armour instead of joining\nthe fight. Hector upbraids him sharply: and Helen, in a speech full of\nself-abasement, laments the unworthiness of her paramour. Hector speaks\nno word of reproach to her, though he gently declines her invitation to\nrest himself also a while from the battle. Paris promises to follow him\nat once to the field; and Hector moves on to his own wife\u2019s apartments,\nto see her and his child once more before he goes back to the combat\nwhich he has a half-foreboding will end fatally for himself, whatever be\nthe fortunes of Troy.\n\nAnd now we are introduced to the second female character in the poem,\nstanding in the strongest possible contrast with that of Helen, but of\nno less admirable conception. It is remarkable how entirely Homer\nsucceeds in interesting us in his women, without having recourse to what\nmight seem to us the very natural expedient of dwelling on their\npersonal charms; especially when it is taken into account that, in his\nsimple narrative, he has not the resources of the modern novelist, who\ncan make even the plainest heroine attractive by painting her mental\nperfections, or setting before us the charms of her conversation. It has\nbeen said that he rather assumes than describes the beauty of Helen: in\nthe case of Andromache, it has been remarked that he never once applies\nto her any epithet implying personal attractions, though all his\ntranslators, Lord Derby included, have been tempted to do so. It is as\nthe wife and mother that Andromache charms us. We readily assume that\nshe is comely, graceful--all that a woman should be; but it is simple\ngrace of domestic character which forms the attraction of the Trojan\nprincess.\n\nHector does not find her, as he expects, in the palace. She had heard\nhow the fortunes of the day seemed turning against the Trojans; and she\nhad hurried, \u201clike one distraught,\u201d to the tower of the citadel, to see\nwith her own eyes how the fight was going. He meets her at the Sc\u00e6an\ngates, with the nurse and the child, \u201cwhom Hector called Scamandrius,\nfrom the river, but the citizens Astyanax\u201d--\u201cdefender of the city.\u201d The\nfather looks silently on his boy, and smiles; Andromache in tears clings\nto her husband, and makes a pathetic appeal to him not to be too\nprodigal of a life which is so dear to his wife and child. Her fate has\nbeen already that of many women of her day. Her father and seven tall\nbrethren have been slain by the fierce Achilles, when ravaging the\ncountry round Troy he destroyed their native city of Cilician Thebes:\nher mother too is dead, and she is left alone. She adds the touching\nloving confession, which Pope\u2019s version has made popular enough even to\nunclassical ears--\n\n    \u201cBut while my Hector still survives, I see\n    My father, mother, brethren, all in thee.\u201d\n\nHector soothes her, but it is with a mournful foreboding of evil to\ncome. He values too much his own honour and fair fame to shrink from the\nbattle:--\n\n                      \u201cI should blush\n    To face the men and long-robed dames of Troy,\n    If like a coward I could shun the fight;\n    Nor could my soul the lessons of my youth\n    So far forget, whose boast it still has been\n    In the fore-front of battle to be found,\n    Charged with my father\u2019s glory and mine own.\n    Yet in my inmost soul too well I know\n    The day must come when this our sacred Troy,\n    And Priam\u2019s race, and Priam\u2019s royal self,\n    Shall in one common ruin be o\u2019erthrown.\u201d (D.)\n\nBut that which wrings his heart most of all is the vision before his\neyes of his beloved wife dragged into slavery. Pope\u2019s version of the\nrest of the passage is so good of its kind, and has so naturalised the\nscene to our English conceptions, that no closer version will ever\nsupersede it.\n\n    \u201cThus having spoke, th\u2019 illustrious chief of Troy\n    Stretched his fond arms to clasp the lovely boy;\n    The babe clung crying to his nurse\u2019s breast,\n    Scared at the dazzling helm and nodding crest.\n    With secret pleasure each fond parent smiled,\n    And Hector hasted to relieve his child,\n    The glitt\u2019ring terrors from his brows unbound,\n    And placed the beaming helmet on the ground.\n    Then kissed the child, and lifting high in air,\n    Thus to the Gods preferred a father\u2019s prayer:\n    \u2018O thou! whose glory fills th\u2019 ethereal throne,\n    And all ye deathless powers! protect my son!\n    Grant him, like me, to purchase just renown,\n    To guard the Trojans, to defend the crown,\n    Against his country\u2019s foes the war to wage,\n    And rise the Hector of the future age!\n    So when triumphant from successful toils,\n    Of heroes slain he bears the reeking spoils,\n    Whole hosts may hail him with deserved acclaim,\n    And say--This chief transcends his father\u2019s fame:\n    While pleased amidst the general shouts of Troy,\n    His mother\u2019s conscious heart o\u2019erflows with joy.\u2019\n    He spoke, and fondly gazing on her charms,\n    Restored the pleasing burthen to her arms;\n    Soft on her fragrant breast the babe she laid,\n    Hushed to repose, and with a smile surveyed.\n    The troubled pleasure soon chastised by fear,\n    She mingled with the smile a tender tear.\n    The softened chief with kind compassion viewed,\n    And dried the falling drops, and thus pursued.\u201d\n\nThe \u201ccharms,\u201d be it said, are entirely Pope\u2019s idea, and do not harmonise\nwith the simplicity of the true Homeric picture. The husband was not\nthinking of his wife\u2019s beauty. He \u201ccaresses her with his hand,\u201d and\ntries to cheer her with the thought that no hero dies until his work is\ndone.\n\n    \u201cFor, till my day of destiny is come,\n    No man may take my life; and when it comes,\n    Nor brave nor coward can escape that day.\n    But go thou home, and ply thy household cares,\n    The loom and distaff, and appoint thy maids\n    Their several tasks; and leave to men of Troy,\n    And chief of all to me, the toils of war.\u201d (D.)\n\nThe tender yet half-contemptuous tone in which the iron soldier\nrelegates the woman to her own inferior cares, is true to the spirit of\nevery age in which war is the main business of man\u2019s life. Something in\nthe same tone is the charming scene between Hotspur and his lady in\nShakspeare\u2019s \u2018Henry IV.\u2019\n\n    \u201c_Hotspur._ Away, you trifler!--Love? I love thee not,--\n      I care not for thee, Kate; this is no world\n      To play with mammets and to tilt with lips:\n      We must have bloody noses and crack\u2019t crowns,\n      And pass them current too.--God\u2019s me, my horse!--\n      What say\u2019st thou, Kate? What wouldst thou have with me?\n\n    _Lady Percy._ Do you not love me? Do you not indeed?\n      Well,--do not, then; for since you love me not,\n      I will not love myself.--Do you not love me?\n      Nay, tell me if you speak in jest, or no.\n\n    _Hotspur._ Come, wilt thou see me ride?\n      And when I am o\u2019 horseback, I will swear\n      I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate:\n      I must not have you henceforth question me\n      Whither I go, nor reason whereabout;\n      Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,\n      This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.\n      I know you wise; but yet, no further wise\n      Than Harry Percy\u2019s wife: constant you are--\n      But yet a woman: and for secrecy,\n      No lady closer: for I well believe\n      Thou wilt not utter that thou dost not know.\u201d\n\nHector and his wife part; he to the fight, accompanied now by Paris,\ngirt for the battle in glittering armour, the show knight of the\nTrojans: Andromache back to the palace, casting many a lingering glance\nbehind at the gallant husband she is fated never again to see alive. The\nRoman ladies of the last days of the Republic were not much given to\nsentiment; but we do not wonder that Brutus\u2019s wife, Portia, knowing well\nthe Homeric story, was moved to tears in looking at a picture of this\nparting scene.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nTHE SECOND DAY\u2019S BATTLE.\n\n\nBy the advice of his brother Helenus, who knows the counsels of heaven,\nHector now challenges the Greek host to match some one of their\nchieftains against him in single combat. There is an unwillingness even\namongst the bravest to accept the defiance--so terrible is the name of\nHector. Menelaus--always gallant and generous--is indignant at their\ncowardice, and offers himself as the champion. He feels he is no match\nfor Hector; but, as he says with modest confidence, the issues in such\ncase lie in the hands of heaven. But Agamemnon, ever affectionately\ncareful of his brother, will not suffer such unequal risk: some more\nstalwart warrior shall be found to maintain the honour of the Ach\u00e6ans.\nOld Nestor rises, and loudly regrets that he has no longer the eye and\nsinews of his youth--but the men of Greece, he sees with shame, are not\nnow what they were in his day. Stung by the taunt, nine chiefs spring to\ntheir feet at once, and offer themselves for the combat. Conspicuous\namongst them are Diomed, the giant Ajax, and King Agamemnon himself; and\nwhen the choice of a champion is referred to lot, the hopes and wishes\nof the whole army are audibly expressed, that on one of these three the\nlot may fall. It falls on Ajax; and amidst the congratulations and\nprayers of his comrades, the tall chieftain dons his armour, and strides\nforth to meet his adversary. The combat is maintained with vigour on\nboth sides, till dusk comes on; the heralds interpose, and they separate\nwith mutual courtesies and exchange of presents.\n\nBoth armies agree to a truce, that they may collect and burn their dead\nwho strew the plain thickly after the long day\u2019s battle. The Trojans,\ndispirited by their loss, and conscious that, owing to the breach of the\nfirst truce by the treacherous act of Pandarus, they are fighting under\nthe curse of perjury, hold a council of war, in which Antenor (the\nNestor of Troy) proposes to restore Helen and her wealth, and so put an\nend at last to this weary siege. But Paris refuses--he will give back\nthe treasure, but not Helen; and the proposal thus made is spurned by\nthe Greeks as an insult. They busy themselves in building a\nfortification--ditch, and wall, and palisade--to protect their fleet\nfrom any sudden incursion of the Trojans. When this great work is\ncompleted, they devote the next night to one of those heavy feasts and\ndeep carousals, to which men of the heroic mould have always had the\nrepute of being addicted in the intervals of hard fighting. Most\nopportunely, a fleet of merchant-ships comes in from Lemnos, laden with\nwine; in part a present sent by Euneus, son of the renowned voyager\nJason, to the two royal brothers; in part a trading speculation, which\nmeets with immediate success among the thirsty host. The thunder of\nOlympus rolls all through the night, for the Thunderer is angry at the\nprolongation of the war: but the Greeks content their consciences with\npouring copious libations to appease his wrath, and after their\nprolonged revelry sink into careless slumber.\n\nAt daybreak Jupiter holds a council in Olympus, and harangues the\nassembled deities at some length--with a special request that he may not\nbe interrupted. He forbids, on pain of his royal displeasure, any\nfurther interference on the part of the Olympians on either side in the\ncontest; and then, mounting his chariot, descends in person to Mount Ida\nto survey the field of battle, once more crowded with fierce combatants.\nHe hesitates, apparently, which side he shall aid--for he has no\nintention of observing for himself the neutrality which he has so\nstrictly enjoined upon others. So he weighs in a balance the fates of\nGreek and Trojan: the former draws down the scale, while the destiny of\nTroy mounts to heaven. The metaphor is reversed, according to our modern\nnotions; it is the losing side which should be found wanting when\nweighed in the balance. And so Milton has it in the passage which is\nundoubtedly founded on these lines of Homer. \u201cThe Omnipotent,\u201d says\nMilton,\n\n    \u201cHung forth in heaven His golden scales, yet seen\n    Betwixt Astr\u00e6a and the Scorpion sign,\n    Wherein all things created first He weighed,\n    The pendulous round earth with balanced air\n    In counterpoise; now ponders all events,\n    Battles and realms; in these He put two weights,\n    The sequel each of parting and of fight:\n    The latter quick up flew and kicked the beam.\u201d\n\nAnd Gabriel bids Satan look up, and mark the warning:--\n\n                      \u201c\u2018For proof look up,\n    And read thy lot in yon celestial sign,\n    Where thou art weighed, and shown how light, how weak,\n    If thou resist!\u2019 The Fiend looked up, and knew\n    His mounted scale aloft; nor more, but fled\n    Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.\u201d\n            --Par. Lost, end of B. iv.\n\nIn accordance with this decision the Thunderer sends his lightnings down\nupon the host of the Greeks, and throws them into terror and confusion.\nNestor, still in the thickest of the fray, has one of his chariot-horses\nkilled by a shaft from the bow of Paris; and while he is thus all but\nhelpless, Diomed sees the terrible Hector bearing down on the old chief\nin full career. He bids Nestor mount with him, and together they\nencounter the Trojan prince, against whom Diomed hurls his spear: he\nmisses Hector, but kills his charioteer. As Diomed presses on, a\nthunderbolt from Jupiter ploughs the ground right in front of his\nstartled horses. Nestor sees in this omen the wrath of heaven; and at\nhis entreaty Diomed reluctantly allows him to turn the horses, and\nretires, pursued by the loud taunts of Hector, who bids the Greek\n\u201cwench\u201d go hide herself. Thrice he half turns to meet his jesting enemy,\nand thrice the roll of the angry thunder warns him not to dare the wrath\nof the god. Hector in triumph shouts to his comrades to drive the Greeks\nback to their new trenches, and burn their fleet. He calls to his horses\nby name (he drove a bright bay and a chestnut, and called them Whitefoot\nand Firefly), and bids them do him good suit and service now, if ever,\nin return for all the care they have had from Andromache, who has fed\nthem day by day with her own hands, even before she would offer the\nwine-cup to their thirsty master. The Greeks are driven back into their\ntrenches, where they are rallied by the royal brothers Agamemnon and\nMenelaus in person. They have too on their side a bowman as good as\nPandarus or Paris, who now does them gallant service. It is Teucer, the\nyounger brother of the huge Ajax. The description of his manner of fight\nwould suit almost exactly the light archer and his pavoise-bearer of the\nmedieval battle:--\n\n    \u201cAjax the shield extended: Teucer then\n    Peered from behind, and with a shaft forth stept,\n    And slew one singled from the enemy\u2019s men:\n    Then, as a child creeps to his mother, crept\n    To Ajax, who the shield before him swept.\u201d (W.)\n\nEight times he draws his bow, and every arrow reaches its mark in a\nTrojan. Twice he shoots at Hector, but each time the shaft is turned\naside, and finds some less renowned victim. Of these the last is\nHector\u2019s charioteer--the second who in this day\u2019s battle has paid the\nforfeit of that perilous honour. Hector leaps down to avenge his death,\nand Teucer, felled to the ground by a huge fragment of rock, is carried\noff the field with a broken shoulder, still covered by the shield of\nAjax. The Greeks remain penned within their stockade, and nothing but\nthe approach of night saves their fleet from destruction. The victorious\nTrojans bivouac on the field, their watch-fires lighting up the night;\nfor Hector\u2019s only fear now is lest his enemies should embark and set\nsail under cover of the darkness, and so escape the fate which he is\nconfident awaits them on the morrow. Mr Tennyson has chosen for\ntranslation the fine passage describing the scene, which closes the\nEighth Book:--\n\n    \u201cAs when in heaven the stars about the moon\n    Look beautiful, when all the winds are laid,\n    And every height comes out, and jutting peak,\n    And valley, and the immeasurable heavens\n    Break open to their highest, and all the stars\n    Shine, and the shepherd gladdens in his heart:\n    So many a fire between the ships and stream\n    Of Xanthus blazed before the towers of Troy,\n    A thousand on the plain; and close by each\n    Sat fifty in the blaze of burning fire;\n    And, champing golden grain, the horses stood\n    Hard by their chariots, waiting for the dawn.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nTHE EMBASSY TO ACHILLES.\n\n\nThe opening of the Ninth Book shows us the Greeks utterly disheartened\ninside their intrenchments. The threat of the dishonoured Achilles is\nfast being accomplished: they cannot stand before Hector. Agamemnon\ncalls a hasty council, and proposes--in sad earnest, this time--that all\nshould re-embark and sail home to Greece. The proposal is received in\nsilence by all except Diomed. He boldly taunts the king with cowardice:\nthe other Greeks may go home if they will, but he and his good comrade\nSthenelus will stay and fight it out, even if they fight alone. Then\nNestor takes the privilege of his age to remind Agamemnon that his\ninsult to Achilles is the real cause of their present distress. Let an\nembassy be sent to him where he lies beside his ships, in moody\nidleness, to offer him apology and compensation for the wrong. The king\nconsents; and Ajax, Ulysses, and Ph\u0153nix are chosen to accompany the\nroyal heralds on this mission of reconciliation. Ajax--the chief who in\nall warlike points stands second only to Achilles himself in the\nestimation of the army--is a delegate to whom even the great captain of\nthe Myrmidons must surely listen with respect. Ph\u0153nix has been a sort of\nfoster-father to Achilles from his boyhood, intrusted with the care of\nhim by his father Peleus, and has now accompanied him to the war by the\nold man\u2019s special request, to aid him with advice and counsel. If any\none in the camp has any influence over the headstrong prince, it will be\nthe man who, as he says, has dandled him in his arms in his helpless\ninfancy. And no diplomatic enterprise could be complete without the\naddition of Ulysses, the man of many devices and of persuasive tongue.\nThe chiefs set forth, and take their way along the shore to the camp of\nthe Myrmidons. They find Achilles sitting in his tent, solacing his\nperturbed spirit with playing on the lyre, to the music of which he\nsings the deeds of heroes done in the days of old--the exact prototype\nof those knightly troubadours of later times, who combined the\naccomplishments of the minstrel with the prowess of the soldier. His\nfaithful henchman Patroclus sits and listens to the song. With graceful\nand lofty courtesy the chief of the Myrmidons rises from his seat, and\nlays his lyre aside, and welcomes his visitors. He will hear no message\nuntil they have shared his hospitality. He brings them in, and sets them\ndown on couches spread with purple tapestry. Then, with the grand\npatriarchal simplicity of the days of Abraham, when no office done for a\nguest was held to be servile, he bids Patroclus fill a larger bowl, and\nmix the wine strong, and make good preparation of the flesh of sheep,\nand goats, and well-fed swine. The great hero himself divides the\ncarcases, while his charioteer Automedon holds them. The joints are\ncooked above the heaped embers on ample spits under the superintendence\nof Patroclus; and when all is ready, they fall to with that wholesome\nappetite which has been the characteristic of most heroes in classical\nand medieval times, Achilles carving for his guests, while Patroclus\ndeals out the bread. Professor Wilson\u2019s remarks on the scene are\ncharacteristic:--\n\n\u201cIn nothing was the constitution of the heroes more enviable than its\nnative power--of eating at all times, and without a moment\u2019s warning.\nNever does a meal to any distinguished individual come amiss. Their\nstomachs were as heroic as their hearts, their bowels magnanimous. It\ncannot have been forgotten by the reader, who hangs with a watering\nmouth over the description of this entertainment, that about two hours\nbefore these three heroes, Ulysses, Ajax, and old Ph\u0153nix, had made an\nalmost enormous supper in the pavilion of Agamemnon. But their walk\n\n    \u2018Along the margin of the sounding deep\u2019\n\nhad reawakened their slumbering appetite.\u201d\n\nIn this respect, too, the heroes of the Carlovingian and Arthurian\nromances equal those of Homer--probably, indeed, taking their colour\nfrom his originals. Nay, a good capacity for food and drink seems in\nitself to have been considered an heroic quality. When Sir Gareth of\nOrkney sits him down at table, coming as a stranger to King Arthur\u2019s\ncourt, his performance as a trencher-man excites as much admiration as\nhis soldier-like thews and sinews. The company declare of him\nenthusiastically that \u201cthey never saw so goodly a man, nor so well of\nhis eating.\u201d And in the same spirit Sir Kay, Arthur\u2019s foster-brother, is\nsaid, in the Welsh legend, to \u201chave drunk like four, and fought like a\nhundred.\u201d The animal virtues are closely linked together; we still\nprognosticate favourably of a horse\u2019s powers of endurance if we see\nthat he is, like Sir Gareth, a good feeder. And perhaps it is some\nlingering reminiscence of the old heroic ages that leads us still to\nmark our appreciation of modern heroes by bestowing on them a public\ndinner.\n\nWhen the meal is over, Ulysses rises, and in accordance with immemorial\ncustom--as old, it appears, as these half-mythical ages--pledges the\nhealth of their illustrious host. In a speech which does full justice to\nthe oratorical powers which the poet assigns him, he lays before\nAchilles the proposal of Agamemnon. He sets forth the straits to which\nthe Greeks are reduced, pent within their fortifications by the terrible\nHector, and acknowledges, in the fullest manner, that in the great name\nof Achilles lies their only hope of rescue. He dwells upon the remorse\nwhich Achilles himself will surely feel, when too late, if he suffers\nthe hopes of Greece to be ruined by the indulgence of his own haughty\nspirit--the temper against which, as he reminds him, his aged father\nwarned him when first he set out for Troy:--\n\n    \u201cMy son, the boon of strength, if so they will,\n    Juno or Pallas have the power to give;\n    But thou thyself thy haughty spirit must curb,\n    For better far is gentle courtesy.\u201d\n\nHe lays before him the propositions of Agamemnon. Briseis shall be\nrestored to him, in all honour, pure as when she left him; so the great\npoint in the quarrel is fully conceded. Moreover, the king will give him\nthe choice of his three daughters in marriage, if it ever be their happy\nfate to see again the shores of Argos, and will add such dowry\n\n    \u201cAs never man before to daughter gave.\u201d\n\nAnd he will send, for the present, peace-offerings of royal\nmagnificence; ten talents of pure gold, seven fair Lesbian slaves, \u201cwell\nskilled in household cares,\u201d twelve horses of surpassing fleetness--the\nprizes they have already won would be in themselves a fortune--and seven\nprosperous towns on the sea-coast of Argos. He adds, in well-conceived\nclimax to his speech, an appeal to higher motives. If Achilles will not\nrelax his wrath against Agamemnon, at least let him have some compassion\non the unoffending Greeks; let him bethink himself of the national\nhonour--of his own great name; shall Hector be allowed to boast, as he\ndoes now, that no Greek dares meet him in the field?\n\nBut neither the eloquence of Ulysses, nor the garrulous pleading of his\nold foster-father Ph\u0153nix, who indulges himself and his company with\nstories of Achilles\u2019 boyhood, and of the exploits of his own younger\ndays, can bend the iron determination of the hero. He will have none of\nAgamemnon\u2019s gifts, and none of Agamemnon\u2019s daughters--no, not were the\nprincess as fair as Venus. Greece has store of fair maidens for him to\nchoose from if he will. Nay, had either woman or wealth been his\ndelight, he had scarce come to Troy. He had counted the cost when he set\nout for the war:--\n\n    \u201cSuccessful forays may good store provide;\n    And tripods may be gained, and noble steeds:\n    But when the breath of man hath passed his lips,\n    Nor strength, nor foray can the loss repair.\n    I by my goddess mother have been warned,\n    The silver-footed Thetis, that o\u2019er me\n    A double chance of destiny impends:\n    If here remaining, round the walls of Troy\n    I wage the war, I ne\u2019er shall see my home,\n    But then undying glory shall be mine:\n    If I return, and see my native land,\n    My glory all is gone; but length of life\n    Shall then be mine, and death be long deferred.\u201d (D.)\n\nBesides, he adds with biting sarcasm, Agamemnon can have no need now of\nhis poor services. He has built a wall, he hears,--with ditch and\npalisade to boot: though he doubts whether, after all, it will keep out\nHector. To be sure, when _he_ was in the field, no wall was needed.\n\nNor is he a whit more moved by the few blunt and soldier-like remarks\nwith which Ajax closes the conference. They may as well return, says\nthat chief to Ulysses; words are lost upon one so obstinate as Achilles,\nwho will neither listen to reason, nor cares for the love of his old\ncompanions in arms. Ajax has no patience, either, with the romantic side\nof the quarrel--\n\n    \u201cAnd for a single girl! we offer seven.\u201d\n\nReproach and argument are alike in vain. The hero listens patiently and\ncourteously; but nothing shall move him from his resolution, unless\nHector, the godlike, shall carry fire and sword even to the ships and\ntents of the Myrmidons; a venture which, he thinks, the Trojan prince,\nwith all his hardihood, will pause before he makes.\n\nWith downcast hearts the envoys return to Agamemnon; the aged Ph\u0153nix\nalone remaining behind, at Achilles\u2019 special request, to accompany him\nwhen he shall set sail for home. Great consternation falls on the\nassembled chiefs when they learn the failure of their overtures; only\nDiomed, chivalrous as ever, laments that they should have stooped to ask\ngrace at such a churlish hand. Let Achilles go or stay as he will: for\nthemselves--let every man refresh himself with food and wine--\u201cfor\ntherein do lie both strength and courage\u201d--and then betake themselves to\ntheir no less needful rest: ready, so soon as \u201cthe rosy-fingered dawn\u201d\nappears, to set the battle fearlessly in array, in front of their ships\nand tents, against this redoubtable Hector.\n\nBut\n\n    \u201cUneasy lies the head that wears a crown.\u201d\n\nThere is no rest for the King of Men, who has the fate of a national\narmament on his soul. He looks forth upon the plain, where the thousand\nwatchfires of the enemy are blazing out into the night, and hears the\nconfused hum of their thick-lying battalions, and the sounds of the wild\nEastern music with which they are enlivening their revels, and\ncelebrating their victory by anticipation. He rises from his troubled\ncouch, determined to hold a night-council with Nestor and other chiefs\nof mark. He is donning his armour, when he is visited by his brother\nMenelaus--for he too has no rest, thinking of the dire straits into\nwhich in his sole cause the armies of Greece are driven. The royal\nbrothers go in different directions through the camp, and quietly rouse\nall the most illustrious captains. Nestor is the guiding spirit in the\ncouncil, as before. He advises a reconnoissance of the enemy\u2019s lines\nunder cover of the darkness. The office of a spy, be it remembered, was\nreckoned in these old times, as in the days of the Hebrew commonwealth,\na service of honour as well as of danger; and the kings and chiefs of\nthe Greeks no more thought it beneath their dignity than Gideon did in\nthe case of the Midianites. The man who could discover for them the\ncounsels of Hector would win for himself not only a solid reward, but an\nimmortal name--\n\n    \u201cHigh as heaven in all men\u2019s mouths\n    Should be his praise, and ample his reward;\n    For every captain of a ship should give\n    A coal-black ewe, and at her foot a lamb,\n    A prize beyond compare: and high should be\n    His place at banquets and at solemn feasts.\u201d\n\nDiomed straightway volunteers for the adventure, and out of the many\nchiefs who offer themselves as his comrade, he chooses Ulysses. So--not\nwithout due prayer to Heaven--valour and subtlety go forth together on\ntheir perilous errand.\n\nMeanwhile the same idea has occurred to Hector; he too would learn the\ncounsels of his enemies. One Dolon--a young warrior who has a fine taste\nfor horses, but is otherwise of somewhat feminine type (Homer tells us\nhe was the only brother of five sisters), and whose main qualification\nis fleetness of foot--is tempted to undertake the enterprise on a\nsomewhat singular condition--that he shall have as his prize the more\nthan mortal horses of Achilles, when, as he doubts not will be soon the\ncase, the spoils of the conquered Greeks shall come to be divided. And\nHector, with equal confidence, swears \u201cby his sceptre\u201d that they shall\nbe his and none other\u2019s. Wrapped in a cloak of wolfskin, and wearing a\ncap of marten\u2019s fur instead of a helmet, he too steals out into the\nnight. He does not escape the keen vision of Ulysses. The Greek spies\ncrouch behind some dead bodies, and allow him to pass them, when they\nrise and cut off his retreat to the Trojan camp. At first he thinks they\nare Trojans, sent after him by Hector;\n\n     \u201cBut when they came a spear-cast off, or less,\n      He knew them for his foes, and slipt away\n      With lithe knees flying: and they behind him press.\n      As when with jagg\u00e8d teeth two dogs of prey\n      Hang steadily behind, to seize and slay,\n      Down the green woods, a wild fawn or a hare,\n      That shrieking flies them; on his track so lay\n      Odysseus and the son of Tydeus there,\n    Winding him out from Troy, and never swerved a hair.\u201d (W.)\n\nTheir aim is to take him alive. Diomed at last gets within an easy\nspear-cast--\n\n     \u201cThen, hurling, he so ruled his aim, the spear\n      Whizzed by the neck, then sank into the ground.\n      He, trembling in his teeth, and white with fear,\n      Stood: from his mouth there came a chattering sound.\n      They panting, as he wept, his arms enwound.\n      \u2018Take me alive, and sell me home,\u2019 cried he;\n      \u2018Brass, iron, and fine gold are with me found.\n      Glad will my father render countless fee,\n    If living by the ships they bear him news of me.\u2019\u201d (W.)\n\nUlysses parleys with the unhappy youth, and drags from his terrified\nlips not only the secret of his errand, but the disposition of the\nTrojan forces,--most convenient information for their own movements.\nEspecially, he tells them where they might find an easy prey, such as\nhis own soul would love. Rhesus, king of the Thracian allies, has his\ncamp apart--\n\n          \u201cNo steeds that e\u2019er I saw,\n    For size and beauty, can with his compare;\n    Whiter than snow, and swifter than the wind.\u201d\n\nThe unwilling treachery does not save his wretched life. Ulysses\nsarcastically admires his choice of a reward--\n\n   \u201cHigh soared thy hopes indeed, that thought to win\n    The horses of Achilles; hard are they\n    For mortal man to harness or control,\n    Save for Achilles\u2019 self, the goddess-born.\u201d\n\nThen--with the cruel indifference to human life which marks every one of\nHomer\u2019s heroes--he severs his head from his body.\n\nFollowing the directions given by Dolon, the two Greeks make their way\nfirst to the quarters of the Thracian contingent. Swiftly and silently\nDiomed despatches the king and twelve of his warriors, as they sleep,\nwhile Ulysses drives off the snow-white horses. With these trophies they\nreturn safe to the Greek camp, where they are cordially welcomed, though\nit must be admitted they have gained but little insight into the designs\nof Hector.[19]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTHE THIRD BATTLE.\n\n\nWith the morrow\u2019s dawn begins the third and great battle, at the Greek\nlines, which occupies from the eleventh to the eighteenth book of the\npoem. Agamemnon is the hero of the earlier part of the day, and Hector\nis warned by Jupiter not to hazard his own person in the battle, unless\nthe Greek king is wounded; which at last he is, by the spear of a son of\nAntenor. Ulysses and Diomed supply his place; until Paris, fighting in\nsomewhat coward fashion, crouching behind the monumental stone of the\nnational hero Ilus, pins Diomed through the right heel to the ground\nwith an arrow. Ulysses stands manfully at bay almost alone amidst a host\nof enemies, holding his ground, though he too is wounded, till Ajax\ncomes to his aid. Still the Greeks have the worst of it. The skilful\nleech Machaon, amongst others, is wounded by an arrow from the bow of\nParis: till even Achilles, watching the fight from the lofty prow of his\nship, sees his day of triumph and vengeance close at hand. He sends\nPatroclus to the field--nominally to inquire who has just been carried\noff wounded, but with the further object, we may suppose, of learning\nthe state of the case more thoroughly. Nestor, to whose tent Patroclus\ncomes, begs him to use his influence now with his angry chief, and\npersuade him, if not to come to the rescue in person, at least to send\nhis stout Myrmidons to the aid of his countrymen, under Patroclus\u2019 own\ncommand.\n\nAgain the Greeks are driven within their intrenchments, and Hector and\nthe Trojan chariot-fighters pressing on them, attempt in their fierce\nexcitement even to make their horses leap the ditch and palisade. Foiled\nin this, they dismount, and, forming in five detachments under the\nseveral command of Hector, Helenus, Paris, \u00c6neas, and Asius son of\nHyrtacus, they attack the stockade at five points at once. Asius alone\nrefuses to quit his chariot; and choosing the quarter where a gate is\nstill left open to receive the Greek fugitives, he drives full at the\nnarrow entrance. But in that gateway on either hand stand two stalwart\nwarders, Leonteus and Polypates. The latter is the son of the mighty\nhero Pirithous, friend and comrade of Hercules, and both are of the\nrenowned race of the Lapith\u00e6. Gallantly the two champions keep the\ndangerous post against all comers, while their friends from the top of\nthe rampart shower huge stones upon their assailants. Even Hector at his\npoint of attack can make no impression: and as his followers vainly\nstrive to pass the ditch, an omen from heaven strikes them with\napprehension as to the final issue. An eagle, carrying off a huge\nserpent through the air, is bitten by the reptile, and drops it,\nwrithing and bleeding, in the midst of the combatants. Polydamas points\nit out to Hector, and reads in it a warning that their victory will be\nat best a dearly-bought one. Hector rebukes him for his weakness in\nputting faith in portents. The noble words in which the poet sums up\nHector\u2019s creed in such matters have passed into a proverb with patriots\nof every age and nation--\n\n    \u201cThe best of omens is our country\u2019s cause.\u201d\n\nSarpedon the Lycian, who claims none less than Jupiter for his father,\nhas taken chief command of the Trojan auxiliaries, and, gallantly\nseconded by his countryman Glaucus, sweeps \u201clike a black storm\u201d on the\ntower where Mnestheus, the Athenian, commands, and is like to have\ncarried it, when Glaucus falls wounded by an arrow from Teucer. The\nslaughter is terrible on both sides, and the ditch and palisade are red\nwith blood. \u201cThe balance of the fight hangs even;\u201d until at last the\nTrojan prince lifts a huge fragment of rock, and heaves it at the wooden\ngates which bar the entrance at his point of attack.\n\n   \u201cThis way and that the severed portals flew\n    Before the crashing missile; dark as night\n    His low\u2019ring brow, great Hector sprang within;\n    Bright flashed the brazen armour on his breast,\n    As through the gates, two javelins in his hand,\n    He sprang; the gods except, no power might meet\n    That onset; blazed his eyes with lurid fire.\n    Then to the Trojans, turning to the throng,\n    He called aloud to scale the lofty wall;\n    They heard, and straight obeyed; some scaled the wall;\n    Some through the strong-built gates continuous poured;\n    While in confusion irretrievable\n    Fled to their ships the panic-stricken Greeks.\u201d (D.)\n\nNeptune has been watching the fight from the wooded heights of\nSamothrace, and sees the imminent peril of his friends. \u201cIn four mighty\nstrides\u201d--the woods and mountains trembling beneath his feet--he reaches\nthe bay of \u0152ge, in Achaia, where far in the depths lie his shining\npalaces of gold. There the sea-god mounts his chariot, yoking\n\n   \u201cBeneath his car the brazen-footed steeds,\n    Of swiftest flight, with manes of flowing gold.\n    All clad in gold, the golden lash he grasped\n    Of curious work, and, mounting on his car,\n    Skimmed o\u2019er the waves; from all the depths below\n    Gambolled around the monsters of the deep,\n    Acknowledging their king; the joyous sea\n    Parted her waves; swift flew the bounding steeds;\n    Nor was the brazen axle wet with spray,\n    When to the ships of Greece their lord they bore.\u201d (D.)\n\nHe takes the form of the soothsayer Calchas, and in his person rallies\nthe discomfited Greeks, and summons the greater and the lesser Ajax to\nthe rescue. Both feel a sudden accession of new vigour and courage; Ajax\nOileus detects the divinity of their visitor, as the seeming Calchas\nturns to depart. The two chiefs quickly gather round them a phalanx of\ntheir comrades.\n\n   \u201cSpear close by spear, and shield by shield o\u2019erlaid,\n    Buckler to buckler pressed, and helm to helm,\n    And man to man; the horse-hair plumes above,\n    That nodded on the warriors\u2019 glittering crests,\n    Each other touched, so closely massed they stood.\n    Backward by many a stalwart hand were drawn\n    The spears, in act to hurl; their eyes and minds\n    Turned to the front, and eager for the fray.\u201d (D.)\n\nHector\u2019s career is stayed. Ajax the Lesser brings into play his band of\nLocrian bowmen, of little use in the open field, but good when they are\nunder cover.\n\n                \u201cTheirs were not the hearts\n    To brook th\u2019 endurance of the standing fight;\n    Nor had they brass-bound helms with horse-hair plume,\n    Nor ample shields they bore, nor ashen spear,\n    But came to Troy in bows and twisted slings\n    Of woollen cloth confiding.\u201d\n\nThe galling storm of their arrows throws confusion into the Trojan\nranks. Helenas and Deiphobus, Hector\u2019s brothers, have already been led\noff wounded: Asius son of Hyrtacus has found his trust in chariot and\nhorses vain, and lies dead within the Greek lines. But Hector still\npresses on, and Paris shows that he can play the soldier on occasion as\nsuccessfully as the gallant. The Greeks, too, miss their leaders.\nAgamemnon, Ulysses, Diomed, are all disabled for the time. The two\nAjaxes and Idomeneus of Crete do all that man can do. But the stockade\nhas been forced, and the fight is now round the ships,--the last hope of\nbare safety for the Greek forces. If Hector burns them, as he boasts he\nwill, all means of retreat, all the long-cherished prospect of seeing\ntheir homes again, are lost to them. In a hasty conference with his\nwounded companions beside his galley, Agamemnon, suffering and\ndispirited, once more counsels retreat before it be too late. If they\ncan but hold out till nightfall, then, under cover of the darkness, he\nproposes to take the sea. Those vessels which lie close to the shore may\nbe launched at once without discovery from the enemy, and kept out at\nanchor: the rest can follow when the Trojans have, as usual, withdrawn\nfrom immediate attack, as soon as the shades of evening make the\ndistinction hazardous between friend and foe. Ulysses and Diomed\noverrule the proposal; and the wounded leaders return to the scene of\ncombat, unable to take an active part, but inspiriting their men from\nsafe posts of observation.\n\nThe interlude of comedy is furnished again by the denizens of Olympus.\nJuno has watched with delight the successful efforts of Neptune to rally\nthe Greeks against Hector and the hateful Trojans; but she is in an\nagony of apprehension lest Jupiter, who has his attention just now\noccupied in Thrace, should interfere at this critical moment, and still\ngrant the victory to Hector. She determines to put in force all her\npowers of blandishment, and to coax the Thunderer to spend in her\ncompany those precious hours which are laden with the fate of her\nGreeks. She is not content with her ordinary powers of fascination: she\napplies to the goddess of love for the loan of her magic girdle,--\n\n   \u201cHer broidered cestus, wrought with every charm\n    To win the heart; there Love, there young Desire,\n    There fond Discourse, and there Persuasion dwelt,\n    Which oft enthrals the mind of wisest men.\u201d\n\nIt certainly enthrals the mind of the sovereign of Olympus; who, in all\ncases where female attractions were concerned, was even as the most\nfoolish of mortals. Transfigured by the cestus of Venus, his queen\nappears to him in a halo of celestial charms which are irresistible. In\nher company he speedily forgets the wretched squabbles of the creatures\nupon earth. Juno has bribed the god of sleep also to become her\naccomplice; and the dread king is soon locked in profound repose.\n\nThen Neptune seizes his opportunity, and heads the Greeks in person.\nAgamemnon, disregarding his recent wound, is seen once more in the front\nof the battle. Ajax meets Hector hand to hand, receives his spear full\nin his breast just where his cross-belts meet, and so escapes unwounded.\nAs the Trojan prince draws back to recover himself, the giant Greek\nupheaves a huge stone that has shored up one of the galleys, and hurls\nit with main strength against his breast. \u201cLike an oak of the forest\nstruck by lightning\u201d Hector falls prone in the dust. With shouts of\nexultation, Ajax and his comrades rush to crown their victory by\nstripping his armour; but the great chiefs of the enemy,--\u00c6neas,\nPolydamas, the Lycian captains Sarpedon and Glaucus--gather round and\nlock their shields in front of the fallen hero, while others bear him\naside out of the battle, still in a death-like swoon, to where his\nchariot stands. Dismayed at the fall of their great leader, the Trojans\ngive ground; the trench is recrossed, and the Greeks breathe again.\n\nJupiter awakes from sleep just in time to see the mischief that has been\ndone; the Trojans in flight, the Greeks with Neptune at their head\npursuing; Hector lying senseless by the side of his chariot, still\nbreathing heavily, and vomiting blood from his bruised chest, and\nsurrounded by his anxious comrades. He turns wrathfully upon Juno--it is\nher work, he knows. He reminds her of former penalties which she had\nbrought upon herself by deceiving him.\n\n   \u201cHast thou forgotten how in former times\n    I hung thee from on high, and to thy feet\n    Attached two ponderous anvils, and thy hands\n    With golden fetters bound which none might break?\n    There didst thou hang amid the clouds of heaven:\n    Through all Olympus\u2019 breadth the gods were wroth;\n    Yet dared not one approach to set thee free.\u201d (D.)\n\nHe does not proceed, however, to exercise any such barbarous conjugal\ndiscipline on this occasion, and is readily appeased by his queen\u2019s\nassurance that the interference of Neptune was entirely on his own\nproper motion. He condescends even to explain why he desires to give a\ntemporary triumph to the Trojans: it is that, in accordance with his\nsworn promise to Thetis, he may avenge the insult offered to her son\nAchilles, by teaching the Greeks their utter helplessness without him.\n\nThe Goddess of the Rainbow is sent to warn Neptune, on pain of the\nThunderer\u2019s displeasure, to quit the fight. The sea-king demurs. \u201cWas\nnot a fair partition made, in the primeval days, between the three\nbrother-gods, of the realms of Air, and Sea, and Darkness? and is not\nEarth common ground to all? Why is not Jupiter content with his own\nlawful domains, and by what right does he assume to dictate to a\nbrother--and a brother-king?\u201d Iris, however, calms him; he is perfectly\nright in theory, she admits; but in practice he will find his elder\nbrother too strong for him. So the sea-god, in sulky acquiescence,\nleaves the scene of battle, and plunges down into the depths of his own\ndominion. Ph\u0153bus Apollo, on the other hand, receives Jupiter\u2019s\npermission to aid the Trojans. He sweeps down from Olympus to the spot\nwhere Hector lies, now slowly reviving. The hero recognises his\ncelestial visitor, and feels at once his strength restored, and his\nardour for the battle reawakened. To the consternation of the Greeks, he\nreappears in the field, fierce and vigorous as before. But he no longer\ncomes alone; in his front moves Ph\u0153bus Apollo,--\n\n   \u201cHis shoulders veiled in cloud; his arm sustained\n    The awful \u00c6gis, dread to look on, hung\n    With shaggy tassels round and dazzling bright,\n    Which Vulcan, skilful workman, gave to Jove,\n    To scatter terror \u2019mid the souls of men.