UC-NRLF 
 
 B ^ D3M Mfi2 
 
HOMER: 
 
 AX INTRODUCTION TO THE ILIAD 
 
 AND THE ODVSSEV. 
 
PUBLISHED BY 
 
 JAMES MACLEHOSE AND SONS, GLASGOW 
 jaublislurs to lite ©nsbevsitg. 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDOX. 
 Londo7t, - - - Siinpkt7t, Hatniiton and Co 
 Cavibridge, • - Maamilan and Bozves. 
 Edinburgh, - - Douglas and Fouiis. 
 
HOMER 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE ILIAD 
 AND THE ODYSSEY 
 
 BY 
 
 R. C. JEBB, LiTT.D. 
 
 REGIUS PROFESSOR OF GREEK AND FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, 
 
 CAMBRIDGE, AND M.P. FOR THE UNIVERSITY : HON. D.C.L. 
 
 OXON. : HON. LL.D. HARVARD, EDINBURGH, GLASGOW 
 
 AND DUBLIN: HON. DOCT. PHILOS. BOLOGNA. 
 
 <S£bcnth ®J)itirrtt. 
 
 GLASGOW: 
 JAMES MACLEHOSE AND SONS, 
 
 publishers to tlje 3Enibersitg. 
 1905 
 
Glasgow: printkd at the university press 
 by robert maclehose and co. ltd. 
 
JV 
 
 1^05 
 
 PREFACE. fAnlN 
 
 The purpose of this book is to furnish, in a 
 compact form, a general introduction to the study of 
 Homer. 
 
 The four chapters into which it is divided deal 
 respectively with four aspects of the subject: — (i) 
 The general character of the Homeric poems, and 
 their place in the history of literature : (2) their 
 historical value, as illustrating an early period of 
 Hellenic life : (3) their influence in the ancient world, 
 and the criticism bestowed on them in antiquity : 
 (4) the modern inquiry into their origin. 
 
 So far as I am aware, there is no one book, 
 English or foreign, which collects the principal results 
 of modern study in each of these departments. 
 
 Mr Monro, the Provost of Oriel, v/as kind enough 
 to read a considerable part of these pages, while they 
 were still in an unfinished state, and to give me the 
 benefit of his opinion on several points. Professor 
 
 o o i 1 a 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 Seymour, of Yale, during a visit to England last 
 summer, gave me a signal proof of friendship in the 
 care with which he went through the book, — then 
 nearly completed, — and the kindness with which he 
 permitted me to profit by some suggestions. 
 
 My thanks are also due to Professor Butcher, 
 the Rev. M. A. Bayfield, Mr Sidney Colvin, and 
 Mr Walter Leaf, for various tokens of kind interest 
 in this work. 
 
 R. C. JEBB. 
 
 The College, Glasgow, 
 December, 1886. 
 
 Note to tJie Second Edition. 
 
 The first edition, published in January, 1887, was 
 exhausted in February. The present edition is sub- 
 stantially identical with the first, while on a few points 
 of detail it has profited by some criticisms with which 
 I have been favoured. 
 
 R. C. J. 
 
 March, 18S7 
 
/ 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 GENERAL LITERARY CHARACTERISTICS OF 
 THE POEMS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 'i. Homeric Poems — their twofold interest . . . . i 
 
 2. Pre-Homeric poetry I 
 
 /s- Epic poetry 3 
 
 4. Aristotle on Homer 4 -^ 
 
 Structure of the Iliad 5 
 
 /6. Structure of the Odyssey 8 
 
 ,y7. Homeric poetry — its general stamp . . . , .12 
 
 8. Relation to ballad poetry \i 
 
 9. Relation to the literary epic 16 
 
 J\o. Dryden and Addison on Homer. — The Wolhans . . , 18 — 
 
 II. Hcmer and Walter Scott 19 
 
 \/ 12*=- The Homeric characters 23 
 
 \Ji3. Their typical value 24 
 
 \J\4f' Their expression in speech, or in thought . , '25 
 
 1^15. Divine and human action 26 
 
 V16. Homeric use of simile 26 
 
 -/17. Why simile is rarer in the C?i/;/jjt7 29 
 
 18. Range of the similes 30 
 
 19. Aggregation of similes — how used by Homer ... 31 
 
 20. The twenty-second book of the Iliad 32 
 
 J 21. Concluding remarks 36 
 
 i 
 
via CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE HOMERIC WORLD. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 n. The Hellenic type already mature. — Unity of the picture . 38 
 
 vJ2. Homeric geography, 'inner' and 'outer' .... 39 
 
 3. Iliad. Inner geography. Outer geography ... 39 
 
 4. The 'Catalogue' — a document apart 41 
 
 5. Traces of personal knowledge ...... 43 
 
 v/6, 7. Odyssey. Inner geography. Outer geography . . .44 
 
 8. Homeric polity 46 
 
 9- King 47 
 
 10. Dike and themis. Council. Agora 48 
 
 11. Difference between Iliad and Odyssey as pictures of polity . 49 
 J\.2. Homeric religion j^5o 
 
 13. P'ate. Erinyes 51 
 
 14. Difference between Iliad zx\d. Odyssey as to the supernatural 52 
 
 Jx^. Homeric ethics. The family 53 
 
 >/i6. Slavery 54 
 
 17. The greater family. — Aidos. Nemesis .... 54 
 
 ^18. The Homeric civilisation "55 
 
 J 19. Archaeological evidence ^■. .56 
 
 •^ 20. Use of stone . 56 
 
 vj2i. The Homeric house. The court 57 
 
 22. The aethusa and prodomus 57 
 
 23. The megaron ......... 59 
 
 24. Women's apartments. Analogy to later Greek house . . 60 
 
 25. Interior fittings and decoration, etc 61 
 
 nJ 26. Social manners 62 
 
 i 27. Homeric dress 64 
 
 '28. Homeric armour . ........ 65 
 
 ^29. Homeric art d^ 
 
 ' 30. (^ Shield of Achilles. Other works 67 
 
 31. Standards of value. Writing. Craftsmen. Merchants . 69 
 
 32. Life in the similes. Scenes on the Shield .... 70 
 
 J 33. Funeral rites 71 
 
 \..34. The state of the dead 71 
 
CONTENTS. IX 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 \l. Influence of the Homeric poems 74 
 
 2. Minstrelsy in Homer. Iliad. Odyssey • ' > * 7S 
 
 3, 4. Post-Homeric recitation. Rhapsodes .... 76 
 
 5. Homeridae 78 
 
 6. The rhapsode in the fourth century b.c 78 
 
 /•J. Was Homer ever sung ? The rhapsode as commentator . 80 
 
 ^, 9, 10. Homer in education 81 
 
 ii, 12. Homer's influence on Greek rehgion .... 83 
 
 i^. Greek view of Homer as a historian 84 
 
 14. Poems ascribed to Homer in antiquity . . . '85 
 r5. Notices of Homer's life. Earliest traces. A shadowy per- 
 sonality 87 
 
 si 16. Allegorizing interpretation . . . . . . .89 
 
 \f'i'j. Rhetorical treatment .90 
 
 A 8. Rationalising criticism 90 
 
 ('19. Alexandrian materials for Homeric criticism. The ancient 
 
 vulgate ......... 91 
 
 20. Zenodotus 92 
 
 21. Aristophanes 93 
 
 22. Aristarchus '93 
 
 • 23. Characteristics of his work 94 
 
 24. Didymus. Aristonicus. Herodian. Nicanor ... 96 
 
 25. The Epitome. Codex Venetus A . . . . .96 
 
 26. The division into books 97 
 
 27. Crates and the Pergamene School 98 
 
 28. Demetrius. Eustathius 100 
 
 29. Scholia 100 
 
 30. Our text of Homer 10 r 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE HOMERIC QUESTION. ^ 
 
 1. The Chorizontes . . . • . . . ... 103 
 
 2. The modern Homeric question ...... 104 
 
 3, 4. Surmises before Wolf 105 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 5- 
 6. 
 
 7, ' 
 
 9- 
 
 lO. 
 
 II. 
 yi2. 
 
 '3- 
 14. 
 
 '5- 
 16. 
 
 17- 
 18, 
 20. 
 21, 
 24, 
 26- 
 34- 
 35. 
 36. 
 ^37. 
 39- 
 40. 
 41. 
 42. 
 
 43. 
 46. 
 
 47, 
 49. 
 
 50- 
 
 52. 
 
 53- 
 
 54. 
 55- 
 56. 
 
 57. 
 58. 
 
 59- 
 60. 
 61. 
 62. 
 
 Vico. Robert Wood . 
 Wolf's Prolegofnetia 
 
 B. Wolf recognised a personal Homer 
 Objections to Wolf's view of writing 
 Summary ..... 
 The story about Peisistratus 
 'Nature' and 'art' 
 Elasticity of Wolf's theory. Developments 
 
 Lachmann 
 
 Hermann 
 
 Reaction. The epopee view. Nitzsch 
 Grote's 'Achilleid ' . . . 
 
 19. Estimate of Grote's theory 
 Geddes 
 
 22, 23. W. Christ 
 
 25. Texture of the 6>^/>'jj-^_y. Kirchhoff 
 
 -33. Analogy of other early epics 
 Homeric language 
 Traditional epic element 
 False archaisms .... 
 
 38. Differences between Iliad and Odyssey 
 Lost sounds. The digamma 
 Inconstant use of the digamma in Homer 
 Supposed errors of transliteration 
 Fick's theory .... 
 
 44, 45. Estimate of it . 
 The tale of Troy — how far historical 
 
 48. Site of Homeric Troy . 
 Origin of the Homeric picture of Troy 
 The Epic Cycle .... 
 Analysis of the Trojan Cycle 
 Summary 
 
 of 
 
 bject 
 
 General survey of results. Views which may be rejected 
 
 Deceptive unity of the epic style 
 
 Conservative tendency of recent studies 
 
 The primary poem. Special advantages of the su 
 
 The poem was an ' Iliad ' from the first 
 
 Enlargement of the primary Iliad. Books 2 to 
 
 Books 12 to 15 
 
 Books 8 and 9 
 
 Books 23 and 24 
 
 Book 10. The greater interpolations . 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XI 
 
 6^' Summary. — Age and origin of the primary //?Vr^ 
 
 64. Arguments for the European origin. — Two strata of 
 
 tradition ..... 
 
 6^. Estimate of this argument 
 
 66. The argument from Homeric silence 
 
 67. Inference — early fixity of form in the Iliad 
 
 68. The primary //zW — perhaps Thessalian. — The 
 
 afterwards lonicised 
 
 69. Ancient belief in an Asiatic Homer 
 
 70. The European claim can be reconciled with the Asiatic 
 
 71. Authorship of the earlier enlargements . 
 
 72. Predominant significance of the first poet 
 J73. Origin of the Odyssey .... 
 
 74. Ionian development of the poem 
 
 75. Authorship ...... 
 
 76. Relations with the Iliad. Age 
 
 77. Conclusion ...... 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Note I, p. 61. The house at Tiryns (with plan) . . -175 
 
 Note 2, p. 136. Differences between Homeric and later 
 
 classical Greek . . . . . . . . .186 
 
 Note 3, p. 139. Differences of language between \he Iliad 
 
 and the Odyssey 188 
 
 Note 4, p. 140. Homeric words which show traces of the 
 
 digamma 189 
 
 Note 5. Homeric versification 191 
 
 A list of books on Homer . 198 
 
HOMER, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 General Literary Characteristics of the Poems. 
 
 1. The literature of Greece, and of Europe, begins with Homeric 
 1 lomer, whose name will be used here to denote ' the E^their 
 Iliad and the Odyssey^ without implying that one man twofold 
 composed the whole of both or of either. The interest of 
 Homer is twofold, poetical and historic al. He is the 
 greatest epic poet of the world, and the only representative 
 
 of the earliest artistic form which the Greek mind gave to 
 its work. He is also the first author who presents any clear 
 or vivid picture of Aryan civilisation. An entire period of 
 early Hellenic life which, but for him, would be almost 
 a blank, is seen to be connected by an unbroken course 
 of development with the later Hellenic age. 
 
 2. The Homeric poems themselves attest a pre-Homeric Pre-Ho 
 poetry. They are the creations of a matured art. But ^^^^^ 
 the earlier and ruder essays of that art have left few 
 traces. The little that is known can be briefly summed up, 
 
 so far as it directly concerns the study of Greek literature. 
 
 (i) The Greeks had old folk-songs on the death of (i) Songs 
 a beautiful youth, — Linus, Hylas, lalemus, Hyacinthus, ggasons 
 Adonis, — i.e. on the spring yielding to summer, the summer 
 
 J- f 
 
C , , , . t, ,, , , , , 'ftpMER. [CH. I. 
 
 to autumn, or t^'e'liVe. ' In the Iliad {he 'Linos' is a solo 
 sung by a youth to the lyre at a vintage festival, among the 
 maidens and youths who carry the baskets of grapes, and 
 who dance in time to the song (//. i8. 569) \ The origin 
 of such songs was Semitic. But they suited that early 
 phase of the Aryan mind in which religion was chiefly 
 a sense of divinity in the forces of outward Nature, and 
 which, in India, is represented by the Vedic hymns. A 
 distinctively Greek element began early to show itself in 
 the numerous local legends as to the personal relationships 
 of the youth who had perished. 
 {2) Le- (2) A later stage than that in which the Linus-song 
 
 bard^^^ originated is represented by the legends of the earliest 
 (a)Thra- Greek bards, {a) Some of these are called 'Thracian,' and 
 cian are associated with the worship of ' the Muses ' — the god- 
 S^oup- desses of memory, or record, a vvorship which can be traced 
 as spreading from the northern coasts of the Aegean to 
 the district Pieria at the n.e. corner of Thessaly, and 
 thence southwards to the Boeotian Helicon and the Phocian 
 ^^) South- Parnassus, {b) Other prehistoric bards are specially asso- 
 ciated with hymns to Apollo, — indicating a stream of 
 influence which passed from Asia, through Crete and other 
 \c) Asia- Aegean islands, to Greece Proper, {c) A third group 
 lie group. q£ g^j.}^, bards is connected with Asia Minor, especially 
 
 ^ These Nature-songs were brought from the East to Greece, and 
 then, in Greek fashion, were linked with local myths. The song of 
 Linos probably came from Phrygia through Thrace, and was specially 
 localised at Argos. Sappho used the form OItoKlvos, which, ace. to 
 Paus. 9. 29. 8, she derived from very ancient hymns, ascribed to 
 the Athenian Pamphos. Herodotus (2. 79) identifies Li7tos with the 
 Egyptian prince Maneros, { = i)ia-n-hra, 'come to me', the refrain of a 
 song in which Isis was represented as mourning Osiris) : and says that 
 the song {aet(r/ia) 'Linos' was famous in Cyprus, Phoenicia, and else- 
 where. '■Linos'' came from atXcpov, ai lenu, 'woe for us', the refrain 
 of the Phoenician mourners in Syria and Cyprus for Thavimuz (Ezek. 
 Wii. 14), the Greek Adonis. Similar conceptions were the Lydian and 
 Phrygian Attes or Atys, the Bithynian Bormos, the Mysian Hylas, the 
 Lacedaemonian ffyacinthos, the Arcadian Skephros {aK€<ppos = ^7]p6s), 
 the Thracian lalemos. 
 
 ern 
 group 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 3 
 
 Phrygia, and with Asiatic worship, such as that of Cybele'. 
 Taken collectively, these sparse and vague traditions have a 
 clear general meaning. They point to an age when the 
 Hellenic tribes were still in passage from Asia to Europe. General 
 They show that a cultivation of poetry, — partly Pre-Hellenic ^^^^ *"* 
 in its religious motive, but already Hellenic in its form, — 
 had begun before the Hellenic populations had settled 
 down in their European seats. 
 
 (3) Lastly, Homer himself mentions those heroic lays (3)Forms 
 (KXea avSpcoi/) out of which Epic poetry grew ; also the ^e^^t^on- 
 hyme7iaeus, or marriage-chant, and the thrhius, or dirge, — ed by 
 both, in Homer's time, already secular, and sung by the o"^^'^- 
 people, — no longer, as in ancient India, parts of a ritual, to 
 be sung by priests. 
 
 3. Down to about 700 B.C. the kind of poetry which Epic 
 we call ' Epic ' ^ was the only literature which the Greeks P°^ ^' 
 possessed. The idea of 'epic' poetry, as a species, could 
 not exist until Myric' (or, as the Greeks said, 'melic') had 
 taken a distinct form. Then, later still, came 'dramatic' 
 poetry. ' Epic poetry,' as the Greeks of the fourth centuiy 
 . B.C. understood it, was defined by its differences from 
 Myric' and 'dramatic' As distinguished from 'lyric,' it 
 meant poetry which was recited, not sung to music. As 
 
 ^ {a) To the Tnracian group belong, among others, Orpheus (=the 
 Indian Ribhu, — the Ribhus figuring in the Indian hymns as great 
 artificers, the first men who were made immortal), — Musaeus, Eumolpus, 
 Thamyris ; {b) to the Southern group, Olen of Lycia, Chrysothemis of 
 Crete, Philam?7ion of Delphi, Pamphos of Attica, — makers of hymns to 
 Apollo, Demeter, etc. ; (c) to the Asiatic group, Olympus, the pupil of 
 Marsyas, and Hyagnis, who made hymns to Cybele. These were 
 merely so many names of ancient but vague prestige, to which later 
 composers attached their own work, — being in the old hymn-literature 
 what the Boeotian Bakis was in the traditional oracular lore. 
 
 - Aristotle never uses the word e7rt/c6s, which seems not to occur 
 
 before the later Alexandrian age. He calls Epic Poetry 77 eiroiroua, or 
 
 (as contrasted with drama), ^ diTjyijfj.ariK'^ Kat eu fiirpip /xLfnjTiKy {Poet. 
 
 ' 23), i.e. narrative poetry which imitates by means of verse only (without 
 
 help from to Trparrreiv). 
 
 I 2 
 
4 HOMER. [CH. i. 
 
 distinguished from ' dramatic,' it meant poetry which merely 
 nar rated . It is well to begin by observing the broad 
 diaracceristics which Homer presents to the mind of 
 Aristotle. 
 Aristotle \4. Aristotle's conception of an epic poem demand s, first , 
 mer. °' ^hatJt^^shaijQd have a dignifi^^^^ next, tha tit sfio uld 
 
 form a n organ icwhole, — i.e., it must have unit)^ ; and, with- 
 in this unity, there must be an ordered'^ogress. The 
 events must form a connected series, and must "conduce to 
 a common end. Thus the unity proper to an epic is not 
 merely such unity as a history may owe to the fact that all 
 the events which it relates are comprised in a certain period 
 of time. The Iliad does not treat the whole Trojan War, 
 but a part of it, diversifying this by episodes. The Odyssey 
 does not attempt to relate everything that ever happened 
 to Odysseus. The superiority of Homer's judgment in this 
 respect, as compared with that of some other epic poets, 
 may be illustrated (Aristotle remarks) by a dramatic test. 
 The Iliad and the Odyssey would not furnish more than one 
 tragedy apiece, or two at the most. But no fewer than 
 eight dramas had been carved out of the '■Little Iliad,^ — 
 an epic chronicle of the events from the death of Achilles 
 to the fall of Troy. The special merits for which 
 Aristotle praises Homer are chiefly the following\--^(i) 
 Homer combines unity with variety^: (2) he is excellent 
 both in diction and in sentiment : (3) he keeps himself 
 in the background,— telling his story as much as possible 
 by the actions and words of the persons themselves, and 
 marking their characters well : (4) he is artistic in fiction — 
 boldly using the improbable or supernatural element, — for 
 which epic poetry gives more scope than drama, — but 
 
 1 1 1 is an inherent defect of an epic, as compared with a tragedy, 
 (Aristotle remarks,) that it must have less unity. If the epic poet's 
 theme is strictly one, his poem will appear either curt or spun-out 
 (yu.i;oupos — vdap-qs). Homer has overcome this difficulty as far as possible: 
 ravra to. iroirjfJiaTa avvecTTTjKev ws evdex'^TO-i- apiara, Kai 6 n /aaXiaTa /xtds 
 Trpa^ews fMt/xrjais i(TTL {Poet. 26). 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 5 
 
 with a charm so skilful that the illusion is not broken' 
 Aristotle's remarks on Homer bring out the singularity 
 in the history of Greek poetry, that it begins with master- 
 pieces. He regards Homer as at once the earliest of poets 
 and the most finished of epic artists^ This estimate is 
 subject, indeed, to one qualification. Aristotle apparently 
 regarded the length of the Homeric epics as somewhat too 
 great for the ideal of epic symmetry ^ 
 
 At the outset it is necessary that the reader should have 
 clearly before his mind the general type of structure exhi- 
 bited by each of the two epics. The subjoined sketch 
 will serve to show this, while in details it will be found 
 convenient for subsequent reference. "y^ 
 
 5. The Iliad owes its unity, not to the person of Structure 
 Achilles,biit to his wrath. His withdrawal from the Greek host j^^^^ 
 leaves Greek heroism more nearly on a level with Trojan, 
 and so admits of the battle-scenes which describe a doubtful 
 war. Hence the framework of the poem is necessarily elastic. 
 As a help to the memory, the story of the Iliad may be 
 
 ^ Poet. 24 dedidaxe 5^ fji,aXiaTa"Ofjir]pos kuI tovs dWovs xpedbeiv ('to 
 feign') ws 5e?. Aristotle instances tcL iv 'Odvaaeig, dXoya to. irepl ttju 
 iKdeatv, — the account of the landing of Odysseus in Ithaca, — where the 
 Homeric charm disguises the improbability {tols d'XXois 0,70^0?? dcpavi^ei 
 
 ■f)5vPWV TO CLTOTTOV). 
 
 " After mentioning the several requirements of epic poetry, he says — 
 ots airaaLv"Oix7}pos KexpW^'- i^^'- Trpwros Kal LKavm [Poet, 24). 
 
 ^ Poet. c. 24, with Twining's note (vol. II. p. 331). The limit of 
 due length for an epic is that it should be possible for us to * comprehend 
 the beginning and the end in one view.' This means, to read, or hear, 
 the whole epic, without discomfort, in one day, — as is shown by the 
 comparison with 'tragedies set for one hearing.' And, for this purpose, 
 the epic should be 'shorter than the ancient' epics, — a phrase which 
 must include Homer. (The Iliad contains 15,693 lines; the Odyssey, 
 12, 1 10.) I do not know whether it has been pointed out how 
 interesting is this indication of Aristotle's feeling, in relation to the 
 modern view that the epics have grown by additions beyond their 
 first design. Surmising nothing of the kind, and profoundly admiring 
 Homer, the Greek critic yet cannot altogether disguise the offence to 
 his sense of measure. 
 
6 HOMER. [CH. I. 
 
 divided into three parts. The first ends with book ix., 
 when the Greeks sue to Achilles, and are repulsed. The 
 second ends with book xviii., the last in which he remains 
 aloof from the war. 
 
 The asterisks denote those books in which Achilles 
 himself appears. The Greek titles of the books, given in 
 brackets, have come down from the Alexandrian age. 
 
 *I. (A. Aoifios. Myjvis.) In the tenth year of the war, Apollo 
 plagues the Greeks, because the daughter of Chryses, his priest, has 
 been taken by Agamemnon ; who, being required to restore her, 
 wrongs Achilles by depriving him of his captive, the maiden Brise'is. 
 Thereupon Achilles retires from the war, and Zeus swears to Thetis, 
 the hero's mother, that the Greeks shall rue this wrong done to her son. 
 
 II. (B. "Oveipos. BoKxrria rj Karakoyoi twv veQiv.) Zeus sends the 
 Dream-god to the sleeping Agamemnon, and beguiles him to marshal 
 all his host for battle. An assembly of the Greek army shows that the 
 general voice is for going back to Greece — but at last the army is 
 rallied. — Catalogue of the Greek and Trojan forces (vv. 484 — 877). 
 
 III. (r. "0/3/cot. Teixocr/coTTia. IlctptSos Kai MeveKaov fiofo/xaxt'a.) 
 The Trojan Paris having challenged the Greek Menelaus to decide the 
 war by single combat, a truce is made between the armies. Helen and 
 Priam survey the Greek host from the walls of Troy. In the single 
 combat, Aphrodite saves Paris. 
 
 IV. (A. 'Opdwv avyxvcri-s. 'AyafX^/Muoi^os eTniruiKrjais.) The Trojan 
 Pandarus breaks the truce. Agamemnon marshals the Greek host. 
 The armies join battle. 
 
 V. (E. Aio^TjSoL's dptaTela.) The prowess ot the Greek Diomede; 
 who makes great slaughter of the Trojans, and, helped by Athene, 
 wounds even Aphrodite and Ares. 
 
 ■ VI. (Z. "E/cTopos /cat 'AvdpopLaxv^ SpuXla.) Diomede and the Lycian 
 Glaucus (a Trojan ally) are about to fight, when they recognise each 
 other as hereditary guest-friends, and part in amity. — Hector goes from 
 the battle to Troy, and before sallying out again, bids farewell to his wife 
 Andromache. 
 
 VII. (H. "EKTopos KalAiavTos /Jiouofxaxi'O.. A^eKpuwauaipecrLS.) Single 
 combat of Hector and Ajax. Burying of the dead. The Greeks build 
 a wall to protect their camp by the Hellespont. 
 
 VIII. (0. Ko'Xos fjuixv — 'the interrupted fight' — broken off by the 
 gods at V. 485.) Zeus, on Olympus, commands the gods to help neither 
 side; and then, going down to Ida, gives the Trojans the advantage 
 over the Greeks. At Hector's instance the Trojans biv ouac on the 
 battle-field. "^ ' 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 7 
 
 — *IX. (I. UpecrlSeia rrpbs 'AxiXX^a. Altu'l.) Agamemnon sends 
 envoys (Odysseus, Ajax, Phoenix) by night to Achilles, offering to 
 restore Briseis and to make amends; but Achilles rejects the 
 offer. 
 
 •-X. (K. A6\u}U€i.a.) Odysseus and Diomede, going by night to- 
 wards the Trojan camp, slay Dolon, a Trojan spy; then they slay the 
 sleeping Rhesus, chief of the Thracians, and take his horses. 
 
 *XI. (A. 'Aya/x4/j.vovos dpLarda.) Agamemnon does great deeds, 
 but in vain; many of the leading Greek chiefs are disabled; and 
 Patroclus, sent by Achilles to ask about the wounded physician 
 Machaon, learns that the plight of the Greeks is desperate. 
 
 - XII. (M. TeLxoixaxia.) The Trojans, led by Hector, break 
 through the wall of the Greek camp. 
 
 "XIII. (N. MaxT? ^ttI rats vavalv.) Zeus having turned his eyes 
 for a while away from the Trojan plain, the sea-god Poseidon, watching 
 from the peak of Samothrace, seizes the moment to encourage the 
 Greeks. The Cretan Idomeneus does great deeds. 
 
 XIV. (S. Atos airaTfj-^i.e. the trick played on Zeus.) The Sleep- 
 god, and Hera, lull Zeus to slumber on Ida. Poseidon urges on the 
 Greeks, and the Trojan Hector is wounded. 
 
 XV. (0. IlaXiw^ij -rrapa, tQiv veQiv — not a correct title, for the 
 Trojans are not routed.) Zeus awakens on Ida. At his bidding, 
 Apollo puts new strength into Hector. The Trojan host presses again 
 on the Greek ships : Ajax valorously defends them. 
 
 *XVI. (n. HarpoKKeLa.) Patroclus intercedes for the Greeks 
 with Achilles ; who lends him his armour. In the guise of his friend, 
 Patroclus takes the field, and drives the Trojans from the ships; and at 
 last is slain by Hector. 
 
 XVII. (P. MeveKaov dpiareia.) The Greeks and Trojans con- 
 tend for the corpse of Patroclus. Menelaus does great deeds. 
 
 *XVIII. (S. 'OTrXoiroua.) Achilles learns the death of Patroclus, 
 and makes moan for him ; at the sound whereof, Thetis rises from the 
 sea, and comes to her son. She persuades the god of fire, Hephaestus, 
 to make new armour for Achilles. The shield wrought by Hephaestus 
 is described. 
 
 *XIX. (T. Mtjvloos diroppTjcns.) Achilles renounces his wrath. 
 He is reconciled to Agamemnon before the assembly of the Greek 
 host. He makes ready to go forth to war with them; the horses are 
 yoked to his chariot; when the horse Xanthus speaks with human 
 voice, and foretells the doom of Achilles. 
 
 *XX. (T. Qeofxaxi^a.) The gods come down from Olympus to 
 join in the fight on the Trojan plain — some with the Greeks, some with 
 the Trojans. Achilles fights with Aeneas, who is saved by Poseidon ; 
 and with Hector, who is saved by Apollo. 
 
8 HOMER. [CH. 1 
 
 *XXI. (<l>. Mdx'7 TrapairoTd/jiLos.) The River-god Scamander 
 fights with Achilles, who is saved by Hephaestus. 
 
 *XXII. (X. "EKTopos dvaipeffLS.) Achilles fights with Hector, and 
 chases him thrice round the walls of Troy. Zeus weighs in golden 
 scales the lots of Achilles and Hector. Hector is doomed to die: 
 Apollo deserts him, while Athene encourages Achilles. Achilles slays 
 Hector. 
 
 *XXni. (^. ^M\a iirl HarpoKXy.) The spirit of Patroclus 
 appears to Achilles, and craves burial for the corpse : which is burned 
 on a great pyre, with slaying of many victims : twelve Trojan captives 
 are slain, and cast on the pyre. Games follow, in honour of the 
 funeral. 
 
 *XXIV. (O. "E/cropos Xvrpa.) As Achilles daily drags the corpse 
 of Hector round the barrow of Patroclus, Apollo pleads with the gods, 
 and Zeus stirs up Priam to go and ransom the body of his son. The 
 god Hermes, in disguise, conducts the aged king across the plain; 
 Achilles receives him courteously, and accepts the ransom ; and Priam 
 goes back to Troy with the corpse of Hector, to be mourned and 
 buried. 
 
 Structure 6. The Odyssey owes its unity to the person of Odysseus, 
 Odys ey. ^-nd this unity is necessarily of a closer kind than exists in 
 the Iliad. The epic may conveniently be divided into 
 groups of four books, (i) i. — iv. The adventures of Tele- 
 machus. (2) v. — viii. The adventuffes*^ Odyss'^us, after 
 leaving Calypso's isle, till he reaches Phaeacia. (3) ix. — 
 XII. The previous adventures of Odysseus. (4) xiii. — xvi. 
 Odysseus at the hut of Eumaeus in Ithaca. (5) xvii. — 
 XX. The return of Odysseus to his house. (6) xxi. — 
 XXIV. The vengeance on the suitors, and the re-establish- 
 ment of Odysseus in his realm. 
 
 I. (a. Qeoou dyopd. 'Adrjuas irapalveaLS Trpos HryK^ixaxov.) It is 
 the tenth year since the fall of Troy. Odysseus is now detained by the 
 nymph Calypso in Ogygia, an isle of the far west; while his wife, 
 Penelope, in Ithaca, is beset by suitors, lawless men, who feast riotously 
 in the house, as though it wete their own. In the council of the gods, 
 Athene urges that Poseidon, the sea-god, has vexed Odysseus long 
 enough; and she herself goes to Ithaca, and stirs up Telemachus to go 
 in search of his father. 
 
 II. (jS. 'IdaKTj&ioji/ dyopd. TrjXefxdxov dTro5r]fxla). Telemachus 
 calls an assembly of the Ithacans, and appeals to them to protect his 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. <> 
 
 rights; but the suitors mock him, and nothing is done. Athene, 
 however, disguised as a chief named Mentor, gets him a ship, wherein 
 Telemachus, with the supposed Mentor, sails for Pylus in Elis. 
 
 III. (7. To iv IluXy.) Nestor, the old king of Pylus, receives 
 them hospitably. At the banquet, ' Mentor' vanishes, and Nestor per- 
 ceives that their guest has been the goddess Athene, to whom he pours 
 a drink-offering. Then Telemachus sets out for Sparta, with Nestor's 
 son, Peisistratus. 
 
 IV. (5. Ta ev KaKedalfiovL.) Menelaus, king of Sparta, receives 
 them, and his wife Helen knows Telemachus by his likeness to his 
 father. Having learned that his father is in Calypso's isle (Menelaus 
 had been told this by the seer Proteus in Egypt), Telemachus prepares 
 to return to Ithaca. Meanwhile Penelope hears of a plot by the suitors 
 to slay her son; but Athene comforts her in a dream. 
 
 V. (e. KaXyi/'oGs avrpov. 'Odvaffecds crxeSia.) The gods at last 
 send Hermes, and tell Calypso to let Odysseus go; and she obeys. 
 Odysseus builds himself a flat-bottomed vessel (not simply what we 
 call 'a raft'), and puts to sea. On the i8th day his old enemy Poseidon 
 espies him, and wrecks him; but the sea-goddess Ino ( = Leucothea) 
 gives him a veil which buoys him up, and at last he comes ashore at 
 the mouth of a river in Scheria, the land of a great sea-faring folk, the 
 Phaeacians. 
 
 VI. (f. 'Odvjaicos d<pi^is els <l>ata/cas.) Nausicaa, daughter of the 
 Phaeacian king Alcinous, comes down to the river with her handmaids, 
 to wash linen ; and having done this, they play at ball. Their voices 
 awake the sleeping Odysseus; he entreats their pity; and Nausicaa 
 shows him the way to her father's city. 
 
 VII. {tj. 'Odvcra^ws ecaodos irpos 'AXklvovv.) King Alcinous and 
 his queen, Arete, receive Odysseus in their splendid palace, and he 
 tells his adventures since he left Calypso's isle. 
 
 VIII. (9. '08v(Taici3$ avaraaLS irpos ^aiuKas.) Alcinous calls an 
 assembly of the Phaeacians, and it is resolved that the stranger shall 
 have a ship to take him home. Games are held. Then at a feast 
 given by the king, the minstrel Demodocus sings of Troy : the stranger 
 weeps ; and the king presses him to tell his story. 
 
 [Books IX. — XII. were called collectively 'AXkLuov dwoXoyoL, the 
 'narratives to Alcinous'.] 
 
 IX. (t. KuKXwTreta.) Odysseus tells how, on leaving Troy, he 
 came to the Cicones (in Thrace) ; afterwards to the Lotus-eaters ; and 
 then to the land of the Cyclopes, where he put out the one eye 
 of Polyphemus. 
 
 X. (k. Td Trept AldXov /cat AaLaTpvyducvv koI KlpKrjs.) His ad- 
 ventures with the wind-god Aeolus; with the Laestrygonians ; and 
 with the enchantress Circe. 
 
lO HOMER. [CH. I, 
 
 XI. (X. Xe'/futa.) How he went down to Hades, the place of the 
 dead, and spoke with many spirits of the departed. 
 
 XII. {fx. lleLprjues, S/ci;XXa, Xdpv^dis, ^6es 'RXiov.) His ad- 
 ventures with the Seirens, and Scylla and Charybdis; and how his 
 comrades ate the sacred oxen of the sun in tlie isle Thrinacria ; wherefore 
 they all perished at sea, and he came alone to Calypso's isle, Ogygia. 
 
