'^tfOJIlWJO' '"rmiimi^^ ^•ijmwsw '■^/Si -< aofcaufo% j.OFCAUFOR<^ .^V\E•UNIVER%. ^l ^XinoNvsni^ % .^W!•UNIVERy/A ^^.0FCAIIF0% ^01 >&AMVHflnA^^ '^0' v^ . CO ■•■• so ^lUBRARYOr, ^lUBRARYQ^ .^WE•UNIVER% ce. <. ^^OJI1V3-40"^ ^OJIWDJO^ * %JI1V3J0^ "^tfi ^tfOJIlYDJO^" '^.tfOJIlVDJO^' miw ^.OFCALIFOftf^ ^.OFCMIFOR^ "^(JAHvagn-i^ "^OAavaaiH^ ^V\E•UNIVERVA "^xiiaoNvsoi^' -t ,\WEUMIVERjy/, ^lOSANCElfX^ ^ "<^U3NVS01^ <_3 5 jo>^' AWEUNIVERS/a © — I ra '2. CONTENTS. BOOK I. „^^„ PAGE Tlie Contention of Achilles and Agamemnon 61 BOOK II. The Trial of the Army, and Catalogue of the Forces 85 BOOK III. The Duel of Menelaiis and Paris 115 BOOK IV. Tlie Breach of the Truce, and the First Battle 131 BOOK V. The Acts of Diomed 148 BOOK VI. The Episodes of Glaucus and Diomed, and of Hector and Andromache 1^6 BOOK VII. The Single Combat of Hector and Ajax 194 BOOK VIII. The Second Battle, t^nd the Distress of the Greeks 209 BOOK IX. The Embassy to Achilles 228 BOOK X. The Night Adventure of Diomed and Ulysses 250 BOOK XI. The Third Battle, and the Act.s of Agamemnon 267 iv CONTENTS. BOOK XII. PAGE The Battle at the Grecian Wall 291 BOOK XIII. The Fourth Battle Continued, in which Neptune Assists the Greeks — The Acts of Idomeneus 305 BOOK XIV. Juno Deceives Jupiter by the Girdle of Venus 330 BOOK XV. The Fifth Battle, at the Ships; and the Acts of Ajax 346 BOOK XVI. The Sixth Battle; the Acts and Death of Patroclus 368 BOOK XVII. The Seventh Battle, for the Body of Patroclus — The Acts of Menelaiis , 394 BOOK XVIII. The Grief of Achilles, and New Armor Made Him by Vulcan . . 415 BOOK XIX. The Reconciliation of Achilles and Agamemnon 434 BOOK XX. The Battle of the Gods, and the Acts of Achilles 446 BOOK XXL The Battle in the River Scamander 461 BOOK XXII. The Death of Hector „ 479 BOOK xxni. Funeral Games in Honor of Patroclus 495 BOOK XXIV. The Redemption of the Body of Hector 531 INTRODUCTION. Skepticism is as much the result of knowledge, as knowledge is of skepticism. To be content with what we at present know, is, for the most part, to shut our ears against conviction; since, from the very gradual character of our education, we must continually forget, and emancipate ourselves from, knowledge previously acquired; we must set aside old notions and embrace fresh ones; and as we learn, we must be daily unlearn- ing something wliich it has cost us no small labor and anxiety to acquire. And" this ditficulty attaches itself more closely to an age in which progress has gained a strong ascendency over prejudice, and in which persons and things are, day by day, finding their real level, in lieu of their conventional value. The same principles which have swept away traditional abuses, and which are making rapid havoc among the revenues of sinecurists, and stripping the thin, tawdry veil from attractive supersti- tions, are working as actively in literature as in society. The credulity of one writer, or the partiality of an- other, finds as powerful a touchstone and as wiiolesome a chastisement in the healthy skepticism of a temperate class of antagonists, as tlie dreams of conservatism, or the impostures of pluralist sinecures in the Church. History and tradition, whether of ancient or compara- tively recent times, are subjected to very diiferent handling from that which the indulgence or credulity of former ages could allow. Mere statements are jeal- ously watched, and the motives of the writer form as important an ingredient in the analysis of his history, as tiie facts lie records. Probability is a powerful and troublesome test; and it is by this troublesome standard that a large poi'tion of historical evidence is sifted. (Jonsistency is no less pertinacious and exacting in its demands. In brief, to write a history, we must know more than mere facts. Human nature, viewed under an induction of cxtonde'sonce in two dramas as nnlike in principles as in style. He appears as the ennnciator of opinions as different in their tone as those of the writers who have handed them down. When we have read Plato or Xenophon, we think we know something of Socrates; when we have fairly read and examined both, we feel convinced that we are something worse than ignorant. It has been an easy, and a popular expedient, of late years, to deny the personal or real existence of men and things whose life and condition were too much for our belief. This system — which has often comforted the religious skeptic, and suhstituted the consolations of Strauss for those of the New