\u201d (D.)\n\nWhen the sun-god flashes this in the faces of the Greeks, heart and\nspirit fail them. Stalking in the van of the Trojans, he leads them up\nonce more against the embankment, and, planting his mighty foot upon\nit, levels a wide space for the passage of the chariots,--\n\n   \u201cEasy, as when a child upon the beach,\n    In wanton play, with hands and feet o\u2019erthrows\n    The mound of sand which late in sport he raised.\u201d\n\nThe habits and pursuits of grown-up men change with the passing\ngeneration; but the children of Homer\u2019s day might play with our own, and\nunderstand each other\u2019s ways perfectly.\n\nChariots and footmen press through the breach pell-mell, and again the\nbattle rages round the Greek galleys. Standing on their high decks, the\nGreeks maintain the struggle gallantly with the long boarding-pikes, as\nwe should call them, kept on board for use in such emergencies. Ajax\u2019\ngalley is attacked by Hector in person; but the Greek chief stands\ndesperately at bay, wielding a huge pike thirty-three feet long, and his\nbrother Teucer plies his arrows with fatal effect upon the crowded\nassailants: until Jupiter, alarmed lest Hector should be struck, snaps\nhis bowstring in sunder. Hector calls loudly for fire to burn the\nvessels, and one warrior after another, torch in hand, makes the attempt\nat the cost of his life, until twelve lie biting the sand, slain by the\nhuge weapon of Ajax.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nTHE DEATH OF PATROCLUS.\n\n\nPatroclus, sitting in the tent of the wounded Eurypylus, sees the\nimminent peril of his countrymen. He cannot bear the sight, and taking\nhasty leave of his friend, hurries back to the quarters of Achilles, and\nstands before him in an agony of silent tears. At first the hero affects\nto chide his follower for such girlish sorrow--what cares he for the\nGreeks? It is plain, however, that he does care; and when Patroclus, in\nvery outspoken terms, upbraids him for his obduracy, and asks that, even\nif the dark doom that hangs over him makes his chief unwilling to take\nthe field in person, he will at least send him with the Myrmidons to the\nrescue, Achilles at once consents. Patroclus shall go, clad in his\narmour, that so perchance the Trojans may be deceived, and think that\nthey see the well-known crest of Achilles himself once more leading the\nfight. Only he warns him not to advance too far; to be content with\nrescuing the galleys, and not attempt to press his victory home to the\nwalls of Troy; in that case he will find the gods of the enemy turn\ntheir wrath against him. In spite of his assumed indifference, Achilles\nis intently watching the combatants in the distance, and sees the\nflames rising in the air from the galley of Ajax. He can no longer\nrestrain his feelings, but hurries his comrade forth. Patroclus puts on\nthe harness of his chief, and takes his sword and shield: only the\nmighty spear he forbears to touch;--\n\n   \u201cNone save Achilles\u2019 self that spear could poise,\n    The far-famed Pelian ash, which to his sire,\n    On Pelion\u2019s summit felled, to be the bane\n    Of mightiest chiefs, the centaur Chiron gave.\u201d\n\nHe mounts the hero\u2019s chariot, driven by the noble Automedon, and drawn\nby the three horses, Xanthus, Balius, and Pedasus--or as we should call\nthem, Chestnut, Dapple, and Swift-foot. The battalions of the Myrmidons\neagerly gather round their leaders,--even old Ph\u0153nix taking command of\none detachment. Achilles himself gives them a few fiery words of\nexhortation. \u201cThey have long chafed at their enforced idleness, and\nclamoured for the battle; lo! there lies the opportunity they have\nlonged for.\u201d Then, standing in the midst, he pours from his most costly\ngoblet the solemn libation to Jove, and prays of him for Patroclus\nvictory and a safe return. The poet tells us, with that licence of\nprognostication which has been considerably abused by some modern\nwriters of fiction, that half the prayer was heard, and half denied.\n\n\u201cLike a pack of ravening wolves, hungering for their prey,\u201d the\nMyrmidons launch themselves against the enemy. The Trojans recognise, as\nthey believe, in the armed charioteer who heads them, the terrible\nAchilles, and consternation spreads through their ranks. Even Hector,\nthough still fighting gallantly, is borne back over the stockade, and\nthe ditch is filled with broken chariots and struggling horses. Back\ntowards the Trojan lines rolls the tide of battle. Sarpedon, the great\nLycian chief, own son to Jupiter, falls by the spear of Patroclus. The\nruler of Olympus has hesitated for a while whether he shall interpose to\nsave him; but his fated term of life is come, and there is a mysterious\nDestiny in this Homeric mythology, against which even Jupiter seems\npowerless. All that he can do for his offspring is to insure for his\nbody the rites of burial; and by his order the twin brothers, Sleep and\nDeath, carry off the corpse to his native shore of Lycia.\n\nBut Patroclus has forgotten the parting caution of Achilles. Flushed\nwith his triumph, he follows up the pursuit even to the walls of Troy.\nBut there Apollo keeps guard. Thrice the Greek champion in defiance\nsmites upon the battlements, and thrice the god shakes the terrible \u00c6gis\nin his face. A fourth time the Greek lifts his spear, when an awful\nvoice warns him that neither for him, nor yet for his mightier master\nAchilles, is it written in the fates to take Troy. Awe-struck, he draws\nback from the wall, but only to continue his career of slaughter among\nthe Trojans. Apollo meets him in the field, strips from him his helmet\nand his armour, and shivers his spear in his hand. The Trojan Euphorbus,\nseeing him at this disadvantage, stabs him from behind, and Hector,\nfollowing him as he retreats, drives his spear through his body. As the\nTrojan prince stands over his victim, exulting after the fashion of all\nHomeric heroes in what seems to our taste a barbarous and boastful\nspirit, Patroclus with his dying breath foretells that his slayer shall\nspeedily meet his own fate by the avenging hand of Achilles. Hector\nspurns the prophecy, and rushes after the charioteer Automedon, whom\nthe immortal horses carry off safe from his pursuit. Then donning the\narmour of Achilles, so lately worn by Patroclus, he leads on the Trojans\nto seize the dead body, which Menelaus is gallantly defending. After a\nlong and desperate contest, the Greeks, locking their shields together\nin close phalanx, succeed in carrying it off, the two Ajaxes keeping the\nassailants at bay. Jupiter, in pity to the dead hero, casts a veil of\ndarkness round him. But this embarrasses the movements of friends as\nwell as enemies, and gives rise to a characteristic outburst on the part\nof Ajax, often quoted. He can fight best when he sees his way. \u201cGive us\nbut light, O Jove, and in the light, if thou seest fit, destroy us!\u201d\n\nWe have now reached the crisis of the story. The wrath of Achilles\nagainst Agamemnon wanes and pales before the far more bitter wrath which\nnow fills his whole soul against Hector, as the slayer of his comrade.\nYoung Antilochus, son of Nestor, brings the mournful tidings to his\ntent, where he sits already foreboding the result, as he sees the Greeks\ncrowding back to their galleys from the field in front of Troy. His\ngrief is frantic--he tears his hair, and heaps dust upon his head, after\na fashion which strongly suggests the Eastern character of the tale. His\ngoddess-mother, Thetis \u201cof the silver feet,\u201d hears him,\n\n   \u201cBeside her aged father where she sat,\n    In the deep ocean-caves,\u201d\n\nand comes with all her train of sea-nymphs to console him, as when\nbefore he sat weeping with indignation at the insult of Agamemnon. In\nvain she strives to comfort him with the thought that his insulted\nhonour has been fully satisfied--that the Greeks have bitterly rued\ntheir former treatment of him. He feels only the loss of Patroclus, and\ncurses the hour in which he was born. All that he longs for now is\nvengeance upon Hector. Thetis sorrowfully reminds him that it is written\nin the book of fate that when Hector falls, his own last hour is near at\nhand. Be it so, is his reply--death comes in turn to all men, and he\nwill meet it as he may. But he cannot go forth to battle without armour;\nand the goddess promises that by the morrow\u2019s dawn, Vulcan, the immortal\ncraftsman, shall furnish him with harness of proof.\n\nThe Greeks have fought their way to their vessels, step by step, with\nthe dead body of Patroclus. But Hector with his Trojans has pressed them\nclose all the way, and even when at the Greek lines seizes the corpse by\nthe feet. Iris flies to Achilles with a message from Juno--will he see\nhis dead friend given as a prey to the dogs and vultures?--He is without\narmour, true; but there is no need for him to adventure himself among\nthe combatants; let him only show himself, let the Trojans but hear his\nvoice, and it is enough. He does so; standing aloft upon the rampart,\nwhile Pallas throws her \u00e6gis over him, and surrounds his head with a\nhalo of flashing light, he lifts his mighty voice and thrice shouts\naloud. Panic seizes the whole host of Troy, and while they give ground\nin dismay, the dead Patroclus is borne off to the tent of Achilles.\n\nNight falls on the plain, and separates the combatants. The Trojans,\nbefore their evening meal, hold an anxious council, in which Polydamas,\nas great in debate as Hector is in the field, advises that they should\nnow retire within their walls. Achilles, it is evident, will head the\nGreeks in the morning, and who shall stand before him? But the wise\ncounsel of Polydamas meets the same fate as that of Ahithophel; Heaven\nwill not suffer men to listen to it. Minerva perverts the understandings\nof the Trojans, and they prefer the rasher exhortations of Hector, who\nurges them at all hazards to keep the field.\n\nThetis, meanwhile, has sought out Vulcan, and bespoken his skill in the\nforging of new armour for her son. The lame god will work for her, she\nknows; for in the day when his cruel mother Juno, in wrath at his\nmarvellous ugliness, cast him down from Olympus, she with her\nsister-goddess Eurynome had nursed him in their bosom till he grew\nstrong. She finds him now hard at work at his forges, in the brazen\nhalls which he has made for himself in heaven. He is completing at this\nmoment some marvellous machinery--twenty tripods mounted on wheels of\ngold (the earliest hint of velocipedes), which are to move of\nthemselves, and carry him to and fro to the assembly of the gods.\nAnother marvel, too, is to be seen in the Fire-king\u2019s establishment,\nwhich has long been the desideratum of modern households, but which\nmodern mechanical science has as yet failed to invent--automaton\nservants, worked by machinery.\n\n   \u201cIn form as living maids, but wrought in gold,\n    Instinct with consciousness, with voice endued,\n    And strength, and skill from heavenly teachers drawn;\n    These waited duteous at the monarch\u2019s side.\u201d\n\nWillingly, at the request of the sea-goddess, Vulcan plies his immortal\nart. Helmet with crest of gold, breastplate \u201cbrighter than the flash of\nfire,\u201d and the pliant greaves that mould themselves to the limb, are\nsoon completed. But the marvel of marvels is the shield. On this the\ngod bestows all his skill, and the, poet his most graphic description.\nIt is covered with figures of the most elaborate design, wrought in\nbrass, and tin, and gold, and silver. In its centre are the sun, the\nmoon, and all the host of heaven: round the rim flows the mighty\nocean-river, which in Homeric as in Eastern mythology encompasses the\nearth; and on its embossed surface, crowded with figures, is embodied an\nepitome of human life, such as life was in the days of Homer. The tale\nis told in twelve compartments, containing each a scene of peace or war.\nThree groups represent a city in time of peace: a wedding procession\nwith music and dancing, a dispute in the market-place, and a reference\nto the judgment of the elders gathered in council. Three represent a\ncity in time of war: a siege, an ambuscade, and a battle. Then follow\nthree scenes of outdoor country life: ploughing, the harvest, and the\nvintage. The lord of the harvest stands looking on at his reapers, like\nBoaz. In the vintage scene, the art of the immortal workman is minutely\ndescribed. The vines are wrought in gold, the props are of silver, the\ngrape-bunches are of a purple black, and there is a trench round of some\ndark-hued metal, crowned by a palisade of bright tin. Three pastoral\ngroups complete the circle. First, a herd of oxen with herdsmen and\ntheir dogs, attacked by lions; secondly, flocks feeding in a deep\nvalley, with the folds and shepherds\u2019 huts in the distance; and lastly,\na festival dance of men and maidens in holiday attire, with the \u201cdivine\nbard,\u201d without whom no festival is complete, singing his lays to his\nharp in the midst, and two gymnasts performing their feats for the\namusement of the crowd of lookers-on. If any reader should have imagined\nthat Homer\u2019s song of (it may be) three thousand years ago was rude and\ninartistic, he has but to read, in the version of any of our best\ntranslators, this description of the Shield of Achilles, to be convinced\nthat the poet understood his work to the full as well as the immortal\ncraftsman whom he represents as having wrought it. We need not trouble\nourselves with the difficulty of that French critic, who doubted whether\nso many subjects could really be represented on any shield of manageable\nsize--like Goldsmith\u2019s rustics who marvelled, in the case of the village\nschoolmaster,\n\n    \u201cThat one small head could carry all he knew.\u201d\n\nIt is only necessary to point to the clever design of Flaxman for its\nrealisation, and its actual embodiment (with the moderate diameter of\nthree feet) in the shield cast by Pitts.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nTHE RETURN OF ACHILLES.\n\n\nWith a fierce delight Achilles gazes on the work of the Olympian\narmourer, before the dazzling brightness of which even the Myrmidons\nveil their faces. He sets forth at once for the tents of Agamemnon; and,\ntaking his way along the shore, calls the leaders to battle as he passes\neach man\u2019s galley. The news of his coming spreads fast and far, and\nevery man, from the highest to the lowest, even those who never quitted\nthe ship on any other occasion--\n\n   \u201cThe steersmen who the vessels\u2019 rudders hold,\n    The very stewards who served the daily bread\u201d--\n\nflock to the central rendezvous to welcome back the champion of the\nAch\u00e6ans. He is as impulsive and outspoken in his reconciliation as in\nhis wrath. There is no need of mediation now between himself and\nAgamemnon. He accosts the king with a noble simplicity:\n\n   \u201cGreat son of Atreus, what hath been the gain\n    To thee or me, since heart-consuming strife\n    Hath fiercely raged between us, for a girl--\n    Who would to heaven had died by Dian\u2019s shafts\n    That day when from Lyrnessus\u2019 captured town\n    I bore her off, so had not many a Greek\n    Bitten the bloody dust, by hostile hands\n    Subdued, while I in anger stood aloof.\n    Great was the gain to Troy; but Greece, methinks,\n    Will long retain the memory of our feud.\n    Yet pass we that; and though our hearts be sore,\n    Still let us school our angry spirits down.\n    My wrath I here abjure.\u201d (D.)\n\nAgamemnon, for his part, magnanimously admits his error; laying the\nchief blame, however, upon Jupiter and Fate, who blinded the eyes of his\nunderstanding. The peace-offerings are produced and accepted, though\nAchilles only chafes at anything which can delay his vengeance. Ulysses\nstrongly urges the necessity of a substantial meal for the whole army;\n\n   \u201cFor none throughout the day till set of sun,\n    Fasting from food, may bear the toils of war;\n    His spirit may be eager for the fray,\n    Yet are his limbs by slow degrees weighed down.\u201d\n\nAchilles schools himself into patience while the rest act upon this\nprosaic but prudent counsel; but for himself, he will neither eat nor\ndrink, nor wash his blood-stained hands, till he has avenged the death\nof his comrade. So he sits apart in his grief, while the rest are at the\nbanquet: Minerva, by Jupiter\u2019s command, infusing into his body ambrosia\nand nectar, to sustain his strength. Another true mourner is Briseis.\nThe first sight which meets the captive princess on her return to the\nMyrmidon camp is the bloody corpse of Patroclus. She throws herself upon\nit in an agony of tears. He, in the early days of her captivity, had\nspoken kind and cheering words, and had been a friend in time of\ntrouble. So, too, Menelaus briefly says of him--\u201cHe knew how to be kind\nto all men.\u201d This glimpse which the poet gives us of the gentler\nfeatures of the dead warrior\u2019s character is touching enough, when we\nremember the utter disregard of an enemy\u2019s or a captive\u2019s feelings shown\nnot only by Homer\u2019s heroes, but by those of the older Jewish Scriptures.\n\nWhen all is ready for the battle, Achilles dons the armour of Vulcan,\nand draws from its case the Centaur\u2019s gift,--the ashen spear of Mount\nPelion, which even Patroclus, it will be remembered, had not ventured to\ntake in hand. Thus armed, he mounts his chariot, drawn by the two\nimmortal steeds, Xanthus and Balius--for their mortal yoke-fellow had\nbeen slain in the battle in which Patroclus fell. As he mounts, in the\nbitter spirit which leads him to blame the whole world for the death of\nhis friend, he cannot forbear a taunt to his horses--he trusts they will\nnot leave him on the field, as they left Patroclus. Then the chestnut,\ninspired by Juno, for once finds a human voice, and exculpates himself\nand his comrade. It was no fault of theirs; it was the doom of\nPatroclus, and Achilles\u2019 own doom draws nigh. This day they will bring\nhim back in safety; but the end is at hand.\n\nUnlike Hector, Achilles knows and foresees his doom clearly; but, like\nHector, he will meet it unflinchingly. Pope\u2019s version of his reply is\ndeservedly admired. Xanthus has uttered his warning;\n\n   \u201cThen ceased for ever, by the Furies tied,\n    His fateful voice. Th\u2019 intrepid chief replied\n    With unabated rage--\u2018So let it be!\n    Portents and prodigies are lost on me;\n    I know my fate; to die, to see no more\n    My much-loved parents and my native shore;\n    Enough--when Heaven ordains, I sink in night;\n    Now perish Troy!\u2019 he said, and rushed to fight.\u201d\n\nIn the renewed battle which ensues, the gods, by express permission of\ntheir sovereign, take part. Juno, Neptune, Minerva, Mercury, and Vulcan\nassist the Greeks: Mars, Venus, Apollo, Latona, and Diana join the\nTrojans. Their interference seems, at least to our modern taste, to\nassist in no way the action of the poem, and merely tends to weaken for\nthe time the human interest. We must be content to assume that upon a\nGreek audience the impression was different. The only effect which these\nimmortal allies produce upon the fortunes of the day is a negative one;\nApollo incites \u00c6neas to encounter Achilles, and when he is in imminent\ndanger, Neptune conveys him away in a mist. Apollo performs the same\noffice for Hector, who also engages the same terrible adversary, in the\nhope of avenging upon him the death of his young brother Polydorus.\nDisappointed in both his greater antagonists, Achilles vents his wrath\nin indiscriminate slaughter. Driving through the disordered host of the\nTrojans, his chariot wheels and axle steeped in blood, he cuts the mass\nof fugitives in two, and drives part of them into the shallows of the\nriver Scamander. Leaping down from his chariot, he wades into the river,\nand there continues his career of slaughter, sword in hand. Twelve\nTrojan youths he takes alive and hands them over to his followers;\nsparing them for the present only to slay them hereafter as victims at\nthe funeral-pile to appease the shade of Patroclus. Another suppliant\nfor his mercy has a singular history. The young Lycaon, one of the many\nsons of Priam, had been taken prisoner by him in one of his raids upon\nTrojan territory, and sold as a slave in Lemnos. He had been ransomed\nthere and sent home to Troy, only twelve days before he fell into his\nenemy\u2019s hands again here in the bed of the Scamander. Achilles\nrecognises him, and cruelly taunts him with his reappearance: the dead\nTrojans whom he has slain will surely next come to life again, if the\ncaptives thus cross the seas to swell the ranks of his enemies. In vain\nLycaon pleads for his life, that he is not the son of the same mother as\nHector--that his brother Polydorus has just been slain, which may well\ncontent the Greek\u2019s vengeance. There is a gloomy irony in the words with\nwhich Achilles rejects his prayer. Before Patroclus fell, he had spared\nmany a Trojan; but henceforth, all appeal to his mercy is vain--most of\nall from a son of Priam. But, in fact, the wish to escape one\u2019s fate he\nholds to be utterly unreasonable;\n\n   \u201cThou too, my friend, must die--why vainly wail?\n    Dead is Patroclus too, thy better far--\n    Me too thou seest, how stalwart, tall, and fair,\n    Of noble sire and goddess-mother born,\n    Yet must I yield to death and stubborn fate,\n    Whene\u2019er, at morn or noon or eve, the spear\n    Or arrow from the bow may reach my life.\u201d (D.)\n\nAt last the great river-god--whom the gods call Xanthus, but men\nScamander--rises in his might, indignant at seeing his stream choked\nwith corpses, and stained with blood. He hurls the whole force of his\nwaves against Achilles, and the hero is fain to save himself by grasping\nan elm that overhangs the bank, and so swinging himself to land. But\nhere Scamander pursues him, and, issuing from his banks, rolls in a\ndeluge over the plain. Even the soul of Achilles is terror-stricken at\nthis new aspect of death. Is he to die thus, like some vile churl--\n\n    \u201cBorne down in crossing by a wintry brook?\u201d\n\nNeptune and Minerva appear to encourage him, and give him strength to\nbattle with the flood: and when Scamander summons his brother-river\nSimois to his aid, Vulcan sends flames that scorch all the river-banks,\nconsuming the trees and shrubs that clothe them, and threatening to dry\nup the very streams themselves. The river yields, and retires to his\nbanks, leaving Achilles free to pursue his victories. He drives the\nTrojans inside their walls, and but that Apollo guards the gates, would\nhave entered the city in hot pursuit. Hector alone remains without--his\ndoom is upon him.\n\nThe gods, meanwhile, have entered the field of battle on their own\naccount, and contributed, as before, a ludicrous element to the action\nof the poem. Minerva fells Mars the war-god to the ground with a huge\nmass of rock, an ancient landmark, which she hurls against him; and he\nlies covering \u201cabove seven hundred feet,\u201d till Venus comes to his aid to\nlead him from the field, when the terrible goddess strikes her to the\nearth beside him. Juno shows the strength of those \u201cwhite arms\u201d which\nthe poet always assigns to her, by a terrible buffet which she bestows,\nfor no particular reason apparently, upon Diana, who drops her bow and\nloses her arrows, and flies weeping to her father Jupiter. He, for his\npart, has been watching the quarrels of his court and family with a\ndignified amusement;--\n\n   \u201cJove as his sport the dreadful scene descries,\n    And views contending gods with careless eyes.\u201d (P.)\n\nThose philosophers who see a moral allegory in the whole of the Homeric\nstory, have supplied us with a key to the conduct and feelings of\nJupiter during this curious combat. \u201cJupiter, as the lord of nature, is\nwell pleased with the war of the gods--that is, of earth, sea, air,\n&c.--because the harmony of all beings arises from that discord. Thus\nheat and cold, moist and dry, are in a continual war, yet upon this\ndepends the fertility of the earth and the beauty of the creation. So\nthat Jupiter, who, according to the Greeks, is the soul of all, may well\nbe said to smile at this contention.\u201d[20] Those readers who may not be\nsatisfied with this solution must be content to take the burlesque as it\nstands.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nTHE DEATH OF HECTOR.\n\n\nHector remains alone outside the Sc\u00e6an gate, awaiting his great enemy.\nIn vain his aged father and mother from the walls entreat him to take\nshelter within, like the rest of his countrymen. He will not meet the\njust reproach of Polydamas, whose prudent counsel he rejected. The\ndeaths of his friends who have fallen in this terrible battle, which he\nhad insisted upon their risking, hang heavy on his soul. He, at least,\nwill do what he may for Troy. Yet he has no confidence in the result of\nthe encounter. If he were only sure that Achilles would listen, he would\neven now offer to restore Helen, and so end this disastrous war. But he\nfeels it is too late; vengeance alone will now content Achilles.\n\n   \u201cNot this the time, nor he the man with whom\n    By forest oak or rock, like youth and maid,\n    To hold light talk as youth and maid might hold.\n    Better to dare the fight, and know at once\n    For whom the vict\u2019ry is decreed by Heaven.\u201d\n\nAchilles draws near. The courage which has never failed Hector before,\nwholly deserts him now; he turns and flies, \u201clike a dove from the\nfalcon.\u201d Judged by any theory of modern heroism, his conduct is simply\nindefensible. Critics tell us that the poet, in order to enhance the\nglory of his chief hero, makes even the champion of Troy fear to face\nhim. But it is no compliment, in our modern eyes, to a victorious\nwarrior, to have it explained that his crowning victory was won over a\ncoward. Yet perhaps there was something of this feeling maintained even\nby Englishmen in days not so very long gone by, when it was the popular\nfashion to represent Frenchmen generally, and the great French general\nin particular, as always running away from the English bayonets.\nHowever, to Homer\u2019s public it was evidently not incongruous or\nderogatory to the heroic type of character, that sudden panic should\nseize even the bravest in the presence of superior force. Hector, as has\nbeen said, turns and flies for his life.\n\nThrice round the walls of the city, his friends looking on in horror at\nthe terrible race, he flies, with Achilles in pursuit. In each course he\ntries to reach the gates, that his comrades may either open to him, or\nat least cover him by launching their missiles from the walls against\nhis enemy. But still Achilles turns him back towards the plain, signing\nto the Greeks to hurl no spear, nor to interfere in any way with his\nsingle vengeance. The gods look down from Olympus with divided interest.\nJupiter longs to save him; but Minerva sternly reminds him of the dread\ndestiny--the Eternal Law--which even the Ruler of Olympus is bound to\nreverence. Once more he lifts in heaven the golden scales, and finds\nthat Hector\u2019s fate weighs down the balance. Then, at last, his guardian\nApollo leaves him. Minerva, on her part, comes to the aid of her\nfavourite Achilles with a stratagem, as little worthy of his renown (to\nour view) as the sudden panic of Hector. She appears by the side of the\nTrojan hero in the likeness of his brother Deiphobus, and bids him stand\nand fight; they two, together, must surely be a match for Achilles.\nHector turns and challenges his adversary. One compact he tries to make,\nin a few hurried words, before they encounter; let each promise, since\none must fall, to restore the dead body of his enemy in all honour to\nhis kindred. Achilles makes no reply but this:--\n\n   \u201cTalk not to me of compacts; as \u2019tween men\n    And lions no firm concord can exist,\n    Nor wolves and lambs in harmony unite,\n    But ceaseless enmity between them dwells:\n    So not in friendly terms, nor compact firm,\n    Can thou and I unite, till one of us\n    Glut with his blood the mail-clad warrior Mars.\n    Mind thee of all thy fence; behoves thee now\n    To prove a spearman skilled, and warrior brave.\n    For thee escape is none; now, by my spear,\n    Hath Pallas doomed thy death: my comrade\u2019s blood,\n    Which thou hast shed, shall all be now avenged.\u201d (D.)\n\nThe spear launched with these words misses its mark: that of Hector\nstrikes full in the centre of his enemy\u2019s shield, but it glances\nharmlessly off from the fire-god\u2019s workmanship. He looks round for\nDeiphobus to hand him another; but the false Deiphobus has vanished,\nand, too late, Hector detects the cruel deceit of the goddess. He will\ndie at least as a hero should. He draws his sword, and rushes on\nAchilles. The wary Greek eyes him carefully as he comes on, and spies\nthe joint in his harness where the breastplate meets the throat. Through\nthat fatal spot he drives his spear, and the Trojan falls to the ground\nmortally wounded, but yet preserving the power of speech. As his\nconqueror stands over him cruelly vaunting, and vowing to give his body\nto the dogs and to the vultures, he makes a last appeal to his mercy.\n\u201cBy the heads of his parents\u201d he beseeches him to spare this last\nindignity; the ransom which his father Priam will offer shall be ample\nfor one poor corpse. But the wrath of Achilles has become for the\npresent mere savage madness. Neither prayer nor ransom shall avail in\nthis matter. Hector\u2019s last words are prophetic:--\n\n          \u201cI know thee well, nor did I hope\n    To change thy purpose; iron is thy soul.\n    But see that on thy head I bring not down\n    The wrath of heaven, when by the Sc\u00e6an gate\n    The hand of Paris, with Apollo\u2019s aid,\n    Brave warrior as thou art, shall strike thee down.\u201d (D.)\n\nThe only glimpse of nobility which Achilles shows throughout the whole\nscene is in his stoical answer:--\n\n   \u201cDie thou! my fate I then shall meet, whene\u2019er\n    Jove and th\u2019 immortal gods shall so decree.\u201d\n\nWhat follows is mere brutality. The Greeks crowd round, and drive their\nweapons into the senseless body.\n\n   \u201cAnd one to other looked, and said, \u2018Good faith,\n    Hector is easier far to handle now,\n    Than when erewhile he wrapped our ships in fire.\u2019\u201d\n\nDoes it need here to do more than recall the too well remembered\nsequel--how the savage victor pierced the heels of his dead enemy, and\nso fastened the body to his chariot, and dragged him off to his ships,\nin full sight of his agonised parents? how\n\n   \u201cA cloud of dust the trailing body raised;\n    Loose hung his glossy hair; and in the dust\n    Was laid that noble head, so graceful once.\u201d\n\nOr how the miserable Priam, grovelling on the floor of his palace,\nbesought his weeping friends to suffer him to rush out of the gates, and\nimplore the mercy of the merciless Achilles? Less horrible, if not less\npiteous, is the picture of Andromache:--\n\n                        \u201cTo her no messenger\n    Had brought the tidings, that without the walls\n    Remained her husband; in her house withdrawn,\n    A web she wove, all purple, double woof,\n    With varied flowers in rich embroidery,\n    And to her neat-haired maids she gave command\n    To place the largest caldrons on the fires,\n    That with warm baths, returning from the fight,\n    Hector might be refreshed; unconscious she,\n    That by Achilles\u2019 hand, with Pallas\u2019 aid,\n    Far from the bath, was godlike Hector slain.\n    The sounds of wailing reached her from the tower.\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    Then from the house she rushed, like one distract,\n    With beating heart; and with her went her maids.\n    But when the tower she reached, where stood the crowd,\n    And mounted on the wall, and looked around,\n    And saw the body trailing in the dust,\n    Which the fleet steeds were dragging to the ships,\n    A sudden darkness overspread her eyes;\n    Backward she fell, and gasped her spirit away.\n    Far off were flung th\u2019 adornments of her head,\n    The net, the fillet, and the woven bands;\n    The nuptial veil by golden Venus given,\n    That day when Hector of the glancing helm\n    Led from E\u00ebtion\u2019s house his wealthy bride.\n    The sisters of her husband round her pressed,\n    And held, as in the deadly swoon she lay.\u201d (D.)\n\nThe body is dragged off to the ships, and flung in the dust in front of\nthe bier on which Patroclus lies. And now, at last, when he has been\nfully avenged, the due honours shall be paid to his beloved remains,\nwhile the dogs and vultures feast on those of Hector. Thrice in slow\nprocession, with a mournful chant, the Myrmidons lead their horses\nround the bier. While Achilles sleeps the deep sleep of exhaustion after\nthe long day\u2019s battle, the shade of his dead friend appears to him, and\nchides him for leaving him so long unburied, a wandering ghost in the\ngloom below.\n\n   \u201cSleep\u2019st thou, Achilles, mindless of thy friend,\n    Neglecting not the living, but the dead?\n    Hasten my fun\u2019ral rites, that I may pass\n    Through Hades\u2019 gloomy gates; ere those be done,\n    The spirits and spectres of departed men\n    Drive me far from them, nor allow to cross\n    Th\u2019 abhorred river; but forlorn and sad\n    I wander through the widespread realms of night.\n    And give me now thy hand, whereon to weep;\n    For never more, when laid upon the pyre,\n    Shall I return from Hades; never more,\n    Apart from all our comrades, shall we two,\n    As friends, sweet counsel take; for me, stern Death,\n    The common lot of man, has ope\u2019d his mouth;\n    Thou too, Achilles, rival of the gods,\n    Art destined here beneath the walls of Troy\n    To meet thy doom; yet one thing must I add,\n    And make, if thou wilt grant it, one request:\n    Let not my bones be laid apart from thine,\n    Achilles, but together, as our youth\n    Was spent together in thy father\u2019s house.\u201d (D.)\n\nAs eager now to do honour to Achilles as he was before to insult him,\nAgamemnon has despatched a strong force at early dawn to cut down wood\nfor a huge funeral pile. The burial rites are grandly savage. In long\nprocession and in full panoply the Myrmidons bear the dead hero to the\npile, and the corpse is covered with the long locks of hair which every\nwarrior in turn, Achilles first, cuts off as an offering to the gods\nbelow. Four chariot-horses, and two dogs \u201cthat had fed at their master\u2019s\nboard,\u201d are slain upon the pile, to follow him, in case he should have\nneed of them, into the dark and unknown country: and last, the twelve\nTrojan captives, according to his barbarous vow, are slaughtered by\nAchilles in person, and laid upon the pile. The winds of heaven are\nsolemnly invoked to fan the flames, which roar and blaze all night; and\nall night Achilles pours copious libations of wine from a golden goblet.\nWith wine also the embers are quenched in the morning, and the bones of\nPatroclus are carefully collected and placed in a golden urn, to await\nthe day, which Achilles foresees close at hand, when they shall be\nburied under one mound with his own.\n\nThere follow the funeral games. First, the chariot-race, in which Diomed\ncarries off an easy victory with the Trojan horses which he captured\nfrom \u00c6neas. An easy victory, because the goddess Minerva not only breaks\nthe pole of Eumelus, his most formidable rival, but hands Diomed back\nhis whip when he drops it: interpreted by our realistic critics to mean,\nthat prudence bids him take a second whip as a reserve. The old\n\u201chorse-tamer,\u201d Nestor, gives his son Antilochus such cunning directions,\nthat he comes in second, though his horses are confessedly the slowest\nof the whole field. Next comes the battle with the c\u0153stus--that\nbarbarous form of boxing-glove, which, far from deadening the force of\nthe blow delivered, made it more damaging and dangerous, inasmuch as the\npadding consisted of thongs of raw ox-hide well hardened. The combat in\nthis case is very unequal, since the giant Epeius speedily fells his\nyounger and lighter antagonist, who is carried almost senseless from the\nlists. The wrestlers are better matched; the skill and subtlety of\nUlysses are a counterpoise to the huge bulk and somewhat inactive\nstrength of Ajax, who lifts his opponent off his feet with ease, but is\nbrought to the ground himself by a dexterous kick upon the ancle-joint.\nAnother fall, in which neither has the advantage, leads to the dividing\nof the prize--though how it was to be divided practically is not so\nclear, since the first prize was a tripod valued at twelve oxen, and the\nsecond a female captive, reckoned to be worth four.[21] The foot-race is\nwon by Ulysses, Minerva interfering for the second time to secure the\nvictory for her favourite, by tripping up the lesser Ajax (son of\nOileus), who was leading. The Greek poet does but refer what we should\ncall an unlucky accident to the agency of heaven. A single combat on\nfoot, with shield and spear, succeeds, the prize for which is the rich\narmour of which Patroclus had spoiled Sarpedon. He who first draws blood\nis to be the winner. Diomed and Ajax Telamon step into the lists, and\nthe combat between the two great champions grows so fierce and hot, that\nthe spectators insist on their being separated, and again the honours\nare adjudged to be equal; although Diomed, who was clearly getting the\nadvantage, receives the chief portion of the divided prize. In the\nquoit-throwing Ajax is beaten easily; and critics have remarked that in\nno single contest does the poet allow him, though a favourite with the\narmy, to be successful. Those who insist upon the allegorical view of\nthe poem, tell us that the lesson is, that brute force is of little\navail without counsel. The archers\u2019 prizes are next contended for, and\nwe have the original of the story which has been borrowed, with some\nmodifications, by many imitators from Virgil\u2019s time downwards, and\nfigures in the history of the English \u2018Clym of the Clough,\u2019 and Tell of\nSwitzerland. Teucer, reputed the most skilful bowman in the whole host,\nonly shoots near enough to cut the cord which ties the dove to the mast,\nwhile Meriones follows the bird with his aim as she soars far into the\nair, and brings her down, pierced through and through, with his arrow.\nBut Meriones had vowed an offering to Apollo \u201cof the silver bow,\u201d which\nTeucer, in the pride of his heart, had neglected. The games are closed\nwith hurling the spear, when the king Agamemnon himself, desirous to pay\nall honour to his great rival\u2019s grief, steps into the arena as a\ncompetitor. With no less grace and dignity Achilles accepts the\ncompliment, but forbids the contest. \u201cO son of Atreus, we know thou dost\nfar surpass us all\u201d--and he hands the prize for his acceptance.\n\nThe anger against Agamemnon is past: but not so the savage wrath against\nHector. Combined with his passionate grief for Patroclus, it amounts to\nmadness. Morning after morning he rises from the restless couch where he\nhas lain thinking of his friend, and lashing the dead corpse afresh to\nhis chariot, drags it furiously thrice round the mound that covers\nPatroclus\u2019 ashes. Twelve days has the body now lain unburied; but Venus\nand Apollo preserve it from decay. Venus sheds over it ambrosial roseate\nunguents, and Apollo covers it with a dark cool cloud. In less\nmythological language, the loathliness of death may not mar its beauty,\nnor the sunbeams breed in it corruption. Even the Olympians are seized\nwith horror and pity. In spite of the remonstrances of his still\nimplacable queen, Jupiter instructs Thetis to visit her son. and soften\nhis cruel obduracy. At the same time he sends Iris to Priam, and\npersuades him to implore Achilles in person to restore the body of his\nson. Accompanied by a single herald, and bearing a rich ransom, the aged\nking passes the Greek lines by night (for Mercury himself becomes his\nguide, disguised in the form of a Greek straggler, and casts a deep\nsleep upon the sentinels). He reaches the tent of Achilles, who has just\nended his evening meal, throws himself at his feet, and kisses \u201cthe\ndreadful murderous hands by which so many of his sons have fallen,\u201d in\nan agony of supplication. He adjures the conqueror, by the thought of\nhis own aged father Peleus--now looking and longing for his return--to\nhave some pity on a bereaved old man, whose son can never return to him\nalive; and at least to give him back the body.\n\n   \u201cAnd for thy father\u2019s sake look pitying down\n    On me, more needing pity: since I bear\n    Such grief as never man on earth hath borne,\n    Who stoop to kiss the hand that slew my son.\u201d\n\nWith the impulsive suddenness which is a part of his character, Achilles\ngives way at once--prepared, indeed, to yield, by his mother\u2019s\nremonstrances. He gives orders to have the body clothed in costly\nraiment, and washed and anointed by the handmaidens; nay, even lifts his\ndead enemy with his own hands, and lays him on a couch. Yet he will not\nlet Priam as yet look upon the corpse, lest at the sight of his grief\nhis own passion should break out afresh. The father spends the night in\nthe tent of his son\u2019s slayer, and there he closes his eyes in sleep for\nthe first time since the day of Hector\u2019s death. In the morning he\nreturns to Troy with his mournful burden, and the funeral rites of\nHector close the poem. The boon which Achilles has granted he makes\ncomplete by the spontaneous offer of twelve days\u2019 truce, that so Troy\nmay bury her dead hero with his rightful honours. The wailings of Priam\nand Hecuba, though naturally expressed, are but commonplace compared\nwith the last tribute of the remorseful Helen:--\n\n   \u201cHector, of all my brethren dearest thou!\n    True, godlike Paris claims me as his wife,\n    Who bore me hither--would I then had died!\n    But twenty years have passed since here I came,\n    And left my native land; yet ne\u2019er from thee\n    I heard one scornful, one degrading word;\n    And when from others I have borne reproach,\n    Thy brothers, sister, or thy brothers\u2019 wives,\n    Or mother (for thy sire was ever kind\n    Even as a father), thou hast checked them still\n    With tender feeling and with gentle words.\n    For thee I weep, and for myself no less,\n    For through the breadth of Troy none love me now,\n    None kindly look on me, but all abhor.\u201d (D.)\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nCONCLUDING REMARKS.\n\n\nThe character of Hector has been very differently estimated. Modern\nwriters upon Homer generally assume that the ancient bard had, as it\nwere, a mental picture of all his great heroes before him, of their\ninner as well as of their outer man, and worked from this in the various\nacts and speeches which he has assigned to each. Probably nothing could\nbe further from the truth. If the poet could be questioned as to his\nimmortal work, and required to give a detailed character of each of his\nchief personages, such as his modern admirers present us with, he would\nmost likely confess that such character as his heroes possess was built\nup by degrees, as occasion called for them to act and speak, and that\nhis own portraits (where they were not derived from the current\ntraditions) rested but little upon any preconceived ideal. It is very\ndifficult to estimate character at all in a work of fiction in which the\nprinciples of conduct are in many respects so different from those of\nour own age. How far even the ablest critics have succeeded in the\nattempt in the case of Hector may be judged from this; that whereas\nColonel Mure speaks of \u201ca turn for vainglorious boasting\u201d as his\ncharacteristic defect,[22] Mr Froude remarks that \u201cwhile Achilles is all\npride, Hector is all modesty.\u201d[23] Both criticisms are from writers of\ncompetent taste and judgment; but both cannot possibly be true. There\ncan be no doubt that Hector makes a considerable number of vaunting\nspeeches in the course of the poem--vaunts which he does not always\ncarry out; but in this respect he differs rather in degree than in\nprinciple from most of the other warriors, Greek as well as Trojan; and\nif the boasts of Achilles are always made good, while Hector\u2019s often\ncome to nothing, that follows almost necessarily from the fact that\nAchilles is the hero of the tale. A boastful tongue and a merciless\nspirit are attributes of the heroic character in Homer: his heroes bear\na singular resemblance in these two points to the \u201cbraves\u201d of the\nAmerican Indians; while they are utterly unlike them in their\nsensitiveness to physical pain, their undisguised horror of death, and\ntheir proneness to give loud expression to both feelings. Without\nattempting to sketch a full-length portrait, which probably Homer\nhimself would not recognise, it may be said that Hector interests us\nchiefly because he is far more human than Achilles, in his weakness as\nwell as in his strength; his honest love for his wife and child, his\npitying condonation of Helen, his half-contemptuous kindness to his weak\nbrother Paris, his hearty and unselfish devotion to his country.