 XIII. {u. 'Odvffcricjs dvaTrXovs irapd ^aiaKOiv Kal a0t^is e^s 'IdaK-qv. ) 
 The Phaeacians take Odysseus back to Ithaca; and, as they are re- 
 turning, Poseidon turns their ship to stone. Athene appears to Odysseus 
 in Ithaca; changes him into the likeness of an old beggar-man; and 
 counsels him how he shall slay the suitors. 
 
 XIV. (^. '05i;cr(Teajs irpos Eii/xaiop ofiiXia.) Odysseus converses 
 with his old swine-herd Eumaeus, who knows him not. 
 
 XV. (o. TrjXe/idxou Trpos EiJaaiov a0t|is.) Telemachus returns to 
 Ilhaca, and seeks the dwelling of Eumaeus. 
 
 XVI. (tt. ' AvayvojpLCTfxos 'Oducra^ojs vtto Tr]\€fji.a.xov.) Odysseus, 
 temporarily restored to his proper form by Athene (cp. xiii.), reveals 
 himself to his son. They concert a plan for slaying the suitors. 
 
 XVII. {p. TrjXefLdxou eirdvodos els 'IdaKrjv — i.e. to the town: he 
 has been in the isle since xv.) Telemachus goes to the town. He 
 keeps his father's return a secret from his mother, telling her only what 
 he had heard abroad. Odysseus — once more the old beggar-man — 
 comes to the house with Eumaeus; the dog Argos knows his disguised 
 master, and welcomes him, and dies. 
 
 XVIII. ((T. '05i'<r(r^ws Kal "Ipov Trvy/xT},) The disguised Odysseus 
 has a fight with Irus, a beggar living on the alms of the suitors; 
 who continue their revelry and insolence. 
 
 XIX. (t. '05v(Tcr^u'; KaillrjpeXoTrrjs 6fJiL\[a. Tdpiirrpa.) Penelope 
 speaks with the poor stranger, whom she knows not for her lord, 
 and tells him how she has baffled the suitors by delay. She promised 
 to make her choice as soon as she should have woven a web, and every 
 night she undid the day's weaving. Eurycleia, the old nurse, washes 
 the stranger's feet; by a scar she knows Odysseus; who charges her to 
 be secret. 
 
 XX. {v. Ta irpo TTJs /j.vT}aT7]po(povias.) Odysseus is troubled in 
 soul, as he lies awake in the porch of the house ; Athene appears and 
 comforts him. While the suitors are revelling, the seer Theoclymenus, 
 who has second-sight, foresees their doom in a dread vision: but they 
 heed him not. 
 
 XXI. {(p. To^ov deais.) Penelope proposes to the suitors that 
 they should try their skill with a bow which the hero Eurytus had once 
 given to Odysseus. Not one of them can even bend it; but the 
 stranger (Odysseus) strings it with ease, and sends an arrow through the 
 holes in twelve axe-heads, set up one behind another. 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. IS 
 
 XXII. (X' MvTjcrTTjpocpovia.) At that instant Odysseus casts off 
 his disguise; with his son, and two trusty followers, he falls on the 
 suitors in the palace-hall, and slays them: and the faithless serving- 
 maids of the house are hanged. 
 
 XXIII. {\Jy. 'Odvcraiojs iiTTO UrjpeXoTrrjs di^ayp(»}pi(yfji.6s.) The nurse 
 Eurycleia (cp. xix.) tells Penelope that Odysseus has come home; the 
 wife recognises her lord, and hears from him the sum of his wanderings. 
 Odysseus resolves to withdraw for a while to a farm some way from the 
 town, to see his aged father, Laertes. 
 
 XXIV. (w. ^iKvia devT^pa. STroi'SaL) The god Hermes leads 
 the shades of the suitors down to Hades. Odysseus finds Laertes 
 working in his garden, and reveals himself to his father. The Ithacans 
 bury the suitors, and, after debate, resolve to avenge them; but are 
 worsted by Odysseus and his following, and submit. Then the goddess 
 Athene makes peace and a solemn covenant between the king Odysseus 
 and his lieges in Ithaca. 
 
 Epics, like dramas, are classed by Aristotle as 'simple' 
 or 'complex.' The /had is 'simple' {dTrXrj), because its 
 action, like that of the Proinetheus Vinctus, has a plain and 
 direct course. The Odyssey is 'complex' {TrepLTveTrXeyixevr]), 
 because the plot is complicated by the disguises of Odysseus, 
 and the 'recognition,' like that in the Oedip2is Tyranfius, is 
 accompanied by a sudden reversal of the situation (Trept- 
 7reT€ta). Again, the Iliad is 'pathetic' {7raOr]TLKri), because 
 the mainspring of the hero's action throughout is passion, — 
 wrath against Agamemnon, grief for Patroclus, and a fierce 
 desire to avenge him. The Odyssey is 'ethic' ((qOiKrj)^ 
 because the character of the patient and resourceful hero is 
 displayed in action guided by reason ^ 
 
 1 Arist. Poef. 24. This view — that Aristotle's Trad-qTiK-q and -qdtKri 
 refer to the dominant tnotive of action in the two epics respectively — 
 has been lately developed by G. Giinther, Grwidziige der tragischen 
 Ktinst, pp. 538 — 543 (Leipsic, 1885). It seems the most probable. If 
 TiQiKTi meant merely, 'strong in portraiture of character,' it would apply 
 to the Iliad no less than to the Odyssey. And if iradrjTLKrj meant, 
 as Twining and others take it, 'disastrous,' — i.e. 'containing tragic 
 events,' — it would apply to the Odyssey — with its destruction of the 
 hero's comrades, and its slaughter of the suitors — hardly less than 
 to the Iliad. 
 
12 HOMER. [CH. I. 
 
 Homeric 7. The capital distinction of Homeric poetry is that it 
 >°^'^T -^^ ^^^ ^^^^ freshness and simpHcity of a primitive age, — all 
 ral the charm which we associate with the 'childhood of the 
 
 stamp, world'; while on the other hand it has completely surmounted 
 the rudeness of form, the struggle of thought with language, 
 the tendency to grotesque or ignoble modes of speech, the 
 incapacity for equable maintenance of a high level, which 
 belong to the primitive stage in literature^ This general 
 character is that which Mr Matthew Arnold defines, in his 
 excellent lectures on translating Homer, when he says that 
 Homer's style has four principal qualities ; it is rapid ; plain 
 in thought; plain in diction; and noble \ The English 
 reader will perhaps see this most clearly if he compares 
 Homer with our old ballads on the one hand, and, on the 
 other, with a form of poetry which shares, indeed, the name 
 and form of 'epic,' but is of an essentially different nature 
 from the Homeric, — namely, the literary epic, such as the 
 Ae7ieid or Paradise Lost. 
 Ivelation 8. Before instituting any comparison between the bal- 
 lad lads and Homer, we must guard ourselves by marking its 
 poetry, limit. The old English and Scottish ballads, such as those in 
 Percy's ' Reliques ' and other collections, belong to a much 
 ruder stage of poetical development than the Iliad and the 
 Odyssey. In Greek there are no remains of the stage pro- 
 perly corresponding to our ballads ; as in English, on the 
 other hand, we have no Homer. The ^ballad ' proper was 
 a narrative poem, while the 'song' was the vehicle of per- 
 sonal feeling ; and though the line was not rigidly drawn, 
 still the balladist, by tradition and instinct, confined himself, 
 as a rule, to simple narrative. The ' ballad ' and the 
 *song' were contemporary products, whereas the Greek epic 
 existed before Greece had any properly lyric poetry ; and 
 
 ^ He remarks that, as a translator of Homer, Cowper fails to be 
 rapid ; Pope, to be plain in diction ; and Chapman (imbued with the 
 ^conceits' of the Elizabethan age) to be plain in thought, — Homeric 
 though he is in so much, — 'plain-spoken, fresh, vigorous, to a certain 
 degree, rapid.' 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. I3 
 
 the Homeric epic, while it is mainly a narrative, is also 
 rich in the germs of the unborn lyric. Such are those 
 utterances of thought and sentiment concerning human 
 hfe, — utterances often so deeply suggestive and pathetic, — 
 which fall from the hps of the Homeric persons, and 
 which contribute to give the Homeric poems their profound 
 and universal human interest, — a moral and philosophic 
 significance, over and above their splendid pictures of 
 action. As a medium of poetry, the relatively poor and 
 narrow form in which the balladist worked cannot for an 
 instant be compared with Homer's spacious and various 
 epic. But we may illustrate certain Homeric quaHties by 
 inquiring how far they are, or are not, present in the 
 ballads. 
 
 We find, then, that the ballads share with Homer the Homeric 
 first three qualities named above ; they are rapid in move- f^^he^^ 
 ment- ; plain in thought ; and plain in diction. There are ballads. 
 moments, further, when to these three qualities they add 
 the fourth quality, — nobleness ; and it is then that they 
 become, in some degree, Homeric. Such moments usually 
 occur under one of two conditions ; viz., when the ballad 
 describes a crisis of warlike action, or when it describes 
 a vehement outburst of natural emotion. An example of 
 the first kind is the part of Chevy Chase where ' a squire 
 of Northumberland' warns the Percy's men that the Douglas 
 
 ' Leave off the brittling of the deer ! ' he said, — 
 ' And to your bows look ye take good heed t 
 
 * For sith ye were o' your mothers born 
 
 * Had ye never so mickle need.' 
 
 The doughty Douglas on a steed 
 
 He rode at his men beforne ; 
 His armour glitter'd as did a glede : 
 
 A bolder baron never was born. 
 
 *Tell me what men ye are,' he says,— 
 
 * Or whose men that ye be ! 
 
 * Who gave you leave to hunt in this 
 
 'Cheviot Chace in the spite of me?" 
 
14 HOMER. [CH. I. 
 
 That is rapid ; it is direct in thought and in language ; 
 further, it has a martial dignity of its own ; and, uniting 
 these quahties, it produces an effect on the mind somewhat 
 analogous to that which is produced b}^ the warlike scenes 
 of the Iliad. Consider, again, the description in the Iliad 
 of Achilles in his first passion of grief for the death of 
 Patroclus, — Antilochus having just brought the news : — 
 
 ' Thus spake he, and a black cloud of grief enwrapped Achilles, and 
 with both hands he took dark dust, and poured it over his head, and 
 defiled his comely face, and on his fragrant doublet black ashes fell, 
 and himself in the dust lay mighty and mightily fallen, and with his 
 own hands tore and marred his hair.' 
 
 In the ballad of 'Jamie Telfer,' Wat of Harden, a 
 chieftain of Teviotside, sees his son Willie killed before his 
 ■eyes in a Border foray. A chivalrous nature, in its first 
 agony of grief and anger, is portrayed here also. The stanzas 
 are ennobled by the intensity of natural pathos, and, despite 
 all difference of form, are thus far Homeric in spirit : — 
 
 But Willie was stricken ower the head. 
 And thro' the knapscap^ the sword has gane ; 
 
 And Harden grat for very rage, 
 
 When Willie on the ground lay slane. 
 
 But he's taen afif his gude steel cap, 
 
 And thrice he's waved it in the air; 
 The Dinlay snaws were ne'er mair white 
 
 Nor the lyart locks of Harden's hair. 
 •Revenge! Revenge!' auld Wat 'gan cry; 
 
 ' Fye, lads, lay on them cruellie, 
 ' We'll ne'er see Teviotside again, 
 
 'Or Willie's death revenged sail be-.' 
 
 The But now take the ballad on its ordinary level of 
 
 ball"d^ narrative, where it is not raised by any such glow of passion, 
 
 tone. and compare it with some analogous part of Homer. In 
 
 the Odyssey King Alcinous suggests to his noble guest 
 
 1 head-piece. — 'Dinlay' (v. 7), a Liddesdale hill. — 'lyart' (v. 8) = 
 grey. 
 
 2 Prof. Veitch's History and Poetry of the Scottish Border (Mac- 
 Lehose, 1878), from which I take this (p. 397), would furnish many 
 other fine examples : see esp. ch. xi. 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 15 
 
 (whom he does not yet know to be Odysseus) that he 
 should stay in Phaeacia, and marry his daughter Nau- 
 sicaa : — 
 
 • Would to father Zeus, and Athene, and Apollo, would that so 
 goodly a man as thou art, and like-minded with me, thou wouldst wed 
 my daughter, and be called my son, here abiding : so would I give thee 
 home and wealth, if thou wouldst stay of thine own will : but against 
 thy will shall none of the Phaeacians keep thee : never be this well- 
 pleasing in the eyes of father Zeus.' 
 
 Absolutely simple and direct as that is, it is also perfect 
 in refinement and in nobleness. 
 
 King Estmere, in the old ballad which bears his name, 
 wishes to marry King Adland's daughter; and Adler, 
 Estmere's brother, announces this to Adland : — 
 
 'You have a daughter,' said Adler young, — 
 
 ' Men call her bright and sheen ; 
 * My brother would marry her to his wife, 
 
 'Of England to be Queen.' 
 
 King Adland replies : — 
 
 ' Yesterday was at my dear daughter 
 
 ' Sir Bremor, the King of Spain ; 
 ' And then she nicked him with Nay : 
 
 ' I fear she'll do you the same.' 
 
 I take this example, because the difference between the 
 tone of King Adland and of King Alcinous seems a not 
 unfair measure of the average difference between the ballad, 
 when it is on its ordinary level, and Homer. It might be 
 questioned whether Mr Matthew Arnold is quite just to the 
 balladists in quoting as a typical verse, 
 
 When the tinker did dine, he had plenty of wine : 
 
 but, at any rate, the main point is indisputable; the balladist 
 is altogether a ruder workman, and also stands on a much 
 lower intellectual level, than the Homeric poet ; whose style 
 varies appropriately to his theme, but always and every- 
 where maintains its noble grace, maintains it, too, without 
 the slightest stiffness, or visible effort ; and whose thoughts 
 on human life show a finer and deeper insight than that of 
 
1 6 HOMER. LCH. 1. 
 
 the balladists. We have been glancing at our old ballads 
 here as representing early folk-song, made by the people for 
 the people. The result is to show that the Homeric poetry 
 is something maturer and higher. Early folk-song has its 
 moments of elevation, and in these comes nearer to Homer; 
 but its general level is immeasurably lower. 
 Homer ^, 9. It is Still more important, perhaps, to perceive the 
 Hterar t)road difference between the Homeric epic and the literary 
 epic. epic of later ages. The literary epic is composed, in an 
 age of advanced civilisation, by a learned poet. His taste 
 and style have been influenced by the writings of many 
 poets before him. He commands the historical and anti- 
 quarian Uterature suitable to his design. He composes 
 with a view to cultivated readers, who will feel the more 
 recondite charms of style, and will understand the literary 
 allusions. / The general character of the literary epic is well 
 illustrated by the great passage of Paradise Lost where 
 Milton is saying how far 'beyond compare of mortal prowess' 
 were the legions of the fallen Archangel : — 
 And now his heart 
 Distends with pride, and, hardening in his strength, 
 Glories; for never, since created Man, 
 Met such embodied force, as named with these, 
 Could merit more than that small infantry 
 Warred on by cranes — though all the giant brood 
 Of Phlegra with the heroic race were joined 
 That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each side 
 Mixed with auxiliar gods; and what resounds 
 In fable or romance of Uther's son. 
 Begirt with British and Armoi'ic knights ; 
 And all who since, baptized or infidel, 
 Jousted in Aspramont, or Montalban, 
 Damasco, or Morocco, or Trebisond, 
 Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore 
 When Charlemain with all his peerage fell 
 By Fontarabia. 
 
 It is a single and a simple thought — the exceeding might 
 of Satan's followers — that Milton here enforces by example 
 after example. A large range of literature is laid under 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 1 7 
 
 contribution, — the classical poets, the Arthurian cycle, the 
 Italian romances of chivalry, the French legends of Charle- 
 magne. The lost angels are measured against the Giants, 
 the Greek heroes, the Knights of the Round Table, the 
 champions of the Cross or the Crescent, and the paladins 
 slain at Roncesvalles. Every name is a literary reminiscence. 
 By the time that ' Aspramont' is reached, we begin to feel that 
 the progress of the enumeration is no longer adding anything 
 to our conception of prowess ; we begin to be aware that, in 
 these splendid verses, the poet is exhibiting his erudition. 
 But this characteristic of the literary epic, — its proneness to 
 employ the resources of learning for the production of a 
 cumulative effect, — is only one of the traits which are ex- 
 empliiied by the passage. Homer would not have said, as 
 Milton does, that, in comparison with the exiled Spirits, all 
 the chivalry of human story was no better than 'that small 
 infantry warred on by cranes;' Homer would have said 
 that it was no better than the Pygmies. /^Homer says plainly 
 and directly what he means ; the Uterary epic likes to say 
 it allusively ; and observe the turn of Milton's expression, 
 — Hhat small infantry;' i.e., 'the small infantry which, of 
 course, you remember in the third book of the Iliad' 
 Lastly, remark Milton's phrase, 'since created Man,* 
 meaning, 'since the creation of Man.' The idiom, so 
 familiar in Greek and Latin, is not English, and so it gives 
 a learned air to the style; the poet is at once felt to be a 
 scholar, and the poem to be a work of the study. Homer's 
 language is everywhere noble, but then it is also natural. 
 So, within the compass of these few lines, three characteris- Summary, 
 tics may be seen which broadly distinguish the' literary epic 
 from Homer.. It is learnedly elaborate, while Homer is 
 spontaneous; it is apt to be allusive, while Homer is ^\J 
 direct ; in language it is often artificially subtle, while 
 Homer, though noble, is plain'. The Homeric quality 
 
 ^ 'The uniivalled clearness and straightforwardness of his thinking' 
 is a point in which Mr Matthew Arnold finds an affinity between 
 Homer and Voltaire. Like Voltaire, Homer 'keeps to one thought at 
 J. 2 
 
/ 
 
 1 8 HOMER. [CH. I. 
 
 which the Hterary epic best attains is nobleness ; yet the 
 nobleness is of a different cast j it is a grave majesty, 
 of stately but somewhat monotonous strain; whereas the 
 noble manner of Homer lends itself with equal ease to 
 every mood of human life; it can render the vehemence of 
 dark passions, or reflect the splendour of battle, but it is 
 not less truly itself in shedding a sunny or tender grace 
 over the gentlest or homeUest scenes, — in short, it is every- 
 where the nobleness of nature. 
 Drvden ^o- It was once a commonplace of criticism to compare 
 
 and Ad- Homer with the great literary epics as if they were works 
 Homer, of tl^e same order. Dryden's Hnes are famous; — 
 Three poets, in three distant ages bom, 
 Greece, Italy, and England did adorn: 
 The first in loftiness of thought surpassed; 
 The next in majesty; in both the last. 
 The force of Nature could no further go ; 
 To make a third she joined the former two^. 
 
 Here, classing the three poets together, Dryden is con- 
 tent with distinguishing Homer as sublime, Virgil as majestic, 
 and Milton as both. Addison, again, compares the Iliad^ 
 the Aeneid, and Paradise Lost in respect of plot, characters, 
 sentiments, and language, — without indicating any sense of 
 the generic difference which separates the Iliad from the 
 other two. To ignore this difference, however, is even 
 more unjust to Virgil and to Milton than it is to Homer. 
 The epic poet in a literary age cannot escape from his age, 
 and the primary condition of justly estimating his poetry is 
 to recognise that it is 7iof a voice from the primitive 
 world; but then he has a task of his own, such as was 
 not laid on the author of the Iliad and the Odyssey, he 
 has to deal with great masses of more or less intractable 
 
 a time, and puts that thought forth in its complete natural plainness, 
 instead of being led away from it by some fancy, striking him in con- 
 nection with it.' 
 
 1 They were first printed under White's portrait of Milton in the 
 edition of Paradise Lost published by Tonson in 1688. Masson's 
 edition of Milton, I. 20. 
 
CH. I. I GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. ig 
 
 materials, — to select from them, — to organise the selected 
 parts, — and to animate them with a ntal breath; he has, 
 in poetry, a constructive function analogous to that which, 
 in prose, is performed by a Li\7 or a Gibbon ; and who does 
 not know with what marvellous power this task has been 
 achieved — in different modes and in different degrees — 
 by the genius of Virgil, of Dante, and of Milton? Then, 
 towards the close of the last century, the origin of the 
 Homeric poems began to be critically discussed, — and 
 the new tendency was to make an assumption exactly op- 
 posite to thai on which Addison's criticism rested. Wolf The 
 protested against comparing Homer with the literar}^ epic ^^^ 
 
 poets, such as Milton. The fashion now was to compare 
 Homer with the makers of primitive folk-songs or ballads. 
 But, as we have seen, this was a mistake in the opposite 
 direction. The first step towards appreciating Homer's 
 place in literature has been gained if we clearly perceive 
 wherein Homer mainly differs from Chevy Chase on the one 
 hand, and from Paradise Lost on the other. 
 
 II. At this point we may refer, for illustration, to an Homer 
 analogy which our own literature offers, — one which, however ^y^itg^ 
 imperfect, is in several respects suggestive, — the analog}^ of Scott. 
 ^Valter Scott's poetry. The relation of Scott to Homer 
 may be viewed from two different sides. If a direct literary- 
 comparison is made. — if the form of Scott's poetr}^ is com- 
 pared \vith that of Homers, — the contrast is more evident 
 than the likeness. If, on the other hand, we look for an 
 analog}-, and not for a direct resemblance, — if Scott's 
 relation to our old balladists is compared with Homer's 
 relation to a ruder age of song, — if the spirit in which Scott 
 re-animates the age of chivalr}* is compared with the spirit 
 in which Homer re-animates the age of Achaean heroism, 
 — then a genuine kinship is discerned. For the English 
 student of Homer, there could scarcely be a more in- 
 teresting exercise than to estimate this unlikeness and this 
 analogy ; it is one which tests our appreciation of Homer 
 in several ways ; and, it may be added, it is one which 
 
 2 — 2 
 
trast. 
 
 20 HOMER. [CH. 1. 
 
 can be attempted with equal profit by those who entertain 
 dissimilar views as to the precise poetical rank of Scott. 
 To begin with the unlikeness, Scott's poetry was formed 
 on the old Border ballad, modified by the medieval 
 element romance; in the note prefixed to Marmion he calls that 
 of con- poem a 'Romantic Tale,' and disclaims all idea of essaying 
 'epic composition.' When, therefore, Mr Matthew Arnold 
 says of Scott's style that 'it is, tried by the highest 
 standards, a bastard epic style,' it is only just to re- 
 member that Scott would himself have deprecated the 
 application of those ' highest standards.' But it is true 
 that, as the same critic says, Scott's style has an inherent 
 inability for maintaining the Homeric level of nobleness ; 
 it necessarily shares that defect with the ballad form on 
 which it is founded. Mr Arnold has quoted these lines 
 (from Marmion vi. 29) as typical of Scott : 
 
 Tunstall lies dead upon the field, 
 His life-blood stains the spotless shield : 
 Edmund is down — my life is reft — 
 The Admiral alone is left. 
 
 He makes two remarks upon them, — that the movement, 
 though rapid, is jerky; and that this external trait points 
 to a deeper spiritual diversity, which the lines also reveal, — 
 Scott's incapacity for the grand manner of Homer. This 
 example is, however, utterly unfair to Scott. First, the 
 *jerkiness' of these lines does not represent the normal 
 movement of Scott's verse where it is most Homeric, — 
 they belong to the broken utterances of the wounded 
 Marmion, as, recovering from his swoon, he hurriedly tells 
 the disastrous tidings of the field to those around him, — 
 their abruptness is purposed' : — next, the whole passage is 
 infinitely far from representing Scott's nearest approach to 
 
 ^ A critic having observed this, Mr Arnold rejoins ('Last Words on 
 translating Homer,' p. 67) that 'the best art, having to represent the 
 death of a hero, does not set about imitating his dying noises.' But 
 Marmion's words are not 'dying noises'; and poetry is surely per- 
 mitted to represent abrupt speech. 
 
CH. I.J GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 21 
 
 the manner of Homer. Adequately to represent that, we 
 might rather quote, from the same Canto, the magnificent 
 description of Flodden, beginning — 
 
 At length the freshenmg western blast 
 Aside the shroud of battle cast ; 
 And, first, the ridge of mingled spears 
 Above the brightening cloud appears, 
 And in the smoke the pennons flew. 
 As in the storm the white sea-mew — 
 
 or, from the Lay^ William of Deloraine's ride from Brank- 
 some to Melrose ; or Dacre's defiance to the warriors of 
 Scotland — 
 
 'And let them come,' fierce Dacre cried; 
 
 'For soon yon crest, my father's pride, 
 
 ' That swept the shores of Judah's sea, 
 
 ' And waved in gales of Galilee, 
 
 ' From Branksome's highest towers display'd, 
 
 ' Shall mock the rescue's lingering aid ' — 
 
 or, from the Lady of the Lake^ a farewell not unworthy to 
 be compared with the parting of Hector and Andromache 
 in the sixth book of the Iliad^ — the passage in which 
 Duncan's widow sees her young son go forth to be the 
 champion of their house : — 
 
 In haste the stripling to his side 
 His father's dirk and broadsword tied ; 
 But when he saw his mother's eye 
 Watch him in speechless agony. 
 Back to her open'd arms he flew, 
 Press'd on her lips a fond adieu — 
 *Alas!' she sobb'd, — 'and yet, be gone, 
 * And speed thee forth, like Duncan's son ! ' 
 One look he cast upon the bier, 
 Dash'd from his eye the gathering tear, 
 Breathed deep to clear his labouring breast, 
 And toss'd aloft his bonnet crest j 
 Then, like the high-bred colt, when, freed, 
 First he essays his fire and speed, 
 He vanish'd, and o'er moor and moss 
 Sped forward with the Fiery Cross. 
 
2 2 HOMER. [CH. I. 
 
 Or — to take but one instance more — the lines, picturing 
 the career of the Fiery Cross, in which Homer's favourite 
 image of a fire raging in the hills is joined to much of 
 Homer's magic in the use of local names — 
 
 Not faster o'er thy heathery braes, 
 Balquhidder, speeds the midnight blaze, 
 Rushing in conflagration strong 
 Thy deep ravines and dells along, 
 Wrapping thy cliffs in purple glow, 
 And reddening the dark lakes below ; 
 Nor faster speeds it, nor so far 
 As o'er thy heaths the voice of war.... 
 
 But it is not by a few detached verses that either the 
 
 unlikeness or the affinity between Homer and Scott can be 
 
 measured : both must be judged by the spirit of the whole. 
 
 The unlikeness, as we have seen, depends on the inherent 
 
 limitations, not merely of the ballad form, but of the ballad 
 
 tone ; it may be briefly expressed in the proposition that 
 
 a translation of Homer into the metres and style of Scott 
 
 could never be successful. 
 
 The ele- The affinity, on the other hand, is profounder and 
 
 ment of jnore essential. On any view as to the oricjin of the 
 analogy. •' ° 
 
 Homeric poems, it is certain that the age of Achaean 
 
 prowess lay behind the Homeric poet, but was still so near 
 
 to him — either in time, or through tradition — that he could 
 
 realise it with entire vividness. Scott stood in a similar 
 
 relation to a past age of warlike and romantic adventure. 
 
 This was due to the peculiar condition of Scotland at the 
 
 • date of his birth in 1771. Those literary influences which 
 
 tend to make the difference between an Aeneid and an Iliad 
 
 were in full force, indeed, at Edinburgh, but they were 
 
 little felt, as yet, in Scotland at large. The memories and 
 
 feelings of an earlier time still survived, with extraordinary 
 
 freshness, in the life of the people. Old men could still 
 
 tell of stirring deeds associated with the risings ot 1 745 and 
 
 1 7 1 5 ; in many a Scottish home some episode of stubborn 
 
 devotion was dear to the descendants of those who had 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 23 
 
 died for the Covenant ; and, in the Border country, ballad 
 and legend still enabled men to feel the mental atmosphere 
 of yet more distant days, when the bale-fire, signalling 
 some inroad from the south, used to flash from peel to 
 peel along the valleys of the Ettrick and the Yarrow, 
 the Teviot and the Tweed. From childhood Scott had 
 breathed this atmosphere and had known these scenes. 
 His strong genius was in the largest sense Homeric, as being 
 in natural sympathy with the heroic. Thus, by a com- 
 bined felicity of moment and temperament, he was in 
 touch with that past. Those features of his poetical style 
 which are most liable to academic criticism are just those 
 which show how far he had escaped from what is most 
 anti-Homeric in an age of books. As Principal Shairp has 
 well said, 'It is this spontaneity, this naturalness of treat- 
 ment, this absence of effort, which marks out Scott's poetry^ 
 as belonging essentially to the popular, and having little 
 in common with the literary, epic\' Nowhere else, per- Summary, 
 haps, in modern literature could any one be found who, 
 in an equal measure with Scott, has united these three 
 conditions of a true spiritual analogy to Homer j—:living 
 realisation of a past heroic age ; a geniu^in native sympathy 
 with the heroic ; and a manner which joins the spontaneous 
 impulse of the balladist to a higher order of art and 
 intellect. 
 
 12. Fresh, direct, and noble, the Homeric mode of pre- The 
 senting life has been singularly potent in tracing certain types ^|oi^''S'^ic 
 of character which ever since have stood out clearly before ters. 
 the imagination of the world. Such, in the first place, are 
 the heroes of the two epics, — Achilles, the type of heroic 
 might, violent in anger and in sorrow, capable also of 
 chivalrous and tender compassion ; Odysseus, the type of 
 resourceful intelligence joined to heroic endurance, — one in 
 whom the power of Homer is seen even better, perhaps, 
 than in Achilles, since the debased Odysseus of later Greek 
 poetry never succeeded in effacing the nobler image of his 
 ^ Aspects of Poetry^ ch. xili. p. 394. 
 
24 HOMER. [CH. I. 
 
 Homeric original. Such, again, are the Homeric types of 
 women, so remarkable for true and fine insight — Andro- 
 mache, the young wife and mother, who, in losing Hector, 
 must lose all; Penelope, loyal under hard trial to her 
 long-absent lord ; the Helen of the Iliad^ remorseful, 
 clear-sighted, keenly sensitive to any kindness shown her 
 at Troy ; the Helen of the Odyssey^ restored to honour in 
 her home at Sparta; the maiden Nausicaa, so beautiful 
 in the dawning promise of a noble womanhood, — perfect 
 in her delicacy, her grace, and her generous courage. 
 From Agamemnon to Thersites there is no prominent 
 agent in the Homeric epic on whom Homer has not set 
 the stamp of some quality which we can feel as distinctive. 
 The divine types of character are marked as clearly, and in 
 the same manner, as the human; — Zeus, the imperious but 
 genial ruler of the Olympian family, — intolerant of com- 
 peting might, but manageable through his affections or his 
 appetites; Hera, his wife, who never loses sight of her 
 great aim, — the advancement of the Greek cause, — but 
 whose sometimes mutinous petulance is tempered by a 
 feminine perception of the point at which her lord's 
 character requires that she should take refuge in blandish- 
 ments; Apollo, the minister of death, the prophet, active in 
 upholding the decrees of his father Zeus, and never at 
 discord with him ; Athene, who, unlike her brother Apollo, 
 is often opposed to the purposes of Zeus, — at once a mighty 
 goddess of war, and the goddess who presides over art 
 and industry. 
 Their 13. Of all such Homeric beings, divine or human, we per- 
 
 va?ue ^^i^^ ^^ dominant qualities and the general tendencies; but 
 they are not individualised beyond a certain point. Perhaps 
 the persons whom we seem to know best are the intensely 
 human Zeus and Hera, who furnish the only Homeric 
 example of domestic wrangling.w^ The epic form, as com- 
 pared with the dramatic, is necessarily at a disadvantage for 
 the subtler delineation of character; -^ut, further, it was the 
 special bent of the Greek genius, in poetry as in plastic art. 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 25 
 
 to aim at l ucid expression of primary motives, and to retrain 
 from multiplying individual traits which might interfere with 
 their effect; a tendency which is seen even in Greek 
 drama. This typical quality in Homeric portraiture has 
 been one secret of its universal impressiveness. The 
 Homeric outlines are in each case brilliantly distinct, 
 while they leave to the reader a certain liberty of private 
 conception ; he can fill them in so as to satisfy his own 
 ideal : and this is one reason for the ease with which 
 Homer's truth to the essential facts of human life has 
 been recognised by every age and race. 
 
 14. The speeches of the Homeric persons illustrate this. Their ex- 
 They faithfully express th e ge neral attributes — of the fngpeech 
 sp^akjers; but — supposing that we already know what 
 these attributes are — we seldom feel that the speech has 
 given us fresh insight of a closer kind : what we do 
 feel is rather that we have heard a speech thoroughly 
 appropriate to a given type of person in a given situation. 
 As an example, we might refer to the great speeches in 
 the ninth Iliad, where Odysseus, Ajax, and Phoenix come 
 as envoys from the Greeks to Achilles, and he — in perhaps 
 the most splendid example of Homeric eloquence — rejects 
 their prayer. Oratorical power, and the faculty of debate 
 — as a master of both has observed — are there seen 
 in their highest form. The speeches are also admirably 
 suited to the type of character which each speaker repre- 
 sents; but they add none of those minor traits by which 
 the secrets of individuality are revealed. 
 