Testament— has been of incalculable value to the historical theorists of the last and present centuries. To question the existence of Alexander the Great would be a more excusable act ■ tlktm to believe in that of Romulus. To deny a fact related in Herodotus, because it is inconsistent with a theory developed from an Assyrian inscription which no two scholars read in the same way, is more pardona-^ ble than to believe in the good-natured old king whom the elegant pen of Florian has ideaMzed—Suma Fom- pilius. Skepticism has attained its culminating point with respect to Homer, and the state of our Homeric knowl- edge may be described as a free permission to believe any theory, provided we throw overboard all written tradition concerning the author or authors of the Iliad and Odyssey. AVhat few authorities exist on the sub- ject are" summarily dismissed, although the arguments ajjpear to run in a circle. "This cannot be true, be- cause it is not true; and that is not true, because it cannot be true." Such seems to be the style in which testimony ujion testimony, statement upon statement, is consigned to denial and oblivion. It is, hownvor, unfortuiiate that the professed biogra- phies of Hoiiiur are partly forgeries, partly freaks of ingenuity and imagination, in which truth is the requi- site most wanting, iicroro taking a brief review of the Homeric theory in its present conditions, some notice must be taken of the treatise on the Life of Homer which has been attributed to Herodotus. 8 INTRODUCTION. According to this docnment, the city of Cnmae in /Eolia, was, at an early period, the seat of frequent immigrations from various parts of Greece. Among the immigrants was Menapolus, the son of Ithagenes. Although poor, he married, and the result of the union was a girl named Critheis. The girl was left an orphan at an early age, under the guardianship of Cleanax, of Argos. It is to the indiscretion of this maiden that we "are indebted for so much happiness." Homer was the first fruit of her juvenile frailty, and received the name of Melesignes, from having been born near the river Meles, in Boeotia, whither Critheis had been transi^orted in order to save her reputation. "At this time," continues our narrative, "there lived at Symrna a man named Phemius, a teacher of litera- ture and music, who, not being married, engaged Cri- theis to manage his household, and spin the flax he received as the price of his scholastic labors. So satis- factory was her performance of this task, and so modest her conduct, that he made proposals of marriage, de- claring himself, as a further inducement, willing to adopt her son, who, he asserted, woukl become a clever man if he were carefully brought up." They were married; careful cultivation ripened the talents which nature had bestowed, and Melesigenes soon surpassed his schoolfellows in every attainment, and, when older, rivaled his preceptor in wisdom. Phemius died, leaving him sole heir to his property, and his mother soon followed. Melesigenes carried on his adopted father's school with great success, exciting the admiration not only of the inhabitants of Smyrna, bnt also of the strangers whom the trade carried on there, especially in the exportation of corn, attracted to that city. Among these visitors, one Mentes, from Leucadia, the modern Santa Maura, who evinced a knowledge and intelligence rarely found in those times, persuaded Melesigenes to close his school, and accom- pany him on his travels. He promised not only to pay his expenses, but to furnish him with a further stipend, urging, that, "While he was yet young, it was fitting that he should see with his own eyes the countries and cities which might hereafter be the subjects of his dis- courses." Melesigenes consented, and set out with his patron, "examining all the curiosities of the countries they visited, and informing himself of everything by INTRODUCTION. 9 interrogating those whom he met." We may also sup- pose, that he wrote memoirs of all that he deemed worthy of preservation.* Having set sail from Tyr- rhenia and Iberia, they reached Ithaca. Here Mele- sigenes, who had already snlfered in his eyes, became much worse; and Mentes, who was about to leave for Leucadia, left him to the medical superintendence of a friend of his, named Mentor, the son of Alcinor. Un- der his hospitable and intelligent host, Melesigenes rapidly became acquainted with the legends respecting Ulysses, which afterward formed the subject of the Odyssey. The inhabitants of Ithaca assert, that it was here that Melesigenes became blind, but the Colopho- nians make their city the seat of that misfortune. He then returned to Smyrna, where he applied himself to the study of poetry. f But poverty soon drove him to Cum^. Having passed over the Hermaean plain, he arrived at Neon Teichos, the New Wall, a colony of Cumte. Here his misfor- tunes and poetical talent gained him the friendship of one Tychias, an armorer. ''And up to my time," con- tinued the author, "the inhabitants showed the place where he used to sit when giving a recitation of his verses; and they greatly honored the spot. Here also *EiMoi Se Miv fjv xai i.iv7]i.i66vva Tcdvrojy ypdcpedOat. Vit. Horn, in Scbweigb. Herodot. t. iv. j). 299, sq. i^ 6. I may- observe tbat this Life bas been parapbrased in En^rlisb by my learned younfij friend, Kennetb R. H. Mackenzie, and appended to my prose translation of tbe Odyssey. Tbe present abridgment, however, will contain all tbat is of use to tbe reader, for tbe biograpbical value of tbe treatise is most insignificant. f /. e. botb of composing and reciting verses, for, as Blair ob- serves, " Tbe first poets sang tbeir own verses." Sextus Empir. adv. Mus. p. 360. ed. Fabric. Ov ajufXEi yj rot Hal oi notrjral /.leXoTtoiol XeyovTcxi, Hal rd 'QjiiTJpov sv:?/ rd TtdXat Ttpoi Xvpav ijoero. "Tbe voice," oljserves Ileeren, "was always accompanied by some in.strument. Tbe bard was provided with a barp, on wbicli be played a prelude, to elevate and inspire bis mind, and with wbicb be accompanied tbe song wben begun. His voice probably preserved a medium bc^twecn singing and recitation: tbe words, and not tbe mtdody, were regarded Ijy tbe listeners; bence it was necessary for biin to remain intcliigil)le to all. In countries wbere notbing similar is found, it is dillicult to represent siicb scenes to tbe mind: l)ut wboever bas bad an opportunity of listen- ing to tbe improvisatori of Italy, can easily form an idea of Demo- docusand I'li'-mius."— /incie/t< Greece, p. ill. 10 INTRODUCriON. a poplar grew, which they said had sprung up ever since Melosigenes arrived."* But poverty still drove him on, and he went by way of Larissa, as being the most convenient road. Here, the Cunians say, he composed an epitaph on Gordius, king of Phrygia, which has, however, and with greater probability, been attributed to Cleobulus of Lindus.f Arrived at Cumae, he frequented the converzationesX of the old men, and delighted all by the charms of his poetry. Encouraged by this favorable reception, he declared that, if they would allow him a public main- tenance, he would render tlieir city most gloriously re- newed. They avowed their willingness to support him in the measure he proposed, and procured him an audi- ence in the council. Having made the speech, with the purport of which our author has forgotten to ac- quaint us, he retii-ed, and left them to debate respect- ing tlie answer to be given to his proposal. The greater part of the assembly seemed favorable to the poet's demand, but one man observed that '"if they were to feed Homers, they would be encumbered with a multitude of useless people." "From this circum- stance," says the writer, "Melesigenes acquired the name of Homer, for the Cumans call blind men Ho- mers.'" % With a love of economy, which shows how *" Should it not be, since my arrival ?" asks Mackenzie, ob- serving that, " poplars can hardly live so long." But, setting aside the fact that we must not expect consistency in a mere romance, the ancients had a superstitious belief in the great age of trees which grew near places consecrated by the presence of gods and great men. See Cicero de Legg. ii. i, sub init., where he speaks of the plane tree under which Socrates used to walk, and of the tree at Delos, where Latona gave birth to Apollo. This passage is referred to by Stephanas of Byzantium, s. «. N. T. p. 490, ed. de Pinedo. I omit quoting any of the dull epigrams ascribed to Homer, for, as Mr. Justice Talfourd rightly observes, " The authenticity of these fragments depends upon that of the pseudo-Herodotean Life of Homer, from which they are taken." Lit. of Greece, pp. 38, in Encyl. Metrop. Cf. Coleridge, Classic Poets, p. 317. f It is quoted as the work of Cleobulus, by Diogenes Laert. Vit. Cleob. p. 62, ed. Casaub. XI trust I am justified in employing this as an equivalent for the Greek Xe6xai. %'fLi £1 rovi'OjuTjpov; (5d?ez rpsqpsiv avroK, outXov itoWov rEKalax(iE6ivjiov6iv,ivTEv