\nAchilles is the \u201chero,\u201d indeed, in the classical sense--_i.e._, he is\nthe demi-god, superior to many of the mortal weaknesses which are\npalpable enough in the character of his antagonist: as little\nsusceptible to Hector\u2019s alternations of confidence and panic, as to his\ntender anxieties about his wife and child. The contrast between the two\nis very remarkable; as strong, though of quite a different kind, as that\nbetween the two chief female characters in the poem--Helen, charming\neven in her frailty, attracting us and compelling our admiration in\nspite of our moral judgment; Andromache, the blameless wife and mother,\nwhose charm is the beauty of true womanhood, and whose portrait, as\ndrawn by the poet, bears strong witness by its sweetness and purity to\nthe essential soundness of the domestic relations in the age which he\ndepicts.\n\nThe poem, as we have seen, ends somewhat abruptly. We learn nothing from\nit of the fate of Troy, except so far as we have been taught throughout\nthe tale that the fortunes of the city and people depended wholly upon\nHector. \u201cAchilles\u2019 wrath\u201d was the theme of the song, and now that this\nhas been appeased, we wait for no further catastrophe. Yet, if Achilles\nhas been the hero, it is remarkable that the poet\u2019s parting sympathies\nappear to rest, as those of the reader almost certainly will, with\nHector. It would seem that Homer himself felt something of what he makes\nJupiter express with regard to the Trojans--\u201cThey interest me, though\nthey must needs perish.\u201d The Trojan hero must fall, or the glory of the\nGreek could not be consummated; but the last words of the poem, as they\nrecord his funeral honours, so they express the poet\u2019s regretful\neulogy:--\n\n    \u201cSuch honours paid they to the good knight Hector.\u201d\n\nVirgil, in his \u00c6neid, naturally exalts the glory of Hector, because it\nwas his purpose to trace the origin of the Romans from Troy; but we\nneed not wonder that in later days, when the Homeric legends were worked\nup into tales of Christian chivalry, Hector, and not Achilles, became\nthe model of a Christian knight. When the great Italian poet drew his\ncharacter of Orlando, as a type of chivalry, he had the Trojan hero in\nhis mind.\n\nOne of the earliest and most curious travesties of the Iliad--for it is\nhardly more, though made in all good faith, according to the taste of\nthe times--was the work of an English troubadour, Benedict de St Maur,\nof the time of Henry II. It was reproduced, as a prose romance, in\nLatin, by Guido de Colonna, a Sicilian; but is better known--so far as\nit can be said to be known at all--as the \u2018History of the Warres of the\nGreeks and Trojans,\u2019 by John Lydgate, monk of Bury St Edmunds, first\nprinted in 1513. The writer professedly takes Colonna as his original.\nThe heroes of the Iliad reappear as the knights of modern chivalry; they\nfight on horseback, observe all the rules of medieval courtesy, and\n\u201cfewtre their speres\u201d at each other exactly in the style of the\nCompanions of the Round Table. Agamemnon is very like Arthur, and\nAchilles Sir Lancelot, under other names. But Hector is here also\nplainly the favourite hero. Thersites figures as a dwarf, with all the\nmalice and mischief peculiar, and in some degree permitted, to those\nimaginary types of humanity. The closing lines of Lydgate\u2019s third book\nwill give some idea of the strange transformation which Homer\u2019s story\nundergoes in the hands of our medieval poet, and is a curious instance\nof the way in which the zealous churchman \u201cimproves\u201d his pagan subject.\nHe is describing the funeral rites of Hector:--\n\n   \u201cAnd when Priam in full thrifty wyse\n    Performed hath as ye have heard devyse,\n    Ordained eke, as Guido[24] can you tell,\n    A certain nombre of priestes for to dwell\n    In the temple in their devotions,\n    Continually with devout orisons\n    For the soule of Hector for to pray.\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    To which priestes the kyng gave mansyons,\n    There to abide, and possessyons,\n    The which he hath to them mortysed\n    Perpetually, as ye have heard devysed,\n    And while they kneel, pray, and wake,\n    I caste fully me an end to make\n    Finally of this my thirde booke\n    On my rude manner as I undertooke.\u201d\n\nThe way in which the Homeric characters are modernised in Chaucer and\nDryden, and even in Shakspeare\u2019s \u2018Troilus and Cressida,\u2019 is a deviation\nfrom their originals hardly more excusable, though less absurd, than\nthis of Lydgate\u2019s. They copied, in fact, not from the original at all,\nbut from the medieval corruptions of it. Racine\u2019s tragedies are in a\nhigher vein, and his Iphigenia, though not Homer\u2019s story, does more\njustice to some of Homer\u2019s characters: but after all, as has been well\nobserved, \u201cthey are dressed in the Parisian fashions, with speech and\naction accordingly.\u201d[25]\n\nThe Iliad, as has been already remarked, closes more abruptly than its\nmodern title would seem to justify, for the Tale of Troy is left half\nuntold. Imitators of the great bard followed him, and though their works\nare lost to us, the legends upon which they worked have been reproduced\nby later writers. The poems once known as the \u2018Little Iliad\u2019 and the\n\u2018Sacking of Troy\u2019 have left little more than their names, and some few\nfragments which, do not raise much regret for the loss of the\nremainder; but the leading events of which they treated are preserved in\nthe works of the Greek dramatists and of Virgil. It may not be out of\nplace here to sketch briefly the sequel to Homer\u2019s story.\n\nTroy fell in that tenth year of the siege, though new and remarkable\nallies came to the aid of Priam. From the far north of Thrace came a\nband of Amazons--women-warriors who, in spite of their weaker sex,\nproved more than a match in battle for the men of Greece. Their queen\nPenthesilea was said to be the daughter of the War-god; and under her\nleading, once more the Trojans tried their fortune in the open field,\nnot unsuccessfully, until she too fell by the spear of Achilles.\nProceeding to possess himself of her helmet, as the conqueror\u2019s spoil,\nhe was struck with her remarkable beauty, and stood entranced for some\nmoments in sorrow and admiration. It is the scene from which Tasso\nborrows his story of Clorinda, and which Spenser had in his mind when he\nmakes Sir Artegal, after having unhelmed the fair Britomart in combat,\nlet fall his sword at the sight of her \u201cangel-face\u201d--\n\n   \u201cHis powerless hand, benumbed with secret fear,\n    From his revengefull purpose shronke abacke,\n    And cruel sword out of his fingers slacke\n    Fell down to ground, as if the steel had sence\n    And felt some ruth, or sence his hand did lacke,\n    Or both of them did think obedience\n    To doe to so divine a Beautie\u2019s excellence.\u201d\n            --B. IV. c. vi. st. 21.\n\nThersites--who had by this time forgotten the chastisement inflicted on\nhim by Ulysses for his scurrilous tongue--ventured a jest upon Achilles\u2019\nsensibility, and was struck dead by a blow from the hero\u2019s unarmed\nhand. Next came upon the scene the tall Ethiopian Memnon, son of the\nDawn, a warrior of more than mortal beauty, sent either from Egypt or\nfrom the king of Assyria (for the legends vary), with a contingent of\nfierce negro warriors, who carried slaughter into the Greek ranks, until\nMemnon too fell by the hand of the same irresistible antagonist. These\nwere only brief respites for the doomed city. But it was not to fall by\nthe hand of Achilles. Before its day of destruction came, the Greek hero\nhad met with the fate which he himself foresaw--which had been\nprophesied for him alike by his mother the sea-goddess, by the wondrous\nutterance of his horse Xanthus, and by the dying words of Hector. An\narrow from Paris found the single vulnerable spot in his right heel, and\nstretched him where he had slain his Trojan enemy--before the Sc\u00e6an\ngate. But his death, according to the legends, was no more like that of\ncommon mortals than his life had been. He does not go down into those\ngloomy regions where the ghosts of his friend Patroclus and his enemy\nHector wander. It was not death, but a translation. The Greeks had\nprepared for him a magnificent funeral pile, but the body of the hero\nsuddenly disappeared. His mother Thetis conveyed it away to the island\nof Leuk\u00e8 in the Euxine Sea, to enjoy in that seclusion a new and\nperpetual life. So early is the legend which the romance of Christendom\nadopted for so many of its favourites--notably for the English Arthur,\nborne by the three mysterious queens to\n\n    \u201cThe island valley of Avilion,\u201d\n\nwhere, it was long said and believed, he lay either in a charmed sleep\nor a passionless immortality. One legend ran that the Greek hero, in his\nhappy island, was favoured with the society of Helen, whose matchless\nbeauty he had much desired to see.\n\nHis wondrous shield and armour--the masterpieces of Vulcan--were left by\nThetis as a prize for \u201cthe bravest of the Greeks,\u201d and became almost as\nfatal a source of discord as the golden apple which had been labelled\nfor \u201cthe fairest.\u201d Ulysses and Ajax were the most distinguished\nclaimants, and when, as before, counsel was preferred to strength, Ajax\nwent mad with vexation, and fell upon his own sword. Ulysses handed on\nthe coveted armour to its rightful inheritor, the young Neoptolemus, son\nof Achilles, who, in accordance with an oracle, had been sent for to\ntake Troy. Still the city held out, secure so long as the sacred image\nof Minerva, the \u201cPalladium,\u201d a gift from Jupiter himself, remained in\nthe citadel: until Ulysses broke the spell by entering within the walls\nin disguise, and carrying it off. One quick eye discovered the venturous\nGreek, through his rags and self-inflicted wounds: Helen recognised him;\nbut she was weary of her guilty life, and became an excusable traitress\nin favour of her lawful husband. It was again the fertile brain of\nUlysses which conceived the stratagem of the wooden horse; and when the\ncuriosity of the Trojans (against all ordinary probabilities, it must be\nconfessed) dragged it inside the walls, the armed warriors whom it\ncontained issued forth in the night, and opened the gates to their\ncomrades.\n\nThe details of the sack of the city are neither more nor less horrible\nthan similar scenes which are unhappily too historical. Priam is slain\nat the altar of his house; his family either share his fate, or are\ncarried into captivity. Of the contradictory legends as to the fate of\n\u201cHector\u2019s Andromache\u201d--as in Virgil\u2019s great poem she pathetically calls\nherself--the reader will gladly choose, with that poet, the least\npainful version, which leaves her settled at Buthrotus in Epirus, in a\npeaceful retirement full of gentle regrets, as the wife of Hector\u2019s\nbrother Helenus.\n\nOf Helen and Menelaus we shall hear more in Homer\u2019s tale of the\nWanderings of Ulysses. He says nothing of the scene which the later\ndramatists give us, by no means inconsistent with his own portrait of\nthe pair, when at the taking of the city the outraged husband rushes\nupon the adulteress with uplifted sword, and drops his weapon at the\nsight of her well-remembered and matchless beauty. For the miserable\nsequel of Agamemnon\u2019s story we may refer also to the Odyssey. Few of the\nGreek heroes returned home in peace. They had insulted the gods of Troy,\nand they were cursed with toilsome wanderings and long banishment like\nUlysses, or met with a worse fate still. Diomed did not indeed leave his\nwife \u00c6giale a heart-broken widow, as Dione in her anger had predicted,\nbut found on his return that she had consoled herself with another lover\nin his absence, and narrowly escaped assassination by her hand. Teucer\nwas refused a home by his father, because he did not bring his brother\nAjax back with him to the old man. The lesser Ajax was wrecked and\ndrowned on his homeward voyage. Fate spared Nestor, old as he was, to\nreturn to his stronghold at Pylos; but his son Antilochus had fallen in\nthe flower of his age on the plains of Troy. The names of many of the\nwanderers were preserved in the colonies which they founded along the\ncoasts of Greece and Italy, and the heroes of the great Siege of Troy\nspread its fame over all the then known world.\n\n\n                           END OF THE ILIAD.\n\n\n           PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n                                 HOMER\n\n\n                              THE ODYSSEY\n\n                                BY THE\n\n                      REV. W. LUCAS COLLINS, M.A.\n\n                               AUTHOR OF\n                \u2018ETONIANA,\u2019 \u2018THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS,\u2019 ETC.\n\n                      WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS\n\n                         EDINBURGH AND LONDON\n                               MDCCCLXX\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                                    PAGE\n\nINTRODUCTION,                                                          1\n\nCHAP.    I. PENELOPE AND HER SUITORS,                                  9\n\n  \u201c     II. TELEMACHUS GOES IN QUEST OF HIS FATHER,                   26\n\n  \u201c    III. ULYSSES WITH CALYPSO AND THE PH\u00c6ACIANS,                   43\n\n  \u201c     IV. ULYSSES TELLS HIS STORY TO ALCINOUS,                      65\n\n  \u201c      V. THE TALE CONTINUED--THE VISIT TO THE SHADES,              78\n\n  \u201c     VI. ULYSSES\u2019 RETURN TO ITHACA,                                89\n\n  \u201c     VII. THE RETURN OF TELEMACHUS FROM SPARTA,                    95\n\n  \u201c   VIII. ULYSSES REVISITS HIS PALACE,                             100\n\n  \u201c     IX. THE DAY OF RETRIBUTION,                                  109\n\n  \u201c      X. THE RECOGNITION BY PENELOPE,                             116\n\n  \u201c     XI. CONCLUDING REMARKS,                                      125\n\n\n\n\nIt has been thought desirable in these pages to use the Latin names of\nthe Homeric deities and heroes, as more familiar to English ears. As,\nhowever, most modern translators have followed Homer\u2019s Greek\nnomenclature, it may be convenient here to give both.\n\n        Zeus           =  Jupiter.\n        Her\u00e8           =  Juno.\n        Ar\u0113s           =  Mars.\n        Poseid\u014dn       =  Neptune.\n        Pallas Athen\u00e8  =  Minerva.\n        Aphrodit\u00e8      =  Venus.\n        Hephaistos     =  Vulcan.\n        Hermes         =  Mercury.\n        Artemis        =  Diana.\n\n      *       *       *       *       *\n\n        Odysseus       =  Ulysses.\n        Aias           =  Ajax.\n\nThe passages quoted, unless otherwise specified, are from the admirable\ntranslation of Mr Worsley.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nThe poem of the Odyssey is treated in these pages as the work of a\nsingle author, and that author the same as the composer of the Iliad. It\nwould be manifestly out of place, in a volume which does not profess to\nbe written for critical scholars, to discuss a question on which they\nare so far from being agreed. But it may be satisfactory to assure the\nreader who has neither leisure nor inclination to enter into the\ncontroversy, that in accepting, as we do, the Odyssey as from the same\n\u201cHomer\u201d to whom we owe the Tale of Troy, he may fortify himself by the\nauthority of many accomplished scholars who have carefully examined the\nquestion. Though none of the incidents related in the Iliad are\ndistinctly referred to in the Odyssey--a point strongly urged by those\nwho would assign the poems to different authors--and therefore the one\ncannot fairly be regarded as a sequel to the other, yet there is no\nimportant discrepancy, either in the facts previously assumed, or in the\ntreatment of such characters as appear upon the scene in both.\n\nThe character of the two poems is, indeed, essentially different. The\nIliad is a tale of the camp and the battle-field: the Odyssey combines\nthe romance of travel with that of domestic life. The key-note of the\nIliad is glory: that of the Odyssey is rest. This was amongst the\nreasons which led one of the earliest of Homer\u2019s critics to the\nconclusion that the Odyssey was the work of his old age. In both poems\nthe interest lies in the situations and the descriptions, rather than in\nwhat we moderns call the \u201cplot.\u201d This latter is not a main consideration\nwith the poet, and he has no hesitation in disclosing his catastrophe\nbeforehand. The interest, so far as this point is concerned, is also\nweakened for the modern reader by the intervention throughout of\nsupernatural agents, who, at the most critical turns of the story, throw\ntheir irresistible weight into the scale. Yet, in spite of this, the\ninterest of the Odyssey is intensely human. Greek mythology and Oriental\nromance are large ingredients in the poem, but its men and women are\ndrawn by a master\u2019s hand from the actual life; and, since in the two\nthousand years between our own and Homer\u2019s day nothing has changed so\nlittle as human nature, therefore very much of it is still a story of\nto-day.\n\nThe poem before us is the tale of the wanderings and adventures of\nOdysseus--or Ulysses, as the softer tongue of the Latins preferred to\ncall him--on his way home from the siege of Troy to his island-kingdom\nof Ithaca. The name Odysseus has been variously interpreted. Homer\nhimself, who should be the best authority, tells us that it was given to\nhim by his grandfather Autolycus to signify \u201cthe child of hate.\u201d Others\nhave interpreted it to mean \u201csuffering;\u201d and some ingenious scholars see\nin it only the ancient form of a familiar sobriquet by which the hero\nwas known, \u201cthe little one,\u201d or \u201cthe dwarf,\u201d--a conjecture which derives\nsome support from the fact that the Tyrrhenians knew him under that\ndesignation. It may be remembered that in the Iliad he is described as\nbearing no comparison in stature with the stalwart forms of Agamemnon\nand Menelaus; and it is implied in the description that there was some\nwant of proportion in his figure, since he appeared nobler than Menelaus\nwhen both sat down. But in the Odyssey itself there appears no reference\nto any natural defect of any kind. His character in this poem\ncorresponds perfectly with that which is disclosed in the Iliad. There,\nhe is the leading spirit of the Greeks when in council. Scarcely second\nto Achilles or Diomed in personal prowess, his advice and opinion are\nlistened to with as much respect as those of the veteran Nestor. In the\nIliad, too, he is, as he is called in the present poem, \u201cthe man of many\ndevices.\u201d His accomplishments cover a larger field than those of any\nother hero. Achilles only can beat him in speed of foot; he is as good\nan archer as Ajax Oileus or Teucer; he throws Ajax the Great in the\nwrestling-match, in spite of his superior strength, by a happy use of\nscience, and divides with him the prize of victory. To him, as the\nworthiest successor of Achilles--on the testimony of the Trojan\nprisoners, who declared that he had wrought them most harm of any--the\narmour of that great hero was awarded at his death. He is not tragic\nenough to fill the first place in the Iliad, but we are quite prepared\nto find him the hero of a story of travel and adventure like the\nOdyssey, in which the grand figure of Achilles would be entirely out of\nplace.\n\nThe Odyssey has been pronounced, by a high classical authority, to be\nemphatically a lady\u2019s book. \u201cThe Iliad,\u201d says the great Bentley, \u201cHomer\nmade for men, and the Odyssey for the other sex.\u201d This opinion somewhat\ncontradicts the criticism of an older and greater master--Aristotle--who\ndefines the Odyssey as being \u201cethic and complex,\u201d while the Iliad is\n\u201cpathetic and simple.\u201d Yet it was perhaps some such notion of the\nfitness of things which made F\u00e9n\u00e9lon\u2019s adaptation of Homer\u2019s story, \u2018The\nAdventures of Telemachus in search of Ulysses,\u2019 so popular a French\ntext-book in ladies\u2019 schools a century ago. It is certain, also, that\nthe allusions in our modern literature, and the subjects of modern\npictures, are drawn from the Odyssey even more frequently than from the\nIliad, although the former has never been so generally read in our\nschools and colleges. Circe and the Sirens, Scylla and Charybdis, have\npointed more morals than any incidents in the Siege of Troy. Turner\u2019s\npictures of Nausicaa and her Maidens, the Gardens of Alcinous, the\nCyclops addressed by Ulysses, the Song of the Sirens--all amongst our\nnational heirlooms of art--assume a fair acquaintance with the later\nHomeric fable on the part of the public for whom they were painted. The\nsecret of this greater popularity may lie in the fact, that while the\nadventures in the Odyssey have more of the romantic and the imaginative,\nthe heroes are less heroic--have more of the common human type about\nthem--than those of the Iliad. The colossal figure of Achilles in his\nwrath does not affect us so nearly as the wandering voyager with his\nstrange adventures, his hairbreadth escapes, and his not over-scrupulous\ndevices.\n\nTo our English sympathies the Odyssey appeals strongly for another\nreason--it is a tale of voyage and discovery. \u201cIt is,\u201d as Dean Alford\nsays, \u201cof all poems a poem of the sea.\u201d In the Iliad the poet never\nmissed an opportunity of letting us know that--whoever he was and\nwherever he was born--he knew the sea well, and had a seaman\u2019s tastes.\nBut there his tale confined him chiefly to the plain before Troy, and\nsuch opportunities presented themselves but rarely. In the Odyssey we\nroam from sea to sea throughout the narrative, and the restless hero\nseems never so much at home as when he is on shipboard. It is not\nwithout reason that the most ancient works of art which bear the figure\nof Ulysses represent him not as a warrior but as a sailor.\n\nThe Tale of Troy, as has been already said, embraces in its whole range\nthree decades of years. It is with the last ten that the Odyssey has to\ndo; and as in the Iliad, though the siege itself had consumed ten years,\nit is with the last year only that the poet deals; so in this second\ngreat poem also, the main action occupies no more than the last six\nweeks of the third and concluding decade.\n\nBetween the Iliad and the Odyssey there is an interval of events, not\nrelated in either poem, but which a Greek audience of the poet\u2019s own day\nwould readily supply for themselves out of a store of current legend\nquite familiar to their minds, and embodied in more than one ancient\npoem now lost to us.[26] Troy, after the long siege, had fallen at last;\nbut not to Achilles. For him the dying prophecy of Hector had been soon\nfulfilled, and an arrow from the bow of Paris had stretched him in\ndeath, like his noble enemy, \u201cbefore the Sc\u00e6an gates.\u201d It was his son\nNeoptolemus, \u201cthe red-haired,\u201d to whom the oracles pointed as the\ndestined captor of the city. Ulysses went back to Greece to fetch him,\nand even handed over to the young hero, on his arrival, the armour of\nhis father--his own much-valued prize. In that armour Neoptolemus led\nthe Greeks to the storm and sack of the city by night, while the Trojans\nwere either asleep or holding deep carousal.\n\nIt has been conjectured by some that, under the name of Ulysses, the\npoet has but described, with more or less of that licence to which he\nhad a double claim as poet and as traveller, his own wanderings and\nadventures by land and sea. It has been argued, in a treatise of some\ningenuity,[27] that the poet, whoever he was, was himself a native of\nthe island in which he places the home of his hero. There is certainly\none passage which reads very much like the circumstantial and loving\ndescription which a poet would give of his sea-girt birthplace, with\nevery nook of which he would have been familiar from his childhood. It\noccurs in the scene where Ulysses is at last landed on the coast of\nIthaca, which he is slow to recognise until his divine guide points out\nto him the different localities within sight:--\n\n      \u201cThis is the port of sea-king Phorcys old,\n      And this the olive at the haven\u2019s brow.\n      Yonder the deep dark lovely cave behold,\n      Shrine of the Na\u00efad-nymphs! These shades enfold\n      The stone-roofed bower, wherein thou oft hast stood,\n      While to the Nymphs thy frequent vows uprolled,\n      Steam of choice hecatombs and offerings good.\n    Neritus hill stands there, high-crowned with waving wood.\u201d[28]\n\nAs conjecture only all such theories must remain; but it may at least be\nsafely believed that the author had himself visited some of the strange\nlands which he describes, with whatever amount of fabulous ornament he\nmay have enriched his tale, and it has a certain interest for the reader\nto entertain the possibility of a personal narrative thus underlying the\nromance.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ODYSSEY.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nPENELOPE AND HER SUITORS.\n\n\nThe surviving heroes of the great expedition against Troy, after long\nwanderings, have at length reached their homes, with one\nexception--Ulysses has not been heard of in his island-kingdom of\nIthaca. Ten years have nearly passed since the fall of Troy, and still\nhis wife Penelope, and his aged father Laertes, and his young son\nTelemachus, now growing up to manhood, keep weary watch for the hero\u2019s\nreturn. There is, moreover, a twofold trouble in the house. It is not\nonly anxiety for an absent husband, but the perplexity caused by a crowd\nof importunate suitors for her hand, which vexes the soul of Penelope\nfrom day to day. The young nobles of Ithaca and its dependent islands\nhave for many years flocked to the palace to seek the hand of her whom\nthey consider as virtually a widowed queen. It is to no purpose that\nshe professes her own firm belief that Ulysses still survives: she has\nno kind of proof of his existence, and the suitors demand of her\nthat--in accordance with what would appear the custom of the\ncountry--she shall make choice of some one among them to take the lost\nhero\u2019s place, and enjoy all the rights of sovereignty. How far the\nlovers were attracted by the wealth and position of the lady, and how\nfar by the force of her personal charms, is a point somewhat hard to\ndecide. The Roman poet Horace imputes to them the less romantic motive.\nThey were, he says, of that class of prudent wooers--\n\n    \u201cWho prized good living more than ladies\u2019 love;\u201d\n\nand he even hints that Penelope\u2019s knowledge of their real sentiments\nhelped to account for her obduracy. But Horace, we must remember, was a\nsatirist by trade. A mere prosaic reader might be tempted to raise the\nquestion whether the personal charms of Penelope, irresistible as they\nmight have been when Ulysses first left her for the war, must not have\nbeen somewhat impaired during the twenty years of his absence; and\nwhether it was possible for a widow of that date (especially with a\ngrown-up son continually present as a memento) to inspire such very\nardent admiration. These arithmetical critics have always been the pests\nof poetry. One very painstaking antiquarian--Jacob Bryant--in the course\nof his studies on the Iliad, made the discovery, by a comparison of\nmythological dates, that Helen herself must have been nearly a hundred\nyears old at the taking of Troy. But the question of age has been\nunanimously voted impertinent by all her modern admirers: she still\nshines in our fancy with\n\n    \u201cThe starlike beauty of immortal eyes\u201d\n\nwhich the Laureate saw in his \u2018Dream of Fair Women.\u2019 The heroic legends\ntake no count of years. Woman is there beautiful by divine right of sex,\nunless in those few special instances in which, for the purposes of the\nstory, particular persons are necessarily represented as old and\ndecrepit. Nor is there any ground for supposing that the suitors of\nPenelope, like the courtiers of Queen Elizabeth, persisted in\nattributing to her fictitious charms. She is evidently not less\nbeautiful in the poet\u2019s eyes than in theirs. As beauty has been happily\nsaid to be, after all, \u201cthe lover\u2019s gift,\u201d so also the bestowal of it\nupon whom he will must be allowed to be the privilege of the poet. The\nisland-queen herself says, indeed, that her beauty had fled when Ulysses\nleft her, and could only be restored by his return; but this disclaimer\nfrom the lips of a loving and mourning wife only makes her more\ncharming, and she is not the only woman, ancient or modern, who has\nborrowed an additional fascination from her tears.\n\nThe suitors of Penelope, strange to say, are living at free quarters in\nthe palace of the absent Ulysses. Telemachus is too young, apparently,\nto assert his rights as master of the house on his own or his mother\u2019s\nbehalf. If the picture be true to the life--and there is no good reason\nto suppose it otherwise--we must assume an age of rude licence even in\nthe midst of considerable civilisation, when, unless a king or chief\ncould hold his own by the strong hand, there was small chance of his\nrights being respected. A partial explanation may also lie in the fact\nthat the wealth of the king was regarded as in some sort public\nproperty, and that to keep open house for all whose rank entitled them\nto sit at his table was probably a popular branch of the royal\nprerogative. Telemachus is an only son, and he and his mother have\napparently no near kinsmen to avenge any wrong or insult that may be\noffered. There is, besides, somewhat of weakness and tameness in his\ncharacter, more than befits the son of such a father. He is a\nhome-nurtured youth, of a gentle and kindly nature, a dutiful and\naffectionate son; but his temperament is far too easy for the rude and\ntroublous times in which his lot is cast, and the roystering crew who\nprofess at least to be the wooers of Penelope have not been slow to find\nit out. Some kindly critics (\u201cChristopher North\u201d among the number) have\nrefused to see any of these shortcomings in the young prince\u2019s\ncharacter; but his father Ulysses saw them plainly. For thus it is he\nspeaks, at a later period of the tale, under his disguise of a\nmendicant:--\n\n   \u201cHad I but youth as I have heart, or were\n    The blameless brave Ulysses, or his son,\n    Then let a stranger strike me headless there,\n    If against any I leave revenge undone!\u201d\n\nBut this is anticipating somewhat too much. We must return to the\nopening of the poem.\n\nThe fate of Ulysses, so far as any knowledge of it has reached his wife\nand son, lies yet in mystery. Only the gods know--and perhaps it were as\nwell for Penelope not to know--in what unworthy thraldom he is held. He\nhas incurred the anger of the great Sea-god, and therefore he is still\nforbidden to reach his home. He has lain captive now for seven long\nyears in Ogygia, the enchanted realm of Calypso--\n\n        \u201cGirded of ocean in an island-keep,\n    An island clothed with trees, the navel of the deep.\n\n      \u201cThere dwells the child of Atlas, who can sound\n      All seas, and eke doth hold the pillars tall\n      Which keep the skies asunder from the ground.\n      There him, still sorrowing, she doth aye enthral,\n      Weaving serene enticements to forestal\n      The memory of his island-realm.\u201d\n\nBut the goddess of wisdom, who was his protecting genius throughout the\nperils of the great siege, and by whose aid, as we have seen in the\nIliad, he has distanced so many formidable competitors in the race for\nglory, has not forgotten her favourite. The opening scene of the Odyssey\nshows us the gods in council on Olympus. Neptune alone is absent; he is\ngone to feast, like Jupiter in the Iliad, with those mysterious people,\nthe far-off \u00c6thiopians--\n\n   \u201cExtreme of men, who diverse ways retire,\n    Some to the setting, some the rising sun.\u201d\n\nMinerva takes the opportunity of his absence to remind the Father of the\ngods of the hard fate of Ulysses, so unworthy of a hero who has deserved\nso well both of gods and men. It is agreed to send Mercury, the\nmessenger of the Immortals, to the island where Calypso holds Ulysses\ncaptive in her toils, to announce to him that the day of his return\ndraws near. Minerva herself, meanwhile, will go to Ithaca, and put\nstrength into the heart of his son Telemachus, that he may rid his house\nof this hateful brood of revellers, and set forth to make search for his\nfather. The passage in which the poet describes her visit is a fine one,\nand it has been finely rendered by Mr Worsley:--\n\n     \u201cSo ending, underneath her feet she bound\n      Her faery sandals of ambrosial gold,\n      Which o\u2019er the waters and the solid ground\n      Swifter than wind have borne her from of old;\n      Then on the iron-pointed spear laid hold,\n      Heavy and tall, wherewith she smites the brood\n      Of heroes till her anger waxes cold;\n      Then from Olympus swept in eager mood,\n    And with the island-people in the court she stood\n\n     \u201cFast by the threshold of the outer gate\n      Of brave Odysseus: in her hand she bore\n      The iron-pointed spear, heavy and great,\n      And, waiting as a guest-friend at the door,\n      Of Mentes, Taphian chief, the likeness wore;\n      There found the suitors, who beguiled with play\n      The hours, and sat the palace-gates before\n      On hides of oxen which themselves did slay--\n    Haughty of mien they sat, and girt with proud array.\u201d\n\nAs the young prince sits thus, an unwilling host in his father\u2019s hall,\nmeditating, says the poet, whether or no some day that father may return\nsuddenly and take vengeance on these invaders of his rights, against\nwhom he himself seems powerless, he lifts his eyes and sees a stranger\nstanding at the gate. With simple and high-bred courtesy--the courtesy\nof the old Bible patriarchs, and even now practised by the Orientals,\nthough the march of modern civilisation has left little remnant of it in\nour western isles--he hastes to bid the stranger welcome, on the simple\nground that he is a stranger, and will hear no word of his errand until\nthe rights of hospitality have been paid. Eager as he is to hear\npossible news of his father, he restrains his anxiety to question his\nguest. Not until the handmaidens have brought water in the silver ewers,\nand the herald, and the carver, and the dame of the pantry (it is a\nright royal establishment, if somewhat rude) have each done their office\nto supply the stranger\u2019s wants, does Telemachus ask him a single\nquestion. But when the suitors have ended their feast, they call for\nmusic and song. They compel Phemius, the household bard, to make mirth\nfor them. Then, while he plies his voice and lyre for their\nentertainment, the son of Ulysses whispers aside with his visitor. Who\nis he, and whence does he come? Is he a friend of his father\u2019s? For many\na guest, and none unwelcome, had come to those halls, as the son well\nknows, in _his_ day. Above all, does he bring news of _him_? Then the\ndisguised goddess tells her story, with a circumstantial minuteness of\ninvention which befits wisdom when she condescends to falsehood:--\n\n                  \u201cKnow, my name is hight\n      Mentes, the son of brave Anchialus,\n      And sea-famed Taphos is my regal right;\n      And with my comrades am I come to-night\n      Hither, in sailing o\u2019er the wine-dark sea\n      To men far off, who stranger tongues indite.\n      For copper am I bound to Temes\u00e8,\n    And in my bark I bring sword-steel along with me.\n\n     \u201cMoored is my ship beyond the city walls,\n      Under the wooded cape, within the bay.\n      We twain do boast, each in the other\u2019s halls,\n      Our fathers\u2019 friendship from an ancient day.\n      Hero Laertes ask, and he will say.\u201d\n\nBut of Ulysses\u2019 present fate the guest declares he knows nothing; only\nhe has a presentiment that he is detained somewhere in an unwilling\ncaptivity, but that, \u201cthough he be bound with chains of iron,\u201d he will\nsurely find his way home again. But in any case, as his father\u2019s friend,\nthe supposed Mentes bids Telemachus take heart and courage, and act\nmanfully for himself. Let him give this train of riotous suitors fair\nwarning to quit the palace, and waste his substance no more; let his\nmother Penelope go back to her own father\u2019s house (if she desires to wed\nagain), and make her choice and hold her wedding-banquet there; and for\nhis own part, let him at once set sail and make inquiry for his father\nround the coasts of Greece. It may be that Nestor of Pylos, or Menelaus\nof Sparta--the last returned of the chiefs of the expedition--can give\nhim some tidings. If he can only hear that Ulysses is yet alive, then he\nmay well endure to wait his return with patience; if assured of his\ndeath, it will befit him to take due vengeance on these his enemies. The\ndivine visitor even hints a reproach of Telemachus\u2019 present\ninactivity:--\n\n   \u201cNo more, with thews like these, to weakness cling.\n    Hast thou not heard divine Orestes\u2019 fame,\n    Who slew the secret slayer of the king\n    His father, and achieved a noble name?\n    Thou also, friend, to thine own strength lay claim--\n    Comely thou art and tall--that men may speak\n    Thy prowess, and their children speak the same.\u201d\n\nThe young prince duteously accepts the counsel, as from his father\u2019s\nfriend, and prays his guest to tarry a while. But Minerva, her mission\naccomplished, suddenly changes her shape, spreads wings, and vanishes.\nThen Telemachus recognises the goddess, and feels a new life and\nspirit born within him. If we choose to admit an allegorical\ninterpretation--more than commonly tempting, as must be confessed, in\nthis particular case--it is the advent of Wisdom and Discretion to the\nconscious heart of the youth, hitherto too little awakened to its\nresponsibilities.\n\nTelemachus returns to his place among the revellers a new man. They are\nstill listening to the minstrel, Phemius, who chants a lay of the return\nof the Greek chiefs from Troy, and the sufferings inflicted on them\nduring their homeward voyage by the vengeance of the gods. The sound\nreaches Penelope where she sits apart with her wise maidens, like the\nmother of Sisera, in her \u201cupper chamber\u201d--the \u201cbower\u201d of the ladies of\nmedi\u00e6val chivalry. She comes down the stair, and stands on the threshold\nof the banqueting-hall, attracted by the song. But the subject is too\npainful. She calls the bard to her, and begs him, for her sake, to\nchoose some other theme. We must not be too angry with Telemachus\nbecause, in the first flush of his newly-awakened sense of the\nresponsibilities of his position, he uses language, in addressing his\nmother, which to our ears has a sound of harshness and reproach. He bids\nher not presume to set limits to the inspiration of the bard--the\nnoblest theme is ever the best. He reminds her that woman\u2019s kingdom is\nthe loom and the distaff, and that the rule over men in his father\u2019s\nhouse now belongs to him. Viewed with reference to the tone of the age\nas regarded the duties of women,--compared with the parting charge of\nHector in the Iliad to the wife he loved so tenderly, and even with a\nhigher example in Scripture,--there is nothing startling or repulsive in\nsuch language from a son to his mother. To the young prince in his new\nmood, while the counsels of Minerva were yet ringing in his ears, the\nabsence and the sufferings of his father might well seem the only theme\non which he could endure to hear the minstrel descant; it was of this,\nhe feels, that he needed to be continually reminded. And if hitherto he\nhas allowed this riotous company to assume that, in the absence of\nUlysses, the government of his house has rested in the weak hands of a\nwoman, it shall be so no longer. He will take his father\u2019s place.\n\nThe mother sees the change in her son\u2019s temper with some surprise--we\nmay suppose, with somewhat mingled feelings of approval and\nmortification. The boy has grown into a man on the sudden. The poet\ngives us but a single word as any clue to the effect upon Penelope of\nthis evidently unaccustomed outburst of self-assertion on the part of\nTelemachus. \u201cAstonished,\u201d he says, she withdraws at once to her upper\nchamber, and there weeps her sorrows to sleep. Telemachus himself\naddresses the assembled company in a tone which is evidently as new to\ntheir ears as to those of his mother. He bids them, with a haughty\ncourtesy, feast their fill to-night; to-morrow he will summon (as is the\ncustom of the Homeric princes) a council of the heads of the people, and\nthere he will give them all public warning to quit his father\u2019s house,\nand feast--if they needs must feast--in each other\u2019s houses, at their\nown cost. If they refuse, and still make this riot of an absent man\u2019s\nwealth, he appeals from men to \u201cthe gods who live for ever\u201d for a sure\nand speedy vengeance.\n\nThe careless revellers mark the change in the young man as instantly as\nPenelope. For a few moments they bite their lips in silence--\u201cwondering\nthat he spake so bold.\u201d The first to answer him is Antinous, the most\nprominent ringleader of the confraternity of suitors. His character is\nvery like that of the worst stamp of the \u201cCavalier\u201d of the days of our\nown Charles II. Brave, bold, and insolent, there is yet a reckless\ngaiety and a ready wit about him which would have made him at once a\nfavourite in that unprincipled court. He adds to these characteristics a\nquality of which he might, unhappily, have also found a high example\nthere--that of ingratitude. He is bound by strong ties of obligation to\nthe house of Ulysses; his father had come in former days to seek an\nasylum with the Chief of Ithaca from the vengeance of the Thesprotians,\nand had been kindly entertained by him until his death. The son now\nanswers Telemachus with a taunting compliment upon the new character in\nwhich he has just come out. \u201cHe means to claim for himself the\nsovereignty of the island, as his father\u2019s heir, no doubt; but the gods\nforbid that Ithaca should ever come under the rule of so fierce a\ndespot!\u201d Telemachus makes answer that he will at all events rule his\nfather\u2019s house. Upon this, Eurynomus, another leading spirit among the\nrivals--a smoother-tongued and more cautious individual--soothes the\nangry youth with what seems a plausible recognition of his rights, in\norder that he may get an answer to a question on which he feels an\ninterest not unmixed, as we may easily understand, with some secret\napprehension. \u201cWho was this traveller from over sea? and--did he happen\nto bring any news of Ulysses?\u201d But Telemachus has learnt subtlety as\nwell as wisdom from the disguised goddess. He gives the name assumed by\nhis visitor, Mentes, an old friend of the house. But as to his father\u2019s\nreturn, the oracles of the gods and the reports of men all agree in\npronouncing it to have now become hopeless. So the revel is renewed till\nnightfall; and while the feasters go off to their own quarters somewhere\nnear at hand, Telemachus retires to his chamber (separate, apparently,\nfrom the main building), where his old nurse Eurycleia tends him with a\ncareful affection, as though he were still a child, folding and hanging\nup the vest of fine linen which he takes off when he lies down to sleep,\nand drawing the bolt of the chamber door through its silver ring when\nshe leaves him.\n\nThe council of notables is summoned for the morrow. No such meeting has\nbeen held since the departure of Ulysses for Troy. As Telemachus passes\nto take his place there, all men remark a new majesty in his looks.\n\n      \u201cSo when the concourse to the full was grown,\n      He lifted in his hand the steely spear,\n      And to the council moved, but not alone,\n      For as he walked his swift dogs followed near.\n      Also Minerva did with grace endear\n      His form, that all the people gazed intent\n      And wondered, while he passed without a peer.\n      Straight to his father\u2019s seat his course he bent,\n    And the old men gave way in reverence as he went.\u201d\n\nHe makes his passionate protest before them all against the insufferable\nwaste of his household by this crew of revellers, and against their own\nsupineness in offering him no aid to dislodge them. Antinous rises to\nanswer him, beginning, as before, with an ironical compliment--\u201cthe\nyoung orator\u2019s language is as sublime as his spirit.\u201d But the fault, he\nbegs to assure him, lies not with the suitors, but with the queen\nherself. She has been playing fast and loose with her lovers, deluding\nthem, for these three years past, with vain hopes and false promises.\nShe had, indeed, been practising a kind of pious fraud upon them. She\nhad set up a mighty loom, in which she wrought diligently to complete,\nas she professed, a winding-sheet of delicate texture for her husband\u2019s\nfather, the aged Laertes, against the day of his death. Not until this\nsad task was finished, she entreated of them, let her be asked to choose\na new bridegroom. To so much forbearance they had all assented; but lo!\nthey had lately discovered that what she wrought by day she carefully\nunwound by night, so that the task promised to be an endless one. Some\nof the handmaidens (who had found their own lovers, too, amongst their\nroyal mistress\u2019s many suitors) had betrayed her secret. Antinous is\ngallant enough to add to this recital of Penelope\u2019s craft warm praises\nof the queen herself, even giving her full credit for the bright woman\u2019s\nwit which had so long baffled them all.\n\n                            \u201cMatchless skill\n    To weave the splendid web; sagacious thought,\n    And shrewdness such as never fame ascribed\n    To any beauteous Greek of ancient days,\n    Tyro, Mycene, or Alcmene, loved\n    Of Jove himself, all whom th\u2019 accomplished queen\n    Transcends in knowledge--ignorant alone\n    That, wooed long time, she should at last be won.\u201d--(Cowper.)\n\nBut they will now be put off no longer--she must make her choice, or\nthey will never leave the house so long as she remains there unespoused.\nTelemachus indignantly refuses to send his mother home to her father;\nand repeats his passionate appeal to the gods for vengeance against the\nwrongs which he is himself helpless to deal with. At once an omen from\nheaven seems to betoken that the appeal is heard and accepted. Two\neagles are seen flying over the heads of the crowd assembled in the\nmarketplace, where they suddenly wheel round, and tear each other\nfuriously with beak and talons. The soothsayer is at hand to interpret;\nthe aged Halitherses, who reminds them all how he had foretold, when\nUlysses first left his own shores for Troy, the twenty years that would\nelapse before his return. Now, he sees by this portent, the happy day\nis near at hand; nay, in his zeal for his master\u2019s house he goes so far\nas to urge the assembled people to take upon themselves at once the\npunishment of these traitors. One of the suitors mocks at the old man\u2019s\nauguries, and threatens him for his interference. The prophet is\nsilenced; and Telemachus, finding no support from the assembly, asks but\nfor a ship and crew to be furnished him, that he may set forth in search\nof his father. One indignant voice, among the apathetic crowd, is raised\nin the young prince\u2019s defence: it is that of Mentor, to whom Ulysses had\nintrusted the guardianship of his rights in his absence. His name has\npassed into a synonym for all prudent guardians and moral counsellors,\nchiefly in consequence of F\u00e9n\u00e9lon\u2019s didactic tale of \u2018T\u00e9l\u00e9maque,\u2019\nalready mentioned, in which the adventures of the son of Ulysses were\n\u201cimproved,\u201d with elaborate morals, for the benefit of youth; and in\nwhich Mentor, as the young prince\u2019s travelling tutor, played a\nconspicuous part. He vents his indignation here in a very striking\nprotest against popular ingratitude:--\n\n   \u201cHear me, ye Ithacans;--be never king\n    From this time forth benevolent, humane,\n    Or righteous; but let every sceptred hand\n    Rule merciless, and deal in wrong alone;\n    Since none of all his people, whom he swayed\n    With such paternal gentleness and love,\n    Remembers the divine Ulysses more.\u201d--(Cowper.)\n\nHe, too, meets with jeers and mockery from the insolent nobles, and\nTelemachus quits the assembly to wander in melancholy mood along the\nsea-shore--the usual resort, it will be remarked, of the Homeric\nheroes, when they seek to calm the tumult of grief or anger. Such appeal\nto the soothing influence of what Homer calls the \u201cillimitable\u201d ocean is\nnot less true to nature than it is characteristic of the poetical and\nimaginative temperament. Bathing his hands in the sea waves--for prayer,\nto the Greek as to the Hebrew mind, demanded a preparatory\npurification--Telemachus lifts his cry to his guardian goddess, Minerva.\nAt once she stands before him there in the likeness of Mentor. She\nspeaks to him words of encouragement and counsel. Evil men may mock at\nhim now; but if he be determined to prove himself the true son of such a\nfather, he shall not lack honour in the end. She will provide him ship\nand crew for his voyage. Thus encouraged by the divine Wisdom which\nspeaks in the person of Mentor, he returns to the banquet-hall, to avoid\nsuspicion. Yet, when Antinous greets him there with a mocking show of\nfriendship, he wrenches his hand roughly from his grasp, and quits the\ncompany. Taking into his counsels his nurse Eurycleia--who is the palace\nhousekeeper also--he bids her make ready good store of provisions for\nhis voyage: twelve capacious vessels filled with the ripest wine, twenty\nmeasures of fine meal, and grain besides, carefully sewn up in wallets.\nIn the dusk of this very evening, unknown to his mother, he will embark;\nfor the goddess (still in Mentor\u2019s likeness) has chartered for him a\ngalley with twenty stout rowers, which is to lie ready launched for him\nin the harbour at nightfall. Eurycleia vainly remonstrates with her\nnursling on his dangerous purpose--\n\n      \u201c\u2018Ah! bide with thine own people here at ease.\n      There is no call to suffer useless pain,\n      Wandering always on the barren seas.\u2019\n      But he: \u2018Good nurse, prithee take heart again,\n      These things are not without a god nor vain.\n      Swear only that my mother shall not know\n      Till twelve days pass, or she herself be fain\n      To ask thee, or some other the tidings show,\n    Lest her salt tears despoil much loveliness with woe.\u2019\u201d\n\nTelemachus\u2019s resolve is fixed. As soon as the shadows of evening fall,\nMinerva sends a strange drowsiness on the assembled revellers in the\nhall of Ulysses, so that the wine-cups drop from their hands, and they\nstagger off early to their couches. Then, in the person of Mentor, she\nsummons Telemachus to where the galley lies waiting for him, guides him\non board, and takes her place beside him in the stern.\n\n                                    \u201cLoud and clear\n      Sang the bluff Zephyr o\u2019er the wine-dark mere\n      Behind them. By Athene\u2019s hest he blew.\n      Telemachus his comrades on did cheer\n      To set the tackling. With good hearts the crew\n    Heard him, and all things ranged in goodly order true.\n\n      \u201cThe olive mast, planted with care, they bind\n      With ropes, the white sails stretch on twisted hide,\n      And brace the mainsail to the bellying wind.\n      Loudly the keel rushed through the seething tide.\n      Soon as the good ship\u2019s gear was all applied,\n      They ranged forth bowls crowned with dark wine, and poured\n      To gods who everlastingly abide,\n      Most to the stern-eyed child of heaven\u2019s great lord.\n    All night the ship clave onward till the Dawn upsoared.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nTELEMACHUS GOES IN QUEST OF HIS FATHER.\n\n\nHitherto, and throughout the first four books of the poem, Telemachus,\nand not Ulysses, is the hero of the tale. The voyagers soon reach the\nrocky shores of Pylos,[29] the stronghold of the old \u201chorse-tamer,\u201d\nNestor. He has survived the long campaign in which so many of his\nyounger comrades fell, and is now sitting, surrounded by his sons, at a\ngreat public banquet held in honour of the Sea-god. Telemachus, with a\nnatural modesty not unbecoming his youth, is at first reluctant to\naccost and question a chieftain so full of years and renown, and his\nattendant guardian has to reassure him by the promise that \u201cheaven will\nput words into his mouth.\u201d There is no need of question yet, however,\neither on the side of hosts or guests. Pisistratus, the youngest son of\nNestor, upon whom the duties of \u201cguest-master\u201d naturally fall, welcomes\nthe travellers with the invariable courtesy accorded by the laws of\nHomeric society to all strangers as their right, bids them take a seat\nat the banquet, and proffers the wine-cup--to the supposed Mentor\nfirst, as the elder. He only requests of them, before they drink, to\njoin their hosts in their public supplication to Neptune; for he will\nnot do them the injustice to suppose prayer can be unknown or\ndistasteful to them, be they who they may--\u201cAll men have need of\nprayer.\u201d When the prayer has been duly made by both for a blessing on\ntheir hosts and for their own safe return, and when they have eaten and\ndrunk to their hearts\u2019 content, then, and not till then, Nestor inquires\ntheir errand. The form in which the old chief put his question is as\nstrongly characteristic of a primitive civilisation as the open\nhospitality which has preceded it. He asks the voyagers, in so many\nwords, whether they are pirates?--not for a moment implying that such an\noccupation would be to their discredit. The freebooters of the sea in\nthe Homeric times were dangerous enough, but not disreputable. It was an\niron age, when every man\u2019s hand was more or less against his neighbour,\nand the guest of to-day might be an enemy to-morrow. Nestor\u2019s downright\nquestion may help a modern reader to understand the waste of Ulysses\u2019\nsubstance in his absence by the lawless spirits of Ithaca. It was only\nso long as \u201cthe strong man armed kept his palace\u201d in person that his\ngoods were in peace. Telemachus, in reply, declares his name and errand,\nand implores the old chieftain, in remembrance of the days when he and\nUlysses fought side by side at Troy, to give him, if he can, some\ntidings of his father.\n\n     \u201cAnswered him Nestor, the Gerenian knight:\n      \u2018Friend, thou remind\u2019st me of exceeding pain,\n      Which we, the Achaians of unconquered might,\n      There, and in ships along the clouded main,\n      Led by Achilleus to the spoil, did drain,\n      With those our fightings round the fortress high\n      Of Priam king. There all our best were slain--\n      There the brave Aias and Achilleus lie;\n    Patroclus there, whose wisdom matched the gods on high.\n\n     \u201c\u2018There too Antilochus my son doth sleep,\n      Who in his strength was all so void of blame--\n      Swift runner, and staunch warrior.\u2019\u201d\n\nNestor shows the same love of story-telling which marks his character in\nthe Iliad. Modern critics who are inclined to accuse the old chief of\ngarrulity should remember that, in an age in which there were no daily\nnewspapers with their \u201cspecial correspondents,\u201d a good memory and a\nfluent tongue were very desirable qualifications of old age. The old\ncampaigner in his retirement was the historian of his own times. Unless\nhe told his story often and at length amongst the men of a younger\ngeneration when they met at the banquet, all memory of the gallant deeds\nof old would be lost, and even the professional bard would have lacked\nthe data on which to build his lay. Many a Nestor must have been\nready--in season and out of season--to\n\n    \u201cShoulder his crutch, and show how fields were won,\u201d\n\nbefore any Homer could have sung of the Trojan war. Even now, we are\nready to listen readily to the veteran\u2019s reminiscences of a past\ngeneration, whether in war or peace, who has a retentive memory and a\npleasant style--only he now commonly tells his story in print.\n\nNestor proceeds to tell his guests how the gods, after Troy was taken,\nhad stirred up strife between the brother-kings Agamemnon and Menelaus;\nand how, in consequence, the fleet had divided, Menelaus with one\ndivision sailing straight for home, while the rest had waited with\nAgamemnon in the hope of appeasing the wrath of heaven. Ulysses, who had\nat first set sail with Menelaus, had turned back and rejoined his\nleader. Of his subsequent fate Nestor knows nothing; but he bids the\nyoung man take courage. He has heard of the troubles that beset him at\nhome; but if Minerva vouchsafes to the son the love and favour which (as\nwas known to all the Greeks) she bore to his father, all will go well\nwith him yet. Neither Nestor nor Telemachus are aware (though the reader\nis) that the Wisdom which had made Ulysses a great name was even now\nguiding the steps of his son. One thing yet the youth longs to hear from\nthe lips of his father\u2019s ancient friend--the terrible story of\nAgamemnon\u2019s death by the hands of his wife and her paramour, and the\nvengeance taken by his son Orestes. It is a tale which he has heard as\nyet but darkly, but has dwelt upon in his heart ever since the goddess,\nat her visit under the shape of Mentes, made such significant reference\nto the story. Nestor tells it now at length--the bloody legend which,\nvariously shaped, became the theme of the poet and the dramatist from\ngeneration to generation of Greek literature. In Homer\u2019s version we miss\nsome of the horrors which later writers wove into the tale; and it is\nnot unlikely that, in the simpler form in which it is here given, we\nhave the main facts of an actual domestic tragedy. During Agamemnon\u2019s\nlong absence in the Trojan war, his queen Clytemnestra, sister of\nHelen, had been seduced from her marriage faith by her husband\u2019s cousin\n\u00c6gisthus. In vain had the household bard, faithful to the trust\ncommitted to him by his lord in his absence, counselled and warned his\nlady against the peril; and \u00c6gisthus at last, hopeless of his object so\nlong as she had these honest eyes upon her, had caused him to be carried\nto a desert island to perish with hunger. So she fell, and \u00c6gisthus\nruled palace and kingdom. At last Agamemnon returned from the weary\nsiege, and, landing on the shore of his kingdom, knelt down and kissed\nthe soil in a transport of joyful tears. It is probably with no\nconscious imitation, but merely from the correspondence of the poet\u2019s\nmind, that Shakespeare attributes the very same expression of feeling to\nhis Richard II.:--\n\n                        \u201cI weep for joy\n    To stand upon my kingdom once again.\n    Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand,\n    Though rebels wound thee with their horses\u2019 hoofs:\n    As a long-parted mother with her child\n    Plays fondly with her tears, and smiles in meeting,\n    So weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth,\n    And do thee favour with my royal hands.\u201d\n\nAgamemnon meets with as tragical a reception from the usurper of his\nrights as did Richard Plantagenet:--\n\n     \u201cMany the warm tears from his eyelids shed,\n      When through the mist of his long-hoped delight\n      He saw the lovely land before him spread.\n      Him from high watch-tower marked the watchman wight\n      Set by \u00c6gisthus to watch day and night,\n      Two talents of pure gold his promised hire.\n      Twelve months he watched, lest the Avenger light\n      Unheeded, and remember his old fire;\n    Then to his lord made haste to show the tidings dire.\n\n     \u201cForthwith \u00c6gisthus, shaping a dark snare,\n      Score of his bravest chose, and ambush set,\n      And bade rich banquets close at hand prepare.\n      Then he with horses and with chariots met\n      The king, and welcomed him with fair words, yet\n      With fraud at heart, and to the feast him led;\n      There, like a stalled ox, smote him while he fed.\u201d\n\nFor seven years the adulterer and usurper reigned in security at Mycen\u00e6.\nBut meanwhile the boy Orestes, stolen away from the guilty court by his\nelder sister, was growing up to manhood, the destined avenger of blood,\nat Athens. In the seventh year he came back in disguise to his father\u2019s\nhouse, slew \u00c6gisthus, and recovered his inheritance. There was a darker\nshadow still thrown over Agamemnon\u2019s death by later poets, which finds\nno place in Homer. The tragic interest in the dramas of \u00c6schylus and\nSophocles, which are founded on this story, lies in their representing\nClytemnestra herself as the murderess of her husband, and Orestes, as\nhis father\u2019s avenger, not hesitating to become the executioner of his\nmother as well as of her paramour.\n\nNestor has finished his story, and the travellers offer to return to\ntheir vessel and continue their quest; but the old chieftain will not\nhear of it. That night, at least, they must remain as his guests--on the\nmorrow he will send them on to the court of Menelaus at Sparta, where\nthey may chance to learn the latest tidings of Ulysses. Telemachus\u2019s\nguardian bids him accept the invitation, then suddenly spreads wings,\nand takes to flight in the likeness of a sea-eagle; and both Nestor and\nTelemachus recognise at last that, in the shape of Mentor, the goddess\nof wisdom has been so long his guide. A sacrifice is forthwith offered\nin her honour--a heifer, with horns overlaid with gold; a public banquet\nis held as before, and then, according to promise, Telemachus is sped on\nhis journey. A pair of swift and strong-limbed horses--the old chief\nknew what a good horse was, and charged his sons specially to take the\nbest in his stalls--are harnessed for the journey, and good provision of\ncorn and wine, \u201csuch as was fit for princes,\u201d stored in the chariot.\nPisistratus himself mounts beside his new friend as driver. Their first\nday\u2019s stage is Pher\u00e6, where they are hospitably entertained by Nestor\u2019s\nfriend, Diocles; and, after driving all the following day, they reach\nthe palace gates of Menelaus, in Sparta, when the sun has set upon the\nyellow harvest fields, \u201cand all the ways are dim.\u201d\n\nAt Sparta, too, as at Pylos, the city is holding high festival on the\nevening of their arrival. A double marriage is being celebrated in the\nhalls of Menelaus. Hermione, his sole child by Helen, is leaving her\nparents to become the bride of Neoptolemus (otherwise known as Pyrrhus,\nthe \u201cred-haired\u201d), son of the great Achilles; and at the same time the\nyoung Megapenthes, Menelaus\u2019s son by a slave wife, is to be married in\nhis father\u2019s house. There is music and dancing in the halls when the\ntravellers arrive; but Menelaus, like Nestor, will ask no questions of\nthe strangers until the bath, and food, and wine in plenty, have\nrefreshed them, and their horses have good barley-meal and rye set\nbefore them in the mangers. The magnificence of Menelaus\u2019s palace, as\ndescribed by the poet, is a very remarkable feature in the tale. It\nreads far more like a scene from the \u2018Arabian Nights\u2019 than a lay of\nearly Greece. The lofty roofs fling back a flashing light as the\ntravellers enter, \u201clike as the splendour of the sun or moon.\u201d Gold,\nsilver, bronze, ivory, and electrum, combine their brilliancy in the\ndecorations. The guests wash in lavers of silver, and the water is\npoured from golden ewers. Telemachus is struck with wonder at the sight,\nand can compare it to nothing earthly.\n\n   \u201cSuch and so glorious to celestial eyne\n    Haply may gleam the Olympian halls divine!\u201d\n\nThe palaces of Sparta, as seen in Homer\u2019s vision, contrast remarkably\nwith the estimate formed of them by the Greek historian of a later age.\nThucydides speaks of the city as having no public buildings of any\nmagnificence, such as would impress a stranger with an idea of its real\npower, but wearing rather the appearance of a collection of villages. It\nis difficult to conceive that the actual Sparta of a much earlier age\ncould have contained anything at all corresponding to this Homeric ideal\nof splendour; and the question arises, whether we have here an\nindistinct record of an earlier and extinct civilisation, or whether the\npoet drew an imaginary description from his own recollections of the\ngorgeous barbaric splendour of some city in the further East, which he\nhad visited in his travels. If this be nothing more than a poet\u2019s\nexaggerated and idealised view of an actual state of higher\ncivilisation, which once really existed in the old Greek kingdoms, and\ndisappeared under the Dorian Heraclids, it is a singular record of a\nbackward step in a nation\u2019s history; and the Homeric poems become\nespecially valuable as preserving the memorials of a state of society\nwhich would otherwise have passed altogether into oblivion. There is\nless difficulty in believing the possible existence of an\nante-historical civilisation which afterwards became extinct, if we\nremember the splendours of Solomon\u2019s court, as to which the widespread\ntraditions of the East only corroborate the records of Scripture, and\nall which passed away almost entirely with its founder. It is remarkable\nthat in the ancient Welsh poem, \u2018Y Gododin,\u2019 by Aneurin Owen, of which\nthe supposed date is A.D. 570, there are very similar properties and\nscenery: knights in \u201carmour of gold\u201d and \u201cpurple plumes,\u201d mounted on\n\u201cthick-maned chargers,\u201d with \u201cgolden spurs,\u201d who must--if ever they rode\nthe Cambrian mountains--have been a very different race from the wild\nWelsh who held Edward Longshanks at bay. Are we to look upon this as\nmerely the common language of all poets? and, if so, how comes it to be\ncommon to all? Were the Welsh who fought in the half-mythical battle of\nCattraeth as far superior, in the scale of civilisation, to their\nsuccessors who fell at Conway, as the Spartans under Menelaus (if\nHomer\u2019s picture of them is to be trusted) were to the Spartans under\nLeonidas? or was there some remote original, Oriental or other, whence\nthis ornate military imagery passed into the poetry of such very\ndifferent nations?\n\nSo, too, when Helen--now restored to her place in Menelaus\u2019s\nhousehold--comes forth to greet the strangers, her whole surroundings\nare rather those of an Eastern sultana than of any princess of Spartan\nrace.\n\n   \u201cForth from her fragrant chamber Helen passed\n    Like gold-bowed Dian: and Adraste came\n    The bearer of her throne\u2019s majestic frame;\n    Her carpet\u2019s fine-wrought fleece Alcippe bore,\n    Phylo her basket bright with silver ore,\n    Gift of the wife of Polybus, who swayed\n    When Thebes, the Egyptian Thebes, scant wealth displayed.\n    His wife Alcandra, from her treasured store,\n    A golden spindle to fair Helen bore,\n    And a bright silver basket, on whose round\n    A rim of burnished gold was closely bound.\u201d--(Sotheby.)\n\nThese elaborate preparations for her \u201cwork\u201d--which is some delicate\nfabric of wool tinged with the costly purple dye--have little in common\nwith the household loom of Penelope. Here, as in the Iliad, refinement\nand elegance of taste are the distinctive characteristics of Helen; and\nthey help to explain, though they in no way excuse, the fascination\nexercised over her by Paris, the accomplished musician and brilliant\nconverser, rich in all the graces which Venus, for her own evil\npurposes, had bestowed on her favourite. Helen is still, as in the\nIliad, emphatically \u201cthe lady;\u201d the lady of rank and fashion, as things\nwere in that day, with all the fashionable faults, and all the\nfashionable good qualities: selfish, and luxurious, gracious and\nfascinating. Her transgressions, and the seemingly lenient view which\nthe poet takes of them, have been discussed sufficiently in the Iliad.\nThey are all now condoned. She has recovered from her miserable\ninfatuation; and if we are inclined to despise Menelaus for his easy\ntemper as a husband, we must remember the medi\u00e6val legends of Arthur and\nGuinevere, to whom Helen bears, in many points of character, a strong\nresemblance. The readiness which Arthur shows to have accepted at any\ntime the repentance of his queen is almost repulsive to modern feeling,\nbut was evidently not so to the taste of the age in which those legends\nwere popular; nor is it at all clear that such forgiveness is less\nconsonant with the purest code of morality than the stern implacability\ntowards such offences which the laws of modern society would enjoin.\nMenelaus has forgiven Helen, even as Arthur--though not Mr Tennyson\u2019s\nArthur--would have forgiven Guinevere. But she has not forgiven herself,\nand this is a strong redeeming point in her character; \u201cshameless\u201d is\nstill the uncompromising epithet which she applies to herself, as in the\nIliad, even in the presence of her husband and his guests.\n\nThey, too, have been wanderers since the fall of Troy, like the lost\nUlysses. The king tells his own story before he interrogates his\nguest:--\n\n      \u201cHardly I came at last, in the eighth year,\n      Home with my ships from my long wanderings.\n      Far as to Cyprus in my woe severe,\n      Ph\u0153nice, Egypt, did the waves me bear.\n      Sidon and Ethiopia I have seen,\n      Even to Erembus roamed, and Libya, where\n      The lambs are full-horned from their birth, I ween,\n    And in the rolling year the fruitful flocks thrice yean.\u201d\n\nHe has grown rich in his travels, and would be happy, but for the\nthought of his brother Agamemnon\u2019s miserable end. Another grief, too,\nlies very close to his heart--the uncertainty which still shrouds the\nfate of his good comrade Ulysses.\n\n      \u201cHis was the fate to suffer grievous woe,\n      And mine to mourn without forgetfulness,\n      While onward and still on the seasons flow,\n      And he yet absent, and I comfortless.\n      Whether he live or die we cannot guess.\n      Him haply old Laertes doth lament,\n      And sage Penelope, in sore distress,\n      And to Telemachus the hours are spent\n    In sadness, whom he left new-born when first he went.\u201d\n\nThe son is touched at the reminiscence, and drops a quiet tear, while\nfor a moment he covers his eyes with his robe. It is at this juncture\nthat Helen enters the hall. Her quick thought seizes the truth at once;\nas she had detected the father through his disguise of rags when he came\nas a spy into Troy, so now she recognises the son at once by his strong\npersonal resemblance. Then Menelaus, too, sees the likeness, and\nconnects it with the youth\u2019s late emotion. Young Pisistratus at once\ntells him who his friend is, and on what errand they are travelling\ntogether. Warm is the greeting which the King of Sparta bestows on the\nson of his old friend. There shall be no more lamentation for this\nnight; all painful subjects shall be at least postponed until the\nmorrow. But still, as the feast goes on, the talk is of Ulysses. Helen\nhas learnt, too, in her wanderings, some of the secrets of Egyptian\npharmacy. She has mixed in the wine a potent Eastern drug, which raises\nthe soul above all care and sorrow--\n\n      \u201cWhich so cures heartache and the inward stings,\n      That men forget all sorrow wherein they pine.\n      He who hath tasted of the draught divine\n      Weeps not that day, although his mother die\n      Or father, or cut off before his eyen\n      Brother or child beloved fall miserably,\n    Hewn by the pitiless sword, he sitting silent by.\u201d\n\nThe \u201cNepenthes\u201d of Helen has obtained a wide poetical celebrity. Some\nallegorical interpreters of the poem would have us understand that it is\nthe charms of conversation which have this miraculous power to make men\nforget their grief. Without at all questioning their efficacy, it may be\nsafely assumed that the poet had in his mind something more material.\nThe drug has been supposed to be opium; but the effects ascribed to the\nArabian \u201chaschich\u201d--a preparation of hemp--correspond very closely with\nthose said to be produced by Helen\u2019s potion. Sir Henry Halford thought\nit might more probably be the \u201chyoscyamus,\u201d which he says is still used\nat Constantinople and in the Morea under the name of \u201c_Nebensch_.\u201d[30]\n\nNot till the next morning does Telemachus discuss with Menelaus the\nobject of his journey. What little the Spartan king can tell him of the\nfate of his father is so far reassuring, that there is good hope he is\nyet alive. But he is--or was--detained in an enchanted island. There the\ngoddess Calypso holds him an unwilling captive, and forces her love upon\nhim. He longs sore for his home in Ithaca; but the spells of the\nenchantress are too strong. So much has Menelaus learnt, during his own\nwanderings, while wind-bound at Pharos in Egypt, from Proteus, \u201cthe old\nman of the sea\u201d--\n\n    \u201cWho knows all secret things in ocean pent.\u201d\n\nThe knowledge had to be forced from him by stratagem. Proteus was in the\nhabit of coming up out of the sea at mid-day to sleep under the shadow\nof the rocks, with his flock of seals about him. Instructed by his\ndaughter Eidothea--who had taken pity on the wanderers--Menelaus and\nsome of his comrades had disguised themselves in seal-skins[31] (though\nmuch disturbed, as he confesses, by the \u201cvery ancient and fish-like\nsmell\u201d), and had seized the ancient sea-god as he lay asleep on the\nshore. Proteus, like the genie in the Arabian tale, changed himself\nrapidly into all manner of terrible forms; but Menelaus held him fast\nuntil he was obliged to resume his own, when, confessing himself\nvanquished by the mortal, the god proceeded in recompense to answer his\nquestions as to his own fate, and that of his companion chiefs, the\nwanderers on their way home from Troy. The transformations of Proteus\nhave much exercised the ingenuity of the allegorists. The pliancy of\nsuch principles of interpretation becomes amusingly evident, when one\nauthority explains to us that here are symbolised the wiles of\nsophistry--another, that it is the inscrutability of truth, ever\nescaping from the seeker\u2019s grasp; while others, again, see in Proteus\nthe versatility of nature, the various ideals of philosophers, or the\nchanges of the atmosphere. From such source had the king learnt the\nterrible end of his brother Agamemnon, and the ignoble captivity of\nUlysses; but for himself, the favourite of heaven, a special exemption\nhas been decreed from the common lot of mortality. It is thus that\nProteus reads the fates for the husband of Helen:--\n\n   \u201cThee to Elysian fields, earth\u2019s farthest end,\n    Where Rhadamanthus dwells, the gods shall send;\n    Where mortals easiest pass the careless hour;\n    No lingering winters there, nor snow, nor shower,\n    But ocean ever, to refresh mankind,\n    Breathes the shrill spirit of the western wind.\u201d\n\nThe grand lines of Homer are thus grandly rendered by Abraham Moore.\nHomer repeats the description of the Elysian fields, the abode of the\nblest, in a subsequent passage of the poem, which has been translated\nalmost word for word--yet as only a poet could translate it--by the\nRoman Lucretius. Mr Tennyson has the same great original before him when\nhe makes his King Arthur see, in his dying thought,\n\n        \u201cThe island-valley of Avilion,\n    Where falls not hail nor rain nor any snow,\n    Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies\n    Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns,\n    And bowery hollows crowned with summer sea.\u201d\n\nThe calm sweet music of these lines has charmed many a reader who never\nknew that the strain had held all Greece enchanted two thousand years\nago. It has been scarcely possible to add anything to the quiet beauty\nof the original Greek, but the English poet has at least shown exquisite\nskill in the setting of the jewel. But Homer has always been held as\ncommon property by later poets. Milton\u2019s classical taste had previously\nadopted some of the imagery; the \u201cSpirit\u201d in the \u2018Masque of Comus\u2019\nspeaks of the happy climes which are his proper abode:--\n\n   \u201cThere eternal summer dwells,\n    And west winds, with musky wing,\n    About the cedarn alleys fling\n    Nard and cassia\u2019s balmy smells.\u201d\n\nGladly would Menelaus have kept the son of his old comrade with him\nlonger as a guest, but Telemachus is impatient to rejoin his galley,\nwhich waits for him at Pylos. His host reluctantly dismisses him, not\nwithout parting gifts; but the gift which the king would have had him\ntake--a chariot and yoke of three swift horses--the island-prince will\nnot accept. Ithaca has no room for horse-coursing, and he loves his\nrocky home all the better.\n\n   \u201cWith me no steeds to Ithaca shall sail.\n    Such leave I here--thy grace, thy rightful vaunt,\n    Lord of a level land, where never fail\n    Lotus, and rye, and wheat, and galingale:\n    No room hath Ithaca to course, no mead--\n    Goat-haunted, dearer than horse-feeding vale.\u201d\n\nThere is much consternation in the palace of Ulysses when the absence of\nTelemachus is at last discovered. Antinous and his fellow-revellers are\nstruck with astonishment at the bold step he has suddenly taken, and\nwith alarm at the possible result. Antinous will man a vessel at once,\nand waylay him in the straits on his return. The revelation of this plot\nto Penelope by Medon, the herald, one of the few faithful retainers of\nUlysses\u2019 house, makes her for the first time aware of her son\u2019s\ndeparture; for old Eurycleia has kept her darling\u2019s secret safe even\nfrom his mother. In an agony of grief she sits down amidst her\nsympathising maidens, and bewails herself as \u201ctwice bereaved,\u201d of son\nand husband. She lifts her prayer to Minerva, and the goddess hears.\nWhen Penelope has wept herself to sleep, there stands at the head of her\ncouch what seems the form of her sister Iphthim\u00e8, and assures her of her\nson\u2019s safety: he has a guardian about his path \u201csuch as many a hero\nwould pray to have.\u201d Even in her dream, Penelope is half conscious of\nthe dignity of her visitor; and, true wife that she is, she prays the\nvision to tell her something of her absent husband. But such revelation,\nthe figure tells her, is no part of its mission, and so vanishes into\nthin air. The sleeper awakes--it is a dream indeed; but it has left a\nlightness and elasticity of spirit which the queen accepts as an augury\nof good to come.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nULYSSES WITH CALYPSO AND THE PH\u00c6ACIANS.\n\n\nThe fifth book of the poem opens with a second council of the gods. It\nhas been remarked with some truth that the gods of the Odyssey are, on\nthe whole, more dignified than those of the Iliad. They are divided in\nthis poem, as well as in the other, in their loves and hates towards\nmortals, but their dissensions are neither so passionate nor so\ngrotesque. Minerva complains bitterly to the Ruler of Olympus of the\ninjustice with which her favourite Ulysses is treated, by being kept so\nlong an exile from his home. She, too, repeats the indignant protest\nwhich the poet had before put into the mouth of Mentor, which has found\nvent in all times and ages, from Job and the Psalmist downwards, when in\nthe bitterness of a wounded spirit men rebel against what seems the\ninequality of the justice of heaven; that \u201cthere is one event to the\nrighteous and the wicked;\u201d nay, that the wicked have even the best of\nit. \u201cLet never king henceforth do justly and love mercy; but let him\nrule with iron hand and work all iniquity; for lo! what is Ulysses\u2019\nreward?\u201d Jupiter is moved by the appeal. He at once despatches Mercury\nto the island of Calypso, to announce to her that Ulysses must be\nreleased from her toils; such is his sovereign will, and it must be\nobeyed. The description of the island-grotto in which Calypso dwells is\none of the most beautiful in Homer, and it is a passage upon which our\nEnglish translators have delighted to employ their very best powers.\nPerhaps Leigh Hunt\u2019s version is the most simply beautiful, and as\nfaithful as any. Mercury has sped on his errand;--\n\n   \u201cAnd now arriving at the isle, he springs\n    Oblique, and landing with subsided wings,\n    Walks to the cavern \u2019mid the tall green rocks,\n    Where dwelt the goddess with the lovely locks.\n    He paused; and there came on him, as he stood,\n    A smell of cedar and of citron wood,\n    That threw a perfume all about the isle;\n    And she within sat spinning all the while,\n    And sang a low sweet song that made him hark and smile.\n    A sylvan nook it was, grown round with trees,\n    Poplars, and elms, and odorous cypresses,\n    In which all birds of ample wing, the owl\n    And hawk, had nests, and broad-tongued waterfowl.\n    The cave in front was spread with a green vine,\n    Whose dark round bunches almost burst with wine;\n    And from four springs, running a sprightly race,\n    Four fountains clear and crisp refreshed the place;\n    While all about a meadowy ground was seen,\n    Of violets mingling with the parsley green.\u201d\n\nCalypso recognises the messenger, for the immortals, says the poet, know\neach other always. Mercury tells his errand--a bitter one for the nymph\nto hear, for she has set her heart upon her mortal lover. Very hard and\nenvious, she says, is the Olympian tyrant, to grudge her this harmless\nfancy. [She must have thought in her heart, though the poet does not\nput it into words for her, that Jupiter should surely have some\nsympathy for weaknesses of which he set so remarkable an example.] But\nshe will obey, as needs she must. Ulysses shall go; only he must build\nhimself a boat, for there is none in her island. She goes herself to\nannounce to him his coming deliverance. She finds him sitting pensively,\nas is his wont, on the sea-beach, looking and longing in the direction\nof Ithaca.\n\n   \u201cCompanion of the rocks, the livelong light,\n    He dreaming on the shore, but not at rest,\n    With groans and tears and lingering undelight\n    Gazed on the pulses of the ocean\u2019s breast.\u201d\n\nHis heart is in his native island; but, sooth to say, he makes the best\nof his present captivity. He endures, if he does not heartily\nreciprocate, the love of his fair jailer. The correspondence in many\npoints of these Homeric lays with the legends of medi\u00e6val Christendom,\nespecially with those of Arthur and his Round Table, has been already\nnoticed. It has been said also that, on the whole, the moral tone of\nHomer is far purer. But there is one bright creation of medi\u00e6val fiction\nwhich finds no counterpart in the song of the Greek bard. It was only\nChristianity--one might almost say it was only medi\u00e6val\nChristianity--which could conceive the pure ideal of the stainless\nknight who has kept his maiden innocence,--who only can sit in the\n\u201csiege perilous\u201d and win the holy Grail, \u201cbecause his heart is pure.\u201d\nAmong all the heroes of Iliad or Odyssey there is no Sir Galahad.\n\nCalypso obeys the behest of Jove reluctantly, but without murmuring.\nGoddess-like or woman-like, however, she cannot fail to be mortified at\nthe want of any reluctance on her lover\u2019s part to leave her. There is\nsomething touching in her expostulation:--\n\n      \u201cChild of Laertes, wouldst thou fain depart\n      Hence to thine own dear fatherland? Farewell!\n      Yet, couldst thou read the sorrow and the smart,\n      With me in immortality to dwell\n      Thou wouldst rejoice, and love my mansion well.\n      Deeply and long thou yearnest for thy wife;\n      Yet her in beauty I perchance excel.\n      Beseems not one who hath but mortal life\n    With forms of deathless mould to challenge a vain strife.\u201d\n\nUlysses\u2019 reply is honest and manful:--\n\n      \u201cAll this I know and do myself avow.\n      Well may Penelope in form and brow\n      And stature seem inferior far to thee,\n      For she is mortal, and immortal thou.\n      Yet even thus \u2019tis very dear to me\n    My long-desired return and ancient home to see.\n\n      \u201cBut if some god amid the wine-dark flood\n      With doom pursue me, and my vessel mar,\n      Then will I bear it as a brave man should.\n      Not the first time I suffer. Wave and war\n      Deep in my life have graven many a scar.\u201d\n\nIt cannot but be observed, however, that while Penelope\u2019s whole thoughts\nand interests are concentrated upon her absent husband, the longing of\nUlysses is rather after his fatherland than his wife. She is only one of\nthe many component parts of the home-scene which is ever before the\nwanderer\u2019s eyes; and not always the most important part, for his aged\nfather and mother and his young son seem to be at least equal objects\nof anxiety. It may be urged that in this parting scene with Calypso he\nis purposely reticent in the matter of his affection for Penelope, not\ncaring to draw down upon himself the proverbial wrath of \u201ca woman\nscorned;\u201d and that for a similar reason he suppresses his feelings, and\nquite ignores the existence of his wife, at the court of Alcinous, when\nthat king offers him his daughter in marriage. But there is, to say the\nleast, some lack of enthusiasm on the husband\u2019s part throughout. Of the\nsingle-hearted devotion of woman to man we have striking instances both\nin Penelope and in the Andromache of the Iliad; but the devotion of man\nto woman had yet long to wait for its development in the age of\nchivalry.\n\nHe builds himself a boat on the island, by Calypso\u2019s instructions, and\nwhen all is ready, she stores it plentifully with food and wine, and\ngives him directions for his voyage. He launches and sets sail; but the\nangry god of the sea (irate especially against Ulysses for having\nblinded his son, the giant Polyphemus, as we shall learn hereafter)\nstirs winds and waves against him, wrecks his bark, and leaves him\nclinging for life to a broken spar. One of the sea-nymphs, Ino, takes\npity on him, and gives him a charmed scarf--so long as he wears it his\nlife is safe. For two nights and days he is tossed helplessly on the\nocean; on the third, with sore wounds and bruises, he makes good his\nlanding on the rock-bound coast of a strange island. Utterly exhausted,\nhe scrapes together a bed of leaves, and creeping into it, sinks into a\nprofound sleep.\n\nHe awakes to find himself in a kind of faeryland. The island on which\nhe has been cast is Scheria,[32] inhabited by the Ph\u00e6acians, whose king\nand people are very far indeed from being of the ordinary type of mortal\nmen. Whether the poet, in his description of these Ph\u00e6acian islanders,\nwas exercising his imagination only, or indulging his talent for satire,\nis a controverted question with Homeric critics. Those who would assign\nthis poem of the Odyssey to a different author from the writer or\nwriters of the Iliad, and to a much later date than that commonly given\nto Homer, have thought that in the good-humoured boastfulness of the\nPh\u00e6acian character, their love of pleasure and novelty, and their\nattachment to the sea, some Ionian poet was showing up, under fictitious\nnames, the weaknesses of his own countrymen. Others take the Ph\u00e6acians\nto be only another name for the Ph\u0153nicians, the sailors of all seas, who\nhad probably in their character somewhat of the egotism and exaggeration\nwhich have been commonly reputed faults of men who have travelled far\nand seen much. Whatever may be the true interpretation of the story, or\nwhether there be any interpretation at all, this curious episode in the\nadventures of Ulysses is unquestionably rather comic than serious. The\nnames are all significant, somewhat after the fashion of those assumed\nby the Red men. The king (Alcinous) is \u201cStrong-mind,\u201d son of \u201cThe Swift\nSeaman,\u201d and he has a brother called \u201cCrusher of Men.\u201d The nautical\nnames of his courtiers--\u201cProw-man\u201d and \u201cStern-man,\u201d and the rest--are as\npalpably conventional as our own Tom Bowline and Captain Crosstree. The\nhero\u2019s introduction to his new hosts presents, nevertheless, one of the\nmost beautiful scenes in the poem. The patriarchal simplicity of the\ntale cannot fail to remind the reader, as Homer so often does, of the\nnarratives of the earlier Scriptures.\n\nThe princess Nausicaa, daughter of the king of the Ph\u00e6acians, has had a\ndream. The dream--which comes as naturally to princesses, no doubt, as\nto other young people--is of marriage; and in this case it could be no\npossible reproach to the dreamer, since the goddess of wisdom is\nrepresented as having herself suggested it. Nor is the dream of any\nbridegroom in particular, but simply of what seems to us the very\nprosaic fact that a wedding outfit, which must soon come to be thought\nof, required household stores of good linen; and that the family stock\nin the palace, from long disuse, stood much in need of washing. Nausicaa\nawakes in the morning, and begs of her father to lend her a chariot and\na yoke of mules, that she and her maidens may go down to the shore,\nwhere the river joins the sea, to perform this domestic duty. The\npastoral simplicity of the whole scene is charming. It has all the\nfreshness of those earlier ages when the business of life was so\nleisurely and jovially conducted, that much of it wore the features of a\nholiday. The princess and her maidens plunge the linen in the stream,\nand stamp it clean with their pretty bare feet (a process which will\nremind an English reader of Arlette and Robert of Normandy, and which\nmay be seen in operation still at many a burn-side in Scotland), and\nthen go themselves to bathe. An outdoor banquet forms part of the day\u2019s\nenjoyment; for the good queen, Nausicaa\u2019s mother, has stored the wain\nwith delicate viands and a goat-skin of sweet wine. When this is over,\nthe girls begin to play at ball. Ulysses, be it remembered, is all this\nwhile lying fast asleep under his heap of leaves, and, as it happens,\nclose by the spot where this merry party are disporting themselves. By\nchance Nausicaa, too eager in her game, throws the ball out into the\nsea; whereupon the whole chorus of handmaidens raise a cry of dismay,\nwhich at once awakens the sleeper. He is puzzled, when he comes to\nhimself, to make out where he is; and still more confounded, when he\npeers out from his hiding-place, to find himself in the close\nneighbourhood of this bevy of joyous damsels, especially when he\nbethinks himself of the very primitive style of his present costume; for\nthe scarf which the sea-nymph gave him us a talisman he had cast into\nthe sea upon his landing, as she had especially charged him. But Ulysses\nis far too old a traveller to allow an over-punctilious modesty to stand\nin his way when he is in danger of starving. He has no idea of missing\nthis opportunity of supplying his wants merely because he has lost his\nwardrobe. He extemporises some very slight covering out of an\nolive-bough, and, in this strange attire, makes his sudden appearance\nbefore the party. Nausicaa\u2019s maidens all scream and take to flight--very\nexcusably; but the king\u2019s daughter, with a true nobility, stands firm.\nShe sees only a shipwrecked man, and \u201cto the pure all things are pure.\u201d\nUlysses is a courtier as well as a traveller, and knows much of \u201ccities\nand men;\u201d and it is not the flattery of a suppliant, but the quick\ndiscernment of a man of the world, which makes him at once assign her\ntrue rank to the fair stranger who stands before him. He remains at a\nrespectful distance, while, in the language of Eastern compliment, he\ncompares her to the young palm-tree for grace and beauty, and invokes\nthe blessing of the gods upon her marriage-hour, if she will take pity\non his miserable case. Nausicaa recalls her fugitive attendants, and\nrebukes them for their folly, reminding them that \u201cthe stranger and the\npoor are the messengers of the gods.\u201d The shipwrecked hero is supplied\nat once with food and drink and raiment; and when he reappears, after\nhaving bathed and clothed himself, it is with a mien and stature more\nmajestic than his wont, with the \u201chyacinthine locks\u201d of immortal youth\nflowing round his stately shoulders--such grace does his guardian\ngoddess bestow upon him, that he may find favour in the sight of the\nPh\u00e6acian princess. She looks upon him now with simple and undisguised\nadmiration, confessing aside to her handmaidens that, when her time for\nmarriage _does_ come, she should wish for just such a husband as this\ngodlike stranger. There is nothing unmaidenly in such language from the\nlips of Nausicaa. To remain unmarried was a reproach in her day,\nwhatever it may be in ours, and a reproach not likely to fall upon a\nking\u2019s daughter; so, looking upon the marriage state as inevitable, and\nat her age very near at hand, she thinks and speaks of it unreservedly\nto her companions. Our modern conventional silence on such topics arises\nin great degree from the fact that a perpetual maidenhood is the\ninevitable lot of far too many in our over-civilised society, and, being\ninevitable, is no reproach. It does not consort, therefore, with\nmaidenly dignity to express any interest about marriage, for which an\nopportunity may never be offered.\n\nBut Nausicaa is at least as careful to observe the proprieties,\naccording to her own view of them, as any modern young lady. She will\npromise the shipwrecked stranger a welcome at her father\u2019s court; but he\nmust by no means ride home in the wain with her, or even be seen\nentering the city in her company. So Ulysses runs by the side of her\nmules, and waits in a sacred grove near the city gates, until the\nprincess and her party have re-entered the palace. When they have\ndisappeared, he issues forth, and meets a girl carrying a pitcher. It is\nonce more his guardian goddess in disguise. She veils him in a mist, so\nthat he passes the streets unquestioned by the natives (who have no love\nfor strangers), and stands at last in the presence of King Alcinous.\n\nThe king of the Ph\u00e6acians, as well as his queen, boast to be descended\nfrom Neptune. His subjects therefore, are, as has been said,\nemphatically a seagoing people. Ulysses has already seen with\nadmiration, as he passed,\n\n   \u201cThe smooth wide havens, and the glorious fleet,\n     Wherewith those mariners the great deep tire.\u201d\n\nTheir galleys, moreover, are unlike any barks that ever walked the seas\nexcept in a poet\u2019s imagination. King Alcinous himself describes them:--\n\n     \u201cFor unto us no pilots appertain,\n      Rudder nor helm which other barks obey.\n      These, ruled by reason, their own course essay\n      Sharing men\u2019s mind. Cities and climes they know,\n      And through the deep sea-gorges cleaving way,\n      Wrapt in an ambient vapour, to and fro\n    Sail in a fearless scorn of scathe or overthrow.\u201d\n\nThe wondrous art of navigation might well seem nothing less than\nmiraculous in an age when all the forces of nature were personified as\ngods. So, when the great ship Argo carried out her crew of ancient\nheroes on what was the first voyage of discovery, the fable ran that in\nher prow was set a beam cut from the oak of Dodona, which had the gift\nof speech, and gave the voyagers oracles in their distress. Our English\nSpenser must have had these Ph\u00e6acian ships in mind when he describes the\n\u201cgondelay\u201d which bears the enchantress Ph\u00e6dria:--\n\n     \u201cEftsoone her shallow ship away did slide,\n      More swift than swallow sheres the liquid sky,\n      Withouten oar or pilot it to guide,\n      Or winged canvass with the wind to fly;\n      Only she turned a pin, and by-and-by\n      It cut a way upon the yielding wave,\n      (Ne cared she her course for to apply)\n      For it was taught the way which she would have,\n    And both from rocks and flats itself could wisely save.\u201d\n\nAs the men of Ph\u00e6acia excel all others in seamanship, so also do the\nwomen in the feminine accomplishments of weaving and embroidery. But\nthey are not, as they freely confess, a nation of warriors: they love\nthe feast and the dance and the song, and care little for what other men\ncall glory. The palace of Alcinous and its environs are all in\naccordance with this luxurious type of character. All round the palace\nlie gardens and orchards, which rejoice in an enchanted climate, under\nwhose influence their luscious products ripen in an unfailing\nsuccession:--\n\n     \u201cThere in full prime the orchard-trees grow tall,\n      Sweet fig, pomegranate, apple fruited fair,\n      Pear and the healthful olive. Each and all\n      Both summer droughts and chills of winter spare;\n      All the year round they flourish. Some the air\n      Of Zephyr warms to life, some doth mature.\n      Apple grows old on apple, pear on pear,\n      Fig follows fig, vintage doth vintage lure;\n    Thus the rich revolution doth for aye endure.\u201d\n\nWhen the traveller enters within the palace itself, he finds himself\nsurrounded with equal wonders.\n\n     \u201cFor, like the sun\u2019s fire or the moon\u2019s, a light\n      Far streaming through the high-roofed house did pass\n      From the long basement to the topmost height.\n      There on each side ran walls of flaming brass,\n      Zoned on the summit with a blue bright mass\n      Of cornice; and the doors were framed of gold;\n      Where, underneath, the brazen floor doth glass\n      Silver pilasters, which with grace uphold\n    Lintel of silver framed; the ring was burnished gold.\n\n     \u201cAnd dogs on each side of the doors there stand,\n      Silver and gold, the which in ancient day\n      Heph\u00e6stus wrought with cunning brain and hand,\n      And set for sentinels to hold the way.\n      Death cannot tame them, nor the years decay.\n      And from the shining threshold thrones were set,\n      Skirting the walls in lustrous long array,\n      On to the far room, where the women met,\n    With many a rich robe strewn and woven coverlet.\n\n     \u201cThere the Ph\u00e6acian chieftains eat and drink,\n      While golden youths on pedestals upbear\n      Each in his outstretched hand a lighted link,\n      Which nightly on the royal feast doth flare.\n      And in the house are fifty handmaids fair;\n      Some in the mill the yellow corn grind small;\n      Some ply the looms, and shuttles twirl, which there\n      Flash like the quivering leaves of aspen tall;\n    And from the close-spun weft the trickling oil will fall.\u201d\n\nKing Alcinous sits on his golden throne, \u201cquaffing his wine like a god.\u201d\nHis queen, Arete, sits beside him, weaving yarn of the royal purple.\nWarned by his kind friend the princess, Ulysses passes by the king\u2019s\nseat, and falls at the feet of the queen. In the court of\nPh\u00e6acia--whether the story be disguised fact or pure fiction, whether\nthe poet was satiric or serious--the ruling influence lies with the\nwomen. The mist in which Minerva had enveloped his person melts away;\nand while all gaze in astonishment at his sudden appearance, he claims\nhospitality as a shipwrecked wanderer, and then, after the fashion of\nsuppliants, seats himself on the hearth-stone. The hospitality of\nAlcinous is prompt and magnificent. He bids one of his sons rise up and\ncede the place of honour to the stranger. If he be mortal man, the boon\nhe asks shall be granted; but it may be that he is one of the immortals,\nwho, as he gravely assures his guest, often condescend to come down and\nshare the banquets of the Ph\u00e6acians, and make themselves known to them\nface to face. Ulysses assures his royal host, in a passage which is in\nitself sufficient to mark the subdued comedy of the episode, that far\nfrom having any claim to divinity, he is very mortal indeed, and wholly\ntaken up at present with one of the most inglorious of mortal\ncravings:--\n\n     \u201cNothing more shameless is than Appetite,\n      Who still, whatever anguish load our breast,\n      Makes us remember, in our own despite,\n      Both food and drink. Thus I, thrice wretched wight,\n      Carry of inward grief surpassing store,\n      Yet she constrains me with superior might,\n      Wipes clean away the memory-written score,\n    And takes whate\u2019er I give, and taking, craveth more.\u201d[33]\n\nThere is every appliance to satisfy appetite, however, in the luxurious\nhalls of Alcinous. While Ulysses is seated at table, Queen Arete,\ncareful housewife as she is with all her royalty, marks with some\ncuriosity that the raiment which their strange guest wears must have\ncome from her own household stores--so well does she know the work of\nherself and her handmaidens. This leads to a confession on Ulysses\u2019 part\nof his previous interview with Nausicaa, whom he praises, as he had good\nright to do, as wise beyond her years. So charmed is the king with his\nguest\u2019s taste and discernment, that he at once declares that nothing\nwould please him better than to retain him at his court in the\ncharacter of a son-in-law. Ulysses (whose fate it is throughout his\nwanderings to make himself only too interesting to the fair sex\ngenerally) is by this time too much accustomed to such proposals to show\nany embarrassment. With his usual diplomacy he puts the question\naside--bowing his acknowledgments only, it may be, though Homer does not\ntell us even so much as this. The one point to which he addresses\nhimself is the king\u2019s promise to send him safe home, which he accepts\nwith thankfulness. Before they retire for the night, the queen herself\ndoes not disdain to give special orders for their guest\u2019s accommodation.\nShe bids her maidens prepare\n\n      \u201cA couch beneath the echoing corridor,\n      And thereon spread the crimson carpets fair,\n      Then the wide coverlets of richness rare,\n      And to arrange the blankets warm and white,\n      Wherein who sleepeth straight forgets his care.\n      They then, each holding in her hand a light,\n    From the great hall pass forth, and spread the robes aright.\u201d\n\nThe combination of magnificence with simplicity is of a wholly Oriental\ncharacter. The appliances of the court might be those of a modern\nEastern potentate; yet the queen is a thrifty housekeeper, the\nprincess-royal superintends the family wash, and the five sons of the\nroyal family, when their sister comes home, themselves come forward and\nunyoke her mules from the wain which has brought home the linen.\n\nThe next day is devoted to feasting and games in honour of the stranger.\nAmongst the company sits the blind minstrel Demodocus, in whose person\nit has been thought that the poet describes himself--\n\n      \u201cWhom the Muse loved, and gave him good and ill;\n      Ill, that of light she did his eyes deprive,\n      Good, that sweet minstrelsies divine at will\n      She lent him, and a voice men\u2019s ears to thrill.\n      For him Pontonous silver-studded chair\n      Set with the feasters, leaning it with skill\n      Against the column, and with tender care\n    Made the blind fingers feel the harp suspended there.\u201d\n\nSuch honour has the bard in all lands. The king\u2019s son does not disdain\nto guide \u201cthe blind fingers;\u201d and when the song is over, the herald\nleads him carefully to his place at the banquet, where his portion is of\nthe choicest--\u201cthe chine of the white-tusked boar.\u201d The subject of his\nlay is the tale which charms all hearers--Ph\u00e6acian, Greek, or Roman,\nancient or modern, then as now--the tale of Troy. Touched with the\nremembrances which the song awakens, Ulysses wraps his face in his\nmantle to hide his rising tears. The king marks his guest\u2019s emotion: too\ncourteous to allude to it, he contents himself with rising at once from\nthe banquet-table, and giving order for the sports to begin. Foot-race,\nwrestling, quoit-throwing, and boxing, all have their turn; and in all\nthe king\u2019s\u2019 sons take their part, not unsuccessfully. It is suggested at\nlast that the stranger, who stands silently looking on, should exhibit\nsome feat of strength or skill. Ulysses declines--he has no heart just\nnow for pastimes. Then one of the young Ph\u00e6acians, Euryalus, who has\njust won the wrestling-match, gives vent to an ungracious taunt. Their\nguest, he says, is plainly no hero, nor versed in the noble science of\nathletics; he must be some skipper of a merchantman, \u201cwhose talk is all\nof cargoes.\u201d He brings down upon himself a grand rebuke from Ulysses:--\n\n      \u201cMan, thou hast not said well; a fool thou art.\n      Not all fair gifts to all doth God divide,\n      Eloquence, beauty, and a noble heart.\n      One seems in mien poor, but his feebler part\n      God crowns with language, that men learn to love\n      The form, so feelingly the sweet words dart\n      Within them. First in councils he doth prove,\n    And, \u2019mid the crowd observant, like a god doth move.\n\n      \u201cAnother, though in mould of form and face\n      Like the immortal gods he seems to be,\n      Hath no wise word to crown the outward grace\n      So is thine aspect fair exceedingly,\n      Wherein no blemish even a god might see;\n      Yet is thine understanding wholly vain.\u201d\n\nThen the hero who has thrown the mighty Ajax in the wrestling-ring, who\nis swifter of foot than any Greek except Achilles, and who has been\nawarded that matchless hero\u2019s arms as the prize of valour against all\ncompetitors,--rises in his wrath, and gives his gay entertainers a taste\nof his quality. Not deigning even to throw off his mantle, he seizes a\nhuge stone quoit, and hurls it, after a single swing, far beyond the\npoint reached by any of the late competitors. The astonished islanders\ncrouch to the ground as it sings through the air above their heads. Once\nroused, Ulysses launches out into the self-assertion which has been\nremarked as being common to all the heroes of Homeric story. He\nchallenges the whole circle of bystanders to engage with him in\nwhatsoever contest they will--\n\n    \u201cAll feats I know that are beneath the sun.\u201d\n\nHe will not, indeed, compare himself with some of the heroes of old,\nsuch as were Hercules and Eurytus;\n\n   \u201cBut of all else I swear that I stand first,\n    Such men as now upon the earth eat bread.\u201d\n\nNone of the Ph\u00e6acians will accept the challenge. The king commends the\nspirit in which the stranger has repelled the insult of Euryalus, and\nwith the gay good-humour which marks the Ph\u00e6acian character, confesses\nthat in feats of strength his nation can claim no real excellence, but\nonly in speed of foot and in seamanship; or, above all, in the dance--in\nthis no men can surpass them. His guest shall see and judge. Nine grave\nelders, by the king\u2019s command (and here the satire is evident, even if\nwe have lost the application) stand forth as masters of the ceremonies,\nand clear the lists for dancing. A band of selected youths perform an\nelaborate ballet, while the minstrel Demodocus sings to his harp a\nsportive lay, not over-delicate, of the stolen loves of Mars and Venus,\nand their capture in the cunning net of Vulcan. If it must be granted\nthat this song forms a strong exception to the purity of Homer\u2019s muse,\nit has also been fairly pleaded for him, that it is introduced as\ncharacteristic of an unwarlike nation and an effeminate society. But\neven in his lightest mood the poet has no sort of sympathy with a\nwife\u2019s unfaithfulness. He takes his gods and goddesses as he found them\nin the popular creed; bad enough, and far worse than the mortal men and\nwomen of his own poetical creation. But his own morals are far higher\nthan those of Olympus. Even in this questionable ballad of the Ph\u00e6acian\nminstrel the point of the jest is in strong contrast to some of the\ncomedies of a more modern school. It is on the detected culprits, not on\nthe injured husband, that the ridicule of gods and men is mercilessly\nshowered. When the ballet is concluded, two of the king\u2019s sons, at their\nfather\u2019s bidding, perform a sort of minuet, in which ball-play is\nintroduced. Ulysses expresses his admiration of the whole performance in\nwords which sound like solemn irony:--\n\n   \u201cO king, pre-eminent in word and deed,\n    Of late thy lips the threatening vaunt did make\n    That these thy dancers all the world exceed--\n    Now have I seen fulfilment of thy rede;\n    Yea, wonder holds me while I gaze thereon.\u201d\n\nSo all passes off with pleasant compliments between hosts and guest. The\nking and his twelve peers present Ulysses with costly gifts, and\nEuryalus, in pledge of regret for his late unseemly speech, offers his\nown silver-hilted sword with its ivory scabbard.\n\nFrom the games they pass again to the banquet; and one more glimpse is\ngiven us of the gentle Nausicaa, perfectly in keeping with the maiden\nguilelessness of her character. Ulysses--still radiant with the more\nthan human beauty which the goddess has bestowed upon him--moves to his\nplace in the hall.\n\n      \u201cHe from the bath, cleansed from the dust of toil,\n      Passed to the drinkers; and Nausicaa there\n      Stood, moulded by the gods exceeding fair.\n      She on the roof-tree pillar leaning, heard\n      Odysseus; turning, she beheld him near.\n      Deep in her breast admiring wonder stirred,\n    And in a low sweet voice she spake this winged word.\n\n      \u201c\u2018Hail, stranger-guest! when fatherland and wife\n      Thou shalt revisit, then remember me,\n      Since to me first thou owest the price of life.\u2019\n      And to the royal virgin answered he:\n      \u2018Child of a generous sire, if willed it be\n      By Thunderer Zeus, who all dominion hath,\n      That I my home and dear return yet see,\n      There at thy shrine will I devote my breath,\n    There worship thee, dear maid, my saviour from dark death.\u2019\u201d\n\nIt is not easy to discover, with any certainty, what the Greek poet\nmeant us to understand as to the feelings of Nausicaa towards Ulysses.\nIt has been said that Love, in the complex modern acceptation of the\nterm, is unknown to the Greek poets. Nor is there, in this passage, any\napproach to the expression of such a feeling on the part of the\nprincess. Yet, had the scene found place in the work of a modern poet,\nwe should have understood at once that, without any kind of reproach to\nthe perfect maidenly delicacy of Nausicaa, it was meant to show us the\ndawn of a tender sentiment--nothing more--towards the stranger-guest\nwhom the gods had endowed with such majestic graces of person, who stood\nso high above all rivals in feats of strength and skill, whose\nmisfortunes surrounded him with a double interest, and, above all, in\nwhom she felt a kind of personal property as his deliverer.\n\nThe Greek historian Plutarch chivalrously defends the young princess\nfrom the charge of forwardness, which ungallant critics brought against\nher as early as his day. It was no marvel, he says, that she knew and\nvalued a hero when she saw him, and preferred him to the carpet-knights\nof her own country, who were good only at the dance and the banquet. But\nwith her it was, after all, a sentiment, and no more; but which might\nhave ripened into love, under other circumstances, had the hero of her\nmaiden fancy been as free to choose as she was.\n\nSo vanishes from the page one of the sweetest creations of Greek\nfiction--the more charming to us, as coming nearest, perhaps, of all to\nthe modern type of feeling. The farewell to Nausicaa is briefly said;\nand Ulysses, sitting by King Alcinous at the banquet, pays a high\ncompliment to the blind minstrel, and gives him a new theme for song.\nSince he knows so well the story of the great Siege, let him now take\nhis lyre, and sing to them of the wondrous Horse. Demodocus obeys. He\nsings how the Greeks, hopeless of taking Troy by force of arms, had\nrecourse at last to stratagem: how they constructed a huge framework in\nthe shape of a horse, ostensibly an offering to the gods, and then set\nfire to their sea-camp, and sailed away--for home, to all\nappearance--leaving an armed company hidden in the womb of the wooden\nmonster; how the Trojans, after much doubt, dragged it inside their\nwalls, and how, in the night-time, the Greeks issued from their strange\nambush, and spread fire and sword through the devoted city. And all\nalong Ulysses is the hero of the lay. He is the leader of the venturous\nband who thus carried their lives in their hands into the midst of their\nenemies: he it is who, \u201clike unto Mars,\u201d storms the house of Deiphobus,\nwho had taken Helen to wife after the death of his brother Paris, and\nrestores the Spartan princess to her rightful lord. Tears of emotion\nagain fill the listener\u2019s eyes; and again the courteous king bids the\nminstrel cease, when he sees that some chord of mournful remembrance is\nstruck in the heart of his guest. But he now implores him, as he has\ngood right to do, to tell them who he really is. Why does the Tale of\nTroy so move him? The answer, replies the stranger, will be a long tale,\nand sad to tell; but his very name, he proudly says, is a history--\u201cI am\nUlysses, son of Laertes!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nULYSSES TELLS HIS STORY TO ALCINOUS.\n\n\nThe narrative, which Ulysses proceeds to relate to his host, takes back\nhis story to the departure of the Greek fleet from Troy. First, on his\nhomeward course, he and his comrades had landed on the coast of Thrace,\nand laid waste the town of the Ciconians. Instead of putting to sea\nagain with their plunder, the crews stayed to feast on the captured\nbeeves and the red wine. \u201cWrapt in the morning mist,\u201d large bodies of\nthe natives surprised them at this disadvantage, and they had to\nre-embark with considerable loss. This was the beginning of their\ntroubles. They were rounding the southern point of Greece, when a storm\nbore them out far to sea, and not until sunset on the tenth day did they\nreach an unknown shore--the land of the Lotus-eaters--\n\n      \u201cWho, on the green earth couched beside the main,\n    Seemed ever with sweet food their lips to entertain.\u201d\n\nTo determine the geography of the place is as difficult as to ascertain\nthe natural history of the lotus, though critics have been very\nconfident in doing both.[34] The effect of the seductive food on the\ncompanions of Ulysses is thus described:--\n\n      \u201cAnd whoso tasted of their flowery meat\n      Cared not with tidings to return, but clave\n      Fast to that tribe, for ever fain to eat,\n    Reckless of home-return, the tender Lotus sweet.\u201d\n\nThose who ate of it had to be dragged back by main force to their\ngalleys, and bound fast with thongs, so loath were they to leave that\nshore of peaceful rest and forgetfulness. In the words of our own poet,\nwho has founded one of the most imaginative of his poems on this\nincident of Ulysses\u2019 voyage, so briefly told by Homer--\n\n   \u201cMost weary seemed the sea, weary the oar,\n    Weary the wandering fields of barren foam.\n    Then some one said--\u2018We will return no more:\u2019\n    And all at once they sang--\u2018Our island-home\n    Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam.\u2019\u201d[35]\n\nIt has been thought that here we have possibly the bread-fruit tree of\nthe South Sea Islands, with some hint of the effect produced by their\nsoft and enervating climate, and that the voyage of Ulysses anticipated\nin some degree the discoveries of Anson and Cook. It is curious that, in\nCook\u2019s case, the seductions of those islands gave him the same trouble\nas they did Ulysses; for several of his crew thought, like the Greek\nsailors, that they had found an earthly paradise for which they\ndetermined to forget home and country, and had to be brought back to\ntheir ship by force. But the lotus-land of the poet is an ideal shore,\nto which some of us moderns may have travelled as well as Ulysses. Its\ndeepest recesses will have been reached by the Buddhist who attains his\ncoveted state of perfect beatitude, the \u201cNirv\u00e2na,\u201d in which a man has\nfound out that all having and being, and more especially doing, are a\nmistake. It is the _dolce far niente_ of the Italian; the region free\nfrom all cares and responsibilities--\u201cbeyond the domain of\nconscience\u201d--which Charles Lamb, half in jest and half in earnest,\nsighed for.\n\nBearing away from the shore of the Lotus-eaters, Ulysses and his crew\nnext reached the island where the Cyclops dwell--a gigantic tribe of\nrude shepherds, monsters in form, having but one eye planted in the\ncentre of their foreheads, who know neither laws, nor arts, nor\ncommerce. Adventure and discovery have always a charm for Ulysses; and\nit was with no other motive, as he pretty plainly confesses, that he\nlanded with his own ship\u2019s crew to explore these unknown regions. The\npresent adventure had a horrible conclusion for some of his companions.\nAlone, in a vast cave near the shore, dwelt the giant Polyphemus, a son\nof Neptune the sea-god, and folded his flocks in its deep recesses. They\ndid not find the monster within: but the pails of brimming milk, and\nhuge piles of cheese, stood ranged in order round the walls of the\ncavern. Nothing would satisfy Ulysses but to await the owner\u2019s return.\nAt evening he came, driving his flocks before him; and, as was his wont,\nbegan to busy himself in his dairy operations. By the red glow of the\nfirelight he soon discovered the intruders, as they crouched in a\ncorner. In vain they made appeal to his hospitality, reminding him that\nstrangers were under the special care of Jupiter. What care the Cyclops\nrace for the gods? So he seized two of the unhappy Greeks, dashed them\non the ground--\u201clike puppies\u201d--devoured them, blood, bones, and all,\nafter the manner of giants, and washed down his horrible supper with\nhuge bowls of milk. Two more furnished him with breakfast in the\nmorning. But the craft of Ulysses was more than a match for the savage.\nHe had carried with him on his dangerous expedition (having a kind of\npresentiment that it would prove useful) a skin of wine of rare quality\nand potency, and of this he gave Polyphemus to drink after his last\ncannibal meal. Charmed with the delicious draught, the giant begged to\nknow his benefactor\u2019s name. The answer of Ulysses is the oldest specimen\non record of the art of punning.\n\n      \u201c\u2018Hear then; my name is Noman. From of old\n      My father, mother, these my comrades bold,\n      Give me this title.\u2019 So I spake, and he\n      Answered at once with mind of ruthless mould:\n      \u2018This shall fit largess unto Noman be--\n    Last, after all thy peers, I promise to eat thee.\u201d\n\nThen, overcome by the potent drink, the savage lay down to sleep.\nUlysses had prepared the thin end of a huge club of olive-wood, and\nthis, pointed and well hardened in the fire, he and his comrades thrust\ninto his single eye-ball, boring it deep in, \u201cas the shipwright doth an\nauger.\u201d Roaring with pain, and now fairly sobered, Polyphemus awoke, and\nshouted for help to his brother-Cyclops who dwelt in the neighbouring\nvalleys. They came; but to all their questions as to what was the\nmatter, or who had injured him, he only answered \u201c_Noman!_\u201d--and his\nfriends turned away in disgust. After groping vainly round the cave in\nsearch of his tormentors, Polyphemus rolled the huge stone from the\nmouth of his den, and let his sheep go out, feeling among them for his\ncaptives, who would probably try thus to escape. But again the wit of\nthe Ithacan chief proved too subtle for his enemy. The great sheep had\nbeen cunningly linked together three abreast, and every middle sheep\ncarried a Greek tied under his belly; Ulysses, after tying the last of\nhis companions, clinging fast to the wool of a huge ram, the king of the\nflock. So did they all escape to rejoin their anxious comrades. But when\nall had embarked, and rowed to a safe distance, then Ulysses stood high\nupon his deck, and shouted a taunting defiance to his enemy. The answer\nof Polyphemus was a huge rock hurled with all his might towards the\nvoice, which fell just short of the vessel. Again Ulysses shouted, and\nbade him tell those who should hereafter ask him who did the deed, that\nit was even Ulysses the Ithacan. The Cyclops groaned with rage and\ngrief--an ancient oracle had forewarned him of the name; but will the\ngreat Ulysses please to return, that he may entertain such a hero\nhandsomely? He would have shown himself more simple than his enemy if he\nhad. Then the blind monster lifted his cry to his great father the\nSea-god, and implored his vengeance on his destroyer.\n\nThe one-eyed giant of Homer\u2019s story became a very popular comic\ncharacter in classical fiction. The only specimen of the old Greek\nsatyric drama, as it was called--a peculiar kind of comedy, in which\nsatyrs were largely introduced--is a play by Euripides, \u2018The Cyclops,\u2019\nin which the principal incident is the blinding of Polyphemus by\nUlysses. The monster rushes out of his cave, with his eye-socket burnt\nand bleeding, and stretches his arms across the entrance to intercept\nthe escape of Ulysses, who creeps out between his legs. He roars out\nwith pain, and is taunted by the \u201cChorus,\u201d--a party of satyrs whom he\nhas made his slaves, and who now rejoice in their deliverance.\n\n\u201c_Chorus._ Why make this bawling, Cyclops?\n\n_Cyclops._                                 I am lost!\n\n_Ch._ Thou\u2019rt dirty, anyhow.\n\n_Cyc._                       Yea, and wretched too!\n\n_Ch._ What! hast got drunk, and fallen into the fire?\n\n_Cyc._ Noman hath slain me!\n\n_Ch._                       Then thou\u2019rt wronged by no man.\n\n_Cyc._ Noman hath blinded me!\n\n_Ch._                          Then thou\u2019rt not blind.\n\n_Cyc._ Would ye were so!--\n\n_Ch._                      Why, how could _no man_ blind thee?\n\n_Cyc._ Ye mock me.--Where is Noman?\n\n_Ch._                               Nowhere, Cyclops.\n\n_Cyc._ O friends, if ye would know the truth, yon wretch\n       Hath been my ruin--gave me drink, and drowned me!\n\n_Ch._ Ay--wine is strong, we know, and hard to deal with.\n\nThe poet Theocritus, in one of his Idylls, gives us Polyphemus, before\nhis blindness, in love with the beautiful nymph Galat\u00e6a, who, having\nanother lover with two eyes in the young shepherd Acis, does not\nencourage the addresses of the Cyclops. This is part of his\nremonstrance:--\n\n   \u201cI know, sweet maiden, why thou art so coy;\n    Shaggy and huge, a single eyebrow spans\n    From ear to ear my forehead, whence one eye\n    Gleams, and an o\u2019er-broad nostril o\u2019er my lip.\n    Yet I--this monster--feed a thousand sheep,\n    That yield me sweetest draughts at milking-tide.\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    But thou mislik\u2019st my hair?--Well, oaken logs\n    Are here, and embers yet a-glow with fire;\n    Burn, if thou wilt, my heart out, and my eye--\n    My lonely eye, wherein is my delight.\u201d\n            --Theocritus, Idyll xi. (Calverley\u2019s transl.)\n\nThis love-story of the Cyclops is better known, perhaps, to English\nreaders, through Handel\u2019s Pastoral, \u2018Acis and Galat\u00e6a.\u2019\n\nThe imprecation of Polyphemus was heard, and Ulysses was long to suffer\nthe penalty of his bold deed. Yet, but for the weakness of his comrades,\nhe might perhaps have escaped it. For, as they sailed on over unknown\nseas, they won the friendship of the King of the Winds. He feasted them\na whole month on his brass-bound island; and he, too, like all the world\nof gods and men, asked eagerly for the last news of the heroes of Troy.\nSo charmed was \u00c6olus with his guest, that on his departure he presented\nUlysses with an ox-hide tied with a silver cord, in which all the winds\nwere safely confined, save only Zephyr, who was left loose to waft the\nvoyagers safely home. So for nine days and nights they ran straight for\nIthaca, Ulysses himself at the helm, for he would trust it to no other\nhand. And now they had come in sight of the rocks of their beloved\nisland--so near that they could see the smoke go up from the herdsmen\u2019s\ncamp-fires; when, overcome with long watching, the chief fell asleep\nupon the deck. Then the greed and curiosity of his companions tempted\nthem to examine the ox-hide bag. It must be some rich treasure, surely,\nthus carefully tied up and stowed away. They opened it; out rushed the\nimprisoned blasts, and drove them back in miserable plight to the island\nof \u00c6olus,--much to that monarch\u2019s astonishment. In vain did Ulysses tell\nhis unlucky story, and beg further help from the ruler of the storms;\n\u00c6olus would have nothing more to do with such an ill-starred wretch,\nupon whom there rested so manifestly the curse of heaven, but drove him\nand his companions out to sea again with ignominy.\n\nA second time the voyagers fell into the hands of cannibals. They moored\ntheir ships in the harbour of the L\u00e6strygonians,--in the description of\nwhich there has been lately traced a strong likeness to the bay of\nBalaclava--\n\n                      \u201cA rock-surrounded bay,\n    Whence fronting headlands at the mouth outrun,\n    Leaving a little narrow entrance-way,\n    Wherethrough they drive the vessels one by one.\u201d\n\nThese L\u00e6strygonians were a giant race, like the Cyclops, and of an\nequally barbarous character. One of the exploring party, whom Ulysses\nsent to reconnoitre, they seized and devoured on the spot, and then\nhurled rocks down on the ships as they lay moored in the land-locked\nharbour, and speared the unfortunate crews, \u201clike fish,\u201d as they swam\nfrom the wrecks. Ulysses only had moored outside, and escaped with his\nsingle ship by cutting his cable.\n\nPursuing his sad voyage, he had reached the island of \u00c6\u00e6a, where dwelt\nthe enchantress Circe \u201cof the bright hair,\u201d daughter of the Sun. Here he\ndivided his small remaining force into two bands, one of which, under\nhis lieutenant, Eurylochus, explored the interior of the island, while\nUlysses and the rest kept guard by their ship. Hidden deep in the woods,\nthey came upon the palace of Circe.\n\n      \u201cWolves of the mountain all around the way,\n      And lions, softened by the spells divine,\n      As each her philters had partaken, lay.\n      These cluster round the men\u2019s advancing line\n      Fawning like dogs, who, when their lord doth dine,\n      Wait till he issues from the banquet-hall,\n      And for the choice gifts which his hands assign\n      Fawn, for he ne\u2019er forgets them--so these all\n    Fawn on our friends, whom much the unwonted sights appal.\n\n      \u201cSoon at her vestibule they pause, and hear\n      A voice of singing from a lovely place,\n      Where Circe weaves her great web year by year,\n      So shining, slender, and instinct with grace\n      As weave the daughters of immortal race.\u201d\n\nThe abode of Circe presents quite a different picture from the grotto of\nCalypso.[36] There, all the beauties were those of nature in her\nuntouched luxuriance; here we have all the splendour of an Oriental\ninterior, enriched with elaborate art--wide halls of polished marble,\nsilver-studded couches, and vessels of gold.\n\nThrowing wide the shining doors, the enchantress gaily bade them enter;\nand all, save only the more prudent Eurylochus, accepted the invitation.\nThey drank of her drugged cup; then she struck them with her wand, and\nlo! they became swine in form, yet retaining their human senses.\nEurylochus, after long watching in vain for the reappearance of his\ncomrades, returned alone with his strange tale to his chief, who at once\nset forth to the rescue. On his way through the forest, he was suddenly\naccosted by a fair youth, bearing a wand of gold--none other than the\ngod Mercury--who gave him a root of wondrous virtue--\n\n    \u201cBlack, with a milk-white flower, in heavenly tongue\n     Called Moly.\u201d[37]\n\nArmed with this, he can defy all Circe\u2019s enchantments. She mixed for him\nthe same draught, struck him with her wand, and bid him \u201cgo herd with\nhis companions;\u201d but potion and spell had lost their power. Circe had\nfound her master, and knew it could be no other than \u201cthe many-wiled\nUlysses,\u201d of whose visit she had been forewarned. Not even the magic\nvirtues of the herb Moly, however, enable him to resist her proffered\nlove; and Ulysses, by his own confession, forgot Penelope in the halls\nof Circe, as afterwards in the island of Calypso. It may be offered as\nhis apology, that it was absolutely necessary for him to make himself\nagreeable to his hostess, in order to obtain from her (as he does at\nonce) the deliverance of his companions from her toils; but this does\nnot explain his sending for the rest of his crew from the ship, and\nspending a whole year in her society. The ingenious critics who insist\non shaping a moral allegory out of the story of the Odyssey confess to\nhaving found a stumbling-block in this point of the narrative. It sounds\nvery plausible to say that in Circe is personified sensual pleasure;\nthat those who partake of her cup, and are turned into swine, are those\nwho brutalise themselves by such indulgences; that the herb Moly--black\nat the root, but white and beautiful in the blossom--symbolises\n\u201cinstruction\u201d or \u201ctemperance,\u201d by which the temptations of sense are to\nbe resisted. But Ulysses\u2019 victory over the enchantress, and his\nsubsequent relations to her, fall in but awkwardly with any moral of any\nkind. To say that Ulysses knows how to indulge his appetites with\nmoderation, and therefore escapes the penalties of excess--that he is\nthe master of Pleasure, while his companions become its slaves--is to\nmake the parable teach a very questionable form of morality indeed,\nsince it represents self-indulgence as praiseworthy, if we can only\nmanage to escape the consequences.\n\nBut it was not until Ulysses had been reminded by his companions that he\nwas forgetting his fatherland, that he besought his fair entertainer to\nlet him go. Reluctantly she consented, bound by her oath--warning him,\nas they parted, that toil and peril lay before him, and that if he would\nlearn his future fate, he must visit the Regions of the Dead, and there\nconsult the shade of the great prophet Tiresias.\n\nUlysses goes on to describe to the king of the Ph\u00e6acians his voyage on\nfrom the island of \u00c6\u00e6a, under the favouring gales which Circe sends\nhim:--\n\n     \u201cAll the day long the silvery foam we clave,\n      Wind in the well-stretched canvas following free,\n      Till the sun stooped beneath the western wave,\n      And darkness veiled the spaces of the sea.\n      Then to the limitary land came we\n      Of the sea-river, streaming deep, where dwell,\n      Shrouded in mist and gloom continually,\n      That people, from sweet light secluded well,\n    The dark Cimmerian tribe, who skirt the realms of hell.\u201d\n\nWho these Cimmerians were is not easily discoverable. Their name was\nheld by the Greeks a synonym for all that was dark and barbarous in the\nmists of antiquity. It appears, nevertheless, in the earlier historians\nas the appellation of a real people; some rash ethnologists, tempted\nchiefly by the similarity of name, have tried to identify them with the\nCymry--the early settlers of Wales. The Welsh are notoriously proud of\ntheir ancient origin, but it is doubtful how far they would accept the\npoet\u2019s description of their ancestral darkness, or the neighbourhood to\nwhich he here assigns them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nTHE TALE CONTINUED--THE VISIT TO THE SHADES.\n\n\nThe eleventh book of the poem, in which Ulysses goes down to the Shades\nto consult the Dead, has been considered by some good authorities as a\nlater interpolation into the tale. The solemn grandeur of the whole\nepisode is remarked as out of character with the light and easy\nnarrative into which it has been woven. Be this as it may, the passage\nhas a strong interest in itself. It is the solitary glimpse which we\nhave of the poet\u2019s creed as to the state of disembodied spirits. It is\nat least not in contradiction to the views which are disclosed--scantily\nenough--by the author of the Iliad, though here we find them\nconsiderably more developed. It is a gloomy picture at the best; and we\nalmost cease to wonder at the shrinking from death which is so often\ndisplayed by the Homeric heroes, when we find their future state\nrepresented as something almost worse, to an active mind, than\nannihilation.\n\n    \u201cNever the Sun that giveth light to men\n     Looks down upon them with his golden eye,\n     Or when he climbs the starry arch, or when\n     Slope toward the earth he wheels adown the sky;\n     But sad night weighs upon them wearily.\u201d\n\nThey reached the spot, says Ulysses, described to him at parting by\nCirce, where the dark rivers Acheron and Cocytus mix at the entrance\ninto Hades. The incantations which she had carefully enjoined were duly\nmade; a black ram and ewe were offered to the powers of darkness, and\ntheir blood poured into the trench which he had dug--\u201ca cubit every\nway.\u201d\n\n     \u201cForthwith from Erebus a phantom crowd\n      Loomed forth, the shadowy people of the dead,--\n      Old men, with load of earthly anguish bowed,\n      Brides in their bloom cut off, and youths unwed,\n      Virgins whose tender eyelids then first shed\n      True sorrow, men with gory arms renowned,\n      Pierced by the sharp sword on the death-plain red.\n      All these flock darkling with a hideous sound,\n    Lured by the scent of blood, the open trench around.\u201d\n\nBut he had been charged by Circe not to allow the ghastly crew to slake\ntheir thirst, until he had evoked the shade of Tiresias, the blind\nprophet of Thebes, who retained his art and his honours even in these\nregions of the dead. So he kept them off with his sword,--not suffering\neven the phantom of his dead mother Anticleia, who came among the rest,\nto taste, until the great prophet appeared, leaning on his golden staff.\n\n                          \u201cTo the bloody brink\n    He stooped, and with his shadowy lips made shrink\n    The sacrificial pool that darkling lay\n    Beneath him.\u201d\n\nFrom the lips of Tiresias Ulysses has learnt the future which awaits\nhim. On the coast of Sicily he should find pasturing the herds and\nflocks of the Sun: if he and his comrades left them uninjured, they\nshould soon see again their native Ithaca; if they laid sacrilegious\nhands on them, he alone should escape, and reach home after long\nsuffering.\n\nThe shade of his mother has been sitting meanwhile in gloomy silence,\neyeing the coveted blood. Not until she had drank of it might she open\nher lips to speak, or have power to recognise her son. To his eager\ninquiries as to her own fate and that of his father Laertes she made\nanswer that she herself had died of grief, and that the old man was\nwearing out a joyless life in bitter anxiety.\n\n    \u201cTherewith she ended, and a deep unrest\n     Urged me to clasp the spirit of the dead,\n     And fold a phantom to my yearning breast.\n     Thrice I essayed, with eager hands out-spread\n     Thrice like a shadow or a dream she fled,\n     And my hands closed on unsubstantial air.\u201d\n\nAs they talked together, there swept forth out of the gloom a crowd of\nfemale shapes--the mothers of the mighty men of old. There came Tyro,\nbeloved by the sea-god Neptune, from whom sprang Neleus, father of\nNestor: next followed Antiope, who bore to Jupiter Amphion and Zethus,\nwho built the seven-gated Thebes; Iphimedeia, mother of the giants Otus\nand Ephialtes, who strove to take heaven itself by storm; Alcmena, Leda,\nAriadne, and a crowd of the heroines of Greek romance, who had found the\nloves of the gods more or less disastrous in their earthly lot, and who\nwere reaping, in the gloomy immortality which the poet assigns them,\nsuch consolation as they might from knowing themselves the mothers of\nheroes.\n\nHere Ulysses would have ended his tale, and for a while a charmed\nsilence falls upon his Ph\u00e6acian audience. But the king would hear more.\nDid he see, in the realms of the dead, no one of those renowned\nchampions who had fought with him at Troy?\n\nYes--if his host cares to listen, Ulysses can tell him a sad tale of\nsome of his old comrades. He saw the great Agamemnon there, and heard\nfrom his lips the treachery of the adulterous Clytemnestra. Antilochus\nand Patroclus, too, he had recognised, and Ajax; but the latter,\nretaining in the world below the animosities of earthly life, had stood\nfar aloof, and sullenly refused to speak a word in answer to his\nsuccessful rival. The only one who reveals anything of the secrets of\nhis prison-house is Achilles. He asks of his adventurous visitor what\nhas prompted him to risk this intrusion into the gloomy dwelling, where\nthe dead live indeed, but without thought or purpose, mere shadows of\nwhat they were. And when Ulysses attempts to comfort him with the\nthought of the deathless glory which surrounds his name, the\nhopelessness of his answer sets forth, in the darkest colours, that\ngloomy view of human destiny which breaks out from time to time in the\ncreed of the poet, and which belongs to the character of his favourite\nhero. Whether the Odyssey did or did not come from the same hand as the\nIliad, at least Achilles is the same in both. In the former poem we\nfind him indulging in all the mournful irony of the Hebrew Preacher, in\nhis perplexed thought before he was led to \u201cthe conclusion of the whole\nmatter\u201d--complaining, like him, that \u201cone event happeneth to all,\u201d and\nthat \u201cthe wise man dieth as the fool;\u201d that he, the bravest and most\nbeautiful of living heroes, would have to meet the same lot as his\nvictim Lycaon; so here, in the Odyssey, he adopts the text that \u201ca\nliving dog is better than a dead lion:\u201d--\n\n   \u201cRather would I, in the sun\u2019s warmth divine,\n    Serve some poor churl who drags his days in grief,\n    Than the whole lordship of the dead were mine.\u201d\n\nSuch was the immortality to which Paganism condemned even its best and\nbravest.\n\nOne touching inquiry both Agamemnon and Achilles put to their visitor\nfrom the upper world. How fare their sons? Where is Orestes?--asks the\ngreat king. Did Neoptolemus, in the later days of the war, prove himself\nworthy of his father?--inquires Achilles. When he has been assured of\nthis, the shade of the mighty hero, well satisfied,\n\n    \u201cPassed striding through the fields of asphodel.\u201d\n\nThere is no distinct principle of reward or punishment discernible in\nthe regions of the dead, as seen by Ulysses. Indeed, anything like\nhappiness in this shadowy future seems incompatible with the feelings\nput into the mouth of Achilles. Orion, the mighty hunter, appears to\nenjoy something like the Red Indian\u2019s paradise--pursuing, in those\nshadowy fields, the phantoms of the wild creatures which he slew on\nearth; but, with this exception, there is no hint of pleasurable\ninterest or occupation for the mighty dead. Punishments there are for\nnotorious offenders against the majesty of the gods:--\n\n     \u201cThere also Tantalus in anguish stood,\n      Plunged in the stream of a translucent lake;\n      And to his chin welled ever the cold flood.\n      But when he rushed, in fierce desire to break\n      His torment, not one drop could he partake.\n      For as the old man stooping seems to meet\n      That water with his fiery lips, and slake\n      The frenzy of wild thirst, around his feet,\n    Leaving the dark earth dry, the shuddering waves retreat.\n\n     \u201cAlso the thick-leaved arches overhead\n      Fruit of all savour in profusion flung,\n      And in his clasp rich clusters seemed to shed.\n      There citrons waved, with shining fruitage hung,\n      Pears and pomegranates, olive ever young,\n      And the sweet-mellowing fig: but whensoe\u2019er\n      The old man, fain to cool his burning tongue,\n      Clutched with his fingers at the branches fair,\n    Came a strong wind and whirled them skyward through the air.\u201d\n\n     \u201cAnd I saw Sisyphus in travail strong\n      Shove with both hands a mighty sphere of stone:\n      With feet and sinewy wrists he, labouring long,\n      Just pushed the vast globe up, with many a groan;\n      But when he thought the huge mass to have thrown\n      Clean o\u2019er the summit, the enormous weight\n      Back to the nether plain rolled tumbling down.\n      He, straining, the great toil resumed, while sweat\n    Bathed each laborious limb, and his brow smoked with heat.\u201d\n\nBoth these are examples of punishment inflicted in the Shades below, not\nfor an evil life, but for personal offences against the sovereign of the\ngods. Tantalus had been admitted as a guest to the banquet of the\nimmortals, and had stolen their nectar and ambrosia to give to his\nfellow-men. Sisyphus had been, it is true, a notorious robber on earth,\nbut the penalty assigned him was for the higher crime of betraying an\namour of Jupiter\u2019s which had come to his knowledge. The stone of\nSisyphus has been commonly taken as an illustration of labour spent in\nvain; but a modern English poet has found in it a beautiful illustration\nof the indestructibility of hope. In one of Lord Lytton\u2019s \u2018Tales of\nMiletus,\u2019 when Orpheus visits the Shades in search of his lost wife--\n\n   \u201cHe heard, tho\u2019 in the midst of Erebus,\n    Song sweet as his Muse-mother made his own;\n    It broke forth from a solitary ghost,\n            Who, up a vaporous hill,\n\n    \u201cHeaved a huge stone that came rebounding back,\n    And still the ghost upheaved it and still sang.\n    In the brief pause from toil while towards the height\n            Reluctant rolled the stone,\n\n    \u201cThe Thracian asked in wonder, \u2018Who art thou,\n    Voiced like Heaven\u2019s lark amidst the night of Hell?\u2019\n    \u2018My name on earth was Sisyphus,\u2019 replied\n            The phantom. \u2018In the Shades\n\n    \u201cI keep mine earthly wit; I have duped the Three.[38]\n    They gave me work for torture; work is joy.\n    Slaves work in chains, and to the clank they sing.\u2019\n            Said Orpheus, \u2018Slaves still hope!\u2019\n\n    \u201c\u2018And could I strain to heave up the huge stone\n    Did I not hope that it would reach the height?\n    There penance ends, and dawn Elysian fields.\u2019\n            \u2018But if it never reach?\u2019\n\n    \u201cThe Thracian sighed, as looming through the mist\n    The stone came whirling back. \u2018Fool,\u2019 said the ghost,\n    \u2018Then mine, at worst, is everlasting hope.\u2019\n            Again uprose the stone.\u201d\n\nUlysses confesses that he did not see all he might have seen; for, when\nthe pale ghosts in their ten thousands crowded round him with wild\ncries, the hero lost courage, fled back to his ship, and bade his\ncomrades loose their cables, and put out at once to sea.\n\nThey passed the island where the twin sisters, the Sirens, lay couched\nin flowers, luring all passing mariners to their destruction by the\nfascination of their song. Forewarned by Circe, the chief had stopped\nthe ears of all his crew with melted wax, and had made them bind him to\nthe mast, giving them strict charge on no account to release him,\nhowever he might entreat or threaten--for he himself, true to his\npassion for adventure, would fain listen to these dangerous\nenchantresses. So, as they drifted close along the shore, the Sirens\nlifted their voices and sang as follows--every word of Mr Worsley\u2019s\ntranslation is Homer\u2019s, except the single phrase in brackets:--\n\n      \u201cHither, Odysseus, great Achaian name,\n      Turn thy swift keel, and listen to our lay;\n      Since never pilgrim to these regions came\n      In black ship [on the azure waves astray],\n      But heard our sweet voice ere he sailed away,\n      And in his joy passed on, with ampler mind.\n      We know what labours were in ancient day\n      Wrought in wide Troia, as the gods assigned;\n    We know from land to land all toils of all mankind.\u201d\n\nBut the deaf crew rowed on, and not until the sound of the strain had\ndied away in the distance did they unbind their captain, in spite of his\nangry protests. They pass the strait that divides Sicily from\nItaly, where on either hand lurked the monsters Scylla and\nCharybdis--impersonations, it may be, of rocks and whirlpools--but which\nthey escaped, with the loss of six out of the crew, by help of Circe\u2019s\nwarnings and directions. But that our own Spenser\u2019s \u2018Faery Queen\u2019 is\nperhaps even less known to the majority of English readers than the\nOdyssey of Homer (by grace of popular translations), it might be\nneedless to remind them how the whole of Sir Guyon\u2019s voyage on the \u201cIdle\nLake\u201d is nothing more or less than a reproduction of this portion of\nUlysses\u2019 adventures.[39] The five mermaidens, who entrap unwary\ntravellers with their melody, address the knight as he floats by in a\nstrain which is the echo of the Sirens\u2019--\n\n     \u201cO thou fayre son of gentle F\u00e4ery,\n      That art in mightie arms most magnifyde\n      Above all knights that ever batteill tryde,\n      O turn thy rudder hitherwarde awhile:\n      Here may thy storme-bett vessell safely ryde:\n      This is the port of rest from troublous toyle,\n    The worldes sweet Inn from pain and wearisome turmoyle.\u201d\n\nThe enchantress Acrasia, with her transformed lovers--the \u201cseeming\nbeasts who are men in deed\u201d--is but a copy from Circe; while the \u201cGulf\nof Greediness\u201d yawning on one side of the Lake--\n\n    \u201cThat deep engorgeth all this world\u00ebs prey\u201d--\n\nand on the other side the \u201cRock of Vile Reproach,\u201d whose fatal magnetic\npower draws in all who try to shun the whirlpool opposite, are the\nScylla and Charybdis of Homer.\n\nAt length the voyagers reached the shore where the oxen of the Sun were\npastured. In vain did Ulysses, remembering the prophecy of Tiresias, bid\nthem steer on and leave the land unvisited. Eurylochus, his lieutenant,\nbroke out at last into something like mutiny. He had some show of\nreason, when he complained of his chief, almost in the words of Sir\nDinadan to Sir Tristram in the \u2018Morte d\u2019Arthur,\u2019 that he was tired of\nsuch mad company, and would no longer follow a man to whose iron frame\nthe toils and dangers which wore out ordinary mortals were a mere\ndisport. Seeing that the rest backed Eurylochus in his proposal to land\nand rest, Ulysses was fain to give way, after exacting a vow that at\nleast none of them should lay sacrilegious hands upon the sacred herds,\nsince they had store of corn and wine, the parting gifts of Circe, on\nboard their vessel. But stress of weather detained them in the anchorage\na whole month, until corn and wine were exhausted, and they had to snare\nbirds and catch fish--a kind of food which a Greek seaman especially\ndespised--to keep them from starving. Then at last, while their chief\nhad withdrawn to a quiet spot, and fallen asleep wearied with long\nprayer, Eurylochus persuaded the rest to break their vow, and slay the\nchoicest of the oxen. Terrible prodigies followed the unhallowed meal;\nthe skins of the slain animals moved and crawled after their slayers,\nand the meat, while roasting on the spits, uttered fearful cries and\ngroans. One of the old allegorical interpreters has drawn from this\nincident a moral which, however fanciful, is not without a certain\nbeauty and appositeness of illustration--the sins of the wicked, he\nsays, dog their steps, and cry aloud against them. When next they put to\nsea, Jupiter raised winds and waves to punish them; for the Sun had\nthreatened that, if such insult went unavenged, he would light the\nheavens no more, but go down and shine in Hades. Their ship was riven by\na thunderbolt, and Ulysses alone, sole survivor of all his crew, after\nonce more narrowly escaping the whirlpool of Charybdis, after floating\nnine days upon the broken mast, was cast ashore on the island of\nCalypso, and there detained until his release by the intercession of\nMinerva, as has been told, which had ended in this second shipwreck on\nthe coast of his present entertainers.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nULYSSES\u2019 RETURN TO ITHACA.\n\n\nThe hero, at his departure, is loaded with rich presents of honour from\nhis Ph\u00e6acian hosts. The twelve princes of the kingdom each contribute\ntheir offering--gold and changes of raiment; the king adds a gold\ndrinking-cup of his own, and Queen Arete a mantle and tunic. The careful\nqueen also supplies him with a magnificent chest, in which she packs his\ntreasures with her own royal hands; and Ulysses secures the whole with a\n\u201cseaman\u2019s knot,\u201d whose complications will defy the uninitiated--a secret\nwhich he has learnt from Circe, and which he seems to have handed down\nto modern sailors. Thus equipped, he is sent on board one of the magic\ngalleys, to be conveyed home to his native Ithaca. They embark in the\nevening, and early the next morning the crew--apparently in order to\ngive the adventure the half-ludicrous turn which seems inseparable from\nthe Ph\u00e6acians--land their passenger, still sound asleep, and leave him\non shore under an olive-tree, with his store of presents heaped beside\nhim. When he awakes, he fails to recognise his native island, for\nMinerva has spread a mist over it. The goddess herself presently\naccosts him, in the form of a shepherd, and listens patiently to a story\nwhich the hero invents, with his usual readiness, to account for his\npresence on the island. Then she discovers herself, with a somewhat\nironical compliment on the inveterate craftiness which has led him to\nattempt to impose on the wisest of the immortals. She tells him news of\nhis wife and of his son, and promises him her help against the accursed\nsuitors. She lays her golden wand upon him, and lo! the majestic\npresence which had touched the maiden fancy of Nausicaa, and won him\nfavour in the eyes of the Ph\u00e6acian court (to say nothing of Circe and\nCalypso) has at once given place to the decrepitude of age. The ruddy\ncheeks grow wrinkled, the bright eyes are dimmed, the flowing locks\nturned grey, and Ulysses is, to all appearance, an aged beggar, clad in\nsqualid rags. Thus disguised, so that none shall recognise him till his\nhour comes, he seeks shelter, by direction of the goddess, with his own\nswineherd Eum\u00e6us.\n\nEum\u00e6us is one of the most characteristic personages in the poem, and has\ngiven the most trouble to the poet\u2019s various critics. He occupies a sort\nof forester\u2019s lodge in the woods, where the vast herds of swine\nbelonging to the absent king are fed by day, and carefully lodged at\nnight. Though he is but a keeper of swine, Homer applies to him\ncontinually the epithets \u201cgodlike,\u201d and \u201cchief of men,\u201d which he\ncommonly uses only of territorial lords such as Ulysses and Menelaus. He\nnot only has subordinates in his employ, but an attendant slave, whom he\nhas purchased with his own money; and he so far exercises an\nindependent right of property in the animals which are under his care as\nto kill and dress them--two at a time, such is the lavish hospitality of\nthe age--to feast the stranger-guest who has now come to him. It may be\nstraining a point to see in him, as one of the most genial of Homeric\ncritics does, \u201ca genuine country gentleman of the age of Homer;\u201d but his\nposition, so far as it is possible to compare it with anything at all in\nmodern social life, appears something like that of the agricultural\nsteward of a large landed proprietor, with whom his relations, though\nstrictly subordinate, are of a highly confidential and friendly\ncharacter. The charge of the swine would be a much more important office\nin an age when, as is plain from many passages both in the Iliad and the\nOdyssey, the flesh of those animals held a place of honour at the\nbanquets of chiefs and kings: and as we find that even the sons of a\nroyal household did not think the keeping of sheep beneath their\ndignity, so the care of other animals would by no means imply a menial\nposition. Eum\u00e6us, indeed, turns out to be himself of princely\nbirth--stolen in his childhood by a treacherous nurse from the island\nwhere his father was king, sold by Ph\u0153nician merchants to Laertes in\nIthaca, and brought up in his household almost as a son, and regarding\nthe lost Ulysses \u201cas an elder brother.\u201d Very loyal is he to the house of\nhis benefactors; prefacing his meal by a prayer that his lord may yet\nreturn in safety, and grieving specially that the lady Penelope, in her\npresent troubles, has seldom the opportunity to see or speak with him in\nthe kindly intercourse of old. The cordial and simple relations between\nmaster and servant--even though the servant was commonly nothing more or\nless than a purchased slave--are a striking feature, very pleasant to\ndwell upon, in these Homeric poems. They remind us, as Homer does so\noften, of similar pictures in the sacred narrative of the gentler\naffections which redeemed so often the curse of slavery--of the little\ncaptive Israelite maiden whose concern for her Syrian master led to his\ncure, and of the faithful steward, \u201cborn in the house\u201d of Abraham, whom\nthe childless patriarch once thought to make his heir.\n\nEum\u00e6us entertains the stranger right hospitably--warning him, at the\nsame time, not to pretend, as others have often done in the hope of\nreward, to bring tidings of the lost Ulysses. His guest\u2019s own story he\nwill be glad to hear. The hero is always ready at narrative, whether the\ntale is to be fact or fiction. At present he chooses fiction; he gives\nhis listener an imaginary history of his past life, as a Cretan chief\nwho had seen much good service in many lands, especially under King\nIdomeneus at Troy, but who had met with a succession of disasters since.\nOf course he had seen and known Ulysses; had heard of him since the fall\nof Troy; and he offers his host a wager that he will yet return. Eum\u00e6us\nwill hear nothing of such flattering hopes; by this time his men are\ncoming in from the field, and when the swine are safely housed, supper\nand bedtime follow. But the night is bitter cold, and Ulysses has\nnothing but his beggar\u2019s rags. He indirectly begs a covering from his\nhost by an ingenious story, very characteristic of the style of the\nlighter episodes of the Odyssey. He relates an adventure of his own\nwhile lying in ambush, one winter night, under the walls of Troy. Dr\nMaginn\u2019s translation of this passage, in the old English ballad style,\nthough somewhat free, preserves fairly the spirit and humour of the\noriginal:--\n\n    \u201cOh! were I as young and as fresh and as strong\n     As when under Troy, brother soldiers among,\n     In ambush as captains were chosen to lie\n     Odysseus and King Menelaus and I!\n\n    \u201cThey called me as third, and I came at the word,\n     And reached the high walls that the citadel gird;\n     When under the town we in armour lay down\n     By a brake in the marshes with weeds overgrown.\n     The night came on sharp, bleak the north wind did blow,\n     And frostily cold fell a thick shower of snow.\n\n    \u201cSoon with icicles hoar every shield was frozen o\u2019er;\n     But they who their cloaks and their body-clothes wore\n     The night lightly passed, secure from the blast,\n     Asleep with their shields o\u2019er their broad shoulders cast;\n     But I, like a fool, had my cloak left behind,\n     Not expecting to shake in so piercing a wind.\n\n    \u201cMy buckler and zone--nothing more--had I on;\n     But when the third part of the night-watch was gone,\n     And the stars left the sky, with my elbow then I\n     Touched Odysseus, and spoke to him, lying close by--\n     Noble son of Laertes, Odysseus the wise,\n     I fear that alive I shall never arise.\n\n    \u201c\u2018In this night so severe but one doublet I wear--\n     Deceived by a god--and my cloak is not here,\n     And no way I see from destruction to flee.\u2019\n     But soon to relieve me a project had he.\n     In combat or council still prompt was his head,\n     And into my ear thus low whisp\u2019ring he said:--\n\n    \u201c\u2018Let none of the band this your need understand;\n     Keep silent.\u2019 Then, resting his head on his hand,--\n     \u2018Friends and comrades of mine,\u2019 he exclaimed, \u2018as a sign,\n     While I slept has come o\u2019er me a dream all divine.\n     It has warned me how far from the vessels we lie,\n     And that some one should go for fresh force to apply;\n\n    \u201c\u2018And his footsteps should lead, disclosing our need,\n     To King Agamemnon, our chieftain, with speed.\u2019\n     Thoas rose as he spoke, flung off his red cloak,\n     And running, his way with the message he took;\n     While, wrapt in his garment, I pleasantly lay\n     Till the rise of the golden-throned queen of the day.\n\n    \u201c\u2018If I now were as young, and as fresh, and as strong,\n     Perhaps here in the stables you swine-herds among\n     Some a mantle would lend, as the act of a friend,\n     Or from the respect that on worth should attend;\n     But small is the honour, I find, that is paid\n     To one who, like me, is so meanly arrayed.\u2019\u201d\n             --(Maginn\u2019s \u2018Homeric Ballads.\u2019)\n\nThe self-laudation which the hero, speaking in another person, takes the\nopportunity to introduce, is in perfect keeping with his character\nthroughout.\n\nThe hint so broadly given is quite successful, and Eum\u00e6us provides his\nguest with some warm coverings and a place near the fire; but he himself\nwill not sleep so far from his charge. Wrapped in a mighty wind-proof\ncloak, he takes up his quarters for the night under the shelter of a\nrock, hard by the lair of his swine.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTHE RETURN OF TELEMACHUS FROM SPARTA.\n\n\nThe story returns to Telemachus, whom we left at Sparta. His stay at\nthat court has been prolonged a whole month, for which the excuse, we\nmust suppose, is to be found in the hospitalities of Menelaus and the\nfascinations of Helen. No wonder that his guardian goddess admonishes\nhim in a dream that, under his present circumstances, such delays are\ndangerous. Penelope has a hard time of it in his absence, even her\nfather pressing her to marry some one of her suitors. Nay, Minerva more\nthan hints--though we beg our readers not to accept such an insinuation\nagainst Penelope, even on the authority of a goddess--that Eurymachus,\none of the richest of the rivals, is beginning to find favour in her\neyes. Telemachus is roused once more to action: awakening his young\nfriend Pisistratus, he proposes that they should set out on their return\nat once--before the day breaks. The son of the old \u201cHorse-tamer\u201d\nsensibly reminds him that driving in the dark is very undesirable, and\nit is agreed to wait for the morning. Menelaus, with genuine courtesy,\nrefrains from any attempt to detain his guests longer than seems\nagreeable to themselves. A portion of his speech, as rendered by Pope,\nhas passed into a popular maxim as to the true limits of hospitality,\nand has been quoted, no doubt, by many, with very little idea that they\nwere indebted to Homer for the precept--\n\n   \u201cTrue friendship\u2019s laws are by this rule exprest--\n    Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.\u201d\n\nAnother maxim of the hospitable Spartan has long been adopted by\nEnglishmen--that all wise men, who have a long day\u2019s journey before\nthem, should lay in a substantial breakfast. This the travellers do, and\nthen prepare to mount their chariot; Telemachus bearing with him, as the\nparting gift of his royal host, a bowl of silver wondrously chased, \u201cthe\nwork of Vulcan\u201d--too fair to come from any mortal hand--which Menelaus\nhad himself received from the King of Sidon; while Helen adds an\nembroidered robe \u201cthat glistened like a star,\u201d one of many which she has\nwoven with her own hands, which she begs him to keep to adorn his bride\non her marriage-day. Even as they part, lo! there is an omen in the\nsky--an eagle bearing off a white goose in her talons. Who shall expound\nit? Menelaus, who is appealed to, is no soothsayer. Helen alone can\nunlock the riddle:--\n\n   \u201cJust as this eagle came from far away,\n    Reared in the bleak rock, nursling of the hill,\n    And in the stormy ravin of his wild will\n    Seized on the white goose, delicately bred,--\n    So brave Ulysses, after countless ill,\n    Comes from afar off, dealing vengeance dread.\u201d\n\nTelemachus blesses her for the happy interpretation, and promises that,\nshould the word come true, he will worship the fair prophetess in Ithaca\nas nothing less than a divinity. Whether or no he made good his vow the\npoet does not tell us. Worse mortals have been canonised both in ancient\nand modern calendars. And whether Helen was honoured thus in Ithaca or\nnot, she certainly was at Sparta, where we are told that she displayed\nher new powers as a divinity once at least in a very appropriate\nmanner--transforming a child of remarkable ugliness, at the prayer of\nits nurse, into a no less remarkable beauty.\n\nThe young men make their first evening halt at Pher\u00e6, as before, and\nreach Nestor\u2019s court at Pylos next day. Telemachus insists on driving\nstraight to the bay where his patient crew still await him with the\ngalley--for he knows old Nestor will try to detain him, out of kindness,\nif he once set foot again in the palace--and instantly on his arrival\nthey hoist sail for home. They round the peninsula in the night, and\nwith the morning\u2019s dawn they sight the spiry peaks of Ithaca. The crew\nmoor the vessel in a sheltered bay, while Telemachus--to escape the\nambuscade which he knows to have been laid for him--makes straight for\nthe swineherd\u2019s lodge, instead of entering the town. As he draws near\nthe threshold, the watch-dogs know his step, and run out to greet him;\nEum\u00e6us himself, in his delight at the meeting, drops from his hands the\nbowl of wine which he was carefully mixing as a morning draught for his\ndisguised guest, and falls on his young lord\u2019s neck, kissing him, and\nweeping tears of joy.\n\n      \u201cThou, O Telemachus, my life, my light,\n      Returnest; yet my soul did often say\n      That never, never more should I have sight\n      Of thy sweet face, since thou didst sail away.\n      Enter, dear child, and let my heart allay\n      Its yearnings; newly art thou come from far:\n      Thou comest all too seldom--fain to stay\n      In the thronged city, where the suitors are,\n    Silently looking on while foes thy substance mar.\u201d\n\nUlysses preserves his disguise, and rises from his seat to offer it to\nthe young chief. But Telemachus, like all Homer\u2019s heroes, is\nemphatically a gentleman; and he will not take an old man\u2019s place,\nthough that man be but a poor wayfarer clad in rags. When he has broken\nhis fast at his retainer\u2019s table, he would know from him who the\nstranger is. Eum\u00e6us repeats the fictitious history which he has heard\nfrom Ulysses, and Telemachus promises the shipwrecked wanderer relief\nand protection. He sends Eum\u00e6us to announce his own safe return to\nPenelope; and when the father and son are left alone, suddenly Minerva\nappears--visible only to Ulysses and to the dogs, who cower and whine at\nthe supernatural presence--and bids him discover himself to his son. The\nbeggar\u2019s rags fall off, a royal robe takes their place, and he resumes\nall the majesty of presence which he had worn before. But Telemachus\ndoes not recognise the father whom he has never known; the sudden\ntransformation rather suggests to him some heavenly visitant. He was but\nan infant when Ulysses went to Troy; and even when his father assures\nhim of his identity, he will not believe. There is a quiet sadness, but\nno reproach, in the hero\u2019s reply:--\n\n   \u201cOther Odysseus cometh none save me.\n    Behold me as I am! By earth and sea\n    Scourged with affliction, in the twentieth year,\n    Safe to mine own land at the last I flee.\u201d\n\nIt is long before either, in their first emotion, can find words to tell\ntheir story. Ulysses takes his son fully into his counsels, and charges\nhim to keep the news of his return as yet a secret even from his mother,\nuntil they two shall discover who among the household can be trusted to\naid them in the extermination of the intruders and their powerful\nretinue. He knows that his day of vengeance is come at last, and nothing\nless than this will satisfy him. Telemachus has some timorous\nmisgivings, according to his nature--What are they two against so many?\nBut Ulysses knows that the gods are on his side--Minerva and the Father\nof the gods himself; or shall we say with the allegorists, in this case,\nthe Counsels of Heaven and the Justice of Heaven? There is a grand irony\nin the question which he puts to his son--\u201cThinkest thou these allies\nwill suffice, or shall we seek for other helpers?\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nULYSSES REVISITS HIS PALACE.\n\n\nGreat is the consternation amongst the riotous crew in the palace, when\nthey find that Telemachus has escaped their toils, and has returned; and\ngreat the joy of Penelope when she hears this good news from Eum\u00e6us,\nwhich yet she hardly believes, until it is confirmed by a visit from her\nson in person. The suitors receive him with feigned courtesy, though\nsome among them have already determined on his assassination. The\nswineherd follows to the palace, bringing with him, by command of\nTelemachus, the seeming beggar--for Ulysses has undergone a second\ntransformation, and is once more an aged man in mean apparel. As a poor\nwanderer, dependent on public charity, he is sure to find that ready\nadmittance into the royal precincts which is so necessary for carrying\nout his plans of vengeance, without raising the suspicions of the\npresent occupants. On the way they are met by Melanthius the goatherd,\nwhose character stands in marked contrast to that of Eum\u00e6us. He is\nutterly faithless to his absent master\u2019s interests, and has become the\nready instrument of his enemies. With mocking insolence he jeers at\nEum\u00e6us and his humble acquaintance, and even goes so far as to spurn the\nlatter with his foot. Ulysses fully justifies his character for patience\nand endurance; though for a moment he does debate in his heart the\nalternative, whether he should break the skull of the scoffer with his\nclub, or lift him from his feet and dash his brains out on the ground.\nAs he draws near the gates of his own palace he espies another old\nretainer, of a different type, belonging to a race noted in all lands\nand ages for its fidelity. There lies on the dunghill, dying of old age,\ndisease, and neglect, his dog Argus--the companion of many a long chase\nin happier days. The dog has all Eum\u00e6us\u2019s loyalty, and more than his\ndiscernment. His instinct at once detects his old master, even through\nthe disguise lent by the goddess of wisdom. Before he sees him, he knows\nhis voice and step, and raises his ears--\n\n   \u201cAnd when he marked Odysseus in the way,\n    And could no longer to his lord come near,\n    Fawned with his tail, and drooped in feeble play\n    His ears. Odysseus turning wiped a tear.\u201d\n\nEustathius (who made none the worse archbishop because he was a thorough\nlover of Homer) has remarked, somewhat pertinently, that the fate of his\ndog draws from the imperturbable Ulysses the tears which he never sheds\nfor any thought of Penelope. But such lesser pathetic incidents have\noften, in actual life, a stronger emotional effect than is produced by\nthe deeper affections.[40] But he masters his emotion, for this is no\ntime to betray himself, and follows Eum\u00e6us through the entrance-doors.\nIt is poor Argus\u2019s last effort, and the old hound turns and dies--\n\n    \u201cJust having seen Odysseus in the twentieth year.\u201d\n\nThe story is told by the Greek poet with somewhat more prolixity of\ndetail than suits our modern notions of the pathetic, but the pathos of\nthe incident itself is of the simplest and purest kind.\n\nIn beggar\u2019s guise Ulysses enters his own hall, and makes his rounds of\nthe party who sit there at table, soliciting some contribution of broken\nmeat to his wallet. None is so hard of heart as to refuse, except\nAntinous. In vain does Ulysses compliment him on his princely beauty,\nand remind him of the uncertainty of fortune, as evidenced by his own\npresent case:--\n\n      \u201cOnce to me also sorrow came not near,\n      And I had riches and a noble name,\n    And to the wandering poor still gave, whoever came.\u201d\n\n      \u201cLegions of slaves and many thousand things\n      I held, which God doth on the great bestow--\n      All that the ownership of large wealth brings.\n      But Zeus the Thunderer, for he willed it so,\n      Emptied my power, and sent a wave of woe.\u201d\n\nAntinous haughtily bids him stand off, and when Ulysses expresses his\nwonder that in so fair a body should dwell so mean a spirit, hurls a\nstool at him. The blow does not shake the strong frame of Ulysses, who\nmoves to the doorway, lays down his wallet, and lifts his voice in\nsolemn imprecation to the Powers on high who protect the stranger and\nthe poor:--\n\n      \u201cHear me, ye suitors of the queen divine!\n      Men grieve not for the wounds they take in fight,\n      Defending their own wealth, white sheep or kine;\n      But me (bear witness!) doth Antinous smite\n      Only because I suffer hunger\u2019s bite,\n      Fount to mankind of evils evermore.\n      Now may Antinous, ere his nuptial night,\n      If there be gods and furies of the poor,\n    Die unavenged, unwept, upon the palace-floor.\u201d\n\nEven some amongst the young man\u2019s companions are horrified by this\nreckless violation of the recognised laws of charity and hospitality.\nOne of them speaks out in strong rebuke:--\n\n      \u201cNot to thine honour hast thou now let fall,\n      Antinous, on the wandering poor this blow.\n      Haply a god from heaven is in our hall,\n      And thou art ripe for ruin: I bid thee know,\n      Gods in the garb of strangers to and fro\n      Wander the cities, and men\u2019s ways discern;\n      Yea, through the wide earth in all shapes they go,\n      Changed, yet the same, and with their own eyes learn\n    How live the sacred laws--who hold them, and who spurn.\u201d\n\nThis is one of those noble passages in which the creed of the poet soars\nfar above his mythology. The god who is the avenger of broken oaths, and\nthe protector of the poor and the stranger, though he bears the name of\nZeus or Jupiter, is a power of very different type from the Ruler of\nOlympus, who indulges his sensual passions in base amours with\nmortals,--who in the Iliad is perpetually engaged in domestic wrangles\nwith his queen, and even in the Odyssey wreaks a weak vengeance on\nUlysses merely to gratify the spite of Neptune.\n\n      \u201cMeanwhile Telemachus sat far apart,\n      Feeding on fire; and deeper and more drear\n      Grew the sharp pang, that he saw stricken there\n      His own dear father, and the flower of kings.\n      Yet from his eyelids he let fall no tear,\n      But, filled in soul with dark imaginings,\n    Silently waved his head, and brooded evil things.\u201d\n\nAdditional insults await the hero in his own hall. There comes from the\ntown a sturdy beggar, known as Irus--\u201cthe messenger\u201d--by a kind of\nparody on the name of the rainbow goddess, Iris, who performs the same\noffice for the immortals. Jealous of a rival mendicant, such as Ulysses\nappears, he threatens to drive him from the hall. Ulysses quietly warns\nhim to keep his hands off--there is room enough for both. The young\nnobles shout with delight at a quarrel which promises such good sport,\nand at once form a ring for the combatants, and undertake to see fair\nplay. When the disguised king strips off his squalid rags for the\nboxing-match, and discovers the brawny chest and shoulders for which he\nwas remarkable, Irus trembles at the thought of encountering him. But it\nis too late: with a single blow Ulysses breaks his jaw, and drags him\nout into the courtyard. The revellers now hail the conqueror with loud\napplause, and award him the prize of victory--a goat-paunch filled with\nmince-meat and blood, the prototype, apparently, both of the Scotch\nhaggis and the English black-pudding. Amphinomus--who has already shown\nsomething of a nobler nature than the rest--adds a few words of generous\nsympathy: he sees in the wandering mendicant one who has known better\ndays, and pledges him in a cup of wine, with a hope that brighter\nfortunes are yet in store. Ulysses is touched with pity for the fate\nwhich the young man\u2019s evil companions are inevitably drawing on him. He\nhad heard, he tells him, of his father, Nisus--had known him, doubtless,\nin fact--a wise and good man; such ought the son to be. He adds a voice\nof ominous warning, tinged with that saddened view of man at his best\nestate which continually breaks forth, even amidst the lighter passages\nof the poet.\n\n   \u201cEarth than a man no poorer feebler thing\n    Rears, of all creatures that here breathe or move;\n    Who, while the gods lend health, and his knees string,\n    Boasts that no sorrow he is born to prove.\n    But when the gods assail him from above,\n    Then doth he bear it with a bitter mind,\n    Dies without help, or liveth against love.\u201d\n\nPenelope now descends from her chamber for a moment into the hall, to\nhave speech with her son. The goddess Minerva has shed on her such\nradiant grace and beauty, that her appearance draws forth passionate\nadmiration from Eurymachus. She does but taunt him in reply: most\nsuitors, she says, at least bring presents in their hand; these of hers\ndo but rob, where others give freely. They are all stung sufficiently\nby her words to produce at once from their stores some costly\nofferings--embroidered robes, chains and brooches and necklaces of gold\nand electrum. The queen, after the practical fashion of the age, is not\ntoo disdainful to carry them off to her chamber; while Ulysses--as\nindeed seems more in accordance with his character--secretly rejoices to\nsee his wife thus \u201cspoiling the Egyptians.\u201d Some commentators have\napologised for this seeming meanness on the part of Penelope by the\nexplanation, that she does it to inspire them with false hopes of her\nchoosing one of them now at last for her husband, and so lulling them\ninto a false security in order to insure their easier destruction. But\nit is best to take the moral tone of these early poems honestly, as we\nfind it, and not attempt to force it into too close agreement with our\nown.\n\nAfter some further acts of insult, still borne with a wrathful endurance\nby Ulysses, the company quit the hall, as usual, for the night. Then\nPenelope descends again from her chamber, and sitting by the hearth,\nbids a chair be set also for the wandering stranger: she will hear his\ntale. He represents himself to her as the brother of King Idomeneus of\nCrete, and as having once in his brother\u2019s absence entertained the great\nUlysses in his halls. To Penelope\u2019s eager questions, by which she seeks\nto test his veracity, he answers by describing not so much the person of\nher husband as his distinctive dress. The queen recognises, in this\ndescription, the curiously-embroidered mantle which she had worked for\nhim, and the golden clasp, \u201clinked with twin stars,\u201d which she had\nfastened with her own hands when he parted from her to go to Troy. She\nbreaks into floods of tears at the recollection; while the disguised\nUlysses sets his eyes hard, \u201cas though they were of horn or steel,\u201d and\nchecks his rising tears. He comforts her with the assurance that he\nbrings recent news of her hero--of his shipwreck and visit to the\nPh\u00e6acians; that he is even now on his way to Ithaca, last heard of in\nthe neighbouring island of Dulichium, within easy reach of home; nay,\nthis very year, he would be content to pledge himself, Ulysses shall\nstand once more in his own halls. Incredulous, yet thankful for the\ncomfort, the queen orders the wanderer to be taken to the bath, and\nentertained as an honoured guest. But he refuses all attendance save\nthat of the aged Eurycleia. She marks with wonder his likeness to her\nabsent master; but such resemblance, he assures her, has been noticed\nfrequently by others. As she bathes his feet, her eyes fall on a\nwell-remembered scar, left by a wound received from a boar\u2019s tusk in his\nyouth while hunting on Mount Parnassus with his grandsire\nAutolycus.[41] The old nurse doubts no longer. She lets the foot fall\nheavily, and upsets the bath.\n\n   \u201cSurely thou art Ulysses--yes, thou art--\n    My darling child, and I not knew my king\n    Till I had handled thee in every part!\u201d\n\nHe puts his hand upon her throat, and forcibly checks her outcry; his\npurpose is not to be known openly as yet, for he feels there are few,\neven of his own household, whom he can trust. He charges her--even on\npain of death, much as he loves her--to keep his secret; then, refusing\nall softer accommodation, he lies down in the vestibule on a couch of\nbullhide, not sleeping, but nursing his wrath in a fever of\nwakefulness.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nTHE DAY OF RETRIBUTION.\n\n\nThe morrow is a festival of Apollo. It is kept by the riotous crew in\nthe halls of Ulysses with more than their usual revelry. The disguised\nhero himself, feeding at a small table apart by command of Telemachus,\nis still subject to their insults. But portents are not wanting of their\nimpending doom. In the midst of the feast Minerva casts them into fits\nof ghastly laughter; the meat which they are eating drips with gore; and\nthe seer Theoclymenus--a refugee under the protection of Telemachus--who\nhas been of late their unwilling companion, sees each man\u2019s head\nenveloped in a misty darkness, and the whole court and vestibule\nthronged with ghostly shapes. He cries out in affright, and tells them\nwhat sight he sees; but they only answer him with mockery, and threaten\nto drive him forth as one who has lost his wits. After warning them of\nthe fate which he foresees awaiting them, he quits the company. They\nturn upon Telemachus, and taunt him with his sorry choice of guests:\nfirst yon lazy disreputable vagabond, and now this prating would-be\nsoothsayer. The young man makes no reply, but watches his father\nanxiously; and Ulysses still bides his time.\n\nThe queen meanwhile has bethought her of a new device, to put off yet\nawhile the evil day in which she must at length make her choice amongst\nher importunate lovers. She unlocks an inner chamber where the treasures\nof the house are stored, and draws from its case Ulysses\u2019 bow, the gift\nof his dead friend Iphitus, which he had not taken with him to Troy.\nBefore she carries it down, she lays it fondly on her knees, and weeps\nas she thinks of its absent master. One cunning feat she remembers which\nher hero was wont to perform--to drive an arrow straight through the\nhollow rings of twelve axe-heads set up in a line. Whichsoever of her\nsuitors can bend the strong bow, and send a shaft right through the\nwhole row of twelve, like the lost Ulysses, that man she will follow,\nhowever reluctantly, as her future lord. She has more than a lingering\nhope, we may be sure, that one and all will fail in a trial so\nmanifestly difficult. They would refuse the ordeal, but for Antinous.\nConfident in his own powers, he hopes to succeed--he knows the rest will\nfail. They, out of shame, accept the test. Telemachus himself fixes the\nweapons firmly in the earth in a true and even line, a task in itself of\nno small difficulty, but which he performs with such skill as to win the\nadmiration of the whole party. He claims the right to make trial first\nhimself, in the hope to prove himself his father\u2019s true son. Thrice he\ndraws the bow-string, but not yet to its right extent. As he is making a\nfourth attempt, sanguine of success, he meets a look from his father\nwhich checks his hand. Ulysses foresees that should his son succeed\nwhere the others fail, and so claim what they are really seeking, the\nroyal power of Ithaca, the whole band might suddenly unite against him,\nand so frustrate his present scheme of vengeance. Reluctantly, at his\nfather\u2019s sign, the youth lays down the bow, and professes to lament the\nweakness of his degenerate hand. One after another the rival princes in\nturn strive to bend it, but in vain; even Antinous and Eurymachus,\nnotably the best among them, fail to move the string, though the bow is\nwarmed by the fire and rubbed well with melted fat to make it more\npliable. Antinous finds plausible excuse for the failure--they have\nprofaned the festival of Apollo by this contest; it shall be renewed\nunder better auspices on the morrow. Then the seeming beggar (who\nmeanwhile has made himself known as their true lord to Eum\u00e6us and\nanother faithful retainer, the herdsman Phil\u0153tius) makes request that he\nmay try his hand upon this wondrous bow. Loud and coarse is the abuse\nwhich Antinous and his fellows shower upon him for his audacity; but\nTelemachus exerts the authority in his mother\u2019s house which his\nuninvited guests seem never quite to make up their minds to dispute when\nit is firmly claimed, and the weapon is given into the hands of its true\nowner. He handles it gently and lovingly, turning it over and over to\nsee whether it has in any way suffered by time or decay, and brings\nnotes from the tight-strained bow-string, \u201cshrill and sweet as the voice\nof the swallow.\u201d At last he fits an arrow to the notch, and, not\ndeigning even to rise from his seat to make the effort, draws it to its\nfull stretch, and sends the shaft right through the whole line of\naxe-heads. It is the immediate prelude to the bloody tragedy which\nfollows--\n\n                        \u201c\u2018Behold, the mark is hit,\n      Hit without labour! the old strength cleaves fast\n      Upon me, and my bones are stourly knit--\n    Not as the suitors mock me in their scornful wit.\n\n      \u201c\u2018Now is it time their evening meal to set\n      Before the Achaians, ere the sun go down.\n      And other entertainment shall come yet,\n      Dance and the song, which are the banquet\u2019s crown.\u2019\n      He spake, and with his eyebrows curved the frown.\n      Seizing his sword and spear Telemachus came,\n      Son of Odysseus, chief of high renown,\n      And, helmeted with brass like fiery flame,\n    Stood by his father\u2019s throne and waited the dire aim.\n\n      \u201cStript of his rags then leapt the godlike king\n      On the great threshold, in his hand the bow\n      And quiver, filled with arrows of mortal sting.\n      These with a rattle he rained down below,\n      Loose at his feet, and spake among them so:\n      \u2018See, at the last our matchless bout is o\u2019er!\n      Now for another mark, that I may know\n      If I can hit what none hath hit before,\n    And if Apollo hear me in the prayer I pour!\u2019\u201d\n\nThe philosopher Plato, who did not spare the poet occasionally, in his\ncriticisms, speaks of this passage as worthy of all admiration. We have\nhere the primitive type, since worked out into countless shapes, of the\n\u201csituations\u201d and \u201cdiscoveries\u201d which abound in modern romance and drama.\n\nUlysses aims the first arrow at Antinous. It pierces him in the throat\nas he is raising a goblet to his lips, and he falls backward in the\nagonies of death, spilling the untasted wine upon the floor; thus giving\noccasion (so says Greek tradition) to that which has now become a common\nEnglish proverb--\u201cThere\u2019s many a slip \u2019twixt the cup and the lip.\u201d[42]\nHis comrades stand aghast for a moment, not certain whether the shot be\ndeliberate or merely accidental. Ulysses sets them at rest on that point\nby declaring himself and his purpose. They look round the hall for the\narms which usually hang upon the walls, but these have been secretly\nremoved during the previous night by Ulysses and his son. Eurymachus,\nwho has more plausible rhetoric at his command than the others, now\nendeavours to make terms. Antinous, he confesses, has well deserved his\nfate--he had plotted against the life of Telemachus; but for himself and\nthe rest, now that the king has come to his own again, they will submit\nthemselves, and pay such fine as shall amply satisfy him for the\ndespoiling of his goods. Ulysses scornfully rejects all such compromise.\nThen, at Eurymachus\u2019 call, the boldest of the party draw their knives\nand make a rush upon him. But a second arrow from the terrible bow\nstrikes Eurymachus through the breast before he reaches him; Amphinomus\nfalls by the spear of Telemachus as soon as he gets within range; and\nwhile the father, backed by his two retainers, holds the rest at\nbay--rather, we must suppose, by the terror of his presence than the\nactual use of his bow--the son rushes off to find arms for the little\nparty. Ulysses plies his arrows till they are exhausted, and then the\nfour together continue the unequal combat with the spears now brought\nby Telemachus. The details of the work of retribution, like some of the\nlong slaughter-lists in the Iliad, sufficiently interesting to an\naudience for whom war was the great game of human life, are scarcely so\nto modern and more fastidious readers. The hero, like all heroes of\nromance, performs deeds which in a mere prosaic view would appear\nimpossibilities. Suffice it to say, that with the Goddess of Wisdom as\nan ally (who appears once more under the form of Mentor), the combat\nends in the slaughter of the whole band of intruders, even though they\nare partially supplied with arms by the treacherous goatherd, who brings\nthem from the armoury which Telemachus has carelessly left open. A graze\nupon the wrist of Telemachus, and a slight flesh-wound where the spear\nof one of the enemy \u201cwrote on the shoulder\u201d of the good swineherd\nEum\u00e6us, are the only hurts received by their party in the combat. The\nvengeance of the hero is implacable; otherwise it were not heroic, in\nthe Homeric sense. Not content with the utter extermination of the men\nwho have usurped his palace, harassed his wife, and insulted his son, he\nhangs up also their guilty paramours among the women-servants, who have\njoined them in defiling his household gods; first, however, making them\nswill and scour clean the blood-stained hall which has been the scene of\nthe slaughter. The traitorous goatherd Melanthius is by the same stern\norders miserably lopped of ears, and nose, and limbs, before death\nreleases him. We find the same pitiless cruelty towards his enemies in\nthe hero of the Odyssey as in the hero of the Iliad. Yet the poet would\nteach us that the vengeance of Ulysses is but the instrument of the\ndivine justice. Like Moses or Joshua, he is but the passionless executor\nof the wrath of heaven; while, still to continue the parallel, the\nmerciless character of the retribution takes its colour from the\nferocity of the age. When the aged Eurycleia, who as yet alone of the\nwomen of the household knows the secret of his return, comes down and\nsees the floor strewn with the bloody corpses, she is about to raise a\nshout of triumph. But the king checks her:--\n\n   \u201cNurse, with a mute heart this my vengeance hail!\n    Not holy is it o\u2019er the slain to boast.\n    These Heaven and their own crimes have brought to bale;\n    Since of all strangers, from earth\u2019s every coast,\n    No man was honoured of this godless host,\n    Nor good nor evil, whosoe\u2019er they knew--\n    And with their souls they pay the fatal cost.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nTHE RECOGNITION BY PENELOPE.\n\n\nPenelope, far off in her chamber, has not heard the tumult, for the\ndoors between the men\u2019s and women\u2019s apartments had been carefully locked\nby Eum\u00e6us, by his lord\u2019s order. Even when the nurse rushes up to her\nwith the tidings that Ulysses himself has returned, and made this\nterrible lustration of his household, she yet remains incredulous. The\nriotous crew may have met their deserved fate, but the hand that has\nslain them must be that of some deity, not of Ulysses. Yet she will go\ndown and look upon the corpses. There, leaning \u201cby a pillar\u201d in the\nroyal place--like King Joash at his coronation, or King Josiah when he\nsware to the covenant--she beholds Ulysses. But he is still in his\nbeggar\u2019s weed, and after twenty years of absence she is slow to\nrecognise him. Both Eurycleia and Telemachus break into anger at her\nincredulity. The king himself is outwardly as little moved as ever. He\nwill give tokens of his identity hereafter. For the present there are\nprecautions to be taken. The slaughter of so many nobles of Ithaca will\nscarce be taken lightly when it is heard in the island; it must not be\nknown abroad until he can try the temper of his subjects, and gather a\nloyal host around him. All traces of the bloody scene which has just\nbeen enacted must be carefully concealed; the house must ring with harp,\nand song, and dance, that all who hear may think the queen has made her\nchoice at last, and is holding her wedding-feast to-day--as, in truth,\nin a better sense she shall. Ulysses himself goes to the bath to wash\naway the stains of slaughter. Thence he comes forth endued once more by\nhis guardian goddess with the \u201chyacinthine\u201d locks and the grand presence\nwhich he had worn in the court of Ph\u00e6acia. He appeals now to his wife\u2019s\nmemory, for she yet gives no sure sign of recognition:--\n\n   \u201cLady, the gods that in Olympus dwell\n    Have, beyond mortal women, given to thee\n    Heart as of flint, which none can soften well.\n    Lives not a wife who could endure, save thee,\n    Her lord to slight, who, roaming earth and sea,\n    Comes to his own land in the twentieth year.\n    Haste, Eurycleia, and go spread for me\n    Some couch, that I may sleep--but not with her.\u201d\n\nPenelope does recognise the form and features--it is indeed, to all\noutward appearance, the Ulysses from whom she parted in tears twenty\nyears ago. But such appearances are deceitful; gods have been known, ere\nnow, to put on the form of men to gain the love of mortals. She will put\nhim to one certain test she wots of. \u201cGive him his own bed,\u201d she says to\nthe nurse; \u201cgo, bring it forth from what was our bridal chamber.\u201d But\nthe couch of which she speaks is, as she and he both well know,\nimmovable. Its peculiar structure, as detailed in Homer\u2019s verse, is by\nno means easy to unravel. But it is formed in some cunning fashion out\nof the stem of an olive-tree, rooted and growing, round which the hero\nhimself had built a bridal chamber. Move it?--\u201cThere lives no mortal,\u201d\nexclaims Ulysses, \u201cwho could stir it from its place.\u201d Then, at last, all\nPenelope\u2019s long doubts are solved in happy certainty:--\n\n     \u201cThen from her eyelids the quick tears did start,\n      And she ran to him from her place, and threw\n      Her arms about his neck, and a warm dew\n      Of kisses poured upon him, and thus spake:\n      \u2018Frown not, Odysseus; thou art wise and true!\n      But God gave sorrow, and hath grudged to make\n    Our path to old age sweet, nor willed us to partake\n\n     \u201c\u2018Youth\u2019s joys together. Yet forgive me this,\n      Nor hate me that when first I saw thy brow\n      I fell not on thy neck, and gave no kiss,\n      Nor wept in thy dear arms as I weep now.\n      For in my breast a bitter fear did bow\n      My soul, and I lived shuddering day by day,\n      Lest a strange man come hither, and avow\n      False things, and steal my spirit, and bewray\n    My love; such guile men scheme, to lead the pure astray.\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n     \u201c\u2018But now, since clearly thou unfoldest this,\n      The secret of our couch, which none hath read,\n      Save only thee and me and Actoris,\n      Whom my sire gave me, when I first was wed,\n      To guard the chamber of our bridal bed--\n       Now I believe against my own belief.\u2019\n      She ending a desire of weeping bred\n      Within him, and in tears the noble chief\n    Clasped his true wife, exulting in their glorious grief.\n\n     \u201cSweet as to swimmers the dry land appears,\n      Whose bark Poseidon in the angry sea\n      Strikes with a tempest, and in pieces tears,\n      And a few swimmers from the white deep flee,\n      Crested with salt foam, and with tremulous knee\n      Spring to the shore exulting; even so\n      Sweet was her husband to Penelope,\n      Nor from his neck could she at all let go\n    Her white arms, nor forbid her thickening tears to flow.\u201d\n\nWhen they retire to rest, each has a long tale to tell. The personal\nadventures of Ulysses alone (however careful he might have been to\nabridge them in some particulars for his present auditor) would have\nmade up many an Arabian Night\u2019s entertainment. There would surely have\nbeen little time left for Penelope\u2019s story, but that Minerva\u2019s agency\nlengthens the ordinary night--\n\n   \u201cNor from the rolling river of Ocean\u2019s stream\n    Suffered the golden-thron\u00e8d Dawn to beam,\n    Or yoke the horses that bear light to men.\u201d\n\nHere, according to our modern notions of completeness, the Odyssey\nshould surely end. Accordingly some critics have surmised that the\ntwenty-fourth and last book is not Homer\u2019s, but a later addition. But we\nmay very well suppose that the primitive taste for narrative in the\npoet\u2019s day was more simple and childlike; that an ancient Greek audience\nwould inquire, as our own children would, into all the details of the\nsequel, and not be satisfied even with the comprehensive assertion that\n\u201cthey lived happy ever afterwards.\u201d We have therefore, in the text as it\nhas come down to us, a kind of supplement to the tale, which, as is the\ncase with the later scenes in some of Shakespeare\u2019s tragedies, rather\nweakens the force of the real catastrophe. An episode at the beginning\nof this last book shows us again the regions of the dead, to which the\ngod Mercury is conducting the spirits of the dead suitors--pale ghosts\nwho follow him, gibbering and cowering with fear, into that \u201csunless\nland.\u201d The main purpose of the poet seems to be the opportunity once\nmore of introducing the shades of the great heroes, Achilles and\nAgamemnon; the latter contrasting his own miserable and dishonoured end\nwith that of Achilles, blest above all mortals, dying in battle with all\nthe flower of Ilium and Greece around him, and leaving a name which is a\nsound of glory over the whole earth. So also does he contrast, to\nPenelope\u2019s honour, her fidelity with the treachery of his own queen\nClytemnestra; giving voice to a prophecy which has been fulfilled almost\nbeyond even a poet\u2019s aspirations:--\n\n   \u201cO to her first one love how true was she!\n    Nought shall make dim the flower of her sweet fame\n    For ever, but the gods unceasingly\n    Shall to the earth\u2019s inhabitants her name,\n    Wide on the wings of song, with endless praise proclaim.\u201d\n\nUlysses himself has yet to visit and make himself known to his aged\nfather Laertes, who is still alive, but living in sad retirement on his\nisland-farm, solacing himself as well as he may with pruning and tending\nhis orchard-grounds. The recognition scene, in which the scar left by\nthe boar\u2019s tusk is once more the touchstone, will seem tedious, as\nsavouring too much of repetition, to most readers of our day. But there\nis one point which has a special and simple beauty of its own. When\nLaertes seems yet incredulous as to his son\u2019s identity, Ulysses reminds\nhim how, when he was yet a child, following his father about the\norchards, and begging with a child\u2019s pertinacity, he had given him \u201cfor\nhis very own\u201d a certain number of apple, fig, and pear trees and\nvines--all which he can still remember and enumerate. The token is\nirresistible, and the old man all but faints for joy.\n\nAn attempt at rebellion on the part of some of his Ithacan subjects, who\nare enraged at his slaughter of their nobles, and which is headed by the\nfather of the dead Antinous, fails to revive the fading interest of the\ntale. The ringleader falls by a spear cast by the trembling hand of\nLaertes, and the malcontents submit, after a brief contest, to their\nlawful chief.\n\nA hint of future travel for the hero leaves his history in some degree\nstill incomplete. A penance had been imposed upon him by the seer\nTiresias, by which alone he could appease Neptune for the cruel injury\ninflicted on his son, the giant Polyphemus. He must seek out some people\nwho had never seen the sea, and never eaten salt, and there offer\nsacrifice to the god. Then, and only then, he might hope to reign for\nthe rest of his life in peace amongst his islanders. Of the fulfilment\nof this pilgrimage the poet tells us nothing. Other legends represent\nUlysses as meeting his death at last from the hand of his own son\nTelegonus (born of his amour with Circe), who had landed in the island\nof Ithaca on a piratical enterprise. We may remark the coincidence--or\nthe imitation--in the later legend of the British Arthur, who is slain\nin battle by his illegitimate son Mordred. The veil which even tradition\nleaves hanging over the great wanderer\u2019s fate is no inappropriate\nconclusion to his story. A life of inaction, even in his old age, seems\nhardly suited to the poetical conception of this hero of unrest. In the\nfragmentary legends of the Middle Ages there is almost material for a\nsecond Odyssey. There, the Greek voyager becomes the pioneer of Atlantic\ndiscoverers--sailing still on into the unknown West in search of the\nEarthly Paradise, founding new cities as he goes, and at last meeting\nhis death in Atlantic waters. The Italian poets--Tasso, Pulci, and\nespecially Dante--adopted the tradition. In the \u2018Inferno\u2019 of the latter,\nthe spirit of Ulysses thus discloses the last scenes of his career:--\n\n   \u201cNor fondness for my son, nor reverence\n    Of my old father, nor return of love,\n    That should have crowned Penelope with joy,\n    Could overcome in me the zeal I had\n    To explore the world, and search the ways of life,\n    Man\u2019s evil and his virtue. Forth I sailed\n    Into the deep illimitable main,\n    With but one bark, and the small faithful band\n    That yet cleaved to me. As Iberia far,\n    Far as Marocco, either shore I saw,\n    And the Sardinian and each isle beside\n    Which round that ocean bathes. Tardy with age\n    Were I and my companions, when we came\n    To the strait pass, where Hercules ordained\n    The boundaries not to be o\u2019erstepped by man.[43]\n    The walls of Seville to my right I left,\n    On the other hand already Ceuta past.\n    \u2018O brothers!\u2019 I began, \u2018who to the west\n    Through perils without number now have reached;\n    To this the short remaining watch, that yet\n    Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof\n    Of the unpeopled world, following the track\n    Of Ph\u0153bus. Call to mind from whence ye sprang:\n    Ye were not formed to live the life of brutes,\n    But virtue to pursue and knowledge high.\u2019\n    With these few words I sharpened for the voyage\n    The mind of my associates, that I then\n    Could scarcely have withheld them. To the dawn\n    Our poop we turned, and for the witless flight\n    Made our oars wings,[44] still gaining on the left.\n    Each star of the other pole night now beheld,\n    And ours so low, that from the ocean floor\n    It rose not. Five times re-illumed, as oft\n    Vanished the light from underneath the moon,\n    Since the deep way we entered, when from far\n    Appeared a mountain dim, loftiest methought\n    Of all I e\u2019er beheld. Joy seized us straight;\n    But soon to mourning changed. From the new land\n    A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side\n    Did strike the vessel. Thrice it whirled her round\n    With all the waves; the fourth time lifted up\n    The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed:\n    And over us the booming billow closed.\u201d\n            --Inferno, xxvi. (Cary\u2019s transl.)\n\nThus also Mr Tennyson--drawing from Dante not less happily than he so\noften does from Homer--makes his Ulysses resign the idle sceptre into\nthe hands of the home-keeping Telemachus, and tempt the seas once more\nin quest of new adventures:--\n\n    \u201cThere lies the port: the vessel puffs her sail:\n     There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners,\n     Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought with me,\n     That ever with a frolic welcome took\n     The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed\n     Free hearts, free foreheads--you and I are old:\n     Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;\n     Death closes all, but something ere the end,\n     Some work of noble note, may yet be done.\n\n            *       *       *       *       *\n\n     \u2019Tis not too late to seek a newer world.\n     Push off, and sitting well in order smite\n     The sounding furrows: for my purpose holds\n     To sail beyond the sunset and the baths\n     Of all the western stars, until I die.\n     It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:\n     It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,\n     And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nCONCLUDING REMARKS.\n\n\nThe resemblance which these Homeric poems bear, in many remarkable\nfeatures, to the romances of medi\u00e6val chivalry, has been long ago\nremarked, and has already been incidentally noticed in these pages. The\npeculiar caste of kings and chiefs--or kings and knights, as they are\ncalled in the Arthurian and Carlovingian tales--before whom the\nunfortunate \u201cchurls\u201d tremble and fly like sheep, is a feature common to\nboth. \u201cThen were they afraid when they saw a knight\u201d--is the pregnant\nsentence which, in Mallory\u2019s \u2018King Arthur,\u2019 reveals a whole volume of\nsocial history; for the knight, in the particular instance, was but\nriding quietly along, and there ought to have been no reason why the\n\u201cchurls\u201d should dread the sight of a professed redresser of grievances.\nBut even so Ulysses condescends to use no argument to this class but the\nactive use of his staff; and Achilles dreads above all things dying \u201cthe\ndeath of a churl\u201d drowned in a brook. It is only the noble, the priest,\nand the divine bard who emerge into the light of romance. The lives and\nfeelings of the mere toilers for bread are held unworthy of the\nminstrel\u2019s celebration. Just as in the early romances of Christendom we\ndo not get much lower in the social scale than the knight and the lady,\nthe bishop and the wizard, so in these Homeric lays--even in the more\ndomestic Odyssey, unless we make Eum\u00e6us the exception--the tale still\nclings to the atmosphere of courts and palaces, and ignores almost\nentirely, unless for the purpose of drawing out a simile or\nillustration, the life-drama of the great mass of human kind. In both\nthese cycles of fiction we find represented a state of things--whether\nwe call it the \u201cheroic age\u201d or the \u201cage of chivalry\u201d--which could hardly\nhave existed in actual life; and in both the phase of civilisation, and\nthe magnificence of the properties and the scenery, seem far beyond what\nthe narrators could have themselves seen and known.\n\nThe character of the hero must not be judged by modern canons of\nmorality. With all the honest purpose and steadfast heart which we\nwillingly concede to him, we cannot but feel there is a shiftiness in\nhis proceedings from first to last which scarcely savours of true\nheroism. We need not call him, as Thersites does in Shakespeare, \u201cthat\ndog-fox Ulysses,\u201d nor even go quite so far as to look upon him as what a\nmodern translator terms him, \u201cthe Scapin of epic poetry;\u201d but we see in\nhim the embodiment of prudence, versatility, and expediency, rather than\nof the nobler and less selfish virtues. Ulysses, both in the Iliad and\nin the Odyssey, is the diplomatist of his age; and it is neither his\nfault nor Homer\u2019s that the diplomacy of that date was less refined, and\nless skilful in veiling its coarser features. Even in much later times,\ndissimulation has been held an indispensable quality in rulers;[45] and\nan English philosopher tells us plainly that \u201cthe intriguing spirit, the\noverreaching manner, and the over-refinement of art and policy, are\nnaturally incident to the experienced and thorough politician.\u201d[46] At\nthe same time, it must be remembered that Ulysses employs deceit only\nwhere it was recognised and allowed by the moral code of the\nage--against his enemies; he is never for a moment otherwise than true\nto his friends. Nay, while the kings and leaders in the Iliad are too\nfairly open to the reproach of holding cheap the lives and the interests\nof the meaner multitude who followed them, Ulysses is, throughout his\nlong wanderings, the sole protecting providence, so far as their\nwilfulness will allow him, of his followers as well as of himself.\n\nThe tale of his wanderings has been a rich mine of wealth for poets and\nromancers, painters and sculptors, from the dim date of the age which we\ncall Homer\u2019s down to our own. In this wonderful poem, be its authorship\nwhat it may, lie the germs of thousands of the volumes which fill our\nmodern libraries. Not that all their authors are either wilful\nplagiarists or even conscious imitators; but because the Greek poet,\nfirst of all whose thoughts have been preserved to us in writing,\ntouched, in their deepest as well as their lightest tones, those chords\nof human action and passion which find an echo in all hearts and in all\nages.\n\nFirst, that is to say, of all whose utterances we regard as merely\nhuman. There are, indeed, other recorded utterances to which the song of\nHomer, unlike as it is, has yet wonderful points of resemblance. For the\nstudent of Scripture, the prince of heathen poets possesses a special\ninterest. It is quite unnecessary to insist upon the actual connection\nwhich some enthusiastic champions of sacred literature have either\ntraced or fancied between the lays of the Greek bard and the inspired\nrecords of the chosen people. Whether the Hebrew chronicles, in any\nform, could have reached the eye or ear of the poet in his many\nwanderings is, to say the least, extremely doubtful. But Homer bears an\nindependent witness to the truth and accuracy of the sacred narrative,\nso far as its imagery and diction are to be taken into account, which is\nvery remarkable and valuable. Allowing for the difference in the local\nscenery, the reader of the Iliad may well fancy at times that he is\nfollowing the night-march of Abraham, the conquests of Joshua, or the\nwars of the Kings; while in the Odyssey the same domestic interiors, the\nsame primitive family life, the same simple patriarchal relations\nbetween the king or chief of the tribe and his people, remind us in\nevery page of the fresh and living pictures of the book of Genesis.\nFresh and living the portraits still are, in both cases, after the lapse\nof so many centuries, because in both the writers drew faithfully from\nwhat was before their eyes, without any straining after effect--without\nany betrayal of that self-consciousness which spoils many an author\u2019s\nbest work, by forcing his own individuality upon the reader instead of\nthat of the scenes and persons whom he represents. To trace the many\npoints of resemblance between these two great poems and the sacred\nrecords as fully as they might be traced would require a volume in\nitself. It may be enough in these pages shortly to point out some few of\nthe many instances in which Homer will be found one of the most\ninteresting, because assuredly one of the most unconscious, commentators\non the Bible.\n\nThe Homeric kings, like those of Israel and Judah, lead the battle in\ntheir chariots: Priam sits \u201cin the gate,\u201d like David or Solomon:\nUlysses, when he would assert his royalty, stands by a pillar, as stood\nJoash and Josiah. Their riches consist chiefly in \u201csheep and oxen,\nmen-servants and maid-servants.\u201d When Ulysses, in the Iliad, finds\nDiomed sleeping outside his tent,--\u201cand his comrades lay sleeping around\nhim, and under their heads they had their shields, and their spears were\nfixed in the ground by the butt-end\u201d[47]--we have the picture, almost\nword for word, of Saul\u2019s night-bivouac when he was surprised by David:\n\u201cAnd behold, Saul lay sleeping within the trench, and his spear stuck in\nthe ground at his bolster, and the people lay round about him.\u201d Ulysses\nand Diomed think it not beneath their dignity, as kings or chiefs, to\nact what we should consider the part of a spy, like Gideon in the camp\nof the Midianites. Lycurgus the Thracian slays with an ox-goad, like\nShamgar in the Book of Judges. The very cruelties of warfare are the\nsame--the insults too frequently offered to the dead body of an enemy,\n\u201cthe children dashed against the stones\u201d--the miserable sight which\nPriam foresees in the fall of his city, as Isaiah in the prophetic\nburden of Babylon.[48]\n\nThe outward tokens of grief are wholly Eastern. Achilles, in the Iliad,\nwhen he hears of the death of his friend Patroclus--Laertes, in the\nOdyssey, when he believes his son\u2019s return hopeless--throw dust upon\ntheir heads, like Joshua and the elders of Israel when they hear of the\ndisaster at Ai. King Priam tears his hair and beard in his vain appeal\nto Hector at the Sc\u00e6an gates, as Ezra does, when he hears of the\ntrespasses of the Jewish princes.[49] Penelope sits \u201con the threshold\u201d\nto weep, just as Moses \u201cheard the people weeping, every man in the door\nof his tent.\u201d \u201cCall for the mourning women,\u201d says the prophet\nJeremiah,[50] \u201cthat they may come; and let them make haste, and take up\na wailing for us.\u201d So when the Trojan king bears off his dead son at\nlast to his own palace, the professional mourners are immediately sent\nfor--\u201cthe bards, to begin the lament.\u201d[51] As Moses carries forth the\nbones of Joseph into Canaan, and David gathers carefully those of Saul\nand Jonathan from the men of Jabesh-Gilead, so Nestor charges the\nGreeks, when they have almost determined to quit Troy in despair, to\ncarry the bones of their slain comrades home to their native land.\nSarpedon\u2019s body is borne to his native Lycia, there to be honoured \u201cwith\na mound and with a column\u201d--as Jacob set up a pillar for his dead\nRachel on the road by Bethlehem. The Philistines, after the battle of\nGilboa, bestow the armour of Saul in the house of their goddess\nAshtaroth: the sword of Goliath is laid up as a trophy with the priest\nAhimelech, \u201cwrapped in a cloth behind the ephod;\u201d[52] even so does\nHector vow to hang up the armour of Menelaus in the temple of Apollo in\nTroy.\n\nThe more peaceful images have the same remarkable likeness. The fountain\nin the island of Ithaca, faced with stone, the work of the forefathers\nof the nation, Ithacus and Neritus, recalls that \u201cwell of the\noath\u201d--Beer-sheba--which Abraham dug, or that by which the woman of\nSamaria sat, known as \u201cthe well of our father Jacob.\u201d The stone which\nthe goddess Minerva upheaves to hurl against Mars, which \u201cmen of old had\nset to be a boundary of the land\u201d--the two white stones,[53] of unknown\ndate and history even in the poet\u2019s own day, of which he doubts whether\nthey be sepulchral or boundary, which Achilles made the turning-point\nfor the chariot-race,--these cannot fail to remind us of the stones\nBohan and Ebenezer, and of the warning in the Proverbs--\u201cRemove not the\nancient landmark, which thy fathers have set up.\u201d The women grinding at\nthe mill, the oxen treading out the corn, the measure by cubit, the\nchanges of raiment, the reverence due to the stranger and to the\npoor,--the dowry given by the bridegroom, as by way of purchase, not\nreceived with the bride,--all these are as familiar to us in the books\nof Moses as in the poems of Homer. The very figures of speech are the\nsame. The passionate apostrophe of Moses and Isaiah--\u201cHear, O heavens,\nand give ear, O earth\u201d--is used by Juno in the Iliad, and by Calypso in\nthe Odyssey.[54] \u201cDay\u201d is commonly employed as an equivalent for fate or\njudgment; \u201cthe half of one\u2019s kingdom\u201d is held to be a right royal gift;\n\u201cthe gates of hell\u201d are the culmination of evil. Telemachus swears \u201cby\nthe woes of his father,\u201d as Jacob does \u201cby the fear of his father\nIsaac;\u201d and the curse pronounced on Ph\u0153nix by his father--\u201cthat never\ngrandchild of his begetting might sit upon his knees\u201d[55]--recalls the\nsacred text in which we are told that \u201cthe children of Machir, the son\nof Manasseh, were brought up on Joseph\u2019s knees.\u201d\n\nMany and various have been the theories of interpretation which have\nbeen employed, by more or less ingenious writers, to develop what they\nhave considered the inner meaning of the poet\u2019s tale. Such speculations\nbegan at a very early date in literary history. They were current among\nGreek philosophers in the days of Socrates, but he himself would not\nadmit them. It is impossible, and would be wearisome even if it were\npossible, to discuss them all. But one especially must be mentioned, not\nwholly modern, but which has won much favour of late in the world of\nscholars,--that in both poems we have certain truths of physical and\nastronomical science represented under an allegorical form, imported\ninto Greek fable from Eastern sources. This theory is, to say the least,\nso interesting and ingenious, that without presuming here to discuss\nits truth, it claims a brief mention. It may be fairest to put it in the\nwords of one of its most enthusiastic advocates. So far as it applies to\nthe Odyssey, it stands thus:--\n\n\u201cThe Sun [Ulysses] leaves his bride the Twilight [Penelope] in the sky,\nwhere he sinks beneath the sea, to journey in silence and darkness to\nthe scene of the great fight with the powers of Darkness [the Siege of\nTroy]. The ten weary years of the war are the weary hours of the\nnight.... The victory is won: but the Sun still longs to see again the\nbeautiful bride from whom he parted yester-eve. Dangers may await him,\nbut they cannot arrest his steps: things lovely may lavish their beauty\nupon him, but they cannot make him forget her.... But he cannot reach\nhis home until another series of ten long years have come to an end--the\nSun cannot see the Twilight until another day is done.\u201d[56]\n\nSo, in the Iliad, as has been already noticed, Paris and the Trojans\nrepresent the powers of Darkness, \u201cwho steal away the beautiful Twilight\n[Helen] from the western sky;\u201d while Achilles is the Sun, who puts to\nrout these forces of the Night.[57]\n\nIn contrast, though not necessarily in contradiction, to this physical\nallegory, stands the moral interpretation, a favourite one with some of\nthe medi\u00e6val students of Homer, which sees in the Odyssey nothing less\nthan the pilgrimage of human life--beset with dangers and seductions on\nevery side, yet blessed with divine guidance, and reaching its goal at\nlast, through suffering and not without loss. Every point in the\nwanderings of the hero has been thus made to teach its parable, more or\nless successfully. The different adventures have each had their special\napplication: Circe represents the especially sensual appetites; the\nLotus-eating is indolence; the Sirens the temptations of the ear; the\nforbidden oxen of the Sun the \u201cflesh-pots of Egypt\u201d--the sin of\ngluttony. It is at least well worthy of remark how, throughout the whole\nnarrative, the false rest is brought into contrast with the true. Not in\nthe placid indolence of the Lotus-eaters, not in the luxurious halls of\nCirce or in the grotto of Calypso, nor even in the joyous society of the\nPh\u00e6acians, but only in the far-off home, the seat of the higher and\nbetter affections, is the pilgrim\u2019s real resting-place. The key-note of\nthis didactic interpretation, which has an undoubted beauty and pathos\nof its own, making the old Greek poet, like the Mosaic law, a\nschoolmaster to Christian doctrine, has been well touched by a modern\nwriter:--\n\n   \u201cO beautiful and strange epitome\n    Of this our life, while through the tale we trace\n    Homeless Ulysses on the land and sea!\n    From childhood to old age it is the face\n    Of heaven-lost, yearning man: from place to place\n    Whether he wander forth abroad, or knows\n    No change but of home-nature and of grace,\n    Still is he as one seeking for repose--\n    A man of many thoughts, a man of many woes.\u201d[58]\n\nSome of the early religious commentators pushed such interpretations to\nextravagance; they dealt with Homer as the extreme patristic school of\ntheology dealt with the Old Testament: they so busied themselves in\nseeking for mystical interpretations in every verse, that they held the\nplain and literal meaning of the text as of almost secondary importance.\nIt was said of one French scholar--D\u2019Aurat--a man of some learning, that\nhe spent his life in trying to find all the Bible in Homer. Such men saw\nParadise disguised in the gardens of Alcinous; the temptation of the\nchaste Bellerophon was but a pagan version of the story of Joseph; the\nfall of Troy evidently prefigured, to their fancy, the destruction of\nJerusalem. Some went even further, and turned this tempting weapon of\nallegory against their religious opponents: thus Doctor Jacobus Hugo saw\nthe Lutheran heretics prefigured in the Lotus-eaters of the Odyssey, and\nthought that the reckless Antinous was a type of Martin Luther himself.\nThose who are content to take Homer as he is, the poet of all ages,\nwithout seeking to set him up either as a prophet or as a moral\nphilosopher, may take comfort from, the brief criticism of Lord Bacon\nupon all over-curious interpretation--\u201cI do rather think the fable was\nfirst, and the exposition devised after.\u201d The most ingenious theories as\nto the hidden meaning of the song are at best but the mists which the\nHomerists have thrown round their deity--\n\n    \u201cThe moony vapour rolling round the king.\u201d\n\nHe moves among them all, a dim mysterious figure, but hardly less than\ndivine.\n\n\nEND OF THE ODYSSEY.\n\n\nPRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nEDUCATIONAL WORKS\n\nPUBLISHED BY\n\nWILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS,\n\nEDINBURGH AND LONDON.\n\n\n_English Language._\n\nAN ETYMOLOGICAL AND PRONOUNCING DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.\nIncluding a very copious selection of Scientific, Technical, and other\nTerms and Phrases. Designed for use in Schools and Colleges, and as a\nHandy Book for General Reference. By the Rev. JAMES STORMONTH, and the\nRev. P. H. PHELP, M.A. Crown 8vo, pp. 760, 7s. 6d.\n\nTHE SCHOOL ETYMOLOGICAL DICTIONARY AND WORD-BOOK. Combining the\nadvantages of an ordinary Pronouncing School Dictionary and an\nEtymological Spelling-Book. By the Rev. JAMES STORMONTH. Fcap. 8vo, pp.\n254, 2s.\n\nTHE HANDY SCHOOL DICTIONARY, PRONOUNCING AND EXPLANATORY. Also\ncontaining Lists of Prefixes and Postfixes; Rules for Spelling\ncorrectly; Words same in Sound but different in Spelling and Meaning;\nCommon Abbreviations; and Common Quotations from the Latin, French, &c.\nFor Use in Elementary Schools. By the Rev. JAMES STORMONTH, Author of\n\u2018The Etymological and Pronouncing Dictionary of the English Language,\u2019\n\u2018The School Etymological Dictionary,\u2019 &c.\n\n[_In the Press._\n\nA MANUAL OF ENGLISH PROSE LITERATURE, Biographical and Critical:\ndesigned mainly to show characteristics of style. By W. MINTO, M.A.\nCrown 8vo, 10s. 6d.\n\n\u201cIs a work which all who desire to make a close study of style in\nEnglish prose will do well to use attentively.\u201d--_Standard._\n\n\u201cHere we do not find the _crambe repetita_ of old critical formul\u00e6, the\nsimple echoes of superannuated rhetorical dicta, but a close and careful\nanalysis of the main attributes of style, as developed in the work of\nits greatest masters, stated with remarkable clearness of expression,\nand arranged upon a plan of most exact method. Nothing can be well\nconceived more consummate as a matter of skill than the analytical\nprocesses of the writer as he lays bare to our view the whole\nanatomy--even every joint and sinew and artery in the framework--of the\nsentence he dissects, and as he points out their reciprocal relations,\ntheir minute interdependencies.\u201d--_School Board Chronicle._\n\n\u201cAn admirable book, well selected and well put together.\u201d--_Westminster\nReview._\n\nCHARACTERISTICS OF ENGLISH POETS, FROM CHAUCER TO SHIRLEY. By WM. MINTO,\nM.A., Author of \u2018A Manual of English Prose Literature.\u2019 One vol. crown\n8vo.\n\n[_In the Press._\n\nPROGRESSIVE AND CLASSIFIED SPELLING-BOOK. By HANNAH R. LOCKWOOD,\nAuthoress of \u2018Little Mary\u2019s Mythology.\u2019 Fcap. 8vo, 1s. 6d.\n\n\nENGLISH PROSE COMPOSITION: A PRACTICAL MANUAL FOR USE IN SCHOOLS. By\nJAMES CURRIE, M.A., Principal of the Church of Scotland Training\nCollege, Edinburgh. Ninth Edition, 1s. 6d.\n\n\u201cWe do not remember having seen a work so completely to our mind as\nthis, which combines sound theory with judicious practice. Proceeding\nstep by step, it advances from the formation of the shortest sentences\nto the composition of complete essays, the pupil being everywhere\nfurnished with all needful assistance in the way of models and hints.\nNobody can work through such a book as this without thoroughly\nunderstanding the structure of sentences, and acquiring facility in\narranging and expressing his thoughts appropriately. It ought to be\nextensively used.\u201d--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Geography._\n\n\nNEW AND GREATLY IMPROVED EDITION.\n\nA MANUAL OF MODERN GEOGRAPHY, MATHEMATICAL, PHYSICAL, AND POLITICAL. By\nthe Rev. ALEXANDER MACKAY, LL.D., F.R.G.S. Crown 8vo, pp. 676. 7s. 6d.\n\nThis volume--the result of many years\u2019 unremitting application--is\nspecially adapted for the use of Teachers, Advanced Classes, Candidates\nfor the Civil Service, and proficients in geography generally.\n\n\nTWENTY-SIXTH THOUSAND.\n\nELEMENTS OF MODERN GEOGRAPHY. By the Same. Thirteenth Edition, revised\nto the present time. Crown 8vo, pp. 300. 3s.\n\nThe \u2018Elements\u2019 form a careful condensation of the \u2018Manual,\u2019 the order of\narrangement being the same, the river-systems of the globe playing the\nsame conspicuous part, the pronunciation being given, and the results of\nthe latest census being uniformly exhibited. This volume is now\nextensively introduced into many of the best schools in the kingdom.\n\n\n_In September will be Published_,\n\nTHE INTERMEDIATE GEOGRAPHY. Intended as an Intermediate Book between the\nAuthor\u2019s \u2018Outlines of Geography\u2019 and \u2018Elements of Geography.\u2019 By the\nSame. Crown 8vo, pp. 200, price 2s.\n\n\nSIXTY-FIFTH THOUSAND.\n\nOUTLINES OF MODERN GEOGRAPHY: SIXTEENTH EDITION, REVISED TO THE PRESENT\nTIME. By the Same. 18mo, pp. 112. 1s.\n\nThese \u2018Outlines\u2019--in many respects an epitome of the \u2018Elements\u2019--are\ncarefully prepared to meet the wants of beginners. The arrangement is\nthe same as in the Author\u2019s larger works. Minute details are avoided,\nthe broad outlines are graphically presented, the accentuation marked,\nand the most recent changes in political geography exhibited.\n\n\nFORTY-FOURTH THOUSAND, REVISED TO THE PRESENT TIME.\n\nFIRST STEPS IN GEOGRAPHY. By the Same. 18mo, pp. 56. Sewed, 4d. In\ncloth, 6d.\n\n\nGEOGRAPHY OF THE BRITISH EMPIRE. From \u2018First Steps in Geography.\u2019 By the\nSame. 3d.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Geographical Class-Books._\n\n\nOPINIONS OF DR MACKAY\u2019S SERIES.\n\nMANUAL.\n\nAnnual Address of the President of the Royal Geographical Society (Sir\nRoderick I. Murchison).--We must admire the ability and persevering\nresearch with which he has succeeded in imparting to his \u2018Manual\u2019 so\nmuch freshness and originality. In no respect is this character more\napparent than in the plan of arrangement, by which the author commences\nhis description of the physical geography of each tract by a sketch of\nits true basis or geological structure. The work is largely sold in\nScotland, but has not been sufficiently spoken of in England. It is,\nindeed, a most useful school-book in opening out geographical knowledge.\n\nSaturday Review.--It contains a prodigious array of geographical facts,\nand will be found useful for reference.\n\nEnglish Journal of Education.--Of all the Manuals on Geography that have\ncome under our notice, we place the one whose title is given above in\nthe first rank. For fulness of information, for knowledge of method in\narrangement, for the manner in which the details are handled, we know of\nno work that can, in these respects, compete with Mr Mackay\u2019s Manual.\n\n\nELEMENTS.\n\nA. KEITH JOHNSTON, LL.D., F.R.S.E., F.R.G.S., H.M. Geographer for\nScotland, Author of the \u2018Physical Atlas,\u2019 &c. &c.--There is no work of\nthe kind in this or any other language, known to me, which comes so near\nmy _ideal_ of perfection in a school-book, on the important subject of\nwhich it treats. In arrangement, style, selection of matter, clearness,\nand thorough accuracy of statement, it is without a rival; and knowing,\nas I do, the vast amount of labour and research you bestowed on its\nproduction, I trust it will be so appreciated as to insure, by an\nextensive sale, a well-merited reward.\n\nG. BICKERTON, Esq., Edinburgh Institution.--I have been led to form a\nvery high opinion of Mackay\u2019s \u2018Manual of Geography\u2019 and \u2018Elements of\nGeography,\u2019 partly from a careful examination of them, and partly from\nmy experience of the latter as a text-book in the EDINBURGH INSTITUTION.\nOne of their most valuable features is the elaborate Table of\nRiver-Basins and Towns, which is given in addition to the ordinary\nProvince or County list, so that a good idea may be obtained by the\npupil of the natural as well as the political relationship of the towns\nin each country. On all matters connected with Physical Geography,\nEthnography, Government, &c., the information is full, accurate, and\nwell digested. They are books that can be strongly recommended to the\nstudent of geography.\n\nRICHARD D. GRAHAM, English Master, College for Daughters of Ministers of\nthe Church of Scotland and of Professors in the Scottish\nUniversities.--No work with which I am acquainted so amply fulfils the\nconditions of a perfect text-book on the important subject of which it\ntreats, as Dr Mackay\u2019s \u2018Elements of Modern Geography.\u2019 In fulness and\naccuracy of details, in the scientific grouping of facts, combined with\nclearness and simplicity of statement, it stands alone, and leaves\nalmost nothing to be desired in the way of improvement. Eminently\nfitted, by reason of this exceptional variety and thoroughness, to meet\nall the requirements of higher education, it is never without a living\ninterest, which adapts it to the intelligence of ordinary pupils. It is\nnot the least of its merits that its information is abreast of all the\nlatest developments in geographical science, accurately exhibiting both\nthe recent political and territorial changes in Europe, and the many\nimportant results of modern travel and research.\n\nSpectator.--The best Geography we have ever met with.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Geology._\n\n\u201c_Few of our handbooks of popular science can be said to have greater or\nmore decisive merit than those of Mr Page on Geology and Pal\u00e6ontology.\nThey are clear and vigorous in style, they never oppress the reader with\na pedantic display of learning, nor overwhelm him with a pompous and\nsuperfluous terminology; and they have the happy art of taking him\nstraightway to the face of nature herself, instead of leading him by the\ntortuous and bewildering paths of technical system and artificial\nclassification._\u201d--Saturday Review.\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY TEXT-BOOK OF GEOLOGY. By DAVID PAGE, LL.D., Professor of\nGeology in the Durham University of Physical Science, Newcastle. With\nEngravings on Wood and Glossarial Index. Tenth Edition. 2s. 6d.\n\n\n\u201cIt has not been our good fortune to examine a text-book on science of\nwhich we could express an opinion so entirely favourable as we are\nenabled to do of Mr Page\u2019s little work.\u201d--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n\nADVANCED TEXT-BOOK OF GEOLOGY, DESCRIPTIVE AND INDUSTRIAL. By the Same.\nWith Engravings, and Glossary of Scientific Terms. Fifth Edition,\nrevised and enlarged. 7s. 6d.\n\n\u201cWe have carefully read this truly satisfactory book, and do not\nhesitate to say that it is an excellent compendium of the great facts of\nGeology, and written in a truthful and philosophic spirit.\u201d--_Edinburgh\nPhilosophical Journal._\n\n\u201cAs a school-book nothing can match the Advanced Text-Book of Geology by\nProfessor Page of Newcastle.\u201d--_Mechanics\u2019 Magazine._\n\n\u201cWe know of no introduction containing a larger amount of information in\nthe same space, and which we could more cordially recommend to the\ngeological student.\u201d--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n\nTHE GEOLOGICAL EXAMINATOR. A Progressive Series of Questions, adapted to\nthe Introductory and Advanced Text-Books of Geology. Prepared to assist\nTeachers in framing their Examinations, and Students in testing their\nown Progress and Proficiency. By the Same. Fifth Edition. 9d.\n\n\nSYNOPSES OF SUBJECTS TAUGHT IN THE GEOLOGICAL CLASS, College of Physical\nScience, Newcastle-on-Tyne, University of Durham. By the Same. Fcap.,\ncloth, 2s. 6d.\n\n\nTHE CRUST OF THE EARTH: A HANDY OUTLINE OF GEOLOGY. By the Same. Sixth\nEdition. 1s.\n\n\u201cAn eminently satisfactory work, giving, in less than 100 pages, an\nadmirable outline sketch of Geology, ... forming, if not a royal road,\nat least one of the smoothest we possess to an intelligent acquaintance\nwith geological phenomena.\u201d--_Scotsman._\n\n\u201cOf singular merit for its clearness and trustworthy\ncharacter.\u201d--_Standard._\n\n\nGEOLOGY FOR GENERAL READERS. A Series of Popular Sketches in Geology and\nPal\u00e6ontology. By the Same. Third Edition, enlarged. 6s.\n\n\u201cThis is one of the best of Mr Page\u2019s many good books. It is written in\na flowing popular style. Without illustration or any extraneous aid, the\nnarrative must prove attractive to any intelligent reader.\u201d--_Geological\nMagazine._\n\nHANDBOOK OF GEOLOGICAL TERMS, GEOLOGY, AND PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. By the\nSame. Second Edition, enlarged. 7s. 6d.\n\n\u201cThe only dictionary of Geology in the English language--modern in date,\nand exhaustive in treatment.\u201d--_Review._\n\n\nCHIPS AND CHAPTERS. A Book for Amateurs and Young Geologists. By the\nSame. 5s.\n\n\nTHE PAST AND PRESENT LIFE OF THE GLOBE. With numerous Illustrations. By\nthe Same. Crown 8vo. 6s.\n\n\nTHE PHILOSOPHY OF GEOLOGY. A Brief Review of the Aim, Scope, and\nCharacter of Geological Inquiry. By the Same. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d.\n\n\u201cThe great value of Mr Page\u2019s volume is its suggestive character. The\nproblems he discusses are the highest and most interesting in the\nscience--those on which it most becomes the thinkers and the leaders of\nthe age to make up their minds. The time is now past for geologists to\nobserve silence on these matters, and in this way to depreciate at once\nthe interest and importance of their investigations. It is well to know\nthat, however they may decide, questions of high philosophy are at\nstake, and therefore we give a hearty welcome to every book which, like\nMr Page\u2019s, discusses these questions in a fair and liberal\nspirit.\u201d--_Scotsman._\n\n\n_Physical Geography._\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY TEXT-BOOK OF PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. With Sketch-Maps and\nIllustrations. By DAVID PAGE, LL.D., Professor of Geology in the Durham\nUniversity of Physical Science, Newcastle. Sixth Edition. 2s. 6d.\n\n\u201cThe divisions of the subject are so clearly defined, the explanations\nare so lucid, the relations of one portion of the subject to another are\nso satisfactorily shown, and, above all, the bearings of the allied\nsciences to Physical Geography are brought out with so much precision,\nthat every reader will feel that difficulties have been removed, and the\npath of study smoothed before him.\u201d--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n\u201cWhether as a school-book or a manual for the private student, this work\nhas no equal in our Educational literature.\u201d--_Iron._\n\n\nADVANCED TEXT-BOOK OF PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. By the Same. With Engravings.\nSecond Edition. 5s.\n\n\u201cA thoroughly good Text-Book of Physical Geography.\u201d--_Saturday Review._\n\n\u201cIt is not often our good fortune to meet with scientific manuals so\ncheap and so excellent in matter, and so useful for the practical\npurposes of education, as this admirable work, which is beyond all\nquestion the best of its kind.\u201d--_Evening Standard._\n\n\nEXAMINATIONS ON PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. A Progressive Series of Questions,\nadapted to the Introductory and Advanced Text-Books of Physical\nGeography. By the Same. Second Edition. 9d.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nCOMPARATIVE GEOGRAPHY. By CARL RITTER. Translated by W. L. GAGE. Fcap.,\n3s. 6d.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Zoology._\n\n\nOUTLINES OF NATURAL HISTORY, for Beginners; being Descriptions of a\nProgressive Series of Zoological Types. By HENRY ALLEYNE NICHOLSON,\nM.D., F.R.S.E., F.G.S., &c., Professor of Zoology in the Royal College\nof Science, Dublin. 52 Engravings, 1s. 6d.\n\n\u201cThere has been no book since Patterson\u2019s well known \u2018Zoology for\nSchools\u2019 that has so completely provided for the class to which it is\naddressed as the capital little volume by Dr Nicholson.\u201d--_Popular\nScience Review._\n\n\n_BY THE SAME AUTHOR._\n\nINTRODUCTORY TEXT-BOOK OF ZOOLOGY, FOR THE USE OF JUNIOR CLASSES. With\n127 Engravings. A New Edition, 2s. 6d.\n\n\u201cVery suitable for junior classes in schools. There is no reason why any\none should not become acquainted with the principles of the science, and\nthe facts on which they are based, as set forth in this\nvolume.\u201d--_Lancet._\n\n\u201cNothing can be better adapted to its object than this cheap and\nwell-written Introduction.\u201d--_London Quarterly Review._\n\n\nTEXT-BOOK OF ZOOLOGY, FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS. Second Edition, enlarged.\nCrown 8vo, with 188 Engravings on Wood, 6s.\n\n\u201cThis capital introduction to natural history is illustrated and well\ngot up in every way. We should be glad to see it generally used in\nschools.\u201d--_Medical Press and Circular._\n\n\nA MANUAL OF ZOOLOGY, FOR THE USE OF STUDENTS. With a General\nIntroduction on the Principles of Zoology. Third Edition. Crown 8vo, pp.\n706, with 280 Engravings on Wood, 12s. 6d.\n\n\u201cIt is the best manual of zoology yet published, not merely in England,\nbut in Europe.\u201d--_Pall Mall Gazette, July 20, 1871._\n\n\u201cThe best treatise on Zoology in moderate compass that we\npossess.\u201d--_Lancet, May 18, 1872._\n\n\nA MANUAL OF PAL\u00c6ONTOLOGY, FOR THE USE OF STUDENTS. With a General\nIntroduction on the Principles of Pal\u00e6ontology. Crown 8vo, with upwards\nof 400 Engravings, 15s.\n\n\u201cThis book will be found to be one of the best of guides\nto the principles of Pal\u00e6ontology and the study of organic\nremains.\u201d--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n\nINTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF BIOLOGY. Crown 8vo, with numerous\nEngravings, 5s.\n\n\nEXAMINATIONS IN NATURAL HISTORY; being a Progressive Series of Questions\nadapted to the Author\u2019s Introductory and Advanced Text-Books and the\nStudent\u2019s Manual of Zoology. 1s.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_History._\n\n\nEPITOME OF ALISON\u2019S HISTORY OF EUROPE, FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS. Sixteenth\nEdition. Post 8vo, pp. 604. 7s. 6d. bound in leather.\n\n\nATLAS TO EPITOME OF THE HISTORY OF EUROPE. ELEVEN COLOURED MAPS. By A.\nKEITH JOHNSTON, LL.D., F.R.S.E. In 4to, 7s.\n\n\nTHE EIGHTEEN CHRISTIAN CENTURIES. By the Rev. JAMES WHITE, Author of\n\u2018The History of France.\u2019 Seventh Edition, post 8vo, with Index, 6s.\n\n\u201cHe goes to work upon the only true principle, and produces a picture\nthat at once satisfies truth, arrests the memory, and fills the\nimagination. It will be difficult to lay hands on any book of the kind\nmore useful and more entertaining.\u201d--_Times._\n\n\nHISTORY OF FRANCE, FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES. By the Rev. JAMES WHITE,\nAuthor of \u2018The Eighteen Christian Centuries.\u2019 Fifth Edition, post 8vo,\nwith Index, 6s.\n\n\u201cAn excellent and comprehensive compendium of French\nhistory.\u201d--_National Review._\n\n\nFACTS AND DATES; or, The Leading Events in Sacred and Profane History,\nand the Principal Facts in the Various Physical Sciences: the Memory\nbeing aided throughout by a Simple and Natural Method. For Schools and\nPrivate Reference. By the Rev. ALEX. MACKAY, LL.D., F.R.G.S., Author of\n\u2018A Manual of Modern Geography,\u2019 &c. Second Edition, crown 8vo, pp. 336.\n4s.\n\n\nTHE LIFE AND LABOURS OF THE APOSTLE PAUL. A continuous Narrative for\nSchools and Bible Classes. By CHARLES MICHIE, M.A. Second Edition,\nRevised and Enlarged. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, 1s.\n\n\u201cThe details are carefully collected and skilfully put together, and the\noutcome is a succinct, yet clear and comprehensive, view of the life and\nlabours of the great Apostle. The story of Paul\u2019s life, so replete with\nspirit-stirring incidents, is told in a manner extremely well fitted to\narrest the attention of advanced pupils, and we can with confidence\ncommend this little work as an admirable text-book for Bible-classes.\nThe narrative is enriched by footnotes, from which it is apparent that\nMr Michie is well posted up in the literature of the subject. These are\nsubjoined without any pretence or parade of learning, and only when\nrequired to elucidate or illustrate the text. The map at the close will\nenable the reader to trace the course of the Apostle in his various\nmissionary tours. We give this handbook our warm commendation: it\ncertainly deserves a wide circulation.\u201d--_National Education Gazette._\n\n\nA COURSE OF HISTORICAL STUDY, FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS AND FOR PRIVATE\nREADING. In Three Parts, comprising--Ancient History, Middle Ages,\nModern History. By MADEMOISELLE REYNAUD.\n\n[_In the Press._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIMPROVED EDITIONS.\n\n_School Atlases._\n\n\nBY A. KEITH JOHNSTON, LL.D., &c. Author of the Royal and the Physical\nAtlases, &c.\n\n\nATLAS OF GENERAL AND DESCRIPTIVE GEOGRAPHY. A New and Enlarged Edition,\nsuited to the best Text-Books; with Geographical information brought up\nto the time of publication. 26 Maps, clearly and uniformly printed in\ncolours, with Index. Imp. 8vo. Half-bound, 12s. 6d.\n\n\nATLAS OF PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY, illustrating, in a Series of Original\nDesigns, the Elementary Facts of GEOLOGY, HYDROGRAPHY, METEOROLOGY, and\nNATURAL HISTORY. a New and Enlarged Edition, containing 4 new Maps and\nLetter-press. 20 Coloured Maps. Imp. 8vo. Half-bound, 12s. 6d.\n\n\nATLAS OF ASTRONOMY. A New and Enlarged Edition, 21 Coloured Plates. With\nan Elementary Survey of the Heavens, designed as an accompaniment to\nthis Atlas, by ROBERT GRANT, LL.D., &c., Professor of Astronomy and\nDirector of the Observatory in the University of Glasgow. Imp. 8vo.\nHalf-bound, 12s. 6d.\n\n\nATLAS OF CLASSICAL GEOGRAPHY. A New and Enlarged Edition. Constructed\nfrom the best materials, and embodying the results of the most recent\ninvestigations, accompanied by a complete INDEX OF PLACES, in which the\nproper quantities are given by T. HARVEY and E. WORSLEY, MM.A. Oxon. 21\nColoured Maps. Imp. 8vo. Half-bound, 12s. 6d.\n\n\u201cThis Edition is so much enlarged and improved as to be virtually a new\nwork, surpassing everything else of the kind extant, both in utility and\nbeauty.\u201d--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n\nELEMENTARY ATLAS OF GENERAL AND DESCRIPTIVE GEOGRAPHY, for the Use of\nJunior Classes; including a MAP OF CANAAN and PALESTINE, with GENERAL\nINDEX. 8vo, half-bound, 5s.\n\n\nNEW ATLAS FOR PUPIL-TEACHERS.\n\nTHE HANDY ROYAL ATLAS. 46 Maps clearly printed and carefully coloured,\nwith GENERAL INDEX. Imp. 4to, \u00a32, 12s. 6d., half-bound morocco. A New\nEdition, brought up to the present time.\n\nThis work has been constructed for the purpose of placing in the hands\nof the public a useful and thoroughly accurate ATLAS of Maps of Modern\nGeography, in a convenient form, and at a moderate price. It is based on\nthe \u2018ROYAL ATLAS,\u2019 by the same Author; and, in so far as the scale\npermits, it comprises many of the excellences which its prototype is\nacknowledged to possess. The aim has been to make the book strictly what\nits name implies, a HANDY ATLAS--a valuable substitute for the \u2018Royal,\u2019\nwhere that is too bulky or too expensive to find a place, a needful\nauxiliary to the junior branches of families, and a _vade mecum_ to the\ntutor and the pupil-teacher.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Keith Johnston\u2019s Atlases._\n\n_EXTRACTS FROM OPINIONS OF THE PRESS._\n\n\nSCHOOL ATLASES.\n\n\u201cThey are as superior to all School Atlases within our knowledge, as\nwere the larger works of the same Author in advance of those that\npreceded them.\u201d--_Educational Times._\n\n\u201cDecidedly the best School Atlases we have ever seen.\u201d--_English Journal\nof Education._\n\n\u201c ... The \u2018Physical Atlas\u2019 seems to us particularly well executed....\nThe last generation had no such help to learning as is afforded in these\nexcellent elementary Maps. The \u2018Classical Atlas\u2019 is a great improvement\non what has usually gone by that name; not only is it fuller, but in\nsome cases it gives the same country more than once in different periods\nof time. Thus it approaches the special value of a historical atlas. The\n\u2018General Atlas\u2019 is wonderfully full and accurate for its scale....\nFinally, the \u2018Astronomical Atlas,\u2019 in which Mr Hind is responsible for\nthe scientific accuracy of the maps, supplies an admitted educational\nwant. No better companion to an elementary astronomical treatise could\nbe found than this cheap and convenient collection of maps.\u201d--_Saturday\nReview._\n\n\u201cThe plan of these Atlases is admirable, and the excellence of the plan\nis rivalled by the beauty of the execution.... The best security for the\naccuracy and substantial value of a School Atlas is to have it from the\nhands of a man like our Author, who has perfected his skill by the\nexecution of much larger works, and gained a character which he will be\ncareful not to jeopardise by attaching his name to anything that is\ncrude, slovenly, or superficial.\u201d--_Scotsman._\n\n\u201cThis Edition of the \u2018Classical Atlas\u2019 is so much enlarged and improved\nas to be virtually a new work, surpassing everything else of the kind\nextant, both in utility and beauty.\u201d--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n\nTHE HANDY ROYAL ATLAS.\n\n\u201cIs probably the best work of the kind now published.\u201d--_Times._\n\n\u201cNot only are the present territorial adjustments duly registered in all\nthese Maps, but the latest discoveries in Central Asia, in Africa, and\nAmerica, have been delineated with laborious fidelity. Indeed the ample\nillustration of recent discovery, and of the great groups of\ndependencies on the British Crown, renders Dr Johnston\u2019s the best of all\nAtlases for English use.\u201d--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n\u201cThis is Mr Keith Johnston\u2019s admirable Royal Atlas diminished in bulk\nand scale so as to be, perhaps, fairly entitled to the name of \u2018Handy,\u2019\nbut still not so much diminished but what it constitutes an accurate and\nuseful general Atlas for ordinary households.\u201d--_Spectator._\n\n\u201cThe \u2018Handy Atlas\u2019 is thoroughly deserving of its name. Not only does it\ncontain the latest information, but its size and arrangement render it\nperfect as a book of reference.\u201d--_Standard._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Arithmetic._\n\n\nTHE THEORY OF ARITHMETIC. By DAVID MUNN, F.R.S.E., Mathematical Master,\nRoyal High School of Edinburgh. Crown 8vo, pp. 294. 5s.\n\n\u201cWe want books of this kind very much--books which aim at developing the\neducational value of Arithmetic by showing how admirably it is\ncalculated to exercise the thinking powers of the young. Your book is, I\nthink, excellent--brief, but clear; and I look forward to the good\neffects which it shall produce, in awaking the minds of many who regard\nArithmetic as a mere mechanical process.\u201d--_Professor Kelland._\n\n\nELEMENTARY ARITHMETIC. By EDWARD SANG, F.R.S.E. This Treatise is\nintended to supply the great desideratum of an intellectual instead of a\nroutine course of instruction in Arithmetic. Post 8vo, 5s.\n\n\nTHE HIGHER ARITHMETIC. By the same Author. Being a Sequel to \u2018Elementary\nArithmetic.\u2019 Crown 8vo, 5s.\n\n\nFIVE-PLACE LOGARITHMS. Arranged by E. Sang, F.R.S.E. Sixpence. For the\nWaistcoat-Pocket.\n\n\nTREATISE ON ARITHMETIC, with numerous Exercises for Teaching in Classes.\nBy JAMES WATSON, one of the Masters of Heriot\u2019s Hospital. Foolscap, 1s.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Botany._\n\n\nADVANCED TEXT-BOOK OF BOTANY. For the Use of Students. By ROBERT BROWN,\nM.A., Ph.D., F.R.G.S., Lecturer on Botany under the Science and Art\nDepartment of the Committee of the Privy Council on Education. Crown\n8vo, with numerous Illustrations. 12s. 6d.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Agriculture._\n\n\nCATECHISM OF PRACTICAL AGRICULTURE. By HENRY STEPHENS, F.R.S.E., Author\nof the \u2018Book of the Farm.\u2019 A New Edition. With Engravings. 1s.\n\n\nPROFESSOR JOHNSTON\u2019S CATECHISM OF AGRICULTURAL CHEMISTRY. A New Edition,\nedited by Professor VOELCKER. With Engravings. 1s.\n\n\nPROFESSOR JOHNSTON\u2019S ELEMENTS OF AGRICULTURAL CHEMISTRY AND GEOLOGY. A\nNew Edition, revised and brought down to the present time, by G. T.\nATKINSON, B.A., F.C.S., Clifton College. Foolscap, 6s. 6d.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Miscellaneous._\n\n\nA TREASURY OF THE ENGLISH AND GERMAN LANGUAGES. Compiled from the best\nAuthors and Lexicographers in both Languages. Adapted to the Use of\nSchools, Students, Travellers, and Men of Business; and forming a\nCompanion to all German-English Dictionaries. By JOSEPH CAUVIN, LL.D. &\nPh.D., of the University of G\u00f6ttingen, &c. Crown 8vo 7s. 6d., bound in\ncloth.\n\n\u201cAn excellent English-German Dictionary, which supplies a real\nwant.\u201d--_Saturday Review._\n\n\u201cThe difficulty of translating English into German may be greatly\nalleviated by the use of this copious and excellent English-German\nDictionary, which specifies the different senses of each English word,\nand gives suitable German equivalents. It also supplies an abundance of\nidiomatic phraseology, with many passages from Shakespeare and other\nauthors aptly rendered in German. Compared with other dictionaries, it\nhas decidedly the advantage.\u201d--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY TEXT-BOOK OF METEOROLOGY. By ALEXANDER BUCHAN, M.A.,\nF.R.S.E., Secretary of the Scottish Meteorological Society, Author of\n\u2018Handy Book of Meteorology,\u2019 &c. Crown 8vo, with 8 Coloured Charts and\nother Engravings, pp. 218. 4s. 6d.\n\n\u201cA handy compendium of Meteorology by one of the most competent\nauthorities on this branch of science.\u201d--_Petermann\u2019s Geographische\nMittheilungen._\n\n\u201cWe can recommend it as a handy, clear, and scientific introduction to\nthe theory of Meteorology, written by a man who has evidently mastered\nhis subject.\u201d--_Lancet._\n\n\u201cAn exceedingly useful volume.\u201d--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n\nA GLOSSARY OF NAVIGATION. Containing the Definitions and Propositions of\nthe Science, Explanation of Terms, and Description of Instruments. By\nthe Rev. J. B. HARBORD, M.A., Assistant Director of Education,\nAdmiralty. Crown 8vo, Illustrated with Diagrams, 6s.\n\n\nDEFINITIONS AND DIAGRAMS IN ASTRONOMY AND NAVIGATION. By the Same. 1s.\n6d.\n\n\nELEMENTARY HANDBOOK OF PHYSICS. With 210 Diagrams. By WILLIAM ROSSITER,\nF.R.A.S., &c. Crown 8vo, pp. 390. 5s.\n\n\u201cA singularly interesting Treatise on Physics, founded on facts and\nphenomena gained at first hand by the Author, and expounded in a style\nwhich is a model of that simplicity and ease in writing which betokens\nmastery of the subject. To those who require a non-mathematical\nexposition of the principles of Physics a better book cannot be\nrecommended.\u201d--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nCrown 8vo, pp. 760, 7s. 6d.,\n\nAN ETYMOLOGICAL AND PRONOUNCING\n\nDICTIONARY\nOF\nTHE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.\n\nINCLUDING A VERY COPIOUS SELECTION OF\n\nSCIENTIFIC, TECHNICAL, AND OTHER TERMS AND PHRASES.\n\nDESIGNED FOR USE IN SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES,\n\nAND AS\n\nA HANDY BOOK FOR GENERAL REFERENCE.\n\nBY THE REV. JAMES STORMONTH,\n\nAND THE\n\nREV. P. H. PHELP, M.A.\n\n\n_OPINIONS OF THE PRESS._\n\n\u201cThis will be found a most admirable and useful Dictionary by the\nstudent, the man of business, or the general inquirer. Its design is to\nsupply a full and complete pronouncing etymological, and explanatory\nDictionary of the English language; and, as far as we can judge, in that\ndesign it most completely succeeds. It contains an unusual number of\nscientific names and terms, English phrases, and familiar\ncolloquialisms; this will considerably enhance its value to the general\nsearcher after information. The author seems to us to have planned the\nDictionary exceedingly well. The Dictionary words are printed in bold\nblack type, and in single letters, that being the form in which words\nare usually presented to the reader. Capital letters begin such words\nonly in proper names, and others which are always so printed. They are\ngrouped under a leading word, from which they may be presumed naturally\nto fall or be formed, or singly follow in alphabetical order--only so,\nhowever, when they are derived from the same leading root, and when the\nalphabetical order may not be materially disturbed. The roots are\nenclosed within brackets, and for them the works of the best and most\nrecent authorities seem to have been consulted. The meanings are those\nusually given, but they have been simplified as much as possible.\nNothing unnecessary is given; but, in the way of definition, there will\nbe found a vast quantity of new matter. The phonetic spelling of the\nwords has been carefully revised by a Cambridge graduate--Mr Phelp; and\nDr Page, the well-known geologist, has attended to the correctness of\nthe various scientific terms in the book. The Dictionary altogether is\nvery complete.\u201d--_Greenock Advertiser._\n\n\u201cThis Dictionary is admirable. The etymological part especially is good\nand sound. We have turned to \u2018calamity,\u2019 \u2018forest,\u2019 \u2018poltroon,\u2019 and a\nnumber of other crucial words, and find them all derived according to\nthe newest lights. There is nothing about \u2018calamus,\u2019 and \u2018foris,\u2019 and\n\u2018pollice truncus,\u2019 such as we used in the etymological dictionaries of\nthe old type. The work deserves a place in every English School, whether\nboys\u2019 or girls\u2019.\u201d--_Westminster Review._\n\n\u201cThat which is now before us is evidently a work on which enormous pains\nhave been bestowed. The compilation and arrangement give evidence of\nlaborious research and very extensive scholarship. Special care seems to\nhave been bestowed on the pronunciation and etymological derivation, and\nthe \u2018root-words\u2019 which are given are most valuable in helping to a\nknowledge of primary significations. All through the book are evidences\nof elaborate and conscientious work, and any one who masters the varied\ncontents of this Dictionary will not be far off the attainment of the\ncomplete art of \u2018writing the English language with propriety,\u2019 in the\nmatter of orthography at any rate.\u201d--_Belfast Northern Whig._\n\n\u201cThis strikes us as likely to prove a useful and valuable work.... The\nnumber of scientific terms given is far beyond what we have noticed in\nprevious works of this kind, and will in great measure render other\nspecial dictionaries superfluous. Great care seems also to have been\nexercised in giving the correct etymology and pronunciation of words. We\ntrust the work may meet with the success it deserves.\u201d--_Graphic._\n\n\u201cOn the whole, we may characterise Mr Stormonth\u2019s as a really good and\nvaluable Dictionary; and with the typical exceptions we have pointed\nout, we frankly allow his claim to have laboured earnestly and\nconscientiously in the production of it.\u201d--_Journal of Education._\n\n\u201cI have examined Stormonth\u2019s Dictionary minutely, and again and again\nwith satisfaction on points where other Dictionaries left me hopeless.\nIt is an elaborate and splendid work, and with its great fulness, its\ngrouping of words, and its meanings of phrases, should be the _vade\nmecum_ of every student. It is a book I would like very much to see in\nthe hands of all my advanced pupils.\u201d--_David Campbell, Esq., The\nAcademy, Montrose._\n\n\u201cI am happy to be able to express--and that in the strongest terms of\ncommendation--my opinion of the merits of this Dictionary. Considering\nthe extensive field which it covers, it seems to me a marvel of\npainstaking labour and general accuracy. With regard to the scientific\nand technical words so extensively introduced into it, I must say, that\nin this respect I know no Dictionary that so satisfactorily meets a real\nand widely felt want in our literature of reference. I have compared it\nwith the large and costly works of Latham, Wedgwood, and others, and\nfind that in the fulness of its details, and the clearness of its\ndefinitions, it holds its own even against them. The etymology has been\ntreated throughout with much intelligence, the most distinguished\nauthorities, and the most recent discoveries in philological science\nhaving been laid under careful contribution.\u201d--_Richard D. Graham, Esq.,\nEnglish Master, College for Daughters of Ministers of the Church of\nScotland, and of Professors in the Scottish Universities._\n\n\u201cFor clearness of printing, neatness of arrangement, and amount of\ninformation, this Dictionary leaves nothing to be desired; while its\ncorrectness and condensed form giving all that is necessary with no\nredundance, will prove of great service to all who want a work of\ncomplete and easy reference, without having recourse to a Cyclopedia. In\nall cases where I have referred to the etymology, I have found it most\nsatisfactory; once or twice after being unable to find a word in another\nDictionary, I have met what I wanted in this one.\u201d--_John Wingfield,\nEsq., M.A._\n\n\nTHE SCHOOL ETYMOLOGICAL DICTIONARY AND WORD-BOOK. Combining the\nadvantages of an ordinary Pronouncing School Dictionary and an\nEtymological Spelling-Book. By the Rev. JAMES STORMONTH. Fcap. 8vo, pp.\n254, 2s.\n\n\u201cThis is mainly an abridgment of Mr Stormonth\u2019s larger Etymological\nDictionary, which has already been favourably criticised in \u2018The\nSchoolmaster.\u2019 The Dictionary, which contains every word in ordinary\nuse, is followed up by a carefully prepared list of prefixes and\npostfixes, with illustrative examples, and a vocabulary of Latin, Greek,\nand other root-words, followed by derived English words. It will be\nobvious to every experienced teacher, that these lists may be made\navailable in many ways for imparting a sound knowledge of the English\nlanguage, and for helping unfortunate pupils over the terrible\ndifficulties of our unsystematic and stubborn orthography. We think this\nvolume will be a valuable addition to the pupil\u2019s store of books, and,\nif rightly used, will prove a safe and suggestive guide to a sound and\nthorough knowledge of his native tongue.\u201d--_The Schoolmaster._\n\n\u201cFor these reasons we always advocate the good old practice of teaching\nchildren English to a large extent by means of lists of spellings, all\nbut the most elementary classes learning spellings with \u2018meanings.\u2019 Mr\nStormonth, in this admirable word-book, has provided the means of\ncarrying out our principle in the higher classes, and of correcting all\nthe inexactness and want of completeness to which the English student of\nEnglish is liable. His book is an etymological dictionary curtailed and\ncondensed.... As a dictionary the book is very carefully compiled, and\nmuch labour has been expended on the task of economising words and space\nwith as little actual loss to the student as possible. The pronunciation\nis indicated by a neat system of symbols, easily mastered at the outset,\nand indeed pretty nearly speaking for themselves.\u201d--_School Board\nChronicle._\n\n\u201cA concise handy-book of this kind was much wanted in schools, for most\npocket-dictionaries are by no means reliable guides. Besides the word\nand its meaning, the pronunciation is given in each case, together with\nthe kindred or root words in other languages. The work seems very\ncomplete.\u201d--_Educational Times._\n\n\u201cThe derivations are particularly good.\u201d--_Westminster Review._\n\n\u201cThis cheap and careful abridgment of Mr Stormonth\u2019s larger Dictionary,\nwhich has met with so cordial a welcome in all quarters, will be\nreceived as a boon by all interested in the education of the young....\nWe heartily endorse its claim to be \u2018a thoroughly practical school-book,\nand fitted for daily use by the pupil in and out of the school-room, in\nthe preparation of the English lessons.\u2019\u201d--_Aberdeen Herald._\n\n\u201cThe work is admirably adapted for teaching the meanings of words, since\nafter the meanings of the various postfixes have been learnt, the pupil\nwill obtain excellent exercise in the formation of words derived from\nthose given in the Dictionary.\u201d--_Mechanics\u2019 Magazine._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_NOW COMPLETE._\n\nANCIENT CLASSICS\n\nFOR\n\nENGLISH READERS\n\nBY VARIOUS AUTHORS.\n\nEDITED BY\n\nREV. W. LUCAS COLLINS, M.A.\n\nAuthor of \u2018Etoniana,\u2019 \u2018The Public Schools,\u2019 &c.\n\n\nOPINIONS OF THE PRESS.\n\n\u201cWe gladly avail ourselves of this opportunity to recommend the other\nvolumes of this useful series, most of which are executed with\ndiscrimination and ability.\u201d--_Quarterly Review._\n\n\u201cThese Ancient Classics have, without an exception, a twofold value.\nThey are rich in literary interest, and they are rich in social and\nhistorical interest. We not only have a faithful presentation of the\nstamp and quality of the literature which the master-minds of the\nclassical world have bequeathed to the modern world, but we have a\nseries of admirably vivid and graphic pictures of what life at Athens\nand Rome was. We are not merely taken back over a space of twenty\ncenturies, and placed immediately under the shadow of the Acropolis, or\nin the very heart of the Forum, but we are at once brought behind the\nscenes of the old Roman and Athenian existence. As we see how the heroes\nof this \u2018new world which is the old\u2019 plotted, intrigued, and planned;\nhow private ambition and political partisanship were dominant and active\nmotives then as they are now; how the passions and the prejudices which\nreign supreme now reigned supreme then; above all, as we discover how\ncompletely many of what we may have been accustomed to consider our most\nessentially modern thoughts and sayings have been anticipated by the\npoets and orators, the philosophers and historians, who drank their\ninspiration by the banks of Ilissus or on the plains of Tiber, we are\nprompted to ask whether the advance of some twenty centuries has worked\nany great change in humanity, and whether, substituting the coat for the\ntoga, the park for the Campus Martius, the Houses of Parliament for the\nForum, Cicero might not have been a public man in London as well as an\norator in Rome?\u201d--_Morning Advertiser._\n\n\u201cIt is difficult to estimate too highly the value of such a series as\nthis in giving \u2018English readers\u2019 an insight, exact as far as it goes,\ninto those olden times which are so remote and yet to many of us so\nclose. It is in no wise to be looked upon as a rival to the translations\nwhich have at no time been brought forth in greater abundance or in\ngreater excellence than in our own day. On the contrary, we should hope\nthat these little volumes would be in many cases but a kind of\nstepping-stone to the larger works, and would lead many who otherwise\nwould have remained in ignorance of them to turn to the versions of\nConington, Worsley, Derby, or Lytton. In any case a reader would come\nwith far greater knowledge, and therefore with far greater enjoyment, to\nthe complete translation, who had first had the ground broken for him by\none of these volumes.\u201d--_Saturday Review, Jan. 18._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNow complete, in 20 vols., fcap. 8vo, 2s. 6d. each,\n\n_Ancient Classics for English Readers._\n\n\n1.--HOMER: THE ILIAD. By THE EDITOR.\n\n2.--HOMER: THE ODYSSEY. By THE EDITOR.\n\n3.--HERODOTUS. By GEORGE C. SWAYNE, M.A.\n\n4.--THE COMMENTARIES OF C\u00c6SAR. By ANTHONY TROLLOPE.\n\n5.--VIRGIL. By THE EDITOR.\n\n6.--HORACE. By THEODORE MARTIN.\n\n7.--\u00c6SCHYLUS. By REGINALD S. COPLESTON, B.A.\n\n8.--XENOPHON. By SIR ALEXANDER GRANT, Bart., Principal of\n      the University of Edinburgh.\n\n9.--CICERO. By THE EDITOR.\n\n10.--SOPHOCLES. By CLIFTON W. COLLINS, M.A.\n\n11.--PLINY\u2019S LETTERS. By the Rev. ALFRED CHURCH, M.A.,\n        and the Rev. W. J. BRODRIBB, M.A.\n\n12.--EURIPIDES. BY W. B. DONNE.\n\n13.--JUVENAL. By EDWARD WALFORD, M.A.\n\n14.--ARISTOPHANES. By THE EDITOR.\n\n15.--HESIOD AND THEOGNIS. By the Rev. J. DAVIS, M.A.\n\n16.--PLAUTUS AND TERENCE. By THE EDITOR.\n\n17.--TACITUS. By W. B. DONNE.\n\n18.--LUCIAN. By THE EDITOR.\n\n19.--PLATO. By CLIFTON W. COLLINS, M.A.\n\n20.--THE GREEK ANTHOLOGY. By LORD NEAVES.\n\n\n45 GEORGE STREET, EDINBURGH; 37 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] Said to be an Ionian term--\u201cOne who follows a guide.\u201d There are\nseveral other interpretations of the name, not necessary to be given\nhere.\n\n[2] Max M\u00fcller; Cox\u2019s Tales of Ancient Greece.\n\n[3] Curtius\u2019s Hist. of Greece, i. 80.\n\n[4] Grote, Hist. of Greece, i. 271.\n\n[5] It can hardly be necessary to do more than remind the reader how\nexquisitely this story is told in Tennyson\u2019s \u201c\u0152none.\u201d\n\n[6] \u201cStanding before the castle portal of Mycen\u00e6, even he who knows\nnothing of Homer must imagine to himself a king like the Homeric\nAgamemnon, a warlike lord with army and fleet, who maintained relations\nwith Asia, and her wealth of gold and arts.\u201d--Curtius\u2019s Hist. of\nGreece, i. 145.\n\n[7] Catullus\u2019s Nuptials of Peleus and Thetis (transl. by Theodore\nMartin).\n\n[8] The legend bears a remarkable resemblance to that of the hero\nSiegfried, in the German \u2018Nibelungen Lied.\u2019 By bathing in the blood\nof the slain dragon he acquires the same property of invulnerability,\nwith the exception of one spot on his back which had been kept dry by a\nfallen leaf. And he meets his death, like Achilles, by a wound in that\nspot, dealt treacherously.\n\n[9] Nat. Hist., xvi. 44.\n\n[10] The mythology of Homer supposes the gods to dwell in an a\u00ebrial\ncity on Mount Olympus (in the north-east of Thessaly), whose summit\nwas always veiled in cloud, and from which there was imagined to be an\nopening into the heavens.\n\n[11] Why specially \u201cblameless?\u201d has been sometimes asked. The author of\nthe \u2018Mill on the Floss\u2019 suggests that it was because they lived so far\noff that they had no neighbours to criticise them.\n\n[12] Translations, 1863.\n\n[13] It may be satisfactory to a matter-of-fact reader to know that\nEurybates, his attendant, takes care of it. The old Greek bard is much\nmore particular on such points than modern novelists, who make even\ntheir heroines take sudden journeys without (apparently) having any\nchance of carrying with them so much as a _sac-de-nuit_.\n\n[14] Page 17.\n\n[15] Macaulay\u2019s Lays of Ancient Rome.\n\n[16] Book iii. st. 12.\n\n[17] There is a parallel, probably quite unconscious and therefore a\nhigher testimony to the truth of Homer\u2019s simile, in Kinglake\u2019s vivid\ndescription of the charge of Scarlett\u2019s brigade on the Russian cavalry\nat Balaclava: \u201cAs heard on the edge of the Chersonese, a mile and a\nhalf towards the west, the collected roar which arose from this thicket\nof intermixed combatants had the unity of sound which belongs to the\nmoan of a distant sea.\u201d--Kinglake\u2019s Crimea, iv. 174.\n\n[18] The idea is borrowed by Milton in a well-known passage;--\n\n                              \u201cTo nobler sights\n    Michael from Adam\u2019s eyes the film removed\n    Which that false fruit, which promised clearer sight,\n    Had bred; then purged with euphrasy and rue\n    The visual nerve, for he had much to see.\u201d\n            --Par. Lost, xi. 411.\n\n\n[19] There is pretty good authority for considering the whole of this\nnight expedition, which forms a separate book (the tenth) in the\ndivision of the poem, as an interpolation. It is a separate lay of an\nexploit performed by Ulysses and Diomed, and certainly does not in any\nway affect the action of the poem.\n\n[20] Eustathius, as quoted by Pope.\n\n[21] Madame Dacier\u2019s remarks on this valuation, and Pope\u2019s note upon\nthem, are amusing:--\n\n\u201cI cannot in civility neglect a remark made upon this passage by\nMadame Dacier, who highly resents the affront put upon her sex by the\nancients, who set (it seems) thrice the value upon a tripod as upon a\nbeautiful female slave. Nay, she is afraid, the value of women is not\nraised even in our days; for she says there are curious persons now\nliving who had rather have a true antique kettle than the finest woman\nalive. I confess I entirely agree with the lady, and must impute such\nopinions of the fair sex to want of taste in both ancients and moderns.\nThe reader may remember that these tripods were of no use, but made\nentirely for show; and consequently the most satirical critick could\nonly say, the woman and tripod ought to have borne an equal value.\u201d\n\n[22] Liter. of Anc. Greece, i. 349.\n\n[23] Short Studies on Great Subjects, ii. 175.\n\n[24] Guido de Colonna.\n\n[25] Gladstone.\n\n[26] See Iliad, p. 143.\n\n[27] Ulysses Homer; or, a Discovery of the True Author of the Iliad and\nOdyssey. By Constantine Koliades.\n\n[28] B. xiii. 345 (st. 45, Worsley).\n\n[29] Probably the modern Coryphasium.\n\n[30] See Hayman\u2019s Odyssey, I. 118, note.\n\n[31] The Esquimaux adopt the very same stratagem in order to get near\nthe seals. \u201cSir Edward Beecher, in a dissertation on Esquimaux habits\nread before the British Association, told a story, that he was once\nlevelling his rifle at a supposed seal, when a shipmate\u2019s well-known\nvoice from within the hide arrested his aim with the words, \u2018Don\u2019t\nshoot--it\u2019s Husky, sir!\u2019\u201d--Hayman\u2019s Odyssey, app. xliii.\n\n[32] Possibly Corfu, if the geography is to be at all identified.\n\n[33] This humorous impersonation of one of the lowest, but certainly\nthe strongest, influences of our common nature, has been made use of\nby later writers. The Roman poets Virgil and Persius take up Homer\u2019s\nidea; and Rabelais, closely following the latter, introduces his\nreaders to a certain powerful personage whom he found surrounded by\nworshippers--\u201cone Master Gaster, the greatest Master of Arts in the\nworld.\u201d [\u201cGaster\u201d is Homer\u2019s Greek word, which Mr Worsley renders by\n\u201cappetite,\u201d but which is more literally Englished by the old Scriptural\nword \u201cbelly.\u201d]\n\n[34] The Greek historian Herodotus places a tribe of lotus-eaters,\n\u201cwho live by eating nothing but the fruit of the lotus,\u201d on the coast\nof Africa somewhere near Tripoli. Pliny and other ancient writers on\nnatural history speak of this fruit as in shape like an olive, with a\nflavour like that of figs or dates, not only pleasant to eat fresh, but\nwhich, when dry, was made into a kind of meal. The English travellers\nShaw and Park found (in the close neighbourhood of Herodotus\u2019\nlotus-eaters) what they thought to be the true lotus--a shrub bearing\n\u201csmall farinaceous berries, of a yellow colour and delicious taste.\u201d\nPark says--\u201cAn army may very well have been fed with the bread I have\ntasted made of the meal of the fruit, as is said by Pliny to have\nbeen done in Libya.\u201d There is also a water-plant in Egypt mentioned\nby Herodotus under the name of lotus--probably the _Nymph\u00e6a lotus_ of\nLinn\u00e6us.\n\n[35] Tennyson, \u201cThe Lotus-Eaters.\u201d\n\n[36] So sensible was F\u00e9n\u00e9lon of this contrast that, in his romance\nalready mentioned, when he describes Calypso\u2019s cave, he thinks it\nnecessary, like a true Frenchman of the days of the great Louis, almost\nto apologise for the rude simplicity of nature, as hardly befitting so\nenchanting a personage. There were no statues, he says, no pictures, no\npainted ceilings, but the roof was set with shells and pebbles, and the\nwant of tapestry was supplied by the tendrils of a vine.\n\n[37] So the Spirit, in Milton\u2019s \u201cComus,\u201d gives to the brother of the\nLady a sure antidote to the spell of the enchanter (himself represented\nas a son of Circe):--\n\n    \u201cAmong the rest a small unsightly root,\n     But of divine effect, he culled me out;\n     The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on\u2019t,\n     But in another country, as he said,\n     Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil:\n     Unknown, and like esteemed, and the dull swain\n     Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon;\n     And yet more med\u2019cinal is it than that Moly\n     That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave.\u201d\n\n\n[38] The judges of the Dead--Minos, Rhadamanthus, and \u00c6acus.\n\n[39] \u2018Faery Queen,\u2019 Book ii. c. 12.\n\n[40] When Adam Bede speaks roughly to his mother, and then tenderly to\nhis dog Gyp, the author thus moralises on his inconsistency: \u201cWe are\napt to be kinder to the brutes that love us than to the women that love\nus. Is it because the brutes are _dumb_?\u201d\n\n[41] From this maternal ancestor Ulysses might have inherited a large\nshare of the subtlety which distinguished him. Autolycus was the\nreputed son of Hermes (Mercury)--the god of thieves--and did not in\nthat point disgrace his blood. He was said to have the power of so\ntransforming all stolen property, that the owner could not possibly\nrecognise it. Shakespeare borrows the name, and some of the qualities,\nfor one of his characters in the \u2018Winter\u2019s Tale\u2019--\u201cAutolycus, a rogue,\u201d\nas he stands in the list of _dramatis person\u00e6_, who professes himself\n\u201cnot naturally honest, but sometimes so by chance.\u201d\n\n[42] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03be\u1f7a \u03c0\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9 \u03ba\u03cd\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c7\u03b5\u03af\u03bb\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f04\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\n\n[43] The Straits of Gibraltar.\n\n[44] The metaphor is Homer\u2019s, Odyss. xi. 124.\n\n[45] \u201cQui nescit dissimulare, nescit regnare.\u201d\n\n[46] Shaftesbury\u2019s Characteristics.\n\n[47] Il. x. 150.\n\n[48] Isa. xiii. 16.\n\n[49] Ezra ix. 3.\n\n[50] Jer. ix. 17.\n\n[51] Il. xxiv. 720.\n\n[52] 1 Sam. xxi. 9.\n\n[53] Il. xxiii. 329.\n\n[54] Il. xv. 36. Od. v. 184.\n\n[55] Il. ix. 455.\n\n[56] Cox\u2019s \u2018Tales of the Gods and Heroes,\u2019 p. lvii.\n\n[57] Iliad, p. 8. (Paris is said to be the Sanscrit Pani--\u201cthe\ndeceiver;\u201d Helen is Saram\u00e0--\u201cthe Dawn;\u201d and Achilles is the solar hero\nAharyu.)\n\n[58] Williams\u2019s \u2018Christian Scholar.\u2019","title":"Homer: The Iliad; The Odyssey","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":83448}