 A similar limit is observable in those cases where a or in 
 person's inward thoughts are clothed in words, and given 
 as a speech which he addresses to his own soul. These 
 audible thoughts are usually in the nature of comments 
 on the main point of the situation, and are such as might 
 have been made by a sympathetic bystander; they are com- 
 parable to the utterances of the Chorus in Greek Tragedy \ 
 
 ^ The regular formula is, ox^^Vas S' apa eiTre irpo% ou /neyaX-qropa 6v/j^w 
 (in which 6x^77(Ttts, ' troubled,' is a general term, denoting, according to 
 
26 HOMER. [CH. I. 
 
 Divine ^5- The profound human interest of the Homeric poems 
 
 and human jg enhanced by another feature in which they stand altogether 
 alone — their mode of blending_div ine and human action. 
 The Homeric gods meet mortals in hand-to-hand fight, they 
 wound them or are wounded by them, they aid or thwart 
 them, advise or deceive them, in visible presence; and it is 
 the unique distinction of Homer that all this is managed 
 without ever making the rlpiti>c^ l^c;,^ f)ian Hiving or t he mor tals 
 mor e than human. ♦^'^omer alone has known how to create 
 a sphere of action in which man's nature is constantly 
 challenged to prove its highest capacity by the direct 
 pressure of a supernatural force, while the gods are not 
 lowered, but exalted, by meeting men on common ground. 
 If we would feel how the Homeric communications between 
 heaven and earth reconcile perfect ease and grace of inter- 
 course with celestial dignity and religious awe, let us 
 contrast them with the abrupt interventions of the deus 
 ex machijia in some plays of Euripides, or, again, with 
 such a relationship of gods and men as the literary epic 
 is apt to represent, — the Aeneid^ for example, where Jupiter 
 is little more than an idealised Roman Senator, and the 
 agency of Olympus generally, instead of being vitally 
 interwoven with the organism of the poem, is rather a 
 mechanical adjunct. 
 Homeric 1 6. A hterary estimate of Homer owes particular notice 
 "^^.^.^ to one abounding source of variety, vividness, and beauty. 
 The Homeric use of simile is so characteristic, it plays so 
 important a part in the poems, and it has so largely in- 
 fluenced later poetry, that it is well worthy of attentive 
 consideration. The first point to observe is that Homeric 
 
 simile is not a mere ornam ent. It serves to introduce 
 
 I ■ ■ 
 
 circumstances, grief, anxiety, terror or anger). It is used in the Iliad 
 of Achilles (i8. 5, 20. 343, 21. 53), Hector (22. 98), Odysseus (11.403), 
 Menclaus (17. 90), Agenor (21. 552). In the Odyssey \i occurs thrice, 
 always of Odysseus (5. 298, 355, 407). The menacing thoughts of 
 Poseidon against Odysseus are twice introduced by a similar formula 
 (/ctfTjcras 6^ Ko-py] irporl ov fivd-qaaro dufiov, 5. 285. 376). 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 27 
 
 something which Homer ,ji esires to rend erjsxceptionally 
 imp ressive, — some moment, it may be, of peculiarly in- 
 tense action, — some sight, or sound, full of wonder, or 
 terror, or pity, — in a word, someth inp: sreat . He wishes to 
 prepare us for it by first describing something similar, only 
 more familiar, which he feels sure of being able to make 
 us see clearly. ♦^Thus the Homeric similes are responses to 
 a demand made on the narrator by the course of the 
 narrative; they indicate a spontaneous glow of poetical 
 energy; and consequently their occurrence seems as natural 
 as their effect is powerful. In the eighteenth book of 
 the Iliad Athene invests Achilles with the aegis, and 
 encircles his head with 'a golden cloud,' from which she 
 makes a flame to blaze. This gives occasion for one of 
 the most beautiful similes in Homer (//. i8. 207) : — 
 
 As from an island city, seen afar, 
 
 The smoke goes up to heaven, when foes besiege; 
 
 And all day long in grievous battle strive 
 
 The leaguered townsmen from their city wall: 
 
 But soon, at set of sun, blaze after blaze, 
 
 Flame forth the beacon-fires, and high the glare 
 
 Shoots up, for all that dwell around to see. 
 
 That they may come with ships to aid their stress: 
 
 Such light blazed heavenwards from Achilles' head^. 
 
 The comparison is between the flame flashing from the 
 golden cloud above the head of Achilles and the beacon- 
 fire which, in the gloaming, flares out beneath its column 
 of smoke. The circumstances of the island siege serve 
 as framework for the image of the beacon. This is fre- 
 quently the case in Homeric simile.^ When Homer com- 
 pares A to B, he will often add details concerning B which 
 have no bearing on the comparison. /"]?or instance, when 
 
 ^ This version is from an admirable translation of ' The Similes of 
 Homer's Iliad' by the Rev. W. C. Green, late Fellow of King's 
 College, Cambridge (Longmans, 1877). In v. 211 I have ventured 
 to substitute 'Flame forth' {(pXeyidoviXLv) for 'Are lit,' because I con- 
 ceive the fires to have been lit before. 
 
28 HOMER. [CH. 1. 
 
 the sea-god Poseidon soars into the air from the Trojan 
 plain, he is compared to a hawk (^.f. l;^. 62), — 
 
 That from a beetling brow of rock 
 Launched in mid air forth dashes /<? pjirsiie 
 Some lesser bird along the plain below : 
 
 but Poseidon is not pursuing any one; the point of simi- 
 litude is solely the speed through the air. Such admission 
 irrelevant of irrelevant detail might seem foreign to that direct aim at 
 detail. vividness which is the ruHng motive of Homeric simile; but 
 it is, in fact, only another expression of it. If A is to 
 be made clearer by means of B, B itself must be clearly 
 seen; and therefore Homer takes care that B shall never 
 remain abstract or shadowy ; he invests it with enough 
 of detail to place a concrete image before the mind. The 
 hawk, for example, to whom Poseidon is likened, is more 
 vividly conceived when it is described as doing a particular 
 act characteristic of a hawk, — viz. pursuing another bird. 
 
 * Secure of the main likeness,' Pope says, ' Homer makes 
 no scruple to play with the circumstances;' but, while this 
 is true in the sense just noticed, we must remember that the 
 Homeric 'playing v/ith circumstances ' is never an aimless 
 luxuriance. The poet's delight in a picture, and the Hellenic 
 love of clear-cut form, are certainly present ; but both are 
 subordinate to a sense that the object which furnishes the 
 simile must be made distinct before the simile itself can be 
 Com- effective. In this respect Dante sometimes offers a striking 
 panson resemblance to Homer. It is generally believed that Dante 
 Dante, had no direct knowledge of Homer ; but, even if it had 
 been otherwise, the particular resemblance of which we are 
 now speaking is manifestly due to a natural affinity of 
 spirit, — to the earnest desire of vividness, — and not to 
 literary imitation. Dante compares the boiling pitch of 
 Malebolge to the boiling pitch in the Arsenal of Venice 
 {Inf. XXI.). And, in order that the Arsenal may be more 
 clearly placed before our minds, he rapidly mentions the 
 various tasks with which the workers in it are busy, — 
 how one map is building a new boat, while another is 
 
CH. I.J GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 29. 
 
 caulking an old one, — how one is hammering at the prow, 
 another at the poop, — .^ow others are making oars, ■ or 
 twisting ropes, while others mend mizen or mainsail. 
 These labours have no analogy to the sufferings of the 
 lost in the Infernal Lake ; but they help us to see the very 
 place where the pitch is boiling at Venice ', and the de- 
 scription of them is therefore thoroughly Homeric. A Contrast 
 contrast is afforded by the Hebraic similes of the Old Hebrew 
 Testament, which, as a rule, tersely mark the point of poetry, 
 comparison, and djs£ens ewith non-essential details . There 
 are, of course, exceptions; as when Job, comparing the 
 inconstancy of friends to the failure of water, makes such 
 failure more vivid — in a truly Homeric manner — by de- 
 scribing the disappointment of wanderers in the desert, 
 who reach springs only to find them dry : — ' the caravans 
 of Tema look for them, the companies of Sheba rest their 
 hope on them: they are ashamed of their trust, they come 
 hither and blush ' (Job vi. 15 — 20). 
 
 i^ The Iliad contains about a hundred and eighty de- \yiay 
 tailed similes,— the Odyssey, barely forty; and the proportion J^Terln^ 
 is such as might be expected when the broad difference the 
 between the two epics is considered. Full of adventure y^^^y- 
 and marvel as is the Odyssey, it has far fewer moments 
 of concentrated excitement than are presented by the war- 
 like action of the Iliad ; in particular, it lacks all those 
 numerous occasions for simile which in the Iliad are given 
 by the movements of masses. But the spirit of the com- 
 parisons is essentially the same. When Charybdis swallows 
 the raft of Odysseus, he saves himself by clutching a wild 
 fig-tree which overhangs the whirlpool. There he clings, 
 'like a bat,' waiting till the depths of the vortex shall give 
 up his raft; and the keenness of his prolonged suspense 
 is emphasised by a simile. 'At the hour when a man rises 
 up from the assembly, and goes to supper, — one who 
 judges the many quarrels of the young, men that seek to 
 him for law, — at that same hour those timbers came forth 
 to view from out Charybdis' {Od. 12. 439)^ 
 
 ^ Lest it be objected that these three verses, Od. 12. 459 — 441,. 
 
30 HOMER. [CH. I. 
 
 Range of 1 8 The range _of,TTnmerir. simil e is as w ide as the life 
 ^^^. known Jo^he: poet. Some of the grandest images are 
 suggested by fire — especially, fire raging in a mountain 
 forest — by torrent, snowstorm, lightning, or warring winds. 
 Among animals, the lion is remarkable as furnishing no 
 fewer than thirty comparisons to the I/iad, — the finest of 
 all, perhaps, being that in which Ajax, defending the corpse 
 of Patroclus, is compared to a lion guarding his cubs, 
 wno 'glares in his strength, and draws down all the skin 
 of his brows, covering his eyes^' (//. 17. 135). The useful 
 and ornamental arts afford other similitudes (which we 
 shall have occasion to mention in the next chapter); others 
 are drawn from the commonest operations or experiences of 
 every-day life ; for Homer thinks nothing too homely for 
 his purpose, if only it is vivid. The struggle of Greeks and 
 Trojans for the body of Patroclus is likened to men tugging 
 at a bull's hide which they wish to stretch for tanning 
 (//. 17. 389); the quick staunching of the War-God's wound 
 by the divine healer, Paieon, is likened to the quick curdling 
 of milk by the agency of fig-juice — the old Greek equivalent 
 for rennet (//. 5. 902); the stubborn Ajax, beset by Trojans, 
 is likened to an ass trespassing on corn-land, and vainly 
 belaboured with cudgels by boys (//. 11. 557). This forcible 
 use of homely imagery is no less Hebraic than Homeric; 
 it is enough to recall 2 Kings xxi. 13, *I will wipe 
 Jerusalem as a man wipeth a dish: he wipeth it and 
 turneth it upside down,' — or the similes (which Homer 
 also has) from the threshing-floor and the winnowing fan. 
 Special mention is due to a small group of pecuharly 
 
 / 
 were suspected in antiquity (though on grounds which seem very 
 
 inconclusive), another example may be added — Od. 6. 232 ff., where 
 
 the splendour given by Athene to the aspect of Odysseus is marked by 
 
 the simile of the craftsman overlaying gold upon silver. 
 
 ^ It should be noted that a personal knowledge of Uons would not 
 
 necessarily presuppose an Asiatic Homer. In the 5th century B.C. 
 
 lions still existed in Thessaly, Macedonia, and Thrace, according to 
 
 Herod. 7. 125 f. His statement is confirmed by Xenophon [Cyneg. 11), 
 
 and by Aristotle, a native of the region [Hist. An. 6. 31, 8. 28). See 
 
 Geddes, Froble?n of the Homeric Poems, p. 268. 
 
CH. I. j GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 3 1 
 
 touching similes in the Iliad — taken, as if for contrast 
 with camp and battle, from the life of children, or of the 
 family. Apollo throws down the Greek wall as easily as 
 a child destroys the sand-house which he has built on the 
 sea-shore (//. 15. 361); Achilles reproves Patroclus for 
 weeping like a little girl running at her mother's side, 
 clinging to her robe, and tearfully looking up, until the 
 mother lifts her in her arms (//. 16. 2). Achilles, burning 
 the remains of Patroclus, grieves as a father burning the 
 remains of a son who has died soon after marriage (//. 
 23. 222). The evenly-poised battle is as the balance in 
 the hands of a careful working-woman, weighing wool, 'that 
 she may win a scanty wage for her children' (//. 12. 435)- 
 
 Subjecti ve imagery, fi prn c;pnc;nfinn or thought, is ex- Sub- 
 tremely rare in Homer. Once there is a simile from a^^^^JJ^ 
 dream, in which the dreamer cannot overtake one who rare, 
 flies before him (//. 22. 199). Once only in the Iliad 
 have we a simile — but then a most beautiful one — from 
 the action of the waking mind. Hera, speeding from Ida 
 to Olympus, is likened, for swiftness, to the thoughts of a 
 man who has travelled in many lands : ' He considers in 
 his wise heart, — " Would that I were there — or there P"" — 
 and thinks wistfully of many things' (//. 15. 82).^ ♦*-' 
 
 19. Homer sometimes illustrates the same object by two Aggre- 
 or more similes, presented in rapid succession. It is well §^'^\<j''^ ^^ 
 to observe the condition under which this usually occurs, —how 
 since imitations of the practice by later poets have some- ^^ ^^ 
 times been Homeric in semblance without being properly 
 Homeric in motive. A good example is afforded by the 
 passage which describes the Greeks thronging from their 
 quarters by the ships to the place of assembly in the 
 plain. Five comparisons are there contained in twenty-two . 
 verses (//. 2. 455 — 476). As the Greeks issue from their 
 huts in glittering armour, the poet likens thein to fire 
 devouring a great forest ;*^s they noisily hasten forward 
 on the plain, to a clamorous flight of birds; as, having 
 reached the place of meeting, they stand in their assembled 
 
 ^ Cp. Od. 7. 36 : the Phaeacian ships are * swift as a wing, or as a 
 thoncrht '. 
 
2,2 HOMER. [CH. 1. 
 
 multitude, to countless /eaves; as they are agitated by a 
 ripple of warlike excitement, to buzzing Jlies ; and, as they 
 are marshalled in divisions by their leaders, to flocks of 
 goats parted by goat-herds. Fire — birds — leaves — flies — 
 goats; — each image marks a distinct moment; one rapidly 
 follows another in the order in which the phases of the 
 great spectacle itself are unfolded before Homer's imagi- 
 nation. Homer's one anxiety is to make us see each 
 successive phase of that spectacle as vividly as he sees it : 
 if he can only do that, he does not care — as a literary 
 epic poet would have been apt to care — how incongruous 
 the similes, taken all together, may appear, or how closely 
 they are crowded together. When Milton compares the 
 fallen angels, prone on the fiery flood, to autumn leaves 
 strewing a brook, or to sedge scattered on the Red Sea\ 
 the images of multitude are alternative ; but in the Homeric 
 passage, while the general idea of multitude is common 
 to the images from birds, leaves, flies, and goats, each 
 image presents that idea in a different aspect. Sometimes 
 one simile is almost unconsciously evolved from another. 
 In //. 13. 492 the Trojans following Aeneas are compared 
 to sheep following the bell-wether ;^is suggests the joy felt 
 by the shepherd; and this, m'turn, is compared to the joy 
 felt by Aeneas.^t is a similar transition when Milton adds, 
 after speaking of the sedge on the Red Sea, — 
 
 whose waves o'erthrew 
 Busiris and his Memphian chivahy, — 
 
 and so evolves a new image for the confusion of the Arch- 
 Rebel's host, 
 q-l^g 20. It may now be well to select some one integral 
 
 Twenty- portion or chapter of Homeric action, — to follow it in rapid 
 Book of outline, — and to see how it illustrates those leading cha- 
 ihelh'ad. racteristics which have been separately considered. For 
 this purpose, no part of either epic can be more suitable 
 than the twenty-second book of the ///ad, where the story 
 
 ^ Par. Lost i. 303 ff. 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 33 
 
 may be said to culminate in the slaying of Hector by 
 Achilles. No other single book of Homer, perhaps, is 
 more comprehensively typical. 
 
 Athene (in Olympus) is friendly to Achilles ; Apollo, on 
 the Trojan plain, is befriending Hector. In order to save 
 Hector, Apollo has taken upon himself the semblance of a 
 Trojan warrior, and has enticed Achilles away in pursuit. 
 At last Apollo reveals himself to his pursuer : — ' Wherefore, 
 son of Peleus, chasest thou me with swift feet?'. ..'Me thou 
 wilt never slay, for I am not subject unto death.' Achilles 
 replies, in anger : ' Thou hast foiled me, Far-darter, most 
 mischievous of all the gods... Verily I would avenge me on 
 thee, had I but the power.' Achilles then rushes back over 
 the plain to Troy, — 4ike some victorious steed in a chariot' 
 
 Hector, ' bound by deadly Fate,' is meanwhile standing 
 before the walls of Troy, at the Scaean Gates. His aged 
 father, Priam, is on the walls, and can see Achilles rushing 
 onward, — his armour flashing 'Hke the star that cometh 
 forth at harvest-time,' — like Orion's Dog, that brings fever 
 to men. Priam implores his son to come within the walls ; 
 — 'Have compassion on me also, the helpless one;' — he 
 rends his white hair, — but"'Hector is deaf to him, — and to 
 his mother Hecuba, who also pleads with him from the 
 walls : — ' Hector, my child, have regard unto this bosom, 
 and pity me, if ever I gave thee consolation of my breast.' 
 
 Achilles has now come close. ' As a serpent of the 
 mountains upon his den awaiteth a man, having fed on evil 
 poisons, and fell wrath hath entered into him,' — so Hector 
 awaits the attack ; yet he rs troubled, and his thoughts are 
 told to us in words — ' thus spake he to his great heart.' 
 But Achilles is upon him, like a very god of war, 'brandishing 
 from his right shoulder the Pelian ash, his terrible spear; 
 and, all around, the bronze on him flashed like the gleam 
 of blazing fire, or of the Sun as he ariseth.' Hector turns to 
 flight, and Achilles pursues him round the walls of Troy, — 
 ' as a falcon upon the mountains, swiftest of winged things, 
 swoopeth fleetly after a trembling dove.' 
 
34 
 
 HOMER. [CH. I. 
 
 All the gods are gazing on them from Olympus, and 
 now, seeing Hector hard-pressed, Zeus speaks among them. 
 Shall we save Hector, he asks, or allow Achilles to slay him? 
 Athene protests against the idea of saving Hector, — 'a 
 mortal, doomed long ago by Fate; ' and Zeus answers, — 
 * Be of good comfort, dear child : not in full earnest speak 
 I ; and I would fain be kind to thee. Do as seemeth good 
 to thy mind.' Then Athene darts down to the battle-field, 
 to help Achilles. 
 
 Now for the third time Achilles had chased Hector 
 round the walls, when Zeus, in Olympus, ' hung his golden 
 balances, and set therein two lots of dreary death,' — one for 
 Achilles, one for Hector. Hector's scale sinks, — he is to die : 
 and from that moment Apollo has no more power to help 
 him. 
 
 Athene, on the plain below, now comes to the side of 
 Achilles : * Do thou stand still, and take breath ; and I will 
 go, and persuade this man to face thee in fight.' She takes 
 the guise of the Trojan Deiphobos, Hector's brother, and 
 pretends that she has come forth from Troy to aid him. 
 Thus encouraged. Hector turns to confront Achilles, — 
 defying him to combat, but proposing, before they fight, to 
 make a chivalrous compact, — that, whichever may fall, the 
 victor shall be content with stripping the armour from the 
 vanquished, and shall restore the corpse, to receive the due 
 rites from friends. Achilles sternly answers that there can 
 be no compact between them, 'as between men and lions 
 there is no pledge of faith, — as wolves and sheep cannot be 
 of one mind.' 
 
 He hurls his spear, — Hector crouches, and it flies over 
 his head ; — Athene, unseen of Hector, restores it to the 
 hand of Achilles. Hector now hurls his spear, but he, too, 
 misses: — he calls to his trusty brother Deiphobos for a 
 second spear — but Deiphobos has vanished ! The truth 
 flashes on Hector — ' It was AtJmie who played me false' — 
 and he knows that he is doomed. Drawing his sword, he 
 rushes on Achilles, who, by a spear-thrust, mortally wounds 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 35 
 
 him in the neck, — and he falls. ' I pray thee by thy life, 
 and knees, and parents,' the dying man says, * leave me not 
 for dogs to devour by the ships of the Achaeans,' — but 
 Achilles brooks no thought of ransom for the corpse. ' En- 
 treat me not, dog, by knees or parents : would that my 
 heart's desire could so bid me myself to carve thy flesh, and 
 eat it raw, for the evil thou hast wrought me, as surely 
 there is none that shall keep the dogs from thee.' Then, 
 with his last breath. Hector warns his slayer of wrath to 
 come from the gods, in the day when he also shall be slain 
 at those same Gates of Troy; 'and the shadow of death 
 came down upon him, and his soul flew forth of his limbs, 
 and was gone to the house of Hades, wailing her fate, 
 leaving her vigour and youth.' 
 
 Achilles strips the gory armour from the body, and 
 binds the body to his chariot, and, lashing his horses to 
 speed, drags it to the camp : the fierce rage for the death 
 of Patroclus is still consuming his heart: while, in Troy, 
 Priam and Hecuba make bitter lament, and all the folk of 
 Troy fall to crying and moaning : ' most like it seemed as 
 though all beetling Ilios were burning utterly with fire.' 
 
 But meanwhile Hector's wife, Andromache, was in her 
 house in Troy, waiting for his return: 'in an inner chamber 
 she was weaving a double purple web, and broidering there- 
 in manifold flowers.' She had bade her handmaids ' to set 
 a great tripod on the fire, that Hector might have warm 
 washing when he came home out of the battle, — fond 
 heart! — and knew not how, far from all washings, bright- 
 eyed Athene had slain him by the hand of Achilles.' 
 Suddenly she heard the cry of Hector's mother, Hecuba, 
 on the battlements ; ' her limbs reeled, and the shuttle fell 
 from her hands.' She rushed forth with two of her hand- 
 maids : 'but when she came to the battlements and the 
 throng of men, she stood still upon the wall, and gazed, and 
 beheld him dragged before the walls : and night came on 
 her eyes, and shrouded her.' The awakening from that 
 swoon is followed by her passionate lament, for herself, and 
 
 3—2 
 
36 HOMER. [CH. I. 
 
 for her son : ' the day of orphanage sunders a child from 
 his fellows.' 
 Con- 21. In the swift action of this twenty-second book, we 
 
 remarks ^^^ recognise at least four general traits as pre-eminently 
 Homeric. 
 
 (i) The outlines of character are made distinct in deed, 
 in dialogue, and in audible thought. 
 
 v/(2) The divine and human agencies are interfused : 
 the scene passes rapidly from earth to Olympus, and again 
 to earth : the gods speak tlie same language as men, — 
 noble, yet simple and direct; the gods are superhuman 
 in might, — human in love, in hate, and in guile. 
 
 y (3) Each crisis of the narrative is marked by a powerful 
 simile from nature. 
 
 ^4) The fiercest scenes of war are brouglit into relief 
 against profoundly touching pictures of domestic love and 
 sorrow. 
 
 Perhaps the best proof of the enduring reality which 
 Homer has given to his epic world is the fact that, in a 
 world so different as our own, ' Homeric ' is still an 
 epithet which can be applied, not only to a style, but to an 
 action or to a man. Among those for whom the word 
 ' Homeric ' has a clear meaning, not a few, perhaps, have 
 known some friend in whose character or conduct they 
 have felt a certain affinity with the spirit which breathes in 
 Homer. 
 
 One example may suffice. After referring to the 
 Homeric qualities which distinguish Clough's poem, T/ie 
 Bothie of Tober-na-Vuolich, — 'its out-of-doors freshness, life, 
 naturalness, buoyant rapidity,' its Homeric ring in such 
 phrases as '■Dangerous Corrievrechan..Avhere roads are 2m- 
 kno7vn to Loch Nevish' — Mr Matthew Arnold goes on to 
 say of Clough himself, — 'But that in him of which I think 
 oftenest, is the Homeric simplicity of his literary life.' 
 
 Those general characteristics of Homer which it has been 
 the purpose of this chapter to indicate are the chief reasons 
 why the word ' Homeric ' is fraught with a living suggestive- 
 
CH. I.] GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. 37 
 
 ness, not shared by ' Virgilian ' or ' Miltonic' But there is 
 also a further reason. Homer describes a certain phase of 
 early civilisation. He portrays its politics, its religious and 
 moral ideas, its material circumstances, its social manners. 
 This picture is not a laboured mosaic or an archaeological 
 revival. It is a naturally harmonious whole, and it completes 
 the unity of impression which Homer leaves on the mind. 
 We may now consider the principal features of this picture. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Homeric World. 
 
 The I. The Homeric poems are the oldest documents of 
 
 Hellenic [^gHenic life. The Greek race, as first revealed by Homer, re- 
 type ' ^ ' 
 already sembles the poetical art which discloses it. It is a matured 
 mature, ^yp^^ which must have been gradually developed, though the 
 antecedent phases of development are lost in a prehistoric 
 darkness. The Homeric Greek exhibits all the essential 
 characteristics and aptitudes which distinguish his descendant 
 in the historical age. If his natural gifts are not yet in full 
 exercise, they only wait for opportunity and circumstance. 
 The broader aspects of the Homeric world are the same in 
 the Iliad and in the Odyssey. But there are also differences, 
 which, like certain traits of language, suggest that the 
 Odyssey belongs to a somewhat later period than the Iliad. 
 General These differences will be noted as they occur. On the 
 of die other hand, each epic may, for our present purpose, be 
 picture, treated as a whole. Each, indeed, — as will be seen in 
 Chapter iv., — contains parts which did not belong to the 
 original form of the poem. In the Iliad such additions 
 have been numerous, and certainly have not all been 
 contemporaneous; yet, even there, minor discrepancies in 
 regard to plot and style do not affect the general con- 
 sistency with which the salient features of the Achaean 
 period are presented. 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 39 
 
 2. As the geography is the framework of the picture, Homerii 
 we may first glance at that. Homer imagines the earth p^°^"^^' 
 as a round plane, girdled by the deep and strong river 
 Oceanus — which, as far as Homer is concerned, seems to 
 
 have nothing to do with any dim idea of the Atlantic, but 
 to be a pure myth. The 'bronze' or 'iron' sky is the con- 
 cave roof of the earth, propped by pillars which the giant 
 Atlas upholds \ On this large flat disc, the earth, there is 
 only one inner zone of which Homer has any distinct 
 notion. This is the belt of countries around the Aegean 
 sea. By the 'inner geography' of Homer we mean the geo- 'Inner' 
 graphy of this Aegean zone. The 'outer geography' consists ^q^^^^' 
 in hints of regions beyond that zone. The 'outer geo- geogra- 
 graphy' is very scant and hazy. So much is true of both P ^' 
 poems. 
 
 3. On the western side of the Aegean, the I/iad shows I/iad. 
 a good knowledge of Greece. There is not, however, any ^go^^a- 
 collective name for it. The Greeks are called the ' Achaeans,' phy. 
 'the Argives,' or 'the Danai^' '■Hellas' denotes merely a 
 district in the region afterwards called Thessaly^ The 
 name Thessaly does not occur in either poem, though the 
 
 ^ Ml- Bunbury, in his History of And ejit Geography [i. 33), thinks 
 that the Homeric Atlas merely guards the pillars, and that the idea 
 of his upholding them began with later poets (lies. Theog. 517 etc.). 
 But in Od. i. 53 ?x" ^^ '^^ dovas avrbi, k.t.X., the emphatic pronoun 
 favours the other view, which the name a-rXas (upholder) itself sug- 
 gests. Atlas has -been explained as the sea, on which, at the horizon, 
 the sky seems to rest. 
 
 ^ In //. 2. 530 (Catalogue), but nowhere else, we have UaueWrjvas 
 Kal 'Axatous. 
 
 ^ //. 2. 683 ot t' elxou ^6ir]v ^5' 'EXXdSa KaXXiy^vaLKa. Plithia 
 and Hellas are there two of five districts in UeXaffyiKbp "Apyos, which 
 belong to the kingdom of Peleus. In //. 9 (one of the perhaps later 
 books), 447, 478, ' Hellas' seems to have a larger sense, denoting -the 
 whole N. region of Thessaly. In Od. i. 344 Kad"E\\d5a Kal fiiaov 
 ''Ap7cjs=' in Northern and Southern Greece.' 'EXXds = all Greece first 
 in Hes. 0pp. 651. Thuc. (i. 3) supposes that when the hero Hellen and 
 his sons had grown powerful in Phthiotis, the name Hellenes became 
 diffused through their being called in to help other states in war. 
 
40 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 region is familiar to a part of the Iliad. The knowledge 
 of western Greece includes Aetolia, with the great river 
 Achelous, but excludes Acarnania and Epeirus (which is not 
 found as a proper name). The poetical assumption in the 
 Iliad is that the Achaean princes are still ruling in Pelo- 
 ponnesus, Agamemnon having his royal seat at Mycenae. 
 * Dorians' are not mentioned in the Iliad. The name 
 *Argos' denotes not only the town Argos, or the region of 
 Argolis, but also, especially in the formula ^Achaean 
 Argos V the whole or a great part of Peloponnesus (a name 
 which Homer never uses). Similarly '• Pelasgian Argos ^ 
 seems to mean Thessaly, or the northern part of it. On 
 the northern shores of the Aegean, the Thracian tribes 
 are known, including the Paeonians who dwell on the 
 Axius (Vardar), 'the fairest stream that waters the 
 earth ^' 
 
 In Asia Minor, the Iliad knows the topography of the 
 Troad in some detail. The country afterwards called Lydia 
 is 'Maeonia,' identified by the mention of Mount Tmolus^ 
 On the coast from Mysia to Caria not one of the Greek 
 colonies is mentioned^ The name of 'lonians' occurs only 
 once in Homer (//. 13. 685), and in that passage it has 
 been generally understood as referring to the Athenians. 
 The references to the interior of Asia Minor (Phrygia, Paph- 
 
 ^ "A/)7oj 'AxaiKov, II. 9. 141, 283: 19. 115: Od. 3. 251. In Od. 
 18. 246 "lacro;/ "Ap7os also = Peloponnesus : and ''A/37os alone \vas, this 
 sense in Od. i. 344, &c. In //. 12. 70 the phrase d7r"'Ap7eos (repeated, 
 13. 227, 14. 70) seems to mean the whole of Greece. (Distinguish 
 Homer's cTtt/t; '^ata (a far land) from later poets' 'A7r/a 7^ = Pelo- 
 ponnesus. ) 
 
 " neXa(r7t«:6j' ''A/)7oj //. 2. 681 (the only place in either poem where 
 this combination occurs). 
 
 3 //. 2. 850. 
 
 * //. 2. 866. In 20. 390 ff. the \[ix.vy] Vv^ai-q and the river Hermus 
 are also named. "TS?; there (383) seems to represent a site answering to 
 that of Sardis. 
 
 ^ The name oi Miletus^ indeed, occurs (//. 2. 868), — but it is a town 
 of the Kapes ^ap^ap6(p(ji}voi, who also possess Mycale, and the 
 valley of the Maeander. In 2. 647 Miletus is a town of Crete. 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 41 
 
 lagonia, etc.) are slight and vague'. Among the Aegean 
 islands, Crete and Rhodes are named, with a south-eastern 
 group : also the group of the north-east, off the Troad — 
 Tenedos, Imbros, Samothrace (called Samos), Lesbos, 
 Lemnos. There is no mention of the Cyclades, nor of 
 Chios or Samos. 
 
 The 'outer' geography of the Iliad asks but few words, THad. 
 To the north, there is a dim rumour of nomads who roam creo-^ra- 
 the plains beyond the Thracian hills, living on the milk of phy- 
 their mares*: yet the name 'Scythian' is not found. To the 
 south, there is a rumour of 'swart faces' (Aethiopes), 
 'remotest of men': and of Pygmies, who dwell hard by 
 the banks of the river Ocean ^ Egypt is noticed only in a 
 passing mention of the Egyptian Thebes*. The name 
 ' Phoenician ' occurs only once, but the cunning works of 
 Sidon are more than once mentioned ^ Tyre is not 
 named. 
 
 4. The 'Catalogue' of the Greek and Trojan allies (//. The 
 
 2. 484 — 877) has a pecuhar character, and should be con- Jo^^gj. 
 
 sidered by itself, apart from the rest of the Iliad. The small a docu- 
 ment 
 apart. 
 ^ A region somewhere to the east of Paphlagonia seems to be 
 
 denoted by 'AXv^rj, 'the birthplace of silver,' the home of the Halizones 
 {//. 2. 857, cp, 5. 39), — identified by some of the ancients with the 
 country of the Chalybes. Neither poem mentions the Euxine, or the 
 river Halys. (See Bunbury, Anc. Geo. i. 37.) 
 
 ^ 'Iinrr)iio\yCjv \ yXaKTOipdycov, II. 13. 5. 
 
 ^ The //. mentions the Aethiopes only when it is needful to send the 
 ^ods on some very distant excursion (to feast on the Aethiopian 
 offerings) — i. 428, 23. 206. The 'Pygmies' (3. 6) are curiously 
 illustrated by M. Schweinfurth's account of a race of dwarfs (Akka) 
 in Central Africa {Ti-avds in the Heart of Africa ii. ch. xvi.) : 
 Bunbury i. 48. 
 
 * //. 9. 381 f. Q-q^as I AlyvTTTLas, 66 l irXelara 86/j.ois ev KTrjfxaTa 
 KGiTaL : it has a hundred gates, and at each 200 men ' go forth with 
 horses and chariots.' Orchomenus (in Boeotia) and Apollo's temple 
 in ' Pytho' (Delphi) are the other typically rich places {ib. 381, 405). 
 
 5 Phoenicians //. 23. 744 : Sidon 6. 289 (embroidered robes, ^pya 
 yvvaiKdv \ 2ii8opl(i3v) : 23. 743 (a silver cup, StS^j/es iroXvdaioaXoL ev 
 vaKrjcrav). 
 
42 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 groups of verses, strung together in a jerky manner, show 
 the style of the Hesiodic school, which produced other 
 'Catalogues' of this kind, and which had its chief seat in 
 Boeotia. Accordingly the poet of the Catalogue makes 
 Boeotia the most important part of Greece. He puts it first, 
 and names more towns in it than in any other region \ The 
 story that Solon inserted a verse (558) in order to support 
 the Athenian claim to Salamis seems at least to indicate 
 that, as early as circ. 600 B.C., the Catalogue had canonical 
 authority as a Domesday Book of Greece. At the same 
 time the story suggests the kind of motive, and also 
 the ease, with which interpolations may have been made 
 down to a relatively late period. And there can be no 
 doubt that the Catalogue actually contains such additions. 
 But, in the main, it may be as old as 800 — 700 b.c, or 
 older. The Achaean empire of Agamemnon, with its 
 capital at Mycenae, extends beyond the Peloponnesus : 
 Boeotia and Thessaly are populous, while Athens is ob- 
 scure : Greek settlers have reached Crete and Rhodes, but 
 are not heard of on the coasts of Asia Minor. In these 
 broad features the map of the Catalogue is probably 
 historical, though we cannot date it^ But it certainly was 
 not originally intended for its present place in the Iliad. 
 The Hesiodic poet who composed it appears to have been 
 thinking of the Greek ships as mustering on the shores 
 of his own Boeotia, before they left Aulis for Troy^ And 
 in two special points the Catalogue seems to be at variance 
 with popular tradition. It places the Boeotians in Boeotia ; 
 but, according to the popular Greek tradition, their im- 
 
 ^ 29 in all. From Boeotia the poet of the Catalogue passes to the 
 regions around it — then to Peloponnesus and the regions adjacent to 
 it on the N.W.— then to Crete— and then back to Thessaly. Among 
 the places in Greece Proper not mentioned in the Catalogue are Delphi, 
 Eleusis, Megara, Pisa, Pharsalus, Larissa. 
 
 2 Cp. Freeman, Hist. Geography of Europe, and D. B. Monro 
 in the Historical Reviraj, no. i. 
 
 2 Hence a7e f^as, vie-i larix'^fjivro, etc., which would be strange if 
 the ships had for ten years been drawn up on land at Troy. 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 43 
 
 migration took place sixty years after the Trojan war\ It 
 is true, we do not know the authority for this tradition, nor 
 can we press it, as to the fact ; but at least the absence 
 of the name Thessaly from the Iliad, while the region is so 
 well-known, agrees with the tradition. Again, the Catalogue 
 places Tlepolemus, — a Heracleid, and therefore a Dorian, — 
 in Rhodes ^ Dorians are mentioned nowhere else in the 
 Iliad; and their presence in Rhodes rather suggests their 
 presence in Peloponnesus, since it was from Sparta that 
 the Dorian colonisation of the Aegean islands seems to 
 have begun. The passage relating to Tlepolemus may, of 
 course, be a later interpolation. 
 
 5. This being the area which the Iliad recognises, it Traces of 
 maybe asked — 'How far does the poem show 2, persoiial"^^^^ 
 knowledge of its scenes?' The answer must be that there ledge. 
 are two main threads of local association. Parts of the Iliad 
 bear the impress of northern Greece in the imagery of wild 
 woodlands and hills ; in the prominence given to the horse, 
 which is characteristic of Thessaly ; and in the presence of 
 Mount Olympus as the dominant feature of the landscape*. 
 Other parts of the Iliad show local colouring borrowed 
 from the valley of the Cayster near Ephesus, or from that 
 'Icarian sea' which washed the sea-board of south-western 
 
 ^ The mythical chronology placed events in this order: — 1184 B.C. 
 Troy taken : 11 24, Boeotians driven Southward into 'Boeotia' by the 
 Thessalian immigrants from Epeirus : 1104, Achaean rule in the 
 Peloponnesus overthrown by the Dorians. Thuc. (l. i'2) noticed this 
 dii^culty in the Catalogue, and got over it by supposing that Homer's 
 Boeotians were only a sort of advanced guard (d7ro5a(r/i6s). It is 
 curious that the Catalogue (v. 750) seems to put Dodona in Thessaly, 
 instead of Epeirus. 
 
 2 //. 2. 655. His followers are 5td rptxa Ko<Tix-i)OivTes — a hint of the 
 three Dorian tribes (Hylleis, Dymanes, Pamphyli). — Cp. Find. Fytk. 
 5. 68 where the Dorian colonisers of Thera set out from Sparta. 
 
 3 See Geddes, Problem of the Homeric Poems, chapters xviii, xix, 
 XX, where this whole topic is ably treated. The traits from northern 
 Greece belong mainly to Grote's ' Achilleid' {Iliad minus books 2 — 7> 
 9, 10, 23, 24). The character of Thessaly as especially the equestrian 
 land is illustrated by the frequency of the horse on the coins of Crannon, 
 Larissa, Pharsalus, and Pherae (Geddes, p. 248). 
 
44 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 Asia Minor. We also find the Niobe myth localised at 
 Mount Sipylus on the Lydian border'. 
 Odyssey. 6. In the Odyssey, the coast of Ionia is better known. 
 
 GecKTra- ^^^ ^^^^ ^°^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ Chios, and of * windy Mimas', 
 
 phy. the neighbouring promontory on the Ionian mainland ^ The 
 
 poet knows the altar of Apollo in Delos, the central resort 
 
 of early Ionian worship ^ 'Dorians' are once mentioned, 
 
 1^ in Crete*. In Greece Proper we still hear of 'Pytho', as in 
 
 ^ the Iliad, not yet of Delphi^ As to the islands on the west 
 
 side of Greece — Ithaca and the adjacent group — the poet 
 
 knew some of their general characteristics. Ithaca is rugged 
 
 and rocky, as he says — suited to goats, and not to horses. 
 
 But it is not a 'low' island, and his description of its 
 
 position, relatively to its neighbours, is hard to reconcile 
 
 with the supposition that he was personally familiar with it^ 
 
 Odyssey. y. Jn the 'outer' geography of the Odyssey, we find that 
 
 geogra- ^^^ Phoenician traders are now thoroughly familiar visitors. 
 
 phy. 
 
 ^ The Asia Minor traits belong chiefly to books 2 — 7, 9, and 24. 
 River Cayster and ' Asian ' meadow (first extant trace of the name 
 'Asian'), //. 2. 461 : Icarian sea, 2. 145: Mt Sipylus, 24. 615. I 
 omit the argument of Dr Geddes (p. 281), from //. 2. 535, AoKpQv ot 
 vaiovat iriprju lepTjs Bu^oLtjs (that the poet is looking westward from 
 Ionia), because this occurs in the Catalogue, which, as plainly of 
 Boeotian origin, I should distinguish from book 2. i — 483. 
 2 Qd^ '^' \*li vwivepde 'Kioto, Trap' rjuefxSevTa Mlfj-aj^ra. 
 » Od. 6. 162. 
 
 ^ Od. 19. 177. Aw/ji^es re TpLxouKes, usually explained as 'divided 
 into three tribes;' but perhaps rather 'with waving locks (or crests)', 
 fr. 6pl^, and dta-a-w (rt. ai/c), as Mr Monro thinks : cp. Kopvddl'^, rroXvdl'^. 
 6 Od. II. 581. 
 
 * Ithaca is distinctly placed to the wesi of Cephallenia (Sa/i??) and 
 far apart from it {Od. 9. 25 f.). Ithaca is really to the north-east of 
 Cephallenia, and is divided from it only by a narrow strait. Then 
 Cephallenia is said to form a group, apart from Ithaca, with Zacynthus 
 (Zante !), and Dulichium — which Mr Bunbury identifies with Leucadia 
 (Santa Maura) : Anc. Geo. i. 69. (I agree with Mr W. G. Clark, 
 Peloponn. p. 206, that Santa Maura is much too small, and not in the 
 right position for Dulichium.) The best description of Ithaca in relation 
 to Homer is to be found in Mr W. J. Stillman's papers, ' On the Track 
 of Ulysses,' in the Century Magazine for Sept. and Oct., 1884. See 
 also Bunbury, Anc. Geo. i. 68, 83. 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 45 
 
 Voyages to Egypt seem also familiar, though 'the river 
 Egyptus' is the only name for the Nile. The 'swart-faces' 
 of the Iliad are thus far more defined, that the Odyssey 
 knows two divisions of them — eastern and western Aethio- 
 pians. Libya is named for the first time. The 'Sicilians^' 
 are mentioned; and in the last book (which has been 
 regarded as a later addition to the poem) we find 'Sicania"' 
 (an older name for 'Sicily'). Odysseus, on sailing from 
 Troy, is first driven to the land of the Cicones on the 
 coast of Thrace, and then crosses the Aegean to Cape Malea 
 (the S.E. point of the Peloponnesus); hence he is driven 
 out to sea by evil winds. From that moment, till he Wander- 
 finally reaches Ithaca, his wanderings belong to the realm J^|^ "* 
 of fancy. The 'Lotus-eaters' were doubtless suggested to — imagi- 
 the poet by sailors' stories of a tribe on the north-coast of ^^"^y* 
 Africa who lived chiefly on the fruit of the lotus-tree ^ 
 Scylla and Charybdis were suggested by a rumour of perils 
 run by mariners in the straits of Messina*. Further than 
 this we cannot go. When the early Corinthian settlers in 
 Corcyra became skilful seamen, they set up the claim that 
 Corcyra was the Homeric home of the seafaring Phaeacians. 
 This was the common creed of the old world, and still lives 
 
 1 St/ceXot, Od. 20. 383 (in 24. 211 etc. the old attendant of Laertes 
 is a Si/ceXij). 
 
 2 2t/ca;'t77 Od. 24. 307. The 'ZiKavol were early immigrants from 
 Iberia, koX o-tt avrCiv 'LiKdvia rbre ij vrjaos e/caXeiTo, Trpbrepov TpivaKpia 
 Ka\ovp.ivr} (Thuc. 6. 2), The St/ceXof were later immigrants from 
 Italy. 
 
 2 Od. 9. 82 fif. Her. 4. 177. Scylax {Periplus no) places them near 
 the lesser Syrtis (Gulf of Khabs). Polybius 12. 2 describes the lotus 
 {rhamnus lotus) from personal knowledge as yielding a fruit which, 
 when prepared, resembled the fig or date, — and also as yielding 
 wine. 
 
 ■* Thuc. 4. 24 ■^ /iera^i) ' P7j7^ou ^dXacr era Ka.\^lea(Ty]vr]%...iaTivr\^6.pv^hi% 
 KkriBelaa. tovto — owing, as he says, to the dangerous eddies andcurrcnis. 
 Admiral Smyth has described these {The Mediterranean, pp. 178 — 182) : 
 cp. Bunbury, Afic. Geo. i. 61, who remarks that 'anything in the nature 
 of a whirlpool ' has ever been subject to exaggeration — instancing the 
 Norwegian Maelstrom and the Corrievrechan in the Hebrides. 
 
polity. 
 
 46 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 in Corfu'. But even this has no real warrant from Homer. 
 The Odyssey knows *Thesprotia/ the part of southern 
 Epeirus over against Corcyra, yet never names it in con- 
 nection with Scheria, the land (never called the island) of 
 the Phaeacians. It is futile to aim at mapping out the voy- 
 age of Odysseus as definitely as 'the voyage of Magellan or 
 Sum- Vasco de Gama^' The whole impression left by the 
 "^^■^y- Odyssey is that a poet, who himself knew only the Aegean 
 zone, wove into imaginary wanderings some touches derived 
 from stories of the western Mediterranean brought by 
 Phoenician traders, who had reached the south of Spain as 
 early as about iioo b.c.^ 
 Homeric 8. Not a word in Homer shows acquaintance with the 
 
 great monarchies on the Euphrates or the Tigris. The names 
 of Assyria and Babylon are never heard. Civilisation, outside 
 of the Aegean, is represented solely by Egypt and Phoeni- 
 cia^. Remembering the despotic character of kingship in 
 the oriental empires — that character which Herodotus has 
 so graphically depicted in Xerxes — we cannot fail to be 
 impressed by the contrast which the Homeric world reveals. 
 Here, as in the East, monarchy is the prevalent form of 
 government. But it is a monarchy which operates mainly 
 
 1 Thuc. i. 25. Canoni Bay in Corfu (so called from the cannon 
 mounted there) is shown as the spot where Odysseus met Nausicaa 
 (' Chrysida,' in the local version). 
 
 2 Bunbury, Anc. Geo. i. 50, whose remarks on this subject are 
 judicious. Almost all the fabulous tribes and places of the poem have 
 been prosaically localised. Thus: — the land of the Cyclopes = Sicily 
 (Eur. Cyclops assumes this): Laestrygones = Sicily (Greek view), 
 or = Formiae in Campania (Roman view): isle of Aeolus = Stromboli 
 (one of the ' Aeoliae insulae,' or Lipari group) : isle of Calypso = Gaudos 
 (Gozo, close to Malta on the N. E.) : Circe's isle = the promontory (!) of 
 Circeii on the Italian coast — &c. 
 
 3 Cp. Bunbuiy, Anc. Geo. i. 6 fi. 
 * In Od. II. 520 haipoL KTjretoi (z'. /. k7]5€lol) fall at Troy with 
 
 Eurypylus. These comrades of the Mysian hero have been rashly 
 claimed as Hittites by some ingenious writers. It is hardly necessary 
 to observe that the name 01 that people (the IT/iila of the Egyptian 
 monuments) would not appear in Greek as K^retoi. 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 
 
 47 
 
 by reasonable persuasion, appealing to force only in the 
 last resort. Public questions are brought before the whole 
 body of those whom they concern. The king has his duties 
 no less than his privileges. At this early age — while in 
 each non-Hellenic monarchy 'all were slaves but one*' — ■ 
 the Hellenes have already reached the conception of a 
 properly political life. 
 
 9. ' Basileus V ' leader of the people,' ' duke,' is the title King, 
 of the royal office. It includes 'chiefs' or 'kings' of different 
 relative rank: thus Agamemnon, the suzerain, is 'most 
 royaP.' Every basileus rules by right hereditary and 
 divine : Zeus has given the sceptre to his house. The 
 distinguishing epithet of the Homeric kings, ^Z^MS-fiiirtiired^' 
 (otorpet^T;?) means generally, 'upheld and enlightened by 
 Zeus,' but is further tinged with the notion of the king's 
 
 ^ Eur. Hel. 276 to. ^ap^dpcou yap douXa iroLVTa ir\riv ivos: whereas 
 the early Greek monarchies were founded on consent {eKovaiai., as Arist. 
 Po/. 3. 10. 1 1 says). 
 
 2 Curtius would derive it from rt. /3a and Ion. \ey = Xao (cp. Aevrv- 
 X'^Srjs), a compound like 2T7j<rt-%o/)os : cp. ^ev^iXecos (Soph. fr. 129 
 Nauck), t^ VTre^evy/xivot dalv ol Xaoi. [Eustathius says, p. 401. 11, 
 leu^/Xecos etpTjrai. wapd roh fxed' "Ofxripov 6 ^aaiXevs.] Another deriv. from 
 /3a and Xei;=Xafa (Xaas), 'one who mounts a stone,' refers to the 
 Teutonic and Celtic custom that the king should show himself to the 
 people on a high stone — a custom not proved for early Greece. See 
 Curt. £tjfm. § 535 (5th ed., Eng. tr. by Wilkins and England, 1886, 
 vol. I. p. 439). 
 
 ^ //. 9. 69, the only instance of /Sao-iXeuraros. The compar. jSaacXeu- 
 repos occurs only thrice in //., (9. 160, 392 : 10. 239), and once in Od. 
 15' 533' While /3a(riXeus is always a ////<?, like 'duke,' dfa^ in Homer 
 is a descriptive epithet, like 'noble.' Mr Gladstone {Homeric Studies, 
 
 1. 543) holds that the formula dva^ dvbpuv is applied only io patriarchal 
 chiefs— i.e. to ^aaiXijes who were also heads of ruling families or clans. 
 It seems hard to make this out. The formula is used of i. Agamemnon: 
 
 2. Anchises: 3. Aeneas: 4. Augeias: 5. Euphetes: 6. Eumelus. I 
 
 would suggest a metrical reason. Every one of these names = | ; 
 
 hence, in the Homeric hexameter, dva^ dvdpCov u'as a peculiarly con- 
 venient introduction for them; and, out of some 50 places where the 
 formula occurs, it precedes the 2nd half of the 5th foot in all but on?' 
 {11. I. 7). 
 
48 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 descent from a god or demi-god. The king is (i) leader in 
 war, (2) supreme judge, (3) president of the council and of 
 the popular assembly. (4) In public sacrifices, as head of 
 the state, he takes the same part which the head of a family 
 takes in private sacrifice. But he has not otherwise a 
 sacerdotal quality \ A demesne (refxevo^) is assigned to 
 him from the public land^ and he discharges functions of 
 public hospitality. 
 Dike and ic Homer has no word for *law^.' The word c/i/:^ 
 themis. ('justice') means *a way pointed out,' and so tlie 'course 
 which usnge prescril^es*.' The word //lemis, again, means, 
 *what has been laid down,' i.e., first, a decision in a par- 
 
 ^ Aristotle {^Politics 3. 14. 12, speaking of the kings of the heroic 
 age): Kvpioi h' r\(jav ttjs re Kara irdXefiou T^yefxavias Kal tQu dvaiuji', ocrai 
 txij lepaTLKai {i.e. sacrifices requiring a priest acquainted with special 
 rites — like those of the Eumolpidae), Kal irpbt tovtois rds dUas ?Kpivov. 
 The sacrificial function alone (he adds) remained associated with the 
 name of 'king' in most Greek states (as in the case of the archon basileus 
 at Athens) ; while at Sparta the military function was left to the 'kings'. 
 Cp. Thuc. I. 13 ^TTt pi]ro'is yipacTi TrarpiKal jSacrtXetat. 
 
 ^ In an interesting paper on 'The Homeric Land System ' {Joiirn. 
 Hellcn. Stud. vi. 319), Prof W. Ridgeway holds that the Homeric 
 poems indicate the 'Common-Field' system of agriculture, — the public 
 land being portioned out, in temporary tenure, among the members 
 of the community, while the hereditary king's r^/xevos was an ex- 
 ceptional instance of property in land. He shows that 7roXi'\'^tos = rich 
 in \7]is (live stock, as opp. to inanimate KTrjixara), not in Xrjiov (standing 
 corn); and explains the term oZpa {-np-Lovuv, ^owv, It. 10. 351) as 
 an ancient unit of land-measure, — viz., the distance between the first 
 and last furrows of a day's ploughing. But it is more difficult to 
 assume that mi^vv^^ hv dpovpr) [Jl, 12. 422) means the public field 
 of a community. It seems rather to mean simply a field in which 
 the holdings of the two disputants were conterminous. 
 
 ^ Homer has only voixos (pasture), never v6p.os. 
 
 * Curt. Etym. § 14. The use of Ukti as ='way,' 'fashion' (cp. 
 the adverbial hiK't]v) occurs in Od. (as 11. 218 dW oJctt] biKt] earl ^poTQv). 
 The plur. in Horn. = 'judgments,' as //. 16. 543 os AvkLtju eipvro diKrjai 
 re Kal adive'C ^. In Od. 9. 215, which describes the savage Cyclops as 
 o\!T€ diKas ev eiSora ovre d^/xiaras, the former = 'dooms,' while 
 the latter has ils derived sense, precepts of justice. Cp. Maine, 
 Ancient Law, ch. i. 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 49 
 
 ticular case, *a doom'; then, the custom founded on 
 former dooms. The plural '■ theinistes' denotes a body of 
 such precedents. The Homeric king is entrusted by Zeus 
 with ' themistes ' in the sense that he upholds those judicial 
 precedents on which the rights of his people rest. A bad 
 king is one who gives 'crooked judgments'.' The Council Council. 
 {/3ov\y]) consists of a small number of ' elders,' whom the 
 king convenes for the purpose of laying business before 
 them^ The Assembly (dyop-q) includes all the free men Agora. 
 of the realm. 
 
 1 1. The I/i'ad describes the life of a Greek camp. The /Izad. 
 Council is there composed of a few prominent chiefs 
 or kings, who hold the same relation to the suzerain, 
 Agamemnon, as local elders to a local king. The Assem- 
 bly is the body of the fighting men ; the chiefs speak before 
 it, and the Assembly expresses its sense by shouts or 
 murmurs. 
 
 The Odyssey describes civil life in a society partly Odyssey. 
 deranged by the ten years' absence of its heads at Troy. 
 In some respects the monarchical system of the Iliad might 
 seem to be undergoing a change, (i) Though the hereditary 
 principle is still acknowledged in the Odyssey, there are 
 hints that it is less absolute and inviolable^ (2) The Agora 
 
 ^ Zeus has given into the king's keeping (XKrjTrTpov r rfik Qe[xi0Ta.% 
 {II. 9. 99). The judges uphold judgments by the authority of Zeus — 
 8LKa(Tir6\oi, o'Ctc d^jJ-LCTTas \ Trpbs Alos elpvarai, II. i. ^sS. Corrupt rulers: 
 //. 16. 387 ol ^iy eiv dyopy cr/coXtds Kpivwai d^fxiffras, | e/c 5^ oiktjv 
 eXdawaL, dedv Bttlv ovk dX^yovres. 
 
 ^ Gladstone, No7?i. Stud. ill. 98 : ' Upon the whole, the BouX?? seems 
 to have been a most important auxiliary element of government ; some- 
 times as preparing materials for the more public deliberations of the 
 Assembly, sometimes intrusted, as a kind of executive committee, with 
 its confidence; always as supplying the Assemblies with an intellectual 
 and authoritative element, in a concentrated form, which might give 
 steadiness to its tone, and advise its course with a weight equal to so 
 important a function.' In //. 9. 70 ff. we have an instance of a question 
 referred to a council of y^povresy as to a committee, after an dyop-q. 
 
 ^ The suitors assume that Odysseus is dead {Od. 2. 183); the 
 hereditary claim of Telemachus is admitted (i. 387 6' tol yeverj Trarpwidv 
 
 J. 4 
 
50 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 seems a less passive body than in the Iliad. It appears 
 
 as an effective organ of civic discussion \ But the evidence 
 
 on these points is very slender; and allowance must be 
 
 made for the special conditions presupposed by the subject 
 
 of the Odyssey. 
 
 Homeric 12. The basis of Homeric religion is the feeling that 
 religion. , ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ , ^^^_ ^_ ^g^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ 
 
 gods are quickly responsive to this need, if they are duly 
 worshipped. Sacrifice and prayer are the appointed means 
 of seeking their help, or appeasing their anger. The Homeric 
 sense of the divine placability is well expressed in the 
 words of the aged knight Phoenix to the implacable 
 Achilles (77. 9. 496 ff.) : 'Achilles, tame thy high spirit; 
 neither beseemeth it thee to have a ruthless heart. Nay, 
 even the very gods can bend, and theirs withal is loftier 
 Sacrifice, majesty and honour and might. .Their hearts by incense 
 and reverent vows and drink-offering and burnt-offering 
 men turn with prayer, so oft as any transgresseth and 
 Sin and doeth wrong.^ Moreover Prayers (Airat) are daughters 
 Prayer. q£ ^^ great* Zeus, halting and wrinkled and of eyes 
 askance, that have their task withal to go in the steps 
 of Ate^. For Ate is strong and fleet of foot, where- 
 fore she far outrunneth all prayers, and goeth before them 
 over all the earth, doing hurt to men ; and Prayers follow 
 behind to heal the harm.' The loftiest forms which human 
 prayer to Heaven assumes in Homer are seen when 
 
 k(jTiv)\ and yet the suitor Antinous hopes {ib. 386) that Zeus will 
 not 'make Telemachus king'. Mr Gladstone remarks {Rom. Stud. iii. 
 51) that this seems to imply the need of some formal act, 'either ap- 
 proaching to election, or in some way involving a voluntary act on the 
 part of the subjects or a portion of them.' 
 
 1 In Od. 2 Telemachus appeals to the Agora of the Ithacans to 
 vindicate his rights, and a debate takes place. In Od. 24. 420 ff. it is 
 debated by the Ilhacans in the Agora whether the suitors shall be 
 avenged. 
 
 - oiT-q (ddw) is 'hurt' (done to the mind). Cp. Milton, Samson 1676, 
 'among them He a spirit of phrenzy sent, | Who hurt their minds', 
 "Art} is the power which infatuates men (sometimes, as a punishment for 
 insolence) so that they become reckless in offending the gods. 
 
 V 
 
CH. II. J THE HOMERIC WORLD. 5 I 
 
 Hector, going out to war, prays to all the gods that a 
 noble life may be in store for his infant son (//. 6. 476); 
 and where Achilles prays to 'Zeus, lord of Dodona, Pehs- 
 gian, dwelling afar,' that his comrade Patroclus may return 
 safe from the fight (//. 16. 233). In sacrifice, as in prayer, 
 the Homeric man ordinarily communes with the gods 
 directly, not through priests. The priest {lepevs:), as dis- Priests, 
 tinguished from the soothsayer (/xaVns), never appears in 
 Homer save as the guardian of a local shrine'. 
 
 13. In later Greek poetry Fate is sometimes definitely Fate. 
 opposed, and superior, to the will of the gods. This is 
 never the case in Homer. Fate and the gods appear as 
 concurrent and usually harmonious agencies ; there is no 
 attempt to separate them distinctly, or to define precisely 
 the relation in which they stand to each other. , The idea of 
 Fate is expressed chiefly by two words, both meaning 
 ' portion,' — ato-a and jxoZpa. The personified ATo-a weaves 
 the thread of a mortal's destiny, and assigns it to him 
 at birth. Like ato-a, /xotpa may be either good or evil; 
 but the personified Motpa is' regularly associated with the 
 Death-god, Thanatos^ Two other words denote the death- 
 doom ; TTOTfjLos (' what falls to one '), and K-rjp (' destruction') ; 
 the personified K-rjo (sometimes plural) is the goddess who 
 brings a violent death, especially in battle. The 'three Fates' 
 are a post-Homeric conception, found first in Hesiod^ 
 
 The Erinyes in Homer are avenging powers who up- Erinyes. 
 
 ^ Such was the priest of Apollo at Chryse in the Troad (//. i. 37); 
 the priest of Hephaestus in the Troad (//. 5. 10), — the priest of Apollo 
 at Ismarus in Thrace {Od. 9. 198), etc. There are only two places 
 where Homer speaks of 'priests' in the plur. : (i) //. 9. 575, where the 
 Aetolians send Oecop ieprjas dpicrTovs to implore help from Meleager — i.e. 
 priests of the chief local shrines : (2) //. 24. 221 77 olfrnvrUs elai Ovockooi, 
 77 iepoes, where special rites are in view. In //. 16. 234 the Selli at Do- 
 dona are not called iep^es, but virocp^Tai of Zeus, the declarers of his will. 
 
 - In //. 24. 209 Moipa is the weaver of a death-doom. 
 
 2 Theog. 218. Plural 'Fates' occur only in //. 24. 49 tXtjtov yap 
 "Mo'cpat dvp-ov decrav dvdpwiroL(nv. In Od. 7. 197 ireiaeTai dcraa oi alja 
 Kara. k\u>6^s (v. 1. KaraKkGidis) re ^apelai \ yecvo/xevcp vr^aavTO Xivif, these 
 'spinners' are merely 'the half-personified agency of alaa,' as Mr 
 
 4—2 
 
52 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 hold the right, alike among gods and among men. They 
 
 punish all crimes against the family ; especially they execute 
 
 the curses of injured parents on children. They do not 
 
 allow the aged or the poor to be wronged with impunity. 
 
 They bring retribution for perjury. In a word, they are the 
 
 sanctions of natural law. The immortal steed Xanthus, 
 
 suddenly endued with human speech by the goddess Hera, 
 
 spoke to Achilles, and revealed his doom ; then ' the 
 
 Erinyes stayed his voice' (//. 19. 418). 
 
 The gods 14. As compared with the Iliad^ the Odyssey shows a 
 
 '"J^^^ somewhat more spiritual conception of the divine agency. 
 
 The vivid physical image of Olympus and the Olympian 
 
 court, as the Iliad presents it; has become more etherial. It 
 
 is a far-off place, ' where, as they say, is the seat of the gods 
 
 that standeth fast for ever. Not by winds is it shaken, nor 
 
 ever wet with rain, nor doth the snow come nigh thereto, 
 
 but most clear air is spread about it cloudless, and the 
 
 white light floats over it. Therein the blessed gods 
 
 are glad for all their days' {Od. 6. 42 ff.). 'The gods, in 
 
 the likeness of strangers from far countries, put on all 
 
 manner of shapes, and wander through the cities, beholding 
 
 the violence and the righteousness of men' {Od. 17. 485). 
 
 Divine The gods of the Iliad most often show their power on 
 
 agency ^^ bodies or the material fortunes of man ; it is com- 
 
 more . ^ 
 
 spiritual, paratively seldom that they guide his mind, by inspiring 
 
 a thought at a critical moment. In the Odyssey the latter 
 
 form of divine agency becomes more prominent. 'When 
 
 Athene, of deep counsel, shall put it into my heart, I will 
 
 nod to thee,' says Odysseus to his son {Od. 16. 282). 
 
 Faith in their help has become a more spiritual feeling. 
 
 ' Consider whether Athene with Father Zeus will suffice for 
 
 us twain, or whether I shall cast about for some other 
 
 champion.' 'Verily,' Telemachus answers, 'the best of 
 
 champions are these two thou namest, though high in the 
 
 Merry remarks ; comparing, as other examples of personification 
 stopping short of mythology, dpirviac, the personified storm-winds 
 {0(^. I. 245), and Kparads (Od. \2. 124). 
 
CH, II. J THE HOMERIC WORLD. 53 
 
 clouds is their seat' {ib. 260 ff.). While the notion of the Other 
 gods has been thus far spiritualised, the notion of the ^°™^ 
 supernatural generally takes many fantastic forms \ associated super- 
 with that outer Wonderland, beyond the Aegean zone, of"^^""^^^' 
 which sailors had brought stories. It is here that we find 
 those beings or monsters who are neither gods nor men — 
 Calypso, Circe, Fo^fieEus, Proteus, Aeolus, Scylla, the 
 Sirens. "^ 
 
 15. The Homeric notions of right and wrong have a Homeric 
 simplicity answering to that of the religion, but are strongly ^^'^^^^• 
 held. They begin with the inner circle of the family. The The 
 ties of the family are sacred in every relation, — between ^' 
 husband and wife, parent and child, kinsman and kinsman. 
 Polygamy is not found among Greeks. The picture of the 
 Trojan Hector and Andromache in the Iliad — the pictures 
 of Menelaus and Helen, Alcinous and Arete, above all, 
 Odysseus and Penelope, in the Odyssey — attest a pure and 
 tender conception of conjugal affection. The prayer of 
 Odysseus for the maiden Nausicaa is this : — ' May the gods 
 grant thee all thy heart's desire: a husband and a home, 
 and a mind at one with his may they give — a good gift, for 
 there is nothing mightier and nobler than when man and 
 v/ife are of one heart and mind in a house' {fid. 6. 180 ff.). 
 Dependents of the family are included in the recognised 
 duty of kindness and help. So are those who have a claim • 
 
 ^ E.g. the herb *moly', given by Hermes to Odysseus as a charm 
 against Circe's evil spells {Od. 10. 302) ; the 'imperishable veil' of Ino, 
 which saved Odysseus from drowning (z/^. 5. 346); the flesh 'bellowing 
 on the spits', when the oxen of the Sun were being roasted by the com- 
 panions of Odysseus {ib. 12. 395); the Phaeacian ship suddenly turned to 
 stone {ib. 13. 163}; the second-sight of the seer Theoclymenus, when he 
 forebodes the death of the suitors (compared by Mr Lang to the visions 
 of Bergthora and Njal in the Story of Burjtt Njal ii. 167) : — 'Shrouded 
 in night are your heads and your faces and your knees, and kindled is 
 the voice of wailing, and all cheeks are wet with tears, and the walls 
 and the fair beams of the roof are sprinkled with blood' {Od. 
 20. 351 ff.). In the Iliad the nearest analogies to such marvels are the 
 speaking horse (19. 407), the self-moving tripods of Hephaestus (18. 376), 
 and his golden handmaids, who can move, speak and think {ib. 418). 
 
54 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 Strangers on hospitality : ' for all strangers and beggars are from Zeus ' 
 Tian^s^" (6>^. 6. 208). The suppliant (ikctt;?) must be protected, 
 even when he seeks refuge from the consequences of 
 blood-shed (//. 16. 573); for the Zeus of Suppliants has 
 him in keeping i^Od. 13. 213), and will punish wrong done 
 to him (//. 24. 570). 
 Slavery. 16. Slavery in Homer wears a less repulsive aspect than 
 
 in later periods of antiquity. It is the doom for prisoners 
 of war, however noble their birth: and instances are also 
 mentioned of children, belonging to good families, being 
 kidnapped by pirates or merchants {Od. 15. 403 ff.). It is 
 recognised as an awful calamity : ' Zeus takes away the half 
 of his manhood from a man, when the day of slavery over- 
 takes him' {Od. 17. 322). But the very feeling for human 
 dignity which this implies may have helped to temper the 
 slave's lot. The Odyssey furnishes examples of devotedly 
 attached slaves, and there is no Homeric instance of a cruel 
 master. Homeric slavery seems to be domestic only, the 
 slave being employed in the house or on the land : we do 
 not hear of serfs bound to the soiP. Besides the slaves 
 (8/xaJe?) there are also free hired labourers (6'f7Te?: Od. 4. 644). 
 Limit 17. Themis, the custom established by dooms, acts as 
 
 sphere of ^ restraining force within the largest circle of recognised 
 themis. relationships. But outside of that circle — when the Greek 
 has to do with a mere alien — themis ceases to act, and 
 we are in an age of violence. Excommunication, political 
 and social, is expressed by the form, 'outside of clan, 
 custom, and hearth'". The life of a man-slayer was for- 
 feit to the kinsmen of the slain, who might, however, 
 accept a fine {Troivt]) as satisfaction. Speaking generally, 
 ^ In Od. 2. 489, indeed, iirdpovpos has been taken as = adscrip^zis 
 glebae; but it need not be more than an epithet describing the par- 
 ticular kind of work on which the ^vjs was employed. 
 
 ^ //. 9. 63 a(ppr]T03p, dOe/xtaros, dvi<XTL0S. Hence, and from 2, 362 f., 
 I had inferred that, above the Homeric family, was the unity of the 
 clan {(ppvTpv), and then of the tribe {(pvXop): ist ed., p. 54. But 
 I grant that such a relationship cannot be proved for the Homeric age. 
 Homer knows no gentile sacra. 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 55 
 
 we may say that the Homeric Greeks appear as a gentle 
 and generous race in a rude age. There is no trace among 
 the Homeric Greeks of oriental vice or cruelty in its worst 
 forms. Their sense of decency and propriety is remarkably 
 fine — even in some points in which their descendants 
 were less delicate. If the Homeric man breaks themis Aidos. 
 in any way, he feels that others will disapprove. This 
 feeling is called aidos. Hence, therefore, aidos has as 
 many shades of meaning as there are ways in which themis 
 can be broken; — 'sense of honour,' 'shame,' 'reverence,' 
 etc. And the feeling with which he himself regards a Nemesis, 
 breach of themis by another person is called ne7?iesis, — 
 righteous indignation. The Odyssey, in comparison with Odyssey 
 the Iliad^ shows more traces of reflection on questions of ^j^^//^-^^^ 
 right and wrong. There are some additions to the stock of 
 words for expressing the religious or moral feelings ^ 
 
 18. The civihsation based on these ideas and feelings The Ho- 
 was very unlike that of the later Greek world. The Homeric nsatk)n!^^* 
 man already exhibits, indeed, the clear-cut Greek type of 
 humanity : he has its essential qualities, mental and moral. 
 But all his surroundings bespeak an age of transition. 
 Crude contrasts abound. Luxuries and splendours of an 
 eastern cast are mingled with elements of squalid barbarism. 
 Manners of the noblest chivalry and the truest refinement 
 are strangely crossed by traits of coarseness or ferocity. 
 There are moments when the Homeric hero is almost a 
 savage". 
 
 ^ Thus the following words occur in the Odyssey, but not in the 
 Iliad: — (i) a-yv-q, epithet of Artemis, of Persephone, and of a festival, 
 ioprrj : (2) 6<jl-q, 'piety' (the only part of oVtos found in either poem) : (3) 
 deovbrjs, 'god-fearing', as epithet of voos or 6v/m6s: (4) vornjLwv (found in 
 //. only as a proper name), = ' right-minded' (always with Skatos), — 
 nearly = the later adxppuiv, which does not occur in Homer. The word 
 bUaios is frequent in the Odyssey, while the Iliad has only the superlative 
 (once) and the comparative (twice), but the positive nowhere. 
 
 2 Thus the Homeric man, even the noblest, is liable to savage out- 
 bursts of fury, — like that in which the IMacedonian Alexander slew his 
 friend Cleitus, — though not, as in that case, kindled by wine. Patroclua 
 
56 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 Archaeo- 19. Homer gives some general notion of the extent to 
 ^"SV^^^ which the useful and ornamental arts had been developed; 
 and in some points this literary evidence can now be sup- 
 plemented by evidence from monuments of archaeology ^ 
 The poet naturally assumes that his hearers are familiar 
 with the products to which he refers. Hence the in- 
 dications which he gives are often slight. Nor can any 
 real help be derived from the scenes depicted on vases 
 or reliefs of the classical Greek age, which clothe 
 Homeric life in the garb of the sixth or fifth century B.C. 
 The only monuments which can be trusted for the 
 illustration of Homer are those of an earliei date. As 
 the Homeric poems show, the field over which such 
 testimony may be sought is a wide one. Agamemnon 
 received a breast-plate from the king of Cyprus. Menelaus 
 received a mixing-bowl from the king of Sidon. Helen's silver 
 work-basket on wheels came from Egyptian Thebes. A Phoe- 
 nician merchant showed a necklace of amber and gold to the 
 mother of Eumaeus. Priam offered Achilles a Thracian cup ^ 
 Use of 20. The power of working stone is implied in the 
 
 Homeric mention of mill-stones, quoits, and sepulchral 
 
 slnu the son of Amphidamas ' in wrath over a game of knuckle-bones' 
 (//. 23. 88). Achilles, the very embodiment of chivalry, fears lest the 
 wild beast within him should leap forth, and he should slay Priam — the 
 aged and helpless king, his guest, and his suppliant {//. 24. 568 — 586). 
 
 ^ This evidence has been brought into relation with the evi- 
 dence of the Homeric text by Dr W. Helbig in his compact and 
 com prehensi ve work, Das Honierische Epos aits den Denkmdlem erliiutert 
 (Leipzig, Teubner, 1884), 
 
 - The chief sources of archaeological evidence for Homer are discussed 
 by Helbig, pp. i — 59. They are (i) Phoenician: (2) archaic Greek and 
 Italian : {3) Northern — e.g., an archaic bronze hydria has been found at 
 Giachwyl in Switzerland. In the Aegean zone, the chief groups of 
 relevant 'finds' have been at i. Hissarlik: 2. Thera: 3. lalysos in 
 Rhodes: 4. Mycenae (where Helbig would put the remains before the 
 Dorian conquest, — i.e. earlier than circ. iioo B.C. — but not /^«^ before 
 the Homeric times): 5. Spata in Attica: 6. The Dipylon at Athens, 
 where — in graves of a later age [circ. 700—500 B.C.) than the five pre- 
 ceding groups — vases have been found with designs more nearly Homeric 
 than any others known, — though the ships depicted are un-Homeric in 
 one point, as having beaks (which do not occur before 800 — 700 B.C. : 
 PP- 54—59)- 
 
 stone. 
 
CH. II.J THE HOMERIC WORLD. 57 
 
 slabs {(TTf/Xat). The chambers in Priam's palace are 
 built of 'polished stone'; and so is Circe's house (Od. 
 10. 210). But the use of wood in house-building of the 
 humbler sort was probably more general than that of stone. 
 Homer nowhere mentions stone statues, or figure-sculpture 
 on stone. He knows no treatment of stone for decorative 
 purposes beyond hewing and polishing (denoted by the 
 word ^€crTos)\ 
 
 2 1. The house of the Homeric chief is most clearly exem- The 
 plified by the house of Odysseus \ the general arrangement J^omenc 
 of which is shown in the accompanying plan^. It was sur- 
 rounded by a high and massive stone wall, probably of 
 the rude and irregular structure known as 'Cyclopean'. 
 In this defensive wall there was only one opening, viz. the 
 front gate, with large and solid folding-doors. Outside 
 the wall, on each side of the gate, stone seats were 
 placed. On passing through this gateway (irpoOvpov) in 
 the outer wall, the visitor found himself in a court-yard 
 {avXij, €pKos). This was open to the air. It was not paved. The 
 It was, in fact, like a farm -yard, and quite as dirty ^ Small ^°^^ 
 chambers {BdXafxoL), built at the sides of the court-yard, 
 against the outer wall, served as farm-buildings, as sleeping- 
 rooms for male slaves, and sometimes even for members of 
 the family*. In the midst of the court-yard stood the altar 
 of ' Zeus of the Court ' (Zeus Herkeios), the symbol of 
 domestic unity ^ 
 
 22. Standing at the front gate, where he entered, The 
 the visitor sees a portico, supported by pillars, run- ^^^husa 
 ning along the inner side of the court-yard, opposite to domus. 
 
 1 Helbig, pp. 71—73. 
 
 - Based on that given by Mr John Protodikos in his essay De 
 Aedibus Homericis (Leipsic, 1877). 
 
 ■* Argos, the dog of Odysseus, lay on a huge dung-heap in the court- 
 yard of the house {Od. 17. 297). 
 
 ^ In two cases, at least, an unmarried son of the house has a 6aXa/j.os 
 in the avXij — Phoenix (//. 9. 471 ff.) and Telemachus {Od. 19. 48). 
 
 5 Od. 22. 3^4: here the master of the house offered sacrifice. In 
 Soph. AnL 487 6 Tras Ze()s 'Ep/ce?os= 'the whole family.' 
 
58 
 
 HOMEK. 
 
 CH. II. 
 
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 The Homeric House of the Odyssey. 
 
 (7rpoSo/>tos) or 'fore-hall/ as being immediately in front 
 of the great hall, to which it served as a kind of vestibule. 
 Hence aethusa and prodomus are sometimes used con- 
 vertibly ; as when a person who sleeps under the aethusa is 
 said to sleep in the prodomus. Guests, even of high 
 distinction, were sometimes lodged there for the night \ 
 
 ^ As Telemachus and Peisistratus, in the house of Menelaus at 
 Sparta. Helen orders beds to be prepared for them v-w aldouaj] [Od. 4. 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 5^ 
 
 The term * aethusa ' itself was a general one, being merely 
 the epithet of a portico which is open to the sun's rays 
 (at^eiv). Another portico, similar to that of the pro- 
 dojjius, ran along the opposite side of the court, on each 
 side of the gateway (TrpoOvpov), and, sometimes at least, 
 along the two other sides of the court also, which then had 
 a colonnade running all round it, — the pei-isiyh {Trepta-TvXov) 
 of later times. Hence the Homeric phrase, ' he drove out 
 of the gateway and the echoing portico' (//. 24. 323). 
 Hence, too, the prodovius (with its portico) can be dis- 
 tinguished from the alOovcra avXrj<5, which then means the 
 colonnade on the opposite side, or the other sides, of 
 the court (//. 9. 472 f.). 
 
 23. From the prodomiis a door led into the great hall The 
 (fiiyapov, Soj/jia). In the house of Odysseus, this door has a '^^^S^-ro"^ 
 threshold of ash (/xe'Atvos ouSo's, Od. 17. 339), while the 
 opposite door, leading from the great hall to the women's 
 apartments, has a threshold of stone (AatVo?, Od. 20. 258). 
 Each threshold, as appears from the story, was somewhat 
 raised above the level of the floor. In one of the side-walls 
 of the hall, near the upper end, was a postern {opaoOvpy]), 
 also raised above the floor, and opening on a passage ' 
 {Xavpr}) which ran along the outside of the hall, communi- 
 cating both with the court and with the back part of 
 the house. At the upper end of the hall was the 
 hearth (iaxa-pv)) ^t which all the cooking was done; for 
 the hall served both as kitchen and as dining-room. Not 
 only the guests but the retainers of the Homeric prince 
 live and eat with him in the hall, — a number of small 
 tables (one for every two persons, as a rule) being ranged in 
 it from end to end; in the house of Odysseus, upwards 
 of sixty such tables must have been in use. In this 
 respect .the home-life of the Achaean basileus resembled 
 that of the medieval baron or the Scandinavian chief. 
 
 297), and they sleep iu trpo^b^i^ {ib. 302). So aidoiarj in //. 24. 644. 
 — Trpoddficp ib. 673. If Odysseus, in his humble disguise, is fain to take 
 a rough 'shake-down' in aldovaa^ the slight is not in the place but in 
 the mode {Od. 20. i). 
 
6o HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 24. The women's part of the house was an inner court, 
 immediately beyond the great hall, with which it was in 
 direct communication by the door with the stone j^hresh- 
 The old. The women's apartments are sometimes collec- 
 ^'**°^^^ ^ tively called thalamos'^. They included the private room, 
 ments. or rooms, of the mistress of the house (to which, in 
 Penelope's case, access was given by stairs), and the work- 
 rooms of the women slaves. In the house of Odysseus, the 
 strong-room or treasury for precious possessions (6r]aavp6^), 
 and the armoury {BdXafios ottXwv), were also in this region. 
 The phrase /x-vxo? So/xov, * innermost part of the house,' is 
 sometimes so used as to indicate a part beyond the women's 
 court. Here, in the house of Odysseus, was probably the 
 chamber, built by himself, enclosing the bed of which 
 the head-post was an olive-stump (Od. 23. 192), — the 
 sign by which he finally convinced Penelope of his 
 identity ^ 
 Analogy Thus the general plan of the Homeric house is 
 Greek essentially that of the Greek house in historical times, 
 house. There is an outer court, — the Homeric azi/e, the later an- 
 
 ^ From the collective ihalamos — as a whole part of the house — dis- 
 tinguish the plur. daXaixoL, said of the small chambers against the walls 
 of the court-yard. So from mega7'on, in its special sense — the public 
 hall — distinguish iik~^apa, said of work-rooms for the women in the 
 thalamos {Od. 19. 16). 
 
 2 See Protodikos, p. 60. Some points in regard to the Odyssean 
 house remain doubtful, (i) What was the circular BoKo% in the avk-ql 
 {Od. 22. 442). Perhaps, as some of the ancients thought, and as 
 Protodikos thinks (p. 24), a ra/xie'iov, — i.e. a sort of pantry, in which 
 plates, dishes, cups, etc., were kept. (2) What were the fxSyes 
 fieydpoio? {Od. 22. 143). I have elsewhere {yourn. Hellen. Stud.) 
 given reasons for thinking that they mean the 'narrow passages,' 
 leading from the opaoOvpa to the back-part of the house. The Neo- 
 Hellenic povya is used in a like sense, and seems to be descended from 
 the Homeric word (evidently once a familiar one). The Low Latin 
 ruga (Fr. rtie) is not a probable source for it. (3) What were the 
 fxeaoofxaL? {Od. 19. 37.) Probably the main (or longitudinal) beams in 
 the roof of the megaron, while doKoi were the transverse beams ; 
 as Protodikos holds (p. 37). Buchholz {Horn. Realien, p. 109) 
 reverses the relation of doKoL and fj-eaoSjuLaL. 
 
CH. 11.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 6 1 
 
 drojiitis. There is an inner court for the women, with 
 rooms round it, — the Homeric thalamos, the later gynae- 
 conitis. And between the two there is the principal room 
 of the house, in which the host and his guests eat, — the 
 Homeric megaron or doma, the later andron^. 
 
 25. The public hall (megaron) in the house of Odysseus, Interior 
 — a typical palace, — is not floored with wood or stone. The ^"^"^^ 
 floor is merely earth trodden to hardness. There is, how- coration, 
 ever, a long raised threshold of ash-wood inside the door ^^^* 
 leading to the court-yard, and a similar threshold of stone 
 inside the door leading to the thalamos. In the megaron 
 of Alcinous, the walls are covered with plates of bronze, — 
 a mode of ornamentation which had come into the Hellenic 
 countries from Asia, and which continued to be used in the 
 East for many centuries. Traces of it appear in the 
 Treasuries of Mycenae and Orchomenus. Portions of the 
 wood-work in the Homeric palace, especially doors and 
 door-posts, may also have been overlaid with gold or silver. 
 The cyanus (/cvaj/os), which adorned the cornice in the 
 hall of Alcinous {Od. 7. 87), was formerly interpreted 
 as bronze or blue steel. But there is now little doubt that 
 it was a kind of blue glass paste, used as an artificial 
 substitute for the natural ultramarine obtained by pul- 
 verising the sapphire (lapis lazuli) ^ The brilliant effect 
 of the metallic wall-plating and other decoration in the 
 palace of Alcinous is marked by the phrase, 'a radiance 
 of the sun or of the moon' {Od. 7. 84), which is also 
 applied to the palace of Menelaus at Sparta {Od. 4. 45). 
 The poet of the Iliad, on the other hand, ascribes such 
 
 ^ With regard to the house at Tiryns, see Note at the end of the 
 book. The origin and age of that house are doubtful ; but it certainly 
 is not the Homeric house of the Odyssey. 
 
 ^ See Helbig, pp. 79 — 82. The explanation was first suggested by 
 R. Lepsius. The locus classicus is Theophrastus irepl XiOojv § 55, who 
 distinguishes the natural Kvavos (auro^uT^j), or lapis lazuli, from the 
 artificial (crKevacrTos). Fragments of an alabaster frieze, inlaid at 
 intervals with small pieces of blue glass, were found at Tiryns. 
 Their age is uncertain. 
 
6: HOMFK. [CH. 11. 
 
 docoratioi\ to r.o mortal's house — perhaps simply be- 
 cause he has no oeeasion to describe the interior of 
 a palace ; but he calls the house ol' the i;od Posei.lon 
 *goUlen\ ami tb.at ot" the god Hephaestus 'bra/eii'. Metal- 
 plating on wood or other material must be understood 
 by the epithet 'golden' or •silvern' as applied to several 
 objects in both epics. Such are the 'golden' sceptre, 
 wand, distatV, bread-basket, chair, etc; th.e 'silvern' wool- 
 basket, chest, table, etc. The hall was at once lighted 
 and warmed by large braziers (\ajiiTrr>//t)es^), — three of which 
 are brought in by the ni.iid-servants of Odysseus at night- 
 fall: they light the tires with dry taggots, and take turns in 
 watching to replenish them [OJ. 18. ^\oy). The smoke 
 from the bra.:iers and the hearth sutliced to blacken 
 the bows, speai-s. and other arms hung on the walls {df. it>. 
 JooV The outlet for the smoke may have been an opening 
 in the roof, though Homer mentions nothing of the kind\ 
 Social 26. The social mannei^ of the time, in the house of a chief 
 
 Bi.inner?. ^^j- ^|^^^ highest nvnk, may be gathered from the reception of 
 Telemachus and his friend (Nestor's son Peisistratus) at the 
 palace of ^[enelaus in Sparta. The travellers, in a chariot 
 v'.rawn by two liorsos. drive up to the outer gate of the 
 court-yard. A reiainer {('tpa-i.o\) informs the master of the 
 house, and is ordered at once to unyoke the horses, and to 
 conduct the strangers (whose n.-mes are as yet unknown") 
 into the house. Accordingly the hoi^es are stabled, and the 
 strangers are led into the great hall — which astonishes them 
 by its splendour. Thence they are ushered to Ixiths. 
 Having Kithed, anointed themselves with olive-oil and put 
 on fresh raiment, they return to the great hall, where their 
 host Menelaus receives them. They are placed on chairs 
 beside him. A hand-maid brings a silver basin and a 
 golden ewer, from which she pours water over their hands. 
 A polished table is then placed beside them. *A grave 
 ^ Such a hole or smoke-vent (lraTI^K^>«1^ Ion. for iraxro^ox?; — the 
 Attic fcdJrny or ox1;^ belongs to the earliest form of Gnieco- Roman house : 
 cp. Her. S. 137. — In cV. i. 320 cu'«>xa,a has been taken as 'up the smoke- 
 vent'; but probably it means simply ' upwards ': see Merry a.;* /a:. 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 63 
 
 dame' (the house-keeper) brings bread (in baskets), and 
 ' many dainties ' ; while a carver places on the table 
 'platters of divers kinds of flesh'', and golden bowls for 
 wine. Menelaus then invites them to eat, and, as a special 
 mark of honour, sets before them, with his own hands, a 
 roast ox-chine. He does not yet know who his guests 
 are ; but, when he mentions Odysseus in conversation, tears 
 come into the eyes of Telemachus, who raises his purple 
 mantle to hide them. 
 
 Menelaus is musing on this, when the mistress of the house 
 enters the hall"". Helen, in her radiant beauty, comes from 
 the inner, or women's, part of the house — 'the fragrant tha- 
 lamos' — attended by three hand-maids. She takes a chair, 
 to which a foot-stool is attached ; at her side a maiden places 
 a silver basket, on wheels, full of dressed yarn; and lays 
 across it a golden distaff, charged with wool of violet blue. 
 She and her lord converse with their guests until the night 
 is far spent. Then supper is served, and Helen casts into 
 the wine a soothing drug which she had brought from 
 Egypt, — 'a drug to lull all pain and anger, and bring 
 forgetfulness of every sorrow.' Presendy attendants, with 
 torches, show the two guests to their beds in the porch, — 
 
 1 In the Homeric world, fish is not mentioned as a delicacy — rather 
 it is regarded as the last resource of hunger {Od. 12. 329 ff., Od. 4. 36S). 
 The similes from fishing point to the use of fish by poor people who 
 could command no other animal food. 
 
 2 Helen in her own house at Sparta is the best example of the 
 Homeric woman's social position — as Nausicaa is the best proof that the 
 poet perfectly apprehended all that is meant by the word 'lady'. In 
 comparing the Homeric place of woman with her apparently lower place 
 in historical Greece, two things should be borne in mind, (i) The only 
 Homeric women of whom we hear much are the wives of chiefs or 
 princes, who share the position of their husbands. The women of 
 whom we hear most from the Attic writers belong to relatively poor 
 households : their social sphere is necessarily more confined. (2) The 
 intellectual progress made between 800 and 500 B.C. was for the men, 
 and only in exceptional cases for the women. The Homeric woman of 
 950 B.C. was probably a better companion for her husband than the Atuc 
 woman of 450 B.C. 
 
64 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 where bedsteads, have been set, with purple blankets, and 
 coverlets and thick mantles thereon {Od. 4. 20 — 305). 
 A con- If we contrast this picture with that of the suitors in 
 
 trast. Ithaca we feel the skill and deHcacy of the poet's touch. In 
 the house of Menelaus, Homer presents a scene of noble and 
 refined hospitality; in the invaded house of Odysseus he 
 means to describe a scene of coarse riot. When one of 
 the suitors snatches up an ox's foot from a basket, and 
 throws it at Odysseus — missing him, and hitting the wall 
 (Od. 20. 299 ff.) — we are not to infer that incidents of this 
 kind were characteristic of good Homeric society. 
 Homeric 27. The dress of the Homeric man is a shirt or tunic 
 dress. {chiton)^, and over that a mantle {chlaifia)- ^\N\\\Qh answers 
 to the outer garment called himatmi in the classical age. 
 The Homeric woman wears a robe {peplus) reaching to the 
 feet. On her head she sometimes wears a high, stiff coif, 
 (K€Kpv(l>aXo<;), over the middle of which passes a many- 
 coloured twisted band {TrXeKTrj dvaSiaixrjY, while a golden 
 fillet glitters at the front. Either from the coif, or directly 
 from the crown of the head, a veil {Kpxj^qxvov, Kokv-n-rp-q) 
 falls over shoulders and back. 
 
 In imagining such a scene as Helen standing on 
 the walls of Troy with Priam and the Trojan elders 
 (//. 3), the general picture (Helbig remarks) which we 
 should conceive as present to the poet's mind is one 
 dominated by the conventional forms and brilliant colours* 
 
 ^ In//. 13. 685 the'Iao^'es (probably Athenians) are called eXKexi-rojues, 
 *tunic-trailing' — i.e. wearing the long tunic which reached below the 
 knee {xtTWf TepfiioeLs). This was once worn by Dorians as well as 
 lonians, but was never the ordinary garment of daily life — being worn 
 only (i) by elders or men of rank, (c) by other persons on festal occasions. 
 The Homeric poet, when he said iXKexircoves, was perhaps thinking of 
 an Ionian festival, such as that at Delos. See Helbig, pp. ii9fif. 
 
 2 Or (pdpos, Od. 6. 214. 
 
 ^ Schliemann assumed that the TrXeKTr) dva^iaixr) was a golden 
 frontlet. Helbig points out the error (p. 158), which the word irXeKTy 
 itself refutes. A frontlet would have been dfiirv^. 
 
 ^ The Homeric vocabulary of colour marks vividly the distinction 
 between dar^ and /io-ki (or bright), but very imperfectly the distinctions 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 65 
 
 of the East, — not by the free dignity and harmonious 
 symmetry of mature Greek art. Priam and the elders of 
 Troy wear close-fitting tunics, which in some cases reach 
 to the feet — over these, red or purple mantles, which 
 fall straight and foldless, — some of them embroidered with 
 rich patterns, — the king's mantle, perhaps, with the picture 
 of a fight. Their upper lips are shaven ; they have wedge- 
 shaped beards; their hair falls over their cheeks in long 
 locks fastened with golden spirals. Helen wears a richly- 
 embroidered robe {peplus), which fits close to her form ; a 
 costly perfume breathes from it ; on her breast glitter the 
 golden brooches which fasten the peplus ; a necklace (opfMo^) 
 hangs down to her breast, — the gold forming in it a contrast 
 with the dark-red amber. On her head is the coif, with 
 glittering frontlet, and the veil falling over the shoulders \ 
 
 28. The Homeric warrior has defensive armour resembling Homeric 
 that of the heavy infantry soldier {Jioplite) of later times. ^'^"^°"^* 
 This defensive armour is an essentially Greek trait ; it is not 
 oriental. Thus the Ionian Aristagoras tells the Spartan 
 Cleomenes that the barbarians, who fight with bows and 
 short spears, go into battle wearing trousers and turbans ^ 
 The Homeric defensive panoply consists of helmet, cuirass 
 {Oiop-q^, formed of breast- plate and back-plate), greaves^ 
 belt^ shield, and lastly the 'mitra,' — a girdle of metaly 
 
 between shades of colour. Thus he says of a robe which was Kvaveov 
 that nothing was fj-eXavrepou {II. 24. 93) : though kvoh^o^ properly = dark 
 blue. He applies -xXupos both to young herbage (pale green), and ta 
 honey {zl's, 'pale,' or perh. merely 'fresh-looking'). A striking parallel 
 to his yXujpos is the Gaelic urail., as meaning (i) green of any shade, (2) 
 'flourishing,' — fresh, comely, — said of a face. Thus the character of 
 the Homeric colour-sense is in accord with the character of Homeric 
 art. The notion that 'Homer was colour-blind' has long been 
 exploded. 
 
 1 Helbig, p. 194. 
 
 2 t6|o — alx/J-V ^pax^a — dva^vpldes — Kvp^affiai (Her. 5. 49). 
 
 3 ^(ji<TT-np. The word ^uj/xa, as used in the Iliad, probably de- 
 notes a projecting rim at the bottom of the dup-q^, forming a 'waist' 
 which served to hold the ^ua-rrip in its place. In the Odyssey the fw/za 
 has a somewhat different sense, denoting a kind of broad girdle some- 
 
 J- S 
 
66 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 (or plated with metal,) protecting the body below the belt^ 
 The mitra was not included in the panoply of later days. 
 The Homeric shield is round ; but there are hinls that 
 an oblong shield was familiar at least through poetical 
 tradition ; thus the comparison of the shield of Ajax to 
 a tower (//. 7. 219, etc.) imphes that form I The Homeric 
 warrior must be imagined as a somewhat clumsier figure 
 than the classical hoplite; — his armour heavier, more 
 angular, and fitting less neatly. The war-chariot — important 
 in Homeric fights — had gone out of Greek use before 
 700 B.c/ 
 Homeric 29. The fine art of the Homeric age appears mainly as 
 ^^^' decorative art, applied to objects in daily use, such as cups 
 and other vessels, furniture, armour, or dress. A difficult, 
 but interesting, question is to estimate the actual state 
 of art with which the Homeric poems were contemporary. 
 The following is an outline of the general view which many 
 archaeologists now accept, (i) The oldest objects of art 
 found in the graves at Mycenae are older than the Dorian 
 conquest of the Peloponnesus, /.<?., older than about 
 1 1 00 B.C. Three main elements are present there; skilled 
 goldsmith's work, probably Phrygian ; work of an early 
 indigenous Greek art, best represented by decorated 
 sword-blades; and, in a much smaller degree, Phoenician 
 work. (2) This earliest period is followed by an interval 
 of some three centuries (iioo — 800 B.C.) which in Greek 
 art, as in Greek history, is almost a blank. Then, about 
 800 — 750 B.C., a revival of-urt begins in the East, and 
 is carried by Phoenicians into Greece. This revived art 
 
 times worn instead of the dwfyr)^ when a lighter equipment was re- 
 quired. 
 
 ^ In 77. 4. 187 the filrpT) is made by xa^f^es. 
 
 2 Cp. Mr W. Leaf, in j^ourn. Hdlen. Stud. iv. 283, who has 
 elucidated several points of Homeric armour. Among others, the 
 (rrpeTTTos x^T't'f of //. 5. 113 has been explained by him as a pleated 
 doublet worn under the cuirass, to protect the skin from the metal. 
 
 3 In the war-poetry of Archilochus, Alcaeus and Tyrtaeus, there is 
 no reference to the use of the ap/xa. 
 
 i 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 67 
 
 is represented especially by metal work, such as the 
 Phoenician bronze bowls in the British Museum, and by 
 pottery, such as the vases from Cameirus in Rhodes. (3) 
 The Homeric notices of art belong mainly to the interval 
 between 1100 and 800 B.C.; that is, to a period of compara- 
 tive decadence, intervening between two periods of vigour. 
 The Homeric art is nearest to the Mycenean\ but later and 
 ruder; while the influence of the eighth-century revival, if it 
 has been felt at all, is as yet only incipient. 
 
 30. The most elaborate work of art in Homer is the Shield of 
 Shield of Achilles (//. 18. 478 ff.). The central part of the ^'^^^"^^^'• 
 Shield (the ofxcfiaXos, or boss) was adorned with representa- 
 tions of earth, heaven, sea, sun, moon, and stars. The 
 outer rim of the shield represented the earth-girdling river 
 Oceanus. Between the boss and the rim, successive con- 
 centric bands displayed various scenes of human Hfe ; a 
 besieged city ; a city at peace ; ploughing ; reaping ; vin- 
 tage ; oxen attacked by lions ; sheep at pasture in a glen ; 
 youths and maidens dancing. An ingenious reconstruction 
 of the Shield, from Phoenician, Assyrian, Egyptian, and early 
 Greek sources, has been given by Mr A. S. Murray^ H e 
 observes that th e_Shield , though a gener al picture of human 
 life, gives no place to ships — an omission natural for As- 
 syrians, but strange for Greeks — nor does it include any rite 
 of Greek religious worship ^ Helbig thinks that the par- How far 
 ticular scenes depicted on the Shield had been suggested to 
 the poet by real works of art, but that the S hield a s a whole 
 is the work of his fancy. It proves the artistic feehng of the 
 poet, but belongs to an age which was not yet ripe for 
 
 ^ Thus Nestor's cup (//. 11. 632), with its two irvOfi^ves, is illus- 
 trated by some of the Mycenean cups, where the irvd/x^ves appear 
 as golden supports connecting the handles of each cup with its stem. 
 
 - History of Greek Sculpture^ ch. III. p. 44. 
 
 2 The Chest of Cypselus, described by Pausanias, was of the 7th 
 century B.C.; and on the Chest — in contrast with the Shield — the actors 
 are not nameless, but are well-known persons of Greek mythology, 
 with their names written beside them. See Murray, op. cit., pp. 
 47, 61. 
 
 c — a. 
 
 un agi- 
 nary. 
 
w 
 
 orks. 
 
 68 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 plastic expression-O^l-so-complex a_kind\ There can be no 
 doubt that the Shield as a whole is a work of the imagina- 
 tion; the only question is how for actual works of art 
 had inspired its details. One thing is certain. The poet 
 knew that different metals could be inlaid, as he represents 
 them on his Shield, so as to give variety of colour : his field 
 is of gold, his \dne-poles of silver, his fence of tin, etc. 
 Some of the bronze sword-blades found at Mycenae — one 
 of which was adorned with a lion-hunt — were overlaid with 
 a dark metallic enamel, and in this figures cut in gold 
 leaf were inserted, — the gold being artificially toned to 
 different shades". 
 Other The golden brooch {irepovrj) of Odysseus (Od. 19. 226) 
 
 represented a hound holding a fawn in his fore-paws, and 
 strangling it, while it writhed. This may have been sug- 
 gested by a real work of art. The animals and fighting 
 scenes wrought on the golden belt of Heracles {OJ. 11. 
 610) recall some Rhodian vase-paintings^ But there is 
 no other Homeric hint of that Greek art, dating from the 
 Sth century B.C., which Phoenician work had stimulated; 
 and the passage in which the belt occurs is, by general 
 consent, one of the later pans of the OJvsscy. 
 
 The remark made above, as to the right way of con- 
 ceiving Homeric figures and dress, may probably be ex- 
 tended to the general effect of the Homeric house and of 
 
 ^ Generally, the Greek artistic sense in Homer is sho\\Ti by (i) 
 distaste for the formless and planless, — the monsters, such as Scylla, 
 being non-Hellenic conceptions : (2) feeling for physical beauty, even in 
 the old — as Achilles admires the comeliness of Priam (//. 24. 631) — just 
 as, later, old men chosen for their beauty shared in the Panathenaic 
 procession {daWocpopoi, Michaelis, Parthemn^ pp. 330 f.) : (3) especially, 
 the admiration of the human form as seen (e.g.) in the corpse of 
 Hector (//. 22. 369, cp. Herod. 9. 25). Agamemnon is likened to 
 Zeus for head and eyes, to Ares for girth, and to Poseidon for breast 
 (//. 2. 477). Vet Pheidias was the first who wrought out the Zeus of 
 Homer. 
 
 - Prof. P. Gardner in Macmillati's Magazine, vol. Liv. p. 377; 
 who refers to U. Koehler in Mittheiluttgcn Dcutsch. Inst. Athcn. 
 VII. 2^4. 3 y^. p^ .-3^ 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 69 
 
 Homeric art. The modern spectator, if he could be placed Oriental 
 in the dwelling of an Homeric king, might fancy himself at iio"J|J.ri*^[ 
 Nineveh in the palace of Sanherib, or at Tyre in the palace art gene- 
 of Hiram, rather than in a Greek home'. ^'^ ^' 
 
 31. Homer makes no reference to coined money. A Stan- 
 * talent's weight' of uncoined gold is sometimes mentioned^ ^^[^J ° 
 The ox is the ordinary measure of values. Thus a female 
 slave, skilled in embroidery, is worth four oxen ; Laertes had 
 given twenty for Eurycleia ; a fine tripod is worth twelve ; 
 a suit of ^ golden ' armour is worth a hundred. Much- 
 wooed maidens ' multiply oxen * for their fathers — by 
 gifts from the successful suitors '\ 
 
 Some kind of alphabetic writing is probably indicated by Writing, 
 the 'baneful tokens' in //. 6. i68 ; but elsewhere in Homer 
 the later word for ' writing ' (ypdcfiw) means only to ' scratch ' 
 or ' graze.' The subject of writing will be noticed again in 
 Chapter iv. 
 
 The Odyssey has a word for a man who is skilled Crafts- 
 in a profession or trade — 'craftsman of the people ' "^^'^• 
 (SrjixLoepyos). This term is appHed to (i) soothsayers, (2) 
 surgeons, (3) minstrels, (4) heralds, (5) artificers. Commerce Mer- 
 is not yet in high esteem with Greeks. Odysseus is '^'^^"^•'^* 
 nettled when a Phaeacian chief remarks that he is not like 
 'one skilled in games,' but rather like 'a master of sailors 
 that are merchants' (7rpr]KTyp€<i, Od. 8. 161). 
 
 32. Apart from the action of each epic, glimpses into 
 
 1 Helbig, p. 318. 
 
 2 It denotes no great value — as may be inferred from //. 23. 751, 
 where 'half a talent of gold' is only the third prize for running,— the 
 second being an ox, and the first a silver bowl. 
 
 ^ See Butcher and Lang's Odyssey^ Note 5, p. 410. 'The iova. in 
 Homer are invariably gifts made by the wooers to the father or kinsmen 
 of the bride, that is, the bride-price, the ka/y/n of the dwellers on the 
 Volga. The Greeks of the Homeric age virtually bought their wives : 
 cp. Aristotle, Fol. ii. 8 § 19, speaking of the barbaric customs of ancient 
 Greece, ras ywaiKas itavovvro Trap aXX^Xwj'.' The Homeric fxeiXia are 
 gifts to the bride from her father: the wooer's gifts to her are called 
 simply oi2pa. In Pindar ^5m al ready =0^pj'?7, the dowry. 
 
70 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 the general life of the age are given by many of the 
 Life similes. These tell of the shipwright — for whom mules 
 shniles ^^^^ timber from the hills — the chariot-builder, the stone- 
 mason, and the house-builder. A woman 'of Caria or 
 Maeonia ' stains ivory with crimson, to make a cheek-piece 
 for the bridle of a chief's horse. The art of 'overlaying 
 gold on silver' is noticed. A doubtful fight suggests the 
 equipoise of scales in the hands of 'a careful working- 
 dame,' weighing wool, that by spinning 'she may earn a 
 scant wage for her children.' We see neighbours disputing 
 about a boundary, 'with measuring-rods in their hands.' 
 Or a skilled rider ^ is urging four horses together along a 
 highway towards a great town, and leaping from one horse 
 to another, while the folk marvel. A late hour in the 
 afternoon is the hour 'when a man rises up from the 
 marketplace and goes to supper, — one who judges the 
 many quarrels of the young men that seek to him for law^.' 
 Scenes On the Shield of Achilles two scenes of townlife are given. 
 Shield. ^^^ ^^ ^ joyous marriage procession, while torches blaze, and 
 the bridal chant rings clear. Another is a dispute for the 
 blood-price of a slain man, in the marketplace ; the slayer 
 vows that he has paid ; the kinsman of the slain denies it ; 
 and the elders, seated on polished stones in a semicircle, 
 try the cause. In the rural scenes of the Shield — Ploughing, 
 Reaping, Vintage, Pasturage — we note the kindly and 
 joyous aspect of the country life. And then there comes 
 the picture of the dance : — ' youths dancing, and maidens 
 of costly wooing, their hands upon one another's wrists. 
 
 ^ //. 15. 679; the only mention of riding {KeXrjTi^ei.f') in //.: for in 
 10. 513 we need not assume that Odysseus and Diomede ride, rather than 
 drive, the horses of Rhesus. In Od. 5. 371 the shipwrecked Odysseus 
 bestrides a spar, k^X-qO' ws iirirov iXavi'cjv. In two other instances 
 a Homeric simile turns on a practice not ascribed to the Homeric 
 heroes: (i) the use of the trumpet, (rdXiny^, 11. 18. 219: (2) boiling 
 meat in a caldron, X^/S???, //. i\. 362. 
 
 2 Od. 12. 440 — notable as an indication of time exactly like the 
 0,70^0, TTX'f]Bov<Ta (early forenoon) or a.yo(ia% dcaXvo-is (early afternoon) of 
 the classical age. 
 
CH. II.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 7 1 
 
 Fine linen the maidens had on, and the youths well-woven 
 tunics faintly *glistening with oil. Fair wreaths had the 
 maidens, and the youths daggers of gold hanging from 
 silver baldrics.' Now they move round in a swift circle — 
 now they run in lines to meet each other. * And a great 
 company stood round the lovely dance in joy.' 
 
 $$. The Homeric Greeks burn their dead. When the Funeral 
 body has been laid on the pyre, sacrifice is offered, on a scale '^^^^^• 
 proportionate to the rank of the dead. If he was a great 
 chief, many oxen and sheep are slain, as well as some of his 
 favourite horses and dogs, and their carcases are thrown on 
 the pyre. The corpse is wrapped in the fat of the victims ; 
 unguents and honey are also placed near it. When the 
 body has been consumed, the embers are quenched with 
 wine. The friends then collect the bones, washing them 
 with wine and oil, or wrapping them in fat; cover them 
 with fine cloths ; and place them in an urn (Xdpva^). The 
 urn is then deposited in a grave (/caTreTos); over this is 
 raised a round barrow of earth and stones {TVfx(3o<s or 
 a~f}iJLa)\ and on the top of the barrow is set an upright slab 
 of stone (a-TyXr]). Until the body has received funeral rites, 
 the spirit of the dead is supposed to be excluded from con- 
 verse with the other shades in the nether world (//. 23. 71). 
 In practising cremation, the Homeric Greeks were in accord 
 with the most ancient practice of the Indo-European 
 peoples, except the Persians. With the Semitic races, on 
 the other hand, interment was the prevailing custom. 
 Among the Greeks and Romans of the historical age crema- 
 tion and interment were in contemporary use. 
 
 34. The Homeric place of the departed is 'the house The 
 of Hades.' ' Hades,' ' the Unseen,' is in Homer always a ^^g^f^J^^j, 
 proper name, denoting the god Pluto. Between earth and 
 
 1 Three fire-funerals are described with some detail; — //. 23. no ff. 
 (Patroclus) : //. 24 786 ff. (Hector) : Od. 24. 63 ff. (Achilles). The 
 sacrifice of the Trojan prisoners at the funeral of Patroclus is ex- 
 ceptional—a trait of unique ferocity, intended to mark the frenzy of 
 grief in Achilles. 
 
72 HOMER. [CH. II. 
 
 the realm of Hades is an intermediate region of gloom, 
 Erebus : while Tartarus, the prison of the Tilans and other 
 offenders against Zeus, is as far below Hades as he is below 
 the earth. In the realm of Hades the spirit {^vxyj) of 
 the dead has the form, the rank, and the occupations which 
 were those of the living man. But the spirit is a mere 
 semblance (etSwXov) or wraith ; ' the living heart is not in it ' 
 (//. 23. 103) ; it is ^ strengthless.' The Homeric feehng on 
 this point is illustrated by the use of the pronoun aurd?. As 
 distinguished from the spirit in the nether world, the real 
 self (auVds) is either the corpse left on earth (//. i. 4), 
 or the man as he formerly lived {Od. 11. 574)'. So the 
 Egyptian Book of the Dead' has a picture of the deceased 
 man (the avros) making prayers to the Sun-god, while his 
 soul attends behind him. When Odysseus wishes to call 
 up the spirits of the dead, he digs a pit, a cubit square, into 
 which flows the blood of the sheep which he sacrifices ; and 
 the spirits, invoked by his prayers, then come up from 
 Erebus to the drink-otfering of blood (Od. 11. 36). By 
 drinking of the blood, the ghosts recover some of the 
 faculties of the living, so that they can recognise Odysseus, 
 and speak to him^ 
 
 Homer knows not the ' Islands of the Blest :' these are 
 first named by Pindar. But in the far region of the sunset 
 is 'the Elysian plain.' *No snow is there, nor yet great 
 storm, nor any rain; but always the river Ocean sendeth 
 
 1 Similarly in Od. ti. 602 avros is the real Heracles, as he exists, 
 after apotheosis, among the gods, in distinction from his eidolon in 
 the house of Hades. 
 
 2 Bunsen's Egypt (vol. I. p. 26, transl.), quoted by Gladstone in 
 Homeric Synchronism, p. 261. The 'Book of the Dead,' or 'Funeral 
 Ritual,' is ' a collection of prayers of a magical character, referring to the 
 future condition of the disembodied soul' (R. S. Poole, in Encycl. Brit. 
 VII. p. 721). It has been published by Lepsius and by De Roug^, and 
 translated by Birch. 
 
 •^ See Od. 11. 153, 390. The drinking of the blood is not mentioned 
 in every instance, but the poet evidently conceived it as the general 
 condition : see Merry on Od. 11. 96. 
 
CH. 11.] THE HOMERIC WORLD. 73 
 
 forth the breeze of the shrill west to blow cool on men.' 
 There is Rhadamanthus, son of Zeus ; and thither Menelaus 
 shall pass without dying, because Helen, the daughter of 
 Zeus, is his wife. {Od. 4. 563 ff.) 
 
 Such are the chief traits of the Homeric age. As a 
 general picture of that age, the Homeric poetry has the 
 value of history. It is manifestly inspired by real life. 
 This is equally true whether the life is conceived as strictly 
 contemporary with the poet, or as known to him only 
 through a vivid tradition. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Homer in Antiquity. 
 
 I. We have now considered the general characteris- 
 Influence tics of the Homeric poems and of the Homeric age. The 
 Homeric ^^^J^^^ which next invites attention is the influence of Homer 
 poems, in Greek antiquity. That influence pervades Greek litera- 
 ture But it is much more than literary. It enters into 
 every part of Greek life. Eulogists of Homer, Plato tells 
 us, used to say that he had been ' the educator of Hellas \* 
 In a certain sense, such a claim can be made for every 
 great national poet. The peculiarity of Homer's case is 
 that, for him, the claim can be made with so much literal 
 truth. There is no other instance in which the educative 
 power of national poetry over a national mind has been 
 so direct or so comprehensive. 
 
 Homer was long known to the Greek world solely, 
 or chiefly, through public recitation. The spirit in which 
 the public reciter conceived his ofiice will be better under- 
 stood if we begin by noting the Homeric references to 
 minstrelsy. 
 
 1 I?e/<. 606 E Brav '0|J.^)oov eTraiviraLS iPTi'XV^t X^iorcrtp u5s tt]}' 
 'EWaSa TreiraidevKeu ovtos 6 TroiriTrjS. 
 
CH. III.] HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. 75 
 
 2. The Iliad nowhere mentions a minstrel (aotSo's') reci- Min- 
 ting lays. It says, indeed, that the Thracian poet Thamyris Homer" 
 boasted that 'he would conquer, though the Muses them- .,. , 
 selves should sing against him' (2. 597). He was 'coming 
 from Eurytus of Oechaha' (in Thessaly) when the Muses 
 met him and struck him blind. Here we seem to have a 
 glimpse of a poet who (i) recites his own poetry, (2) is 
 familiar with the idea of competition in singing, and (3) is 
 the guest of chieftains. Achilles has no minstrel to entertain 
 him in his tent, but plays the lyre himself, and sings to it 
 'the glories of heroes' {taXka avSpwv, 9. 189). Patroclus was 
 waiting in silence, till Achilles 'should cease from singing.' 
 
 The Odyssey assigns a recognised position to the pro- Odyssey. 
 fessional minstrel (aoiSo's). In the palace of Alcinous, king 
 of Phaeacia, the blind minstrel, Demodocus, is led in by the 
 king's 'herald' or chamberlain (Krjpv^), and is set on 'a high 
 chair inlaid with silver,' in the midst of the guests (8. 65). 
 Demodocus sings the 'glories of heroes' (Kkia avSpwv, v. 73) 
 to the lyre — choosing the episode of a quarrel between 
 Odysseus and Achilles. Then the company go out to see 
 athletic games. The next time that Demodocus sings at 
 the feast, his theme is again from the * Trojan lay': but 
 Odysseus names the part which is to be sung— viz., the 
 story of the wooden horse ; and the minstrel ' fook up the 
 tale from that poinf {IvQ^v cAcuV, 8. 500). 
 
 In Ithaca, during the absence of Odysseus, the min- 
 strel Phemius was constrained by the suitors to sing to 
 them at their feasts. He sang 'the pitiful return of the 
 Achaeans' from Troy. This pained Penelope, and she 
 begged him to change his theme; but Telemachus re- 
 
 ^ In //. 24. 720 Trapa 5' d<sav ctotSoi^s, | dpyjvwv i^dpxovs, the 'singers'' 
 placed by Hector's corpse merely ' lead the dirge,' while the women 
 join in with their wail. The only other place where the //iad has 
 the word is a doubtful passage, 18. 604 /xera 5i <T<pLv efM^XweTo delos 
 doi5o's, I <pop/j.i^ojv , — 'was making music with his lyre' (for the dancers — 
 in one of the scenes on the Shield). These words occur in no ms» 
 They were inserted by Wolf from Athenaeus (v. p. 180 D), who blames 
 Aristarchus for having struck them out [i^. p. 181 d). 
 
76 HOMER. [CH. III. 
 
 marked that the minstrel could not be blamed for choosing 
 it — since men most applaud the song which is newest (i. 
 352). So the Odyssey knows at least two great themes for 
 minstrels, — (i) 'The Doom of Ilios' ('IXtov oItov, 8. 578), 
 and (2) the 'Return of the Achaeans' ('Axaiwi/ voVtoi/, i. 
 326): and the latter is the ' newest.' 
 
 The similes from the art of the minstrel are striking, 
 (i) When the swineherd Eumaeus wishes to make Penelope 
 understand the charm of the newly-arrived stranger (Odys- 
 seus), he says : — ' Even as when a man gazes on a minstrel, 
 whom the gods have taught to sing words of yearning joy 
 to mortals, and they have a ceaseless desire to hear him, 
 so long as he will sing; — even so he charmed me, sitting 
 by me in the halls' [Od. 17. 518 ff.). (2) Ease in stringing 
 a bow is thus described : — ' Even as when a man that 
 is skilled in the lyre and in minstrelsy easily stretches a 
 cord about a new peg, after tying at either end the twisted 
 sheep-gut, even so Odysseus straightway bent the great bow' 
 {Od 21. 406 ff.). 
 
 Such, then, are the essential traits of the minstrel, 
 or ' aoidos,' as we find him in the Odyssey: — (i) He is a 
 singer directly moved by 'the god' {op/xtjOeU Ocov, Od. 8. 
 499), or by 'the Muse:' (2) he sings for a select company 
 of guests at the banquet in a great man's house: (3) he 
 accompanies his song on the lyre: (4) his song is a lay 
 of moderate length, dealing with some episode complete 
 in itself, taken from a larger story (such as the tale of 
 Troy). When his host asks him for a particular lay, the 
 minstrel begins ' from that point ' in the larger story. 
 Post-Ho- 3. After the picture of the 'aoidos' in the Odyssey, 
 citation " ^^^^^ ^^ a gap in our knowledge. Then, early in the his- 
 Rhap- torical age, we meet with the public reciter, or ^rhapsode' 
 (pai/^wSo?), who claims, in a certain way, to represent the 
 Homeric aoidos. The earlier rhapsodes were sometimes, 
 doubtless, epic composers also ; but it is not likely that this 
 was often the case after the sixth century B.C. 'Rhapsode' 
 is strictly 'a singer of stitched things,' — as Pindar (iV^;;?. 2. 2) 
 
 sodes. 
 
CH. III.] HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. 77 
 
 paraphrases it, pa-n-TOiv i-n-ewv aotSo's. 'To stitch verses to- 
 gether' was a metaphor for 'composing verses'.' 'Rhap- 
 sode,' then, need not mean anything more than ' a reciter 
 of poetical compositions ' (whether his own, or another's). 
 The word was, however, pecuHarly suitable to the con- 
 tinuous flow of epic verse, as contrasted with a lyric strophe. 
 It has nothing to do with any notion of the epic being 
 pieced together from short lays. 
 
 4. The public recitation of the Homeric poems by 
 rhapsodes can be traced back to about 600 B.C., and was 
 doubtless in use from a considerably earlier time. It is found 
 at Sicyon in Peloponnesus, — at Syracuse, — at Delos, — at 
 Chios, — at Cyprus,— and at Athens. This shows how widely 
 the Homeric poems were diffused, from an early date, 
 throughout the Greek world, among Dorians and lonians 
 alike. At Athens there was a special ordinance prescribing 
 that Homer should be recited (pai/zcuSeto-^at) at the festival of 
 the Great Panathenaea, once in every four years ^ This law 
 was probably as old as 600 — 500 B.C. It was further provided 
 that the competing rhapsodes at the Panathenaea should 
 recite consecutive parts of Homer, instead of choosing their 
 passages at random ^ 
 
 The passage in which Herodotus (5. 67) notices 
 the recitations at Sicyon is of interest as illustrating the 
 power of Homer over the popular Greek mind. Cleis- 
 
 1 Hes. fr. 34 (Homer and Hesiod) iv veapois vfxpot.s pdxf/avres aoid-qv 
 (cp. 'pangere versus'), v/xuos itself is perh. v<p-vos {vcpaivu}), 'web': 
 though in any case it seems unlikely that in Od. 8. 429 {doidrjs 
 V/J.VOV aKovuv) it was used with a consciousness of that sense. 
 
 - Kad' eKaarnv irevTaeTrjpida, Lycurgus Leocr. § 102. 
 
 ^ Ace. to Diogenes Laertius i. 1. 57, Solon e^ vtto^oXtjs yiypacpe 
 paxpCxjdeTadai, olov oirov 6 irpi2Tos ^Xrj^ev, exeidev dpx^O'dci.i- tqv ^x6^ej'0J'. 
 Ace. to the Platonic Hippaixhus 228 B Hipparchus compelled the 
 reciters of the Homeric poems ^| yiroXTj^ews icpe^ifs avrd duipat. i 
 i.e. in such a way that they should 'take one another up' consecutively. 
 The general sense of e| viro^oXrjs is clearly the same : the only question 
 is whether it means (i) 'from an authorised text,' or (2) 'with 
 prompting' — each reciter having his proper cue given to him. 
 
78 HOMER. [CH. III. 
 
 thenes, tyrant of Sicyon (600 — 570 B.C.), was bitterly 
 hostile to Argos. ' He put down the competitions of 
 rhapsodes,' Herodotus says, 'on account of the Homeric 
 poems, because Argives and Argos are celebrated almost 
 everywhere in them.' It has been thought that the 
 ' Homeric poems ' meant here were some poems specially 
 concerned with Argos, such as the lost epic called the 
 Thebais. But there is no reason why the reference should 
 not be to our Iliad^ since in it 'Argives' is one of the col- 
 lective names for the Greeks, and Agamemnon is lord of 
 'Argos and the isles.' 
 Homer- 5. In the island of Chios, there was a family or clan 
 ^ ^^* called Homeridae, and it has generally been supposed that 
 they were rhapsodists; but this is doubtful The Chian 
 Homeridae are first mentioned by Strabo {circ. 18 a.d.), 
 who says that they claimed descent from Homer, but does 
 not connect them with the recitation or study of Homeric 
 poetry. The term ' Homeridae,' as used by Pindar and 
 Plato, seems to have nothing to do with a gens in Chios, but 
 to mean simply ' votaries ' or ' students ' of Homeric poetry, 
 being equivalent to the more prosaic term 'Homerists' 
 
 (^OflfjpeLOL or 'O/XT/ptKOt) \ 
 
 The 6. The hint in Herodotus as to Homer's power agrees 
 
 rhapsode ^y[^^ ^)^q picture of the Homeric rhapsode in the Platonic 
 fourth dialogue, the Ion. Here we see what the rhapsode's calling 
 century ^g^g about 400 — 350 B.C. lon, a native of Ephesus, is a pro- 
 fessional rhapsode, who goes from city to city, reciting and ex- 
 
 1 All that we know about 'O/tT/ptSai comes to this: — (i) The word 
 occurs first in Pindar JVem. 2. 2, 'O/^T^ptSat pairruiv iiriwv doidoi, where it 
 has no special reference to a family in Chios. And the scholiast there 
 expressly recognises a general use of '0/j.T]pi8aL to denote rhapsodists of 
 Homer who had no claim to be his descendants ; adding, however, 
 that'0/i7?pi5at had origmally meant such descendants — a statement for 
 which he perhaps had no ground except the form of the word itself. 
 Plato has the word 'O/xTjpLdai thrice {/on 530 D, J^ep. 599 E, 
 Phaedr. 252 b), always as = persons who concern themselves with the 
 Homeric poems. The scholiast on Plat. Theaet. 179 E (twi/ 'Hpa/cXet- 
 reiioi', ij wcnrep aii X^ets, 'O/xijpeLuv), has 'O/irjplSas <prf<rl rovs'H.paK\ei- 
 
CH. III.] HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. 79 
 
 pounding Homer to large audiences. He has been attending 
 the festival of Asclepius at EpJdaurus ; now he has come to 
 Athens to recite at the Panathenaea. On such occasions, the 
 rhapsode appeared on a platform {^rjixa), in a richly em- 
 broidered dress, with a golden wreath on his head. He re- 
 cited Homer in a dramatic manner, with appropriate gesture 
 and declamation. Ion says that, when he recites, he feels 
 the strongest emotion : at the pathetic parts, his eyes fill with 
 tears ; at the terrors, his hair stands on end. He may have 
 an audience of 'more than twenty thousand;' and, after 
 all reasonable deduction, we must conclude that these 
 popular audiences were often very large indeed. As he 
 recites on his platform, the rhapsode beholds his own 
 moods reflected in the sea of upturned faces ; the hearers are 
 moved to wonder, to anger, or to tears. As Ion frankly puts 
 it to Socrates, a rhapsode whom his audience did not take 
 seriously — a rhapsode who merely made them /augk — would 
 have cause to look serious himself, for he would lose his pay. 
 The passage is a remarkable testimony to the intensity 
 with which the Greeks of the fourth century B.C. could still 
 enter into the spirit of Homer. They demanded that the 
 rhapsode should do something more than amuse them. He 
 must move them. He must bring the Homeric poetry home 
 to their hearts. On his part, the rhapsode Ion regards 
 himself and his professional brethren as more than reciters 
 or actors. They have an intellectual kinship with Homer ; 
 some measure of his spirit has descended on them. In 
 Ion's own phrase, they are 'possessed' by Homer. The 
 Platonic Socrates, with delicate irony, embodies this claim 
 in a simile. The Muse, says Socrates, is hke the stone 
 
 relovs BlcL rb rijs deLKivrjaias 56yfjLa — showing that the scholiast under- 
 stood 'Ofxrjpldai as='OfMT^peioi. (2) A family or clan in Chios called 
 '0/x7]pi'Scii is noticed by Strabo Xiv. p. 645, who says that it was 
 so called d-n-b toO eKelvov yiuovs, and that hence it was quoted by 
 the Chians in proof that Homer was a Chian. Harpocration, in 
 his lexicon, also mentions the Chian Homeridae, but notices that 
 their descent from Homer was not undisputed. 
 
8o HOMER. [CH. III. 
 
 which Euripides has named the magnet, but which is 
 usually called the stone of Heracleia. The poet is the 
 first link in a magnetic chain ; the audience is the last ; 
 the rhapsode is the link which connects them. The pro- 
 fessional ancestors of Ion are such as Orpheus, or the 
 Thamyris of the Iliad, or the Phemius of the Odyssey, 
 whom Socrates calls ' the rhapsode of Ithaca.' 
 
 7. Ion devotes himself exclusively to Homer. He does 
 not pretend to any thorough knowledge of Hesiod, for in- 
 stance, or of Archilochus. Some rhapsodes, he says, give 
 themselves to Orpheus or Musaeus ; but the majority are 
 occupied with Homer alone. 
 Was The rhapsode of Plato's time clearly did not sing 
 
 ever^^'^ Homer to music ; the word ahuv is, indeed, used of 
 sung? Ion's performances (Plat. Io7i 532 c, 535 a), but that word 
 was applicable to any solemn recitation : thus Thucydides 
 applies it to the reciting of an oracular verse (2. 53). 
 Whether the Iliad or Odyssey was ever sung to music, is 
 very doubtful. Once, certainly, there had been heroic lays 
 which were really sung to the lyre. But the form of Homeric 
 verse is ill-suited for that purpose. In the hymn to the 
 Delian Apollo (verse 170) the reciter is supposed to carry 
 a lyre : but this may have been conventional, — a symbol 
 of legitimacy in the descent of the Homeric rhapsode's 
 art from that of the 'aoidos.' Hesiod describes the Muses 
 giving him a branch of laurel as the token of his vocation; 
 and in the Hesiodic school of rhapsodists, at least, the wand 
 or pa^Sos — not the lyre — was usually carried. 
 The Besides reciting Homer, Ion interprets him. At the 
 
 ^^^P" Panathenaea the competing rhapsodes recited continuously, 
 commen- each beginning where the last left off. Ion's comments, 
 ^^°^' then, must have been given separately from his recitations, 
 or else can have been combined with these only on oc- 
 casions when he was the sole performer. It is evident 
 from the Platonic dialogue that Ion's Homeric commentary 
 had the form of continuous rhetorical exposition : he took 
 pride in his fluency, and in the wealth, as he says, of his 
 
CH. III.] HOMER IN ANTIQUITY 8l 
 
 *ideas about Homer.' 'I have embellished Homer so well', 
 he declares, 'that his votaries ought to give me a golden 
 crown.' Doubtless, like other men of that age, he dealt 
 mainly with the allegories which a perverse ingenuity dis- 
 covered in Homer. 
 
 8. The study of the poets in schools is described in Homer 
 Plato's Protagoras. When a boy goes to school, he is J? e^"<^^- 
 first taught his letters. As soon as he can read, he is 
 introduced to the poets. The boys sit on benches, 
 
 and the teacher ' sets before them ' ' the works of good 
 poets,' which they are required to learn thoroughly ^ 
 Evidently, then, the teaching was by manuscript copies 
 which the boys had before them, and was not merely 
 oral. The purpose was not only to form the boy's 
 literary taste, or to give him the traditional lore: it was 
 especially a moral purpose, having regard to the precepts 
 {yovQ^Tr)(T(.ii) in the poets, and to the praises of great men 
 of old, — ' in order that the boy may emulate their examples, 
 and may strive to become such as they' (Plat. Prot. 326 a). 
 
 9. From this point of view Homer was regarded as the 
 best and greatest of educators. In Xenophon's Sym- 
 posium (3. 5) one of the guests says : — ' My father, anxious 
 that I should become a good man, made me learn all the 
 poems of Homer; and now I could say the whole Iliad 
 and Odyssey by heart '. ' Homer, the prince of poets, 
 has treated almost all human affairs. If any one of you, 
 then, wishes to become a prudent ruler of his house, or an 
 orator, or a general, or to resemble Achilles, Ajax, Nestor, 
 or Odysseus ' — let him study Homer {ib. 4. 6). Especially, 
 as Isocrates says, Homer was looked upon as the embodi- 
 ment of national Hellenic sentiment. No one else was so 
 well fitted to keep the edge of Hellenic feeling keen and 
 bright against the barbarian ^ 
 
 ^ Plat. Prot. 325 E TraparidiaaLV avToiis iirl ti2v ^ddpup avayiyvuiaKeiv 
 ttoltjtQv dyaOQv iroLrifjiaTa Kal iK/xavdaveiv dvayKa^ouffiv. eKfxauddveLu may 
 imply committing portions to memory, a sense which the word has in 
 Leg-g. 811 A. 
 
 2 Panegyricus § 159- 
 
 J. ^ ^ 6 
 
82 HOMER. [CH. III. 
 
 Plutarch relates that Alcibiades, when a young man, 
 once went up to a schoolmaster and asked him for a 
 copy of Homer. The schoolmaster said that he had 
 nothing of Homer's, whereupon Alcibiades struck him'. 
 This story suggests the remark that, though Homer 
 had a place in the education of very young boys no less 
 than of older youths, it was better suited for the latter; 
 and such, perhaps, was the view of the Homer-less school- 
 master. There is an amusing fragment of Aristophanes 
 (from the * Banqueters,* AatraA-cts) in which an old man — a 
 beUever in the old orthodox system of education — examines 
 his son on 'hard words in Homer' (OfxrjpeioL yXwo-o-at), 
 asking him 'what is meant by d/xevrivd Kdpr)va\ and so 
 forth. The young man, who represents new-fangled ideas 
 and the new-born love of law-suits, retorts by examining his 
 father on the archaic words in Solon's laws^ 
 
 lo. In the J^rogs of Aristophanes som.e of the poets are 
 mentioned in connection with the special lessons which they 
 severally teach. Orpheus teaches mystic rites, and abstinence 
 from animal food. Musaeus gives oracles, and precepts 
 for banishing pestilence. Hesiod is the poet of the husband- 
 man. Homer is preeminently the poet of the soldier^. The 
 rhapsode Ion, when cross-questioned by Socrates, is not 
 absolutely certain that the study of Homer has made him a 
 finished charioteer, or physician, or fisherman, or prophet ; 
 but he has no doubt whatever that it has made him a 
 competent general. The Athenians, Socrates remarks, are 
 sorely in need of such a general, and it is strange that they 
 have not secured Ion's services ; but Ion accounts for this by 
 the Athenian prejudice against foreigners. 
 
 Plato's famous protest against the educational influence 
 of the myths is pointed with especial force at Homer. But 
 
 1 Plut. Alcib. 7 ^L^Xtov yTTja-ev'O/xTjpiKou, elirovros 8^ rod didaaKciXov 
 /jLrjdev ^x^iv '0/xripov KovdvXq} KadiKOfxeuos iraprjXdev. 
 
 2 The point is curiously illustrated by Lysias (or. lo §§ 15 ff.), 
 who gives, from 'the old laws of Solon,' specimens of words obsolete 
 in 400 B.C. 
 
 '^ Homer teaches ra'lets, a^perdi, oTrXiaeis dvSpuiv {Frogs 1036). 
 
CH. III.] HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. 83 
 
 it does not seem to have materially affected the place of 
 Homer in Greek education. At the close of the first 
 Christian century Dion Chrysostom speaks of the Homeric 
 poems as still used in the teaching of children from the 
 very beginning \ 
 
 11. Herodotus remarks (2. 53) that Homer and Hesiod Homer's 
 created the Greek theogony. They did this, he says, in four JJJ^ Greek 
 respects. They gave the gods their titles (eTrww/xtat) — as religion. 
 Homer calls Zeus KpovtSr;?, and Athene TptroyeVcia. They 
 
 gave them their prerogatives (rt^aat), — as Poseidon is the 
 sea-god, Ares the god of war, etc. They distinguished 
 their arts or faculties (rexvat), as Hephaestus is the artificer, 
 Athene the giver of skill in embroidery, etc. They indi- 
 cated their personal and moral characteristics, {etSr]). The 
 statement is true of Hesiod in the sense that the 'Theogony' 
 is a storehouse of genealogical details. Homer affected the 
 popular conception of the gods in a larger way. He traced 
 types of divine character which established themselves in the 
 Greek imagination. Sometimes, indeed, he was credited 
 with a consciously didactic purpose in his delineation of the 
 gods, even by writers who did not look for allegorical 
 meanings. Thus Isocrates says that Homer feigns the gods 
 deliberating, because he wishes to teach us that, if gods 
 cannot read the future, much less can men^ 
 
 12. A larger and a truer claim might be made for the work 
 unconsciously wrought by the genius of the poet. Homeric 
 mythology contains various elements, belonging to different 
 stages of thought, and the fusion is imperfect. Coarse or 
 grotesque traits are by no means wanting. But there is 
 a complete absence of the grossest features common to all 
 early mythologies. There are no amours of the gods in the 
 shapes of animals ; there is no Cronus swallowing his 
 children, as in Hesiod. Such things abounded in the 
 oldest Greek temple-legends, as Pausanias shows. What- 
 ever the instinct of the great artist has tolerated, at least it 
 
 * evdus 6| apxvSf or. ii. p. 308. 
 2 Adv. Sop hist as y § 2. 
 
 6—2 
 
84 HOMER. [CH. Ill, 
 
 has purged these things away. Further, Homer did the 
 Greeks the inestimable service of making them conscious 
 that their own religious sense was higher than their mytho- 
 logy, — a trait often observed in other races, and one which 
 naturally tends to become more marked when it has 
 received poetical expression. 
 The Homer was the ultimate authority concerning the 
 
 heroes mentioned in the two great poems. Some of 
 these heroes were objects of worship in the historical age. 
 There is no trace in Homer of divine honours paid 
 to men after death'. But the Homeric poems must have 
 had a considerable influence, at least in a negative sense, 
 on the various local cults of later times. As a general 
 rule, the burden of proof would have been held to rest 
 w^th any local priesthood who adopted a legend at dis- 
 tinct variance with Homer. On the other hand we must 
 not overrate this restraining influence. In some cases, at 
 least, it failed'. 
 Greek 13. Homer was justly regarded by the Greeks as their 
 
 Homer ^^^^^^^t historian. But the historical character which they 
 as a his- ascribed to him was not merely that which he could truly 
 tonan. q_i^[^^ 3.8 the delineator of their early civilisation. They 
 held that his events and his persons were, in the main, 
 real. This general 'behef was not afifected by criticisms of 
 detail, nor, again, by the manner in which the supernatural 
 elements might be viewed. Thucy aides differs from 
 Herodotus in bringing down the Homeric heroes more 
 nearly to the level of common men. But the basis of fact 
 in Homer is fully as real to Thucydides as to Herodotus. 
 
 ^ Thus in the I/i'ad (3. 243) the Dioscuri are simply men who had 
 died, and had been buried in Lacedaemon. The later notion of their 
 alternate immortality appears in the Odyssey (11. 299 — 304). Hesiod 
 first calls the heroes r]fii6eoL {Op. 160) ; Homer never does so, except in 
 //. 12. 23, a verse which belongs to a late interpolation. He applies 
 the name TJ'pws (akin to Lat. vh-) to any respected free man. The cult 
 of T7pajcs is first mentioned by Pindar. 
 
 - A tomb of Castor was shown also at Argos (Plut. Quaest. Gr. 
 c. 23). Again, the Homeric murder of Agamemnon {Od. 4. 530 ff.) 
 and Oedipus-myth (11. 271 ff. ), differ from the later versions. 
 
CH. III.] HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. 85 
 
 Thucydides treats the Homeric Catalogue as a historical 
 
 document, — exaggerated, perhaps, in its numbers, yet 
 
 essentially authentic. He treats the Phaeacians as a 
 
 historical people who had dwelt in Corcyra. 
 
 Appeals to the historical authority of Homer are not rare Ancient 
 
 in Greek literature. Thus when the invasion by Xerxes was fPPf^^^ 
 
 •' to his au- 
 
 imminent, Sparta and Athens sent envoys to seek help from thority. 
 Gelon of Syracuse. Gelon said that he would help if he might 
 lead. The Spartans replied that Agamemnon would groan if 
 he could hear such a proposal : while the Athenians remarked 
 that, according to Homer, it was Athens that had sent to 
 Troy the best man of all to marshal an army, — Menes- 
 theus\ When the Athenians were contending with the 
 Megarians for Salamis, they quoted Iliad 2. 558, where 
 the Salaminian Ajax stations his ships with the Athenians 
 (Arist. Rhet. i. 15). Pericles, in the Thucydidean funeral 
 speech, says that the achievements of Athens render her 
 independent of Homer's praise^ The point of the passage 
 depends on the fact that Homer was the witness to whom 
 Greek cities and families especially appealed in evidence 
 of their prehistoric greatness ; as Thucydides elsewhere 
 contrasts the poor aspect of Mycenae in his own time 
 with the past grandeur which Homer attests. 
 
 14, As early as the seventh century B.C. other poems Poems 
 besides the Iliad and the Odyssey were popularly attributed ^o^jjo- 
 to Homer. Callinus, who flourished about 690 B.C., be-merin 
 lieved Homer to be the author of an epic called the ^^L^ 
 Thebais, as Pausanias tells us (9. 9. 5). It appears from 
 Herodotus that an epic called the Cypria and another called 
 the Epigoni were believed to be Homer's. Herodotus 
 does not commit himself in regard to the Epigoni. But 
 he denies the Homeric authorship of the Cypria, because 
 he finds in it a statement which conflicts with the Iliad^. 
 
 1 Herod. 7. 159— 161 : cp. //. 7. 125, 2. 552. 
 ' Thuc. 2. 41 § 4: cp. I. 10 § I (on Mycenae). 
 ^ Her. 2. 117 {Cypria): 4. 32 {Epigoni). In the Cypria, as 
 Her. knew it, Paris reached Troy in 3 days from Sparta, whereas 
 
86 HOMER. [CH. III. 
 
 This suggests how little these attributions probably regarded 
 the evidence of style, language, or spirit. Unless there 
 was some contradiction on the surface, the attribution could 
 pass current, or could be left an open question. A comic 
 poem called the Margites was ascribed to Homer by 
 Aristotle \ Many other humorous pieces were called 
 Homer's — the best known being the parody called the 
 Battle of the Frogs and Mice {Batrachornyomachia) ^ The 
 so-called Epigra77is anciently ascribed to him are short 
 popular poems or fragments, — pieces of folk-lore which 
 had acquired a half-proverbial character, — and, which, in 
 some cases at least, are probably very old^ The 'Hymns' 
 were also generally attributed to Homer. Thucydides 
 (3. 104) quotes the Hymn to the Delian Apollo in 
 
 the Iliad (6. 290} sent him to Sidon — on the same occasion, as Her. 
 assumes. Before the Cypria was incorporated into the Epic Cycle, 
 it was altered (as we know from Proclus) in this very particular : 
 a storm was brought in, which drove Paris to Sidon. The criticism 
 of Her. had told. 
 
 ^ Poet. 4. The Mapyirrjs was a feebly versatile person, who tried 
 many things, but excelled in nothing. Only a few verses are extant, 
 of which TToXA.' -qirlaTaTo ^pya, Aca/cws 5' rjiricTTaTO iravTa ([Plat.] 
 Alcib. II. 147 b) is the most significant. The piece may have been as 
 old as 700 B.C. Aristotle considers it the Homeric germ of comedy, 
 as the serious epics were of tragedy. 
 
 2 This mock-heroic piece, of which 305 verses are extant, cannot 
 well be later than about 160 B.C., and was by some ascribed to Pigres, 
 the brother (?) of Artemisia, circ. 475 B.C. It was doubtless on the 
 strength of the really ancient Margites that later iralyvia. were 
 attributed to Homer. 
 
 * The 16 'epigrams/ — containing altogether 109 hexameter verses, 
 — are subjoined Id the older editions of Homer (as to Didot's). Of 
 the 16, only 3 contain as many as 10 lines. The localities mentioned 
 all belong to the West coast of Asia Minor (except that no. 16 
 speaks of Arcadia) : viz. the Aeolian Cymi (2, 4) : Neonteichos, a 
 colony of Cyme on the river Hermus (i) ; Mount Ida (10) : the 
 Aeolo-Ionian Sfnyrna, and its river Meles (4) : the Ionian Erythrae, 
 opposite Chios (7), and Cape Mimas just N. of it (6) : Samos (title 
 of 12). Perhaps the most interesting is no. 4 — a complaint by a 
 poet who had come from Smyrna to Cyme, — had been ill-received, — 
 and meditates emigrating. 
 
CH. III.] HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. 87 
 
 reference to the Ionian festival at Delos, and expressly 
 identifies Homer with the 'blind man' there mentioned, 
 who ' dwells in rocky Chios.' 
 
 15. This leads us to the ancient notices of Homer's Notices 
 life. It is probable that nearly all of them are founded ^°' 
 on poems which were generally ascribed to him, and which life, 
 were taken as containing bits of genuine autobiography. 
 This is clearly the case in regard to several of the legends 
 about his birth-place. The Margites^ for example, spoke of 
 its author — 'an old man, a divine singer,' — as coming to 
 Colophon. The Delian hymn sanctioned the claim of Chios. 
 One of the epigrams was held to vouch for Smyrna j another 
 supported Cyme. Other competitors were los — a small 
 island of the Cyclades group, which stood alone in claiming 
 his grave — Rhodes — Salamis — Ithaca — Argos — Athens — 
 Thessaly — and Egyptian Thebes. But the favourites were 
 Smyrna, Chios, Colophon; and the ancient world gave a 
 decided preference to Smyrna\ Among the great Ionian 
 cities, Miletus is remarkable as not being connected by any 
 legend with Homer. 
 
 The extant Greek lives of Homer are all late, — pro- The 
 bably in no case earlier than about the second century a.d., 'Li^es*. 
 a period fertile in rhetorical forgeries. The Life written 
 in Ionic which bears the name of Herodotus was ob- 
 viously ascribed to him on the strength of the passage 
 
 * Antipater of Sidon {circ. 100 B.C.), in his epigram {Atithol. 
 Planudea 4. 296) puts the three strongest claimants first: — 61 fiev aev 
 Ko\o<p<2va TidrjvqTeipav, "O/xrjpe, | oi de KoXav HifjL^pvav, ol 5' iuiirovai 
 Xiov. Another epigram was eTrrd 7r6Xeis dLepi^ovaiu irepl pi^av'Ofi'jpov, | 
 ^lj.-Opva, 'P65os, Ko\o(puu, lioKaixiv, "los, "Apyos, 'Adijvai. Two other 
 versions of it, with lists partly different, occur in Anthol. Plan. 4. 297, 
 298. The best-known Latin couplet was ' Smyrna, Rhodos, Colophon, 
 Salamis, Chios, Argos, Athenae, | Orbis,depatriacertat, Homere, tua'. 
 Egyptian Thebes is added in Lucian Encom. Demosth. § 9. Suidas gives 
 a prodigious list, including Rome. Strabo mentions Smyrna as r\]v virb 
 TLov ir\el<jT(av Xeyofx^vqv avTov irarpida. See Geddes, Problem of 
 Horn. Poems, pp. 239 f. It is significant that the old myths (preserved 
 in the 'Lives') made Homer M-eKrjffiyevris, \ son of the river Meles at 
 Smyrna by a nymph Critheis. Smyrna was Aeolo-Ionian. 
 
88 HOMER. [CH. III. 
 
 in which he expresses a view as to Homer's age (2. 53), — 
 viz. that he had lived not much before 850 b. c. Some con- 
 temporaries of Herodotus, we may infer, assumed an earlier 
 date. It is to be noted that legend spoke of Homer's 
 poems as having been preserved and transmitted, not by a 
 son, but by a friend (some call him a son-in-law), Creophylus 
 of Samos — whose descendants, settled in Crete, afterwards 
 gave them to the Spartan Lycurgus. Here, perhaps, we may 
 recognise one of the earliest rhapsodes, who was also a poet. 
 Earliest The earliest trace of Homer in literature is the reference 
 
 Homer. ^^ ^^^ ^" ^ ^^^^ poem of Callinus, arc. 690 b. c, already 
 mentioned (§ 14) as reported by Pausanias. The earHest 
 mention of Homer's name in extant work is by the philo- 
 sopher Xenophanes of Colophon {arc. 510 B.C.), who says 
 that 'Homer and Hesiod have imputed to the gods all 
 that is blame and shame for men\' The earliest quota- 
 tion from Homer is made by Simonides of Ceos^, bom 
 556 B.C., who quotes //. 6. 148 as an utterance of 'the man 
 of Chios. ' 
 
 Thus, while the belief of the ancient Greeks in 
 a personal Homer was unquestioning, his personality was 
 shadowy, and could be associated with inconsistent legends. 
 We have seen that a similar uncertainty prevailed as to 
 the criteria of his authentic work : any composition in 
 •epic verse could be ascribed to Homer if it only seemed 
 sufficiently good of its kind. In a word, the attitude of 
 Greece towards Homer, before the Alexandrian age, was 
 wholly uncritical. 
 
 1 aj>. Sextus Empiricus adv. Mathem. 9. 193 iroina Oeoh av^drjKav 
 "0/xrjpos d"B.(xio86$ re | 8(X(ra Trap avdpdoiroLOLv 6vel5ea Kai xpoyos iffrl, \ 
 
 KkiiTTav fJLOiX^veiv re kuI dXXTjXous dirarevHu. Timon the satirist 
 (270 B.C.) called Xenophanes 'OfirjpawdTrjs iwLKOTrTTjs (castigator of 
 Homeric fiction), unless, with Kiihn, we read '0/x7)poirdTr]s (trampler on 
 Homer). Heracleitus, the contemporary of Xenophanes, is quoted by 
 Diog. Laert. 9. i as saying that Homer (and Archilochus) deserved to 
 be scourged (Heracl. fr. 119). 
 
 2 Or Simonides of Amorgos (660 B.C.), as Bergk surmises from the 
 style {PoeL Lyr., 3rd ed., p. 1146). Fr. 85 ^v 5^ to xaXXto-roi' Xtos 
 iiinrev dvrip' \ otrjirep (pvWwv yever], TOirjde Kal dvdpQiV. 
 
CH. III.] HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. 89 
 
 16. But, though he was not yet a subject of critical 
 study, he was already a cause of intellectual activity. In the 
 sixth, fifth, and fourth centuries B.C. the Homeric poetry gave 
 manifold occupation to ingenious or frivolous minds. Al- 
 most at the beginning of philosophical reflection in Greece 
 the moral sense of some thinkers rebelled against the 
 Homeric representation of the gods. The protest of Xeno- 
 phanes has just been quoted. Hence arose the allegorising 
 school of Homeric interpretation. Allegory afforded a 
 refuge for the defenders of Homer. Theagenes of Rhegium, Alle- 
 circ. 525 B.C., is mentioned as the earliest of the ^^le- ^^"^^"| 
 gorizers\ He combined two modes of allegorizing which tation. 
 afterwards diverged, — the moral (or mental), and the 
 physical : thus Hera was the air ; Aphrodite was love. 
 The moral allegorising was continued in the next century by 
 Anaxagoras, who explained Zeus as mind, Athene as art. 
 The physical mode was developed by Metrodorus of 
 Lampsacus. Aristotle refers to the allegorizers as ' the old 
 Homerists' (ot ap^aloi 'O/xrjpLKOL), and remarks that 'they 
 see small resemblances, but overlook large ones ' {Metaph. 
 13. 6, 7). The allegorizers of the classical age were 
 equalled, or surpassed, in misapplied subtlety by the Neo- 
 platonists of the third century a. d., who discovered their 
 own mystic doctrines in Homer ^ 
 
 ^ Qeay^vrjs 6 'Frj-ylpos, 6 /caret Kafx^vayju yeyovuii, is named by Tatian 
 adv. Graec. § 48 (quoted by Euseb. Praep. Evang. x. 2) at the head of 
 a list of the earliest writers (ot irpea^uTaroi) who dealt with inquiries as 
 to Homer's 'poetry, birth, and date.' In Plato's time (cp. Ion 530 d) 
 the highest repute for comment on Homer was enjoyed by Stesimbrotus 
 of Thasos and Metrodorus of Lampsacus. They, as well as Theagenes 
 and Anaxagoras, are among the commentators mentioned in the 
 Venetian Scholia. Wolf well describes the method of the allegorizers : 
 * interpretatione sua corrigere fabulas atque ad physicam et moralem doc- 
 trinam suae aetatis accommodare, denique historias et reliqua fere omnia 
 ad involucra exquisitae sapientiae trahere coeperunt ' {Froleg. cxxxvi). 
 
 2 Porphyrins {circ. 270 A.D.), the pupil of Plotinus, has left a choice 
 specimen of this in his treatise Hepl tov iv '05v(xa€lq.T<jov Nu^^dj;/ avrpov, 
 an allegorizing explanation, from the Neoplatonic point of view, of the 
 cave of the nymphs in the Odyssey. 
 
9© HOMER. [CH. III. 
 
 Rhetori- 17. Rhetorical dialectic also busied itself with Homer; 
 
 cal tre; 
 
 ment. 
 
 cal treat- gometimes by applying a kind of sophistical analysis, which 
 
 aimed at detecting incongruities of thought or language. The 
 sophist Protagoras (who applies this method to Simonides 
 in Plato Prot. 339 a) objected to /x^i/tv actSe ^ca, because 
 Homer ought to have prayed the goddess to sing, instead of 
 commanding her\ Sometimes, again, we hear of declamations 
 on Homeric themes. Thus the sophist Hippias made Homer 
 the subject of ' displays ' at the Olympic festivals. In 
 Plato's dialogue {Hippias Minor) he maintains that Achilles 
 is the bravest, Nestor the wisest, and Odysseus the wiliest, 
 of Homeric characters. Both these forms of treatment, 
 the analytic and the declamatory, were probably used by 
 the ' Homeromastix,' Zoilus of Amphipolis {circ. 280 B.C.?), 
 who was only the best known type of a class''. 
 Rationa- 18. Another kind of interpretation applied to Homer 
 tiSsm^"" ^^^ ^^^^ which aimed at reducing the narrative to intelligible 
 historical fact. Thucydides affords examples ; as when he 
 suggests that the Greek chiefs went to Troy, not because 
 they had promised Helen's father to avenge her, but 
 because the power of Agamemnon constrained them; or 
 when he accounts for the ten years' resistance of Troy 
 by the fact that the energies of the Greeks were partly 
 given to providing themselves with food. We may suppose 
 that this method was fully developed by Callisthenes {circ. 
 330 B.C.), who, in his history of Greece, devoted a separate 
 book to the Trojan War. The same tendency often appears 
 in later writers, as Polybius, Diodorus, Strabo, and Pau- 
 sanias^ 
 
 ^ t\)x^<yQo.u ol6iJ.evos iircTaTTei (Arist. Poet. 21.) See Spengel (xvvay. 
 Tex^^j/ p. 45. Aristophanes burlesques the cavilling sophistical method 
 in the verbal criticisms of Euripides on Aeschylus in the Frogs. 
 
 2 Lehrs thinks that, of the works ascribed to Zoilus, the ^0705 
 'Ofxrjpov was a declamation, while the Kara ttjs toO '0/j.rjpov Trot^o-ews 
 \6yot, evvia (Suidas) were in the style of sophistical analysis. 
 
 2 This 'pragmatizing' method is especially associated with the 
 Sicilian Euhemerus {circ. 330 B.C.). But the distinctive point of his 
 theory was that the goc^s, no less than the heroes, had been men, 
 
CH. III. 1 HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. gi 
 
 Aristotle's comments on Homer, as illustrating the 
 characteristics of epic poetry, have been noticed in Chapter 
 I. (p. 4). He also wrote a treatise, now lost, on difficulties 
 suggested by Homer'. 
 
 19. But it was at Alexandria that Homeric criticism, in 
 the proper sense, began. The materials for it, indeed, were 
 for the first time brought together in such great libraries 
 as those of Alexandria and Pergamum. Our knowledge 
 of these materials is derived from the Homeric scholia. 
 
 The editions of Homer in the Alexandrian library were Alex- 
 
 chiefly of two classes, (i) Editions known by the names of ^"^"^", 
 ■^ ^ ' •' materials 
 
 individual editors. The earliest recorded edition of this for Ho- 
 class is that by the epic poet Antimachus, of Clarus in ^f^}^ 
 Ionia (arc. 410 b. c). Such editions are sometimes cited cism. 
 separately, by the editor's name; as y *AvTt/xaxetos (sc. 
 cKSocrt?), Sometimes they are cited collectively, as 'the 
 private editions' (at Kar av8pa)\ (2) The other great class 
 consisted of editions known only by the names of cities. 
 Such were the editions of Massaha, Chios, Argos, Sinope,. 
 Cyprus^. When cited collectively, these are called 'the 
 
 who, after their deaths, were deified by admiring posterity. Thus such 
 rationalising as that of Thucydides stops short of 'Euhemerism' proper. 
 
 1 air oprjfxaT a {or ^rjT7]/J.aT a, or Trpo^\rifji.aTa)'Ofir]piKd. Porphyry often 
 refers to it in his own ^rjT-qfjLaTa'OfiTjpLKci: but the book from which he 
 quotes cannot, as Lehrs thinks, have been the genuine work of Aristotle 
 {De Aristarchi Siud. Horn. p. 222). The terms i^ffraTiKol ('objectors*} 
 and XvTLKol ('solvers', answerers) were especially applied to gram- 
 marians who impugned or defended points in Homer. 
 
 2 Aristarchus had at least six such editions, ranging from the end of 
 the 5th to the beginning of the 2nd cent. B. c, — those of Antimachus, 
 Zenodotus, Rhianus (the Alexandrian poet), Sosigenes, Philemon, and 
 Aristophanes. Didymus {circ. 30 B. c.) had also that of Callistratus, 
 and perhaps others. In Plut. Alcib. 7 a schoolmaster {circ. 420 B. C.\ 
 says that he has a Homer ' corrected by himself ' (u0' avrov diupdcofxiyov). 
 The anecdote suggests the scope which such diopdwaeis, at least in the 
 earlier times, may have given to private caprice. 
 
 2 7] M-aaaakLwrLKT}, 17 Xta, 77 'ApyoXiKr), -q ^ii/uttikt], tj Kvirpia (or 
 Kvirptos). These five seem to have been the only * civic ' editions used 
 
92 HOMER. [CH. III. 
 
 civic editions ' (at Kara 7roA.ets)\ There is no proof that they 
 represented texts authorised for public use. It is more 
 probable that their names merely indicated the places from 
 which they had come, their revisers being unknown. Besides 
 these two classes of editions, there were other texts desig- 
 nated as * common ' or * popular ' (Kotvat, Siy/tcoSets). These 
 are the same which are described as ' the more careless ' 
 (ctKatoTc/jat), being opposed to the more accurate or scholarly 
 (xapUarepaL). 
 The Taken altogether, the copies known to the Alexandrians 
 
 ancient j^^gj- have rested on an older vulmte text, of which the 
 vulgate. <^ ' 
 
 sources are unknown. This is indicated by the narrow 
 
 limits of textual divergence. The Alexandrian critics 
 notice only differences in regard to the reading of particular 
 verses, or to omissions and additions of a very small kind. 
 There is no trace of larger discrepancies or dislocations. 
 Such, however, could not have failed to exist if there had 
 not been a common basis of tradition. 
 
 20. The earlier activity of Homeric criticism at Alexan- 
 dria belongs to the period from about 270 b. c. to 150 b. c, 
 and is associated with three men — Zenodotus, Aristophanes, 
 and Aristarchus. 
 Zeno- Zenodotus, a native of Ephesus, was made Librarian of 
 
 the Alexandrian Museum by Ptolemy Philadelphus, who 
 reigned from 285 to 247 b. c. He published a recension of 
 Homer, and a Homeric glossary {'Ofi-qpLKal yXwaaai). In 
 the dawn of the new scholarship, he appears as a gifted man 
 with a critical aim, but without an adequate critical method. 
 He insisted on the study of Homer's style ; but he failed to 
 
 by Aristarchus. They are placed here in the order of frequency with 
 which they are mentioned in the scholia. The editions of Massalia and 
 Argos contained Odyssey as well as Iliad; in regard to the others, 
 nothing is known on this point. The Cretan edition (KpijTLKrj) probably 
 was not used by Aristarchus. The AIoXikti (or AioXls) is cited only for 
 some variants in the Odyssey. See Ludwich, Aristarchs Horn. Text- 
 kritik, I. 4. 
 
 ^ Also al airh (or e/c, or 5td) tCov iroKeuv: or simply aX tQiv iruXewy, or 
 a! iroXcTLKai. 
 
CH. III.] HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. 95 
 
 place that study on a sound basis. One cause of this was 
 that he often omitted to distinguish between the ordinary- 
 usages of words and those peculiar to Homer. In regard 
 to dialect, again, he did not sufficiently discriminate the 
 older from the later Ionic. And, relying too much on 
 his own feeling for Homer's spirit, he indulged in some 
 arbitrary emendations. Still, he broke new ground; his 
 work had a great repute ; and, to some extent, its influence 
 was lasting. 
 
 21. Aristophanes of Byzantium {circ. 200 B. c.) was the Aristo- 
 pupil of Zenodotus, whom he followed (though not imme- P"^"^^° 
 diately) in the office of Librarian. He, too, published a recen- 
 sion of Homer. There is no proof that his work was founded 
 
 on that of Zenodotus ; and, in some respects at least, it seems 
 to have marked an advance. Aristophanes had more respect 
 for manuscript evidence. His wide erudition also enabled 
 him, in many cases, to defend readings which his prede- 
 cessor had too hastily condemned ^ 
 
 22. Aristarchus^ a native of Samothrace, was a pupil Aristar- 
 of Aristophanes, and his successor in the headship of the '^^"^' 
 Library. The first half of the second century B.C. is the 
 period to which his active life belonged, and the time of his 
 highest eminence might be placed about 160 B.C. 
 
 His contributions to Homeric study were of three kinds. 
 {i)(rvyypdixixara, treatises on special Homeric questions, some- 
 times polemical. (2) v-Ko^vt]n.a.Ta, continuous conunentaries 
 
 ^ In some cases where Zenodotus had expelled a verse from the 
 text {oi55e 'iypacpe), Aristophanes was content to leave it in the text, 
 marking it with the obelus as spurious {adereiv). The difference 
 between the two men is well illustrated by an example to which Lehrs 
 refers (p. 352). Anacreon describes a fawn as forsaken K€po4a(T7}s...vTb 
 fxarpos. Zenodotus wrote epo^aa-qs ('lovely'), on the ground that only 
 the males have horns, Aristophanes vindicated the text by showing 
 that the poets ascribe horns to hinds as well as to stags. Schol. Find. 
 01. 3. 52 : Aelian His^. An. 7. 39. 
 
 2 The principal authorities on Aristarchus are K. Lehrs De Arisi. 
 Stiidiis Homericis {3rd ed., 1882); and A. Ludwich, Arisiarchs 
 Homerische Textkritik (2 vols., 1884 — S)« 
 
94 HOMER. ' [CH. ill. 
 
 on the Homeric text. These seem to have been current, 
 partly in a finished form, partly in the shape of rough notes, 
 either made by himself for use in lectures, or taken down 
 by his hearers. (3) €K8oo-ets, editions of the Homeric text. 
 He published two such^ The second appears to have been 
 later than the commentaries, and to have closed his Homeric 
 labours. In his text of Homer he used an apparatus of 
 critical signs, forming a sort of critical short-hand or cipher, 
 by which his readers could see at a glance when he thought 
 a verse spurious, — when he thought that it was out of its 
 right place, — or when it contained any point which he had 
 illustrated in his commentaries. This system of signs had 
 been partly used by the Alexandrians before him, and was 
 further elaborated by later grammarians ^ 
 Charac- 23. Aristarchus was the greatest scholar, and the best 
 
 oTJS^^ Homeric critic, of antiquity. Three general aspects of his 
 work. work may be noted, (i) He carefully studied the Homeric 
 
 ^ Ammonius, the pupil of Aristarchus, wrote a tract, Tcepl rod firi 
 yeyovhai TrXeLovas eKSocreis T7J$ 'Apiarapxdov diopdioaeus. Ludwich 
 agrees with Lehrs in explaining this to mean, 'not more than tzvo.^ I 
 confess that the explanation seems to me a little forced. Ammonius 
 wrote also Trept r^s eire KdodeiaTjs diopOwaeios. May he not have meant 
 that the so-called second recension was only a modification of the first? 
 
 ^ The arj/xela used by Aristarchus seem to have been six only, (i) 
 The obelus (o^SeXos, or 'spit'), — , prefixed to a verse to indicate its 
 condemnation as spurious {dderrjcni). This sign had already been used 
 by Zenodotus and Aristophanes. (2) The dij>le (5i7r\^), 8-i (also >, 
 ►3, or <1 ), a general mark of reference to the commentaries of Aristarchus, 
 placed against a verse which contained anything notable, either in 
 language or in matter. (3) The dotted diple, {5nr\TJ irepuaTLyfievrj,) Sf<, 
 prefixed to a verse in which the reading of Aristarchus differed from 
 that of Zenodotus. (4) The asterisk {acTeplaKos), *, when used alone, 
 merely drew attention to a repeated verse. Thus it was prefixed to 
 //. 2. 180 because that verse is the same {plus 6') as 164. But if a 
 repeated verse seemed to be spurious in one of the two places where it 
 occurred, the asterisk with obelus, * — , was prefixed to that place. (5) 
 The antisigfua, D, and (6) the stigme or dot (oTt7/i^), were used in 
 conjunction. Aristarchus thought that //. 2. 192 should be immediately 
 followed by w. 203—205. He prefixed the D to 192, and dots (for in 
 Ven. A. the C must be an error, see Ludwich i. p. 209) to 203 — 205. 
 
CH. III.] HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. 95 
 
 usages of words — recognising that criticism of the matter 
 must be based on accurate knowledge of the language. Pre- 
 vious grammarians had dealt chiefly with rare or archaic 
 words (yA-ojo-o-at), Aristarchus aimed further at defining 
 the Homeric sense of famiHar words — remarking (e.g.) that 
 Homer always has wSe in the sense of ' thus ' (never as = 
 'here' or 'hither'); that Homer uses fSdXketv of missiles, 
 but ovTaCeiv of wounding at close quarters ; </)o/?os, in the 
 sense of 'flight'; ttovos, especially with reference to battle; 
 "OXvixTTO's (in the Iliad), of the actual mountain. (2) In 
 forming his text, he gave full weight to manuscript au- 
 thority. When this test left him in doubt between two 
 readings, he was guided by 'the usage of the poet\' So 
 far from being rash in correcting the text, he appears to 
 have been extremely cautious. In contrast with Zenodotus, 
 he abstained from merely conjectural readings. He was 
 even censured by later critics for excess of caution, — and 
 perhaps with some reason ^ (3) He commented on the 
 subject-matter of Homer. He compared the Homeric 
 versions of myths with those in other writers ; and noticed 
 characteristic points of the Homeric civilisation. He 
 seems to have made a chart showing the topography 
 of the Trojan plain and the Greek camp : and he notes 
 {e.g.) that Homer means Thessaly by "Apyo^; U eXaay lkovj 
 and Peloponnesus by "Apyos 'AxaiKoV^ 
 
 Again, //. 8. 535 — 537 had the antisigjiia, and 538 — 541 the stigiriiy 
 because the latter group seemed to repeat the sense of the former. 
 The stigme was also used alone as a mark of suspected spuriousness. 
 Aristophanes used the KepavvLov, T, as a collective obelus when several 
 consecutive verses were adjudged spurious. The dotted antisigma O" was 
 used by some to mark tautology. But these two signs were not 
 Aristarchean. 
 
 1 TO iQitxQv Tov iroLTjTov, Apollonius Dyscolus synt. p. 77 (Lehrs p. 
 360), who says that it was this which led Aristarchus to write tr<2s bal 
 Twv Tpojoov (pvXuKal, instead of ttws 6' at. (//. 10. 408J. 
 
 2 Lehrs p. 363: *Minime audax Aristarchus; imo mihi certum est 
 si quid Aristarchus peccavit in contrarium peccasse.' Cp. id. p. 359 
 (uTTo irepLTT^s ev\a^eia$ ovd^u fxeTddtjKev). Wolf {Prolegomena ch. i) 
 held that Aristarchus erred, through a too prosaic strictness (nimia 
 
96 HOMER. [CH. III. 
 
 Didymus. 24. All that is now known concerning the work of Aris- 
 tarchus has come down in a way which it is curious to trace. 
 Early in the Augustan age, about 120 years after the death 
 of Aristarchus, a treatise on his recension of Homer {irepl 
 rrj<s ^ApL(rTap)(€.Lov Sto/u^wcrews) was written by Didymus, the 
 Alexandrian grammarian, called XaX.K€VT€po<; from his inde- 
 fatigable industry. The object of Didymus was to ascertain 
 the readings approved by Aristarchus. Why was such a 
 work needed? It has been suggested that the authentic 
 copies of the Aristarchean text may have perished by the 
 fire in the Alexandrian War (47 B.C.). Such a supposition 
 seems, however, hardly necessary. The criticism of Aris- 
 tarchus had been gradually developed, and was embodied 
 in a long series of works. It is possible that a clear and 
 complete view of his opinions, with the grounds for them, 
 could be obtained only by a careful collation of his various 
 Homeric writings, and that this was the task which Didymus 
 undertook. 
 Aris- Aristonicus of Alexandria, a younger contemporary of 
 
 tonicus. Didymus, wrote a treatise on the critical signs employed by 
 Aristarchus in the I/iad and the Odyssey (-Trepl arjfxeiwv 
 'lA-taSos KOL 'oBva-a-cLas). In this book he quoted the views 
 of Aristarchus concerning the verses to which the various 
 signs were prefixed. 
 Herodian Herodian (circ. 160 A.D.) wrote a treatise on the prosody 
 !J?. and accentuation of the I/z'ad (IXiaKyj Trpoo-wSia). Nicanor 
 
 (130 A.D.) wrote a book on Homeric punctuation (Trept 
 o-rty/x?^?), — which, by the way, procured him the nickname 
 of (TTty/xartas. 
 The 25. About 200 — 250 A. D. it occurred to some student of 
 
 Epitome, ^^g /Had to make extracts from these four writers, Didymus, 
 Aristonicus, Herodian, and Nicanor. He wove his extracts 
 from them into a sort of continuous annotation on the 
 Homeric text. Thus arose the Epitome of the four treatises, 
 which, for shortness, we may call * the Epitome.' 
 
 sobrietate acuminis), in condemning too much, but had the counter- 
 vailing merit of introducing nothing rashly. 
 
CH. III.] HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. 97 
 
 In the tenth century, a transcriber of the Iliad copied Codex 
 the Epitome into its margin. By this time, the original form 
 of the Epitome seems to have been a good deal disturbed, 
 and some foreign elements had been mixed with it. The 
 tenth century manuscript into which it was copied is the 
 famous Codex Venetus A of the Iliad^ no. 454 in the 
 Library of St Mark at Venice'. The Epitome (especially 
 the part of it relating to Didymus), as preserved in this one 
 manuscript, is the principal source of all that we know in 
 detail concerning the views of Aristarchus. This manuscript 
 is also the only one which exhibits the critical signs of Aris- 
 tarchus (§ 22). The scholia of A were first published by 
 Villoison in 1788. They include scholia from other sources 
 besides the Epitome. Of these we shall speak presently. 
 
 The recension of Aristarchus was never canonised in its The Aris- 
 entirety as a standard text. But his criticism seems to have recension 
 had a much larger influence than that of any other single never 
 authority. It is probable that between about 200 and as a°whole. 
 400 A.D. a vulgate (the ancient common text modified in 
 detail) was gradually formed by a comparison of his views, 
 so far as they were known, with those of other critics ^ 
 
 26. The division of the Iliad dcnd the Odyssey into twenty- The divi- 
 four books each, denoted by the letters of the alphabet, has BookT^^ 
 sometimes been ascribed to Aristarchus, (who certainly used 
 it in his recension,) sometimes to Aristophanes or to Zeno- 
 dotus^ There is nothing to show who was the author 
 of it. All we know is that it seems to have been already 
 firmly established in the second half of the third century 
 B.C. It is older, then, than Aristophanes or Aristarchus. 
 
 ^ The contents of the Epitome are thus described by its original 
 author (cp. Ludwich i. p. 79) in a formula which the scribe of the 
 Venetus A repeats at the end of each book : — Trapa/cetrai to. ' ApiarovlKov 
 arifieta, nal to, Aidvfxov irepl rijs 'Apia-rapxeiou diopduiaeus, Tiva U Kal ex 
 T7]S 'IXiaKTJs wpoatiidias ' HpcadLavov Kal 'NiKdvopos Trepl rrjs 'Ofj.r]piKrjs 
 o-TiyfjLrjs. 
 
 2 See W. Christ in the Prolegomena to his ed. of the Iliad (1884), 
 p. 102. 
 
 2 Cp. Ludwich II. p. 220, n. 195. 
 
 J- 7 
 
98 HOMER. . [CH. III. 
 
 It is not demonstrably older than Zenodotus; but we 
 cannot say more. One thing, at least, is plain. The 
 arbitrary and mechanical neatness of the division bears 
 the stamp of an age which sought to arrange its literary 
 material in a way convenient for study and reference. This 
 suits the view that the division originated at Alexandria in 
 the third century b. c. 
 
 Writers of the fifth and fourth centuries B.C. indicate 
 passages of Homer merely by mentioning the persons or 
 events prominent in them. Thus, Herodotus (i. 116) denotes 
 //. 6. 289 ff. as ' the part where Diomede distinguishes him- 
 self (ev Ato/xT^'Seos dpLcrTTjirj) ; Thucydides (i. 10) refers to 
 the 'Catalogue' by iv v€wv KaraXoycu; Plato [Crat. p. 428 c) 
 refers to //. 9. 640 f. as occurring ' in the supplication ' {kv 
 Xltols); Arist. (Foe^. 16) refers to Od. 8. 521 as ev 'AXklvov 
 d~o\6y(o, (a title known also to Plato, J^e/>. 614 b, and pro- 
 perly confined to Od. bks. 9 — 12,) and to Od. 19. 386 ff. as 
 iv Tots vtTTTpot?. Such descriptions sufficed for their pur- 
 pose, — to recall a part of the poem to the memory; and, 
 in most cases, coincide with the names of ' rhapsodies ' or 
 cantos into which the poem was divided for recitation \ 
 Some recognised division of this kind is implied in the 
 ancient regulations for a consecutive recitation at festivals 
 (p. 77); and the record of it was preserved, at least for a 
 time, after the alphabetical division into books had been 
 adopted at Alexandria. The title of one canto sometimes 
 covered more than one of our books ; thus the AioiMyoovs 
 dpi(TT€ia answered to book 5 and (part at least) of book 6. 
 ]\Iore often, one book comprises more than one canto; as 
 book 2 includes the 'Dream' and the 'Catalogue.' 
 
 Crates 27. The great library founded at Pergamum in Mysia by 
 
 and 
 
 the Per- ^ Several ancient titles of rhapsodies are preserved by Aelian Var. 
 
 gamene Hist. 13, 14. See Christ, Proleg., pp. i — 7. Distinguish, as of a 
 
 bcnool. different class, phrases, invented for the occasion, by which short passages 
 
 are sometimes indicated: as Thuc. i. 9 kv rod aKYjirrpov r^ irapadoaei 
 
 ( = //. 2. 108 ff.): Arist. JltsL An. 9. 32 iv t-q tou Upia/Jiov e|65a) ( = //. 
 
 24. 3i6ff.): Strabo i. 17 Cv ry vpeo^elg. { = 11. 3. 222f.): Paus. i. 18. 2 
 
 iv"'Epas UpKcp =(//. 15. 36 f.). 
 
CH. III.] HOMER IN ANTIQUITY. 99 
 
 Eumenes II., early in the second century B.C., soon became 
 a rival to the older institution at Alexandria; and a like 
 rivalry developed itself between their schools of Homeric 
 interpretation. Crates, a native of Mallus in Cilicia, who 
 was librarian of Pergamum in the time of Aristarchus, 
 published Homeric commentaries \ The broad differences 
 between the two schools turned mainly on two points. 
 
 (i) The Alexandrian school, represented by Aristarchus, 
 was essentially a school of accurate grammatical scholarship. 
 In particular, the Alexandrians aimed at laying down strict 
 rules of declension and conjugation. Now, Crates was far 
 from denying the existence of ascertainable laws in language : 
 like other Stoics, he gave much attention to correct idiom 
 (EX\r)Vi(TiJL6<i). But he maintained that the Alexandrians 
 pushed their love of regularity too far. While they insisted 
 on the rules applicable to forms of words. Crates dwelt on 
 the exceptions. This is expressed in the statement that 'Analogy' 
 Aristarchus was the champion of 'analogy' (avaXoyia), and 'anomaly' 
 Crates of 'anomaly' (av(0yu,aA.6a) ^ 
 
 (2) Aristarchus, as we have seen, did not neglect the 
 questions arising immediately out of Homer's text, such as 
 those of topography or antiquities. But Crates went much 
 further afield. He conceived that Homeric criticism ought 
 to embrace a mass of problems, philosophical, historical, 
 or physical, which Homer suggested. He found in Homer, 
 not only allegories, but astronomical and cosmical theories 
 which agreed with those of Stoic writers. In his view, 
 Homer's aim was not merely that of a poet (i/^vxaywyta), 
 but pre-eminently that of a teacher (StSao-KaAta), an opinion 
 which enjoyed popularity in later times. The readings of 
 Crates are often mentioned, and are sometimes ingenious. 
 But he and his school had comparatively little influence 
 
 ^ Ludwich (i. p. 43) agrees with Wachsmuth {De Cratete Mallota, 
 p. 31, i860) in doubting whether an edition of Homer was published 
 by Crates. 
 
 - Wachsmuth De Cratete p. 15. Gellius 2. 25 (where he refers to 
 Crates and Aristarchus): avoKo'^ia. est similium similis declinatio... 
 dvufxaXia est inaequalitas declinationum consuetudinem sequens. 
 
 7—2 
 
lOO HOMER. -[CH. III. 
 
 on the Homeric text. Some pungent verses^ record their 
 scorn for the ' verbal scholarship ' of Alexandria. 
 
 Demetrius. 28. Among other ancient scholars who dealt with 
 Homer, Demetrius of Scepsis in the Troad {circ. 190 b. c.) de- 
 serves mention, on account of the fame enjoyed in anti 
 quity by his labours on Homeric topography. His TpcutKos 
 8ta/coo-/xos, *The Marshalling of the Trojans,' was a work 
 in 30 books on the catalogue of the Trojan forces in 
 Iliad 2. He agreed with the general opinion of the best 
 ancient judges in rejecting the claim of the Greek Ilium 
 (Hissarlik) to represent the site of Homeric Troy. His 
 work, which is often quoted by ancient writers, appears 
 to have united multifarious and exhaustive learning with 
 a high degree of critical acuteness. 
 
 Eustathius. Midway between the ancient and modern studies of 
 Homer, we find the great compilation of Eustathius, arch- 
 bishop of Thessalonica in the latter half of the 12th cen- 
 tury. It is entitled, IlapcKySoXat eis r^v 'Ofxtjpov 'lAiaSa Kot 
 'OSvo-o-ctW, ie. 'excerpts' bearing on the poems I The 
 excerpts are made from a very large number of earlier 
 writers, and include matter of every kind which can illustrate 
 either the language or the subject-matter of Homer. 
 Scholia. 29. Many traces of ancient work on Homer, which would 
 
 otherwise have been wholly lost, are preserved in the scholia, 
 which, especially in the case of the I/iad, are most im- 
 portant. The scholia in the Codex Venetus (A) of the 
 I/i'ad come mainly from two sources, (i) One of these is 
 the Epitome of the four treatises, described above. The 
 scholia from this source are the most valuable of all. 
 (2) The other source appears to have been a large body of 
 commentary, selected from various authors, and compiled 
 
 1 By Herodicus (a/. Athen. p. 222 a), who describes the Aristarcheans 
 as 'buzzing in corners, busy with monosyllables': yuviojSoin^vKes, 
 fiovoavXka^oL, oTcri fiiixriXev \ to <T<plp Kal a(p03tv koI rb fxlv rjhk rb vLv. 
 (Aristarchus had pointed out that Homer uses only fXLv, not vlv.) 
 
 2 TrapeKJSdWeiv meaning, 'to make extracts in the course of one's 
 readins:.' 
 
CH. III. J HOMER IN ANTIQUIT\. 10 I 
 
 later than the time of Porphyrius {circ. 270 a.d.), of whose 
 * Homeric Problems' much use was made. In contrast 
 with the Epitome, the scholia from this second source deal 
 less with textual criticism, and more with allegorising 
 interpretations, mythology, or criticism of poetical style. 
 These scholia are found not only in Venetus A, but also, 
 with modifications, in some other MSS.^ For scholia on the 
 Odyssey^ the most important MS. is the Harleianus, no. 
 5674 in the British Museum, of the thirteenth century. 
 
 30. The results of inquiry into the ancient study of Our text 
 Homer, as briefly given in the foregoing pages, have more 
 than a historical interest; more, too, than a critical value 
 in relation to particular points. They establish a general 
 conclusion of the highest importance in regard to the 
 whole existing text of Homer^ It is as follows. 
 
 1 These are: B = Codex Venetus no. 453 (nth, or perh. loth, 
 cent.): V=:cod. Victorianus no. 16 in the Munich Library (i6th cent.?), 
 which has only scholia, without text : the cod. Townleianus in the 
 British Museum, which has been regarded as the source of V : and 
 L = codex Lipsiensis. See Ludwich i. pp. 83 fif. The shorter scholia 
 variously known as the 'brevia,' 'vulgata,' 'minora,' or 'Didymi,* 
 (found in many MSS., and first published in 1517,) are almost worth- 
 less. 
 
 2 The most important MSS. of the Iliad are the following, (i) 
 A = codex Venetus A, in Library of St Mark, no. 454 (loth cent.), a 
 parchment folio of 327 leaves. Some of the ancient leaves (19 in all) 
 have been lost in different places, and replaced by a late hand. Its 
 unique interest consists in the scholia, and the critical signs of 
 Aristarchus (as described above). Its text of the Iliad differs from that 
 of all our other MSS. in being more strongly influenced by the readings 
 of Aristarchus. (2) B: see last note. (3) C = Laurentianus 32. 5, in 
 the Laurentian Library at Florence (loth or nth cent.). (4) 
 D = Laurent. 32. 15 (nth cent.): perhaps the best after A. (5) The 
 Townleianus: see last note. — Some fragments exist, older than A, but 
 of no critical importance; viz.: (i) three papyrus fragments, found in 
 Egypt, two of which are prob. of the ist century B.C. (2) 800 lines 
 from different parts of the Iliad, in a 6th cent. MS. (the Codex 
 Ambrosianus)^ edited at Milan by Mai in 1819. (3) A Syrian 
 palimpsest (in the Brit. Museum) of the 6th or 7th cent., containing 
 3873 lines from books 12 — 16, and 18—24. For the text of the 
 
£Q2 
 
 HOMER. [gH. III. 
 
 We saw that the editions used by Aristarchus re- 
 presented an older common text, or vulgate, and that one 
 of these editions was that of Antimachus {circ. 410 B.C.), in 
 which the variations appear to have been only of the same 
 small kind as in the rest. Hence there is the strongest 
 reason for believing that the common text of 200 e, c. 
 went back at least to the fifth century b. c. But Aristarchus 
 caused no breach in the transmission of that common text 
 He made no wild conjectures or violent dislocations. He 
 handed on what he had received, with such help towards 
 exhibiting it in a purer form as careful collation and study 
 could give; and so, with comparatively slight modifications, 
 it descended to the age from which our MSS. date. Our 
 common text, then, we may reasonably believe, is funda- 
 mentally the same as that which was known to Aristarchus ; 
 and therefore, in all probability, it rests on the same basis 
 as the text which was read by Plato and Thucydides. 
 
 Odyssey, the best MSS. are the HarUianus (see above in text); and 
 the Augustaniis [Monacensis), no. 519 B in the Munich Librar}-, of the 
 13th cent, according to the catalogue, but more probably of the 14th or 
 i=th. See La Roche, Homer. Textkritik, p. 481. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 The Homeric Question. 
 
 I. From an early time down to the fourth century B.C. 
 other poems besides the Iliad and the Odyssey were cur- 
 rently ascribed to Homer (p. 85). The Alexandrian criticism 
 of the third century B.C. arrived at the conclusion that 
 the Iliad and the Odyssey were his only genuine works. 
 iAt that point the ancient scrutiny of Homeric authorship 
 may be said to have stopped. A few doubters went 
 further ; but they were almost unheeded. 
 
 The existence of ancient x^pf-^ovres or ' Separaters ' — The 
 who assigned the Iliad to Homer, and the Odyssey to C^^*^ 
 another author — ^is known chiefly from the allusions to their 
 opinion in the scholia of the Codex Venetus. The scholium 
 on Iliad 12. 45 mentions a reading given by Aristarchus 
 €v TO) 7r/)09 TO Hevcovos TrapdSo^ov, in his ' Treatise against the 
 Paradox of Xenon.' The other name mentioned in this 
 connection is that of Hellanicus, a grammarian who was 
 the elder contemporary of Aristarchus. It might be inferred 
 from the existence of such a phrase as ol xt^pt^ovre? that 
 Xenon and Hellanicus were merely the most prominent 
 members of a literary sect which shared their view \ But 
 we know nothing of their argument, except that it must 
 have turned partly on style. They produced no effect 
 on the ancient world. Seneca refers to the question 
 in a tone which shows that it was well known in the first 
 
 ^ See Bernhardy, Gk. Lit. ii. 114. 
 
:o4 
 
 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 century a.d., but that he regarded it as an unprofitable 
 
 subtlety'. Suidas {circ. iioo a.d.) is still able to say that 
 
 the Iliad and Odyssey are undisputed^ works of Homer. 
 
 Ancient criticism was not, indeed, a stranger to the idea of 
 
 *many Homers '^ But that phrase had nothing to do with 
 
 any modern theory of a composite authorship for the Iliad 
 
 and the Odyssey. The 'many Homers' were merely poets -who 
 
 sought to associate their independent work wdth an illustrious 
 
 name. 
 
 The 2. To the modern mind the Iliad and the Odyssey 
 
 modern present two main problems, (i) The first is the fact 
 
 meric of their existence. Greek literature opens with these 
 
 9^^^," finished masterpieces. We are certain that ruder work 
 
 had gone before, but we know nothing of it. This 
 
 phenomenon was less striking to the old Greeks than it is 
 
 to us, since they knew no literature but their own. It is 
 
 fully appreciated only when a comparison with other early 
 
 literatures shows it to be unparalleled. 
 
 (2) The second problem depends on the inner 
 characteristics of the poems. Each of them forms an 
 organic and artistic whole. Yet each contains some parts 
 which appear to disturb the plan, or to betray inferior 
 workmanship. How can we account at once for the 
 general unity and for the particular discrepancies ? 
 
 These two problems — the external and the internal — are 
 the basis of 'the Homeric question '\ The modern 
 
 ^ De Brevitate Vitae c. 13 (eiusdemne auctoris essent llias et 
 Odyssea). 
 
 - ava/x(pi\eKTa {s. v. "Ofirjpos) : justly noticed by Geddes as a proof 
 that the Chorizontes ' were virtually silenced, and Antiquity refused to 
 listen to them,' Problem of the Homeric Poems, p. 6. 
 
 2 "0/XT]poi yap TToXXol ye-yovaat ^Xy tov wdXai. ttjv kXtJclv XapL^avofTes, 
 Proclus (commentator on Hesiod), aj>. Gaisford Poet. Min. Gr. iii. 
 scholia, p. 6, quoted by Geddes {Problejii of the Homeric Poems p. 7), 
 who adds Eustathius 4, ws 5^ koI ttoWoI "OfirjpoL. Proclus was arguing 
 that Hesiod's competitor in the traditional ' contest ' was not the Homer, 
 but a Phocian Homer of later date. 
 
 * Cp. Volkmann, Geschichte unci Kritik der IVolfschen Prolegomena 
 zu Homer, c. i. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. I05 
 
 discussion of the Homeric question, in a critical sense, 
 began with Wolf's Prolegomena (1795). 
 
 3. Before Wolf, we meet, indeed, with expressions of Surmises 
 opinion by other scholars which might be regarded as ^^°ij^ 
 partly anticipating his view. But these, in so far as they 
 
 were not mere conjecture, were based on the ancient 
 tradition that the poems of Homer had been scattered 
 until Peisistratus caused them to be collected. A famous 
 passage in Josephus {circ, 90 a.d.) was also suggestive. 
 *The present use of alphabetical writing,' Josephus says, 
 * cannot have been known to the Greeks of the Trojan war. 
 The Greeks have no literature older than Homer; and 
 Homer lived after the war. And they say (<^ao-tV) that 
 even Homer did not leave his poetry i?i writings but that it 
 was transmitted by memory (SLaixvrjixovevofMivrjv), and after- 
 wards put together from the separate songs {Ik twj/ dariJidTwv 
 voTTepov (TvvTiOrjvai) : hence the nu??iber of discrepancies which 
 it presents'^. 
 
 Here, Josephus does not merely reproduce the tradition 
 of a collection by Peisistratus : he states that, in the received 
 belief of the Greeks, Homer did not use writing ; that the 
 poems had been transmitted only by memory ; and that this 
 fact accounted for their inconsistencies. 
 
 4. It was by such hints that the moderns before Wolf 
 were guided. Isaac Casaubon (1559-1614), referring in a 
 note on Diogenes Laertius (9. 12) to the passage just quoted 
 from Josephus, remarked that we could scarcely hope for a 
 sound text of Homer, no matter how old our MSS. might 
 be. The Dutch scholar Jacob Perizonius in his Animad- 
 versiones Historicae (1684) accepted the account given by 
 Josephus, and brought it into connection with other ancient 
 notices. 
 
 Bentley, in his ' Remarks ' on the ' Discourse of Free- 
 Thinking' by Anthony Collins (17 13), supposes that a poet 
 
 ^ Josephus /card 'Att^wi'os I. 2 p. 175 (Bekk.). He is maintaining 
 that no argument against the antiquity of the Jews can be drawn from 
 the silence of Greek writers. 
 
Io6 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 named Homer lived about 1050 B.C., and 'wrote' both 
 the Iliad and the Odyssey. Each consisted of several 
 short lays, which Homer recited separately. These lays cir- 
 culated merely as detached pieces, until they were collected 
 in the time of Peisistratus {circ. 550 B.C.), into our two epics \ 
 Vico. 5. Giambattista Vico, of Naples (born 1668), touched on 
 
 the origin of the Homeric poems in some notes (1722) with 
 which he supplemented his treatise on 'Universal Law'. 
 Here his point was much the same as Bentley's in answer 
 to Collins, — viz., that the Homeric poetry is not a conscious 
 effort of profound philosophy, but the mirror of a simple 
 age. In the second edition of his Scienza Nuova (1730) 
 1 he went further. He there maintains that ' Homer ' is a 
 collective name for the work of many successive poets. 
 These, in the course of many generations, gradually 
 produced the poems which the Peisistratidae first collected 
 into our Iliad and Odyssey. But, said Vico, though there 
 were many Homers, we may say that there were pre- 
 eminently tivo — the Homer of the Iliad^ who belonged to 
 North-east Greece {i.e. Thessaly), and the Homer of the 
 Odyssey, who came later, and belonged to South-west 
 Greece {i.e. the Western Peloponnesus and adjacent 
 islands). Vico did not bring critical proofs of his proposi- 
 tions. He had no influence on Wolf or the Wolfians. Yet 
 his theory must at least be regarded as a remarkable 
 example of divining instinct". 
 
 ^ Cp. 'Bentley,' in 'English Men of Letters,' pp. 146 ff. Collins 
 had maintained that the Iliad was 'the epitome of all arts and 
 sciences,' and that Homer 'designed his poem for eternity, to please 
 and instruct mankind.' Bentley replies, 'Take my word for it, poor 
 Homer, in those circumstances and early times, had never such 
 aspiring thoughts. He wrote a sequel of sojigs and rhapsodies, to be sung 
 by himself for small earnings and good cheer, at festivals and other days 
 of merriment; the Bias he made for the men, and the Odysseis for the 
 other sex'. The phrase, '« sequel,^ is ambiguous: as he goes on to 
 sa\', ' These loose songs were not collected together in the form of an 
 epic poem till Pisistratus' time, above 500 years after,' he perhaps 
 did not mean, 'a connected sexit?,.'' 
 
 2 Professor Flint, in a monograph on Vico (1884), pp. 173 — 178, gives 
 
CH. IV.J THE HOMERIC QUESTION. IO7 
 
 But the work which had most effect, before the ap- Robert 
 pearance of the Prolegomena^ was undoubtedly Robert Wood. 
 AVood's ^ Essay on the Ongi?ial Genius of Hojner' {i']6())\ 
 In one chapter he discussed the question whether the art 
 of writing was known to Homer, and answered it in the 
 negative. This view had never before been enforced by 
 critical argument. F. A. Wolf (born in 1759) read Wood's 
 essay in his student-days at Gottingen, and refers to it with 
 some praise in the Frolegofnena^. Wood's doctrine about 
 writing became, in fact, the very keystone of Wolf's theory. 
 
 6. Wolfs 'Prolegomena' — a small octavo volume of Wolf's 
 280 pages — appeared at Halle in 1795, with a dedication to ^^^^^' 
 David Ruhnken, as 'chief of critics'^ After some general 
 
 a full and clear account of his Homeric theory. Without going so far 
 as to hold that Vico's 'discovery of the true Homer' (as he himself 
 called it) was *a complete anticipation of the so-called Wolfian theory' 
 (p. 176), I agree in thinking that adequate justice has scarcely been done 
 to Vico. Wolf, some time after he had published the Prolegomena, had 
 his attention drawn to Vico by Melchior Cesarotti (translator of Homer 
 and Ossian). The review of Vico which he wrote in the Mtcseum 
 der Alterthumswissenschaft I. 1807, pp. 555 ff., is contained in his Kleine 
 Schriften ii. pp. 157 ff. 
 
 1 Heyne, who was then by general consent the foremost 'humanist' 
 of Germany, reviewed Wood's Essay in enthusiastic terms (1770): 
 ' We have to this day seen no one who has penetrated so deeply into 
 Homer's spirit.' The first German translation appeared in 1773, the 
 second (revised) in 1778, — both by Prof. Michaelis of Gottingen, where 
 F. A. Wolf finished his studies in 1779. V^oli {Proleg. xii) quotes the 
 2nd English edit, of 1775. 
 
 2 c. xii., where, speaking of Wood's * celebratissimus liber,' he 
 remarks (in a foot-note), * plura sunt scite et egregie animadversa, nisi 
 quod subtilitas fere deest, sine qua historica disputatio persuadet, non 
 fidem facit. 
 
 ^ The volume of 'Prolegomena' is called 'I.', and we read 'Pars 
 Prima' at p. xxiv : but the second part, which was to have dealt with 
 the principles of Homeric textual criticism, was never published. It was 
 not Wolfs first contribution to Homeric studies, though he was only 
 36 when it appeared. In an essay addressed to Heyne (1779) he had 
 indicated his views as to the age of writing in Greece, which can be 
 traced also in his introductions to the Iliad and Odyssey, published in 
 1784. This was before the publication of the Codex Venetus by 
 
Io8 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 remarks on the critical office in regard to Homer's text, Wolf 
 proceeds to discuss the history of the poems from about 950 
 B. c. — which he takes as the epoch of matured Ionian poetry 
 — down to the time of Peisistratus (about 550 b. c). The 
 four main points which he seeks to prove are the following, 
 (i) The Homeric poems were composed without the 
 aid of writing, which in 950 B.C. was either wholly 
 unknown to the Greeks, or not yet employed by them 
 for literary purposes \ The poems were handed down 
 by oral recitation, and in the course of that process suf- 
 fered many alterations, deliberate or accidental, by the 
 rhapsodes. (2) After the poems had been written down 
 €irc. 550 B. c, they suffered still further changes. These 
 were deliberately made by 'revisers' (8tao-/<ei;acrrat), or by 
 learned critics who aimed at polishing the work, and bring- 
 ing it into harmony with certain forms of idiom or canons 
 of art. (3) The Iliad has artistic unity ; so, in a still higher 
 degree, has the Odyssey'. But this unity is not mainly due 
 
 Villoison (1788). Wolf greatly overrated the difference between the 
 ancient copies which the scholia of Venetus A disclosed ; and reviewing 
 Villoison's edition in 1791, he spoke of it as proving that Homer 
 had long been transmitted by memory alone. 
 
 ^ He insists that poems on such a scale as our Iliad and Odyssey 
 could not have been composed without writing. Suppose it done, 
 however, the composer would have had no public, since he would have 
 had no readers : — ' The poems would have resembled a htige ship, built, in 
 some inland spot, and in days before naval science, by a man who had 
 neither engines and rolleis for latmching it, nor even a sea on which to 
 try his crafts [Proleg. c. xxv.) 
 
 ^ Thus he says {Proleg. c. xxxi) that the 'carmina' which compose 
 the Iliad axid. Odyssey, 'though separated by the distance of one or two 
 centuries ' [indicating that Wolf would have placed the latest rhapsodies 
 about 750 — 700 B.C.], 'deceive us by a general uniformity and resem- 
 blance of character. All the books have the same tone, the same 
 moral complexion, the same stamp of language and of rhythm.' — And so 
 {Proleg. c. xxvii) he says that, in the Odyssey especially, the * admirabilis 
 su7nmaetcompages^xo praeclarissimo monumento Graeci ingeniihabenda 
 est,' but adds (c. xxviii) that this consummate piecing together is just 
 what we should not expect from an early poet who merely recited 
 single rhapsodies (singulas tantum rhapsodias decantantem). 
 
CH. IV.J THE HOMERIC QUESTION. lOQ 
 
 to the original poems; rather it has been superinduced by 
 their artificial trcdtment in a later age. (4) The original 
 poems, from which our Iliad and our Odyssey have been 
 put together, were not all by the same author. 
 
 7. But Wolf was far from denying a personal Homer. Wolf re- 
 He supposes that a poet of commanding genius, — whom ^°^"j!f^^ 
 he often calls Homer, — 'began the weaving of the web,' sonal 
 and ' carried it down to a certain point.' Nay more : ^^^-^^'^^ 
 this Homer wove the greater part of the songs which were 
 afterwards united in the Iliad and the Odyssey. This is 
 
 said in the Prolegomena^ . But it is said still more em- 
 phatically in the Preface to his edition of the Iliad, 
 published at nearly the same time^. '// is certain that, 
 alike in the Iliad and in the Odyssey, the web was begun, 
 and the threads were carried to a certain point, by the poet 
 who had first taken up the theme... Perhaps it will never 
 be possible to show, even with probability, the precise poiiits 
 at which ?iew filaments or dependencies of the texture begin : 
 but this, at least, if I mistake not, will admit of proof — that 
 we must assign to Hofner only the greater part of the songs, 
 and the remainder to the IIo7?ieridae, who were following out 
 the lines traced by him.' 
 
 8. Nothing in this passage is more striking than Wolf's 
 prophetic sense that it would never be possible to show 
 exactly where different hands in the poems begin and end. 
 When Wolf conceded 'the greater part' of the poems to one 
 
 ^ Proleg. c. xxviii ad fin. Atque haec ratio eo probabilior fiet, si 
 ab ipso primo auctore filum fabulae iam aliquatenus deductum esse 
 apparebit. — lb. c. xxxi. At nonne omnibus erit manifestum...totas 
 rhapsodias inesse quae Homeri non sunt, id est eius, a quo maior 
 pars et priorum rhapsodiarum series deducta est? 
 
 ^ Praefat. p. xxviii. Quoniam certum est, tarn in Iliade quam in 
 Odyssea orsam telam et deducta aliquatenus fila esse a vate qui 
 princeps ad canendum accesserat...forsitan ne probabiliter quidem 
 demonstrari poterit, a quibus locis potissimum nova subtemina et limbi 
 procedant: at id tamen, ni fallor, poterit effici, ut liquido appareat 
 Homero nihil praeter maiorem partem carminum tribuendam esse, 
 reliqua Homeridis, praescripta lineamenta persequentibus. 
 
no 
 
 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 great poet, he was moved by his feeling for their internal 
 
 characteristics — for the splendid genius, and the general 
 
 unity. The whole argument for his theory^ on the other 
 
 hand, was essentially external. It was based on certain 
 
 historical considerations as to early Greek civilisation and 
 
 the development of poetical art. He has himself told us, 
 
 in memorable words, how he felt on turning from his own 
 
 theory to a renewed perusal of the poems. As he steeps 
 
 himself in that stream of epic story which glides like a 
 
 clear river, his own arguments vanish from his mind; 
 
 the pervading harmony and consistency of the poems 
 
 assert themselves with irresistible power ; and he is angry 
 
 with the scepticism which has robbed him of belief in one 
 
 Homer\ 
 
 Objec- 9- III Wolfs theory, the fundamental proposition is the 
 
 tions to (denial that a literary use of writing was possible for Greeks 
 
 view of about 950 B. c. This proposition is, however, by no means 
 
 writing, go certain as Wolf held it to be. 
 
 The following points may be noticed, (i) It is true 
 that the extant evidence from inscriptions does not go 
 above the 7th century b. c. But it cannot be assumed that 
 the monumental use of writing preceded its application to 
 ordinary affairs. The opposite supposition would be more 
 reasonable. And if the Greek writing on the earliest extant 
 marbles is clumsy, this does not necessarily prove that the 
 Greeks were then unfamiliar with the art of writing, but 
 only that they had not yet acquired facility in carving- 
 characters on stone ^ Long before that time, they may 
 
 ^ Preface to the Iliad, p. xxii : quoties. . .penitus immergor in ilium veluti 
 prone at liquido alveo decurrentem tenorem actionum et narrationum : 
 quoties animadverto ac reputo mecum quam in universum aestimanti 
 unus his carminibus insit color... vix mihi quisquam irasci et succensere 
 gravius poterit, quam ipse facio mihi. 
 
 2 Mr Hicks, in his excellent Manual of Greek Historical htsci-ip- 
 tions ^ observes (p. i) : * Certainly the cramped and awkward characters 
 of the earliest extant marbles prove that writing must have been an 
 unfamiliar art in Greece as late as the 7th century B.C.' But, not 
 to mention the earliest ' Cyclic ' poems, it is certain that writing was 
 
CH. IV. J THE HOMERIC QUESTION. Ill 
 
 have attained to ease in writing on softer and more perish- 
 able materials, such as leaves, prepared skins ^ wood, or 
 wax. 
 
 (2) Commercial intercourse between the Greeks and 
 the Phoenicians, from whom the Greeks obtained their 
 alphabet, must have been frequent from about 11 00 b. c, or 
 earlier still. The Phoenicians, as Josephus testifies, had 
 from the earliest age appUed the art of writing, not only ' to 
 the recording of their public acts,* but also *to the business 
 of daily life' (et? re ras Trept rov (Slov oiKOVofXLas kol Trpo? rrjv 
 Twv KOLVoiv epywv TrapdSocrtv)^. It would be Strange if a 
 people so quick-witted as the Greeks, while advancing in 
 other parts of civilisation, had delayed to follow this ex- 
 ample till so comparatively late a time in their development 
 as the 7 th century B. C. 
 
 (3) We know, too, that long epic poems (some of those 
 known as the 'Cyclic'), which never enjoyed the same kind 
 of popularity as 'Homer,' came down from the 8th century 
 B. c. : and it is most improbable that these relatively ob- 
 scure works should have been preserved without the aid 
 of writing. Such were the Cypria ascribed to Stasinus, and 
 the Acthiopis of Arctinus. It is certain that writing was used 
 by Archilochus and other poets of the early 7th century. 
 Wolf himself, indeed, admits the occasional use of writing 
 by poets as early as 776 b. c.^ 
 
 already used by poets who lived in the early part of that century, — as 
 we shall see. 
 
 ^ Humboldt {Atlas p. ^6) remarks that the old Mexican ' manuscripts* 
 are written on deer-skin, cotton cloth, or paper made from the maguy 
 plant, and suggests that, among the Greeks also, the use of prepared 
 skins may have preceded that of paper. We know that it preceded the 
 use oi papyrus. Wolfs conjecture that the use of such skins {8t<p64pai) 
 for writing came into Greek from the East only circ. 'j'j6 B.C. ('sub 
 epochum Olympiadum,' Proleg, p. Ixii) lacks proof, and is against all 
 probability. 
 
 ^ /cara 'Airiuvos I. 6. 
 
 ^ Wolf is a thoroughly candid inquirer. In this case, while 
 admitting that Arctinus and others of the early 8th century wrote their 
 poems, he seeks to distinguish such instances from an admission ' de 
 
112 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 (4) The balance of probabilities seems to be in favour 
 of the view that the 'baneful tokens' (o-qixara Xvypd) of 
 //iad 6. 168 denote some kind of alphabetical or syllabic 
 writing^ But even if we granted that no allusion to writing 
 occurs in the I/iad or Odyssey, no valid argument could be 
 drawn from a silence which, in heroic poetry meant for 
 recitation, may have been conventional. 
 
 (5) Herodotus, speaking of a Greek inscription which 
 he saw at Thebes, supposes it to date from many centuries 
 before his own time^ A similar belief as to the high anti- 
 quity of writing among the Greeks sometimes seems to be 
 implied in the Greek literature of the 5th and 4th centuries 
 
 (6) Recent researches have invalidated the argument 
 
 universa Graecia et paullo tritiore usu artis institntoqne conscribmdortwi 
 libroriim'' {Proleg. p. Ixx). But (i) why is the line to be drawn 
 precisely at 776 or 800 B.C. ? And (2), supposing an earlier though not 
 general use, why should not * Homer' have been one of the few who 
 used writing? 
 
 ^ iropev 5' o ye arjixara Xvypd, \ ypaxj/as ev TrlvaKL tttvktc^ dv/.i.ocpd6pa 
 TToWd, I Set^at 8' 'qvujyeLV (^ Trev6ep{^. On the tenth day the king of 
 Lycia ^Vee a^/^a lUadai (176), and 'when he had received the criixa 
 KaKbv ' (178), set about slaying Bellerophon. Now, as Kreuser long ago 
 pointed out {Vorfragen iiber Romeros, p. 202, 1828), tttu/ctcP implies that 
 the arjfjLaTa (or crrj/xa) could have been understood by Bellerophon 
 himself; while ttoXXo. suggests words rather than picture-writing. 
 Ulrici {Geschichte der Hellettischen Dichtkimst i. 226) argued that 5e?$at 
 is inapplicable to a letter: but why? As Thirlwall says {Hist. Gr. 
 I. 502 ed. 1855) it could mean, '■produce'' (or better, perhaps, ''present''). 
 Mr Monro (note on //. 6. 168, ed. 1884) inclines, with Mr Isaac 
 Taylor {Alphabet II. 117), to the view in the text. 
 
 ^ Her. 5. 59 roMra. TjXiKirjv €lt] av Kara AaCov tov AajSSoLKov {i.e. 
 considerably earlier than the Trojan war, according to the mythical 
 chronology). It is obviously immaterial what the age of the eTrLypa/uL,ua 
 really was. The point is that Herodotus felt no difficulty about his 
 guess, but makes it in a matter-of-course way. 
 
 ^ Thus Eur. Jlipp. 45 1 makes the Nurse say that the loves of the 
 gods are known to all who have ypacpds tQv iraKaiT^piav — plainly mean- 
 ing (I think) writings, not paintings. So in /. A. 35 Agamemnon 
 writes a letter. But this topic of the indirect literary evidence is so 
 largely a question of tone and particular context that space excludes it 
 here. 
 
CH, IV. I THE HOPIERIC QUESTION. II3 
 
 that the poems must have been made long before they were 
 written because they often imply a sound (the 'digamma') 
 which is not known to have been represented by a letter in 
 any ancient MS. of Homer \ 
 
 (7) The idea, 'a literary use of writing,' needs definition. 
 If it is taken to mean, 'the wide circulation of writings by 
 numerous copies, for a reading public,' certainly nothing of 
 the kind seems to have existed before the latter part of 
 the 5th century b. c. But suppose that a man had made 
 a number of verses in his head, and was afraid of forgetting 
 them. If he could use 'the Phoenician signs' well enough 
 to keep his accounts (for instance), or other memoranda, 
 why should he not write down his verses? That, in fact, is 
 what Wolf allows that some men did as early at least as 
 776 B.C. ffhe verses might never be read by anybody 
 except himself, or those to whom he privately bequeathed 
 them : but his end would have been gained. ' 
 
 10. Hence, with regard to the Wolfian theory, we have Sum- 
 to discriminate between three things, which rest on different "^^^7* 
 levels of probability, — memorial composition, oral publica- 
 tion, and oral transmission. 
 
 {a) As to memorial composition, it would be rash to 
 deny that an exceptionally gifted man could have composed 
 both our Iliad and our Odyssey without the aid of writing. 
 Similar feats of memory are alleged ^ {b) As to oral publi- 
 cation, it is certain that the Homeric poems were for centuries 
 known to Greece at large mainly through the recitation of 
 detached parts, {c) But a serious difficulty is raised by the 
 theory of an exclusively oral transmission. The difficulty 
 does not primarily concern the capacity of the human 
 
 1 See below, § 39. 
 
 '^ The German poem Parzival, a romantic epic of more than 24,000 
 verses, was composed in the 13th century by Wolfram von Eschenbach, 
 a poor knight, who confesses that he could neither read nor write. 
 Lachmann appeals to this instance. But, before applying it to the 
 Homeric question, it would be pertinent to know whether Eschenbach 
 commanded the aid of an amanuensis. 
 
 T. 8 
 
114 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 memory. The true difficulty is that an approximately ac- 
 curate tradition, through centuries, of such vast works, 
 ^ without help from writing, implies an organisatio?i of which 
 there is no trace. The nearest analogies which can be 
 produced (as from India) presuppose a religious or sacer- 
 dotal basis. We have to conceive of Homeric priesthoods 
 or colleges, in which, from generation to generation, lives 
 were concentrated on this task. But such an idea is wholly 
 foreign to the free spirit in which Hellenic life and art were 
 developed; nor does it consist with what we know of the 
 wandering rhapsodes. 
 
 The general conclusion, then, is as follows. It cannot 
 be proved that the Homeric poems were not _committed to 
 writing either when_origiiially composed, or soon_afLerwards. 
 
 CFor centuries they were known to the Greek world at large 
 chiefly through the mouths of rhapsodes. But that fact 
 IS not inconsistentwiTh the stipposition that the rhapsodes 
 possessed written copies. On the other hand, a purely oral 
 transmission is hardly conceivable. I 
 The *^ II. Next to the argument from writing. Wolfs mainstay 
 
 story ^vas the story that the scattered poems of 'Homer' had 
 Peisis- been first collected and written down at Athens in the time 
 tratus. Qf Peisistratus. The story is both doubtful and vague. It 
 occurs in no ancient writer before Cicero, and in no Greek 
 writer before Pausanias^ According to another tradition, 
 
 ^ Cic. De Orat. 3. 34. 137 qui primus Homeri libros, confusos 
 antea, sic disposuisse dicitur ut nunc habemus. Pausan. 7. 26 IleKr^ 
 CTparos '^TTTi TO, Ofx-qpov dteaTraafj-^va re Kal aXka aXKaxou /xurjuovevo/xeva 
 Tjdpot^eTo. One of the Bioi O/m^pov (which are all, probably, of the 
 Christian era) quotes an inscription from a statue of Peisistratus at 
 Athens, in which he is made to say of himself— t6i' "0/j.r]pov \ rjepotaa, 
 <rTropa5r]i> rb irplv aeidS/xevov. It is most unlikely that such a statue 
 existed (after 510 B.C., at least), and the inscription is probably a late 
 rhetorical figment — possibly the prime source of the story which first 
 appears in Cicero. A scholium on Plautus, found after Wolf's time and 
 edited by Ritschl {die Alexandr. Bibliothek p. 4) gives the story in a 
 somewhat more circumstantial form : Pisistratus sparsatn prius Homeri 
 poesim . . .sollerti cura in ea quae nunc ejcstant redegit volumina, usus ad 
 hoc opus divinum industria quattuor celeberrimorum et eruditissimorufu 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. II 5 
 
 which has older authority, it was Lycurgus who, about 776 
 B. c, first brought to Greece Proper a complete copy of the 
 Homeric poems, previously known there only by scattered 
 fragments \ Even if the story about Peisistratus is accepted, 
 it does not disprove the original unity of the poemS. When, 
 for ages, rhapsodies had been recited singly, doubts might 
 have arisen as to their proper sequence and their several 
 relations to the plan of the great epic' It would satisfy the 
 vague shape in which the story has reached us, if we 
 regarded Peisistratus, not as creating a new unity, but as" 
 seeking to preserve an old unity which had been obscured ^ 
 
 hommuni, videlicet Concyli (?), Onomacriti Atheniensis, Zopyri Hera- 
 deotae, et Orphei Crotoniatae. This was taken from a comment by 
 Tzetzes (12th cent.), first published by Keil: 'O/xrjpeiovs 6^ /St'/SAofs... 
 avvT^deLKav <X7rov8y IleicrtVr/jaros [? IletcricrTpaWSat] irapa twv reaaapuv 
 TovTUP cocpQiv' iiri KoyK^\ov, 'OvoixaKplrov re 'Adrjvalov, Zooirvpov re 
 'Hpa/cAewrou /cat KpoTajvidrov 'Op^^m. Another form of the same state- 
 ment has been published by Cramer from a Paris MS. : oi dk riaaapal 
 Ticri TU!U iiri UeicriaTpaTov diopdcoaiv duacpipovaiv, 'Opcpd KpoTuvLdrrj, 
 Z(aTrvpu}'B.paK\e(xn"]3,'OvoiJ.aKpiT({}'A67]valq}Kal Kay iirl KoyKvXu: (sic). 
 In the margin of the Par. MS. is 'A6r]vo8(ip(i} eirlKKriv [eVkXijo-ti'] KopSi;- 
 Xt'wn: which probably means that Athenodorus CordyHon, a Pergamene 
 grammarian of the 2nd cent. B.C., was taken to be the source of 
 the statement. It has been conjectured that the corrupt words ^irl 
 KoyKvKov and Kay iirl kojkvXcj} conceal iiriKov k^kXcv, and, being taken 
 for a man's name, gave rise to the tradition of a fourth commissioner. 
 But all this is doubtful. See Volkmann, pp. 333 fif. Onomacritus was *a 
 soothsayer, and editor (piaQhtii) of the oracles of Musaeus,' who was 
 expelled from Athens by Hipparchus, son of Peisistratus, because the 
 lyric poet, Lasus of Hermione, had caught him in the act of interpola- 
 ting an oracle (kp-iroL^wv es rd Movcraiov xPV^f^^^ — Her. 7. 6). 
 
 ^ Plutarch's view is that, circ. 776 B.C., the Greeks of Greece Proper 
 knew the Homeric poems only by ' a dim rumour,' — a few persons 
 possessing fragments, — until Lycurgus brought a complete copy from 
 Crete, where the poems were preserved by the descendants of Homer's 
 friend, Creophylus : — -^u yap tls -^drj 86^a rdv iwuu d/xavpa irapd toIs 
 ''EWrjaiv, eKeKTrjPTO 5' ov iroWol fi^prj ripd, <nropd5r]v rrjs Trot-^crews, ws 
 ^Tvxe, diacpepofi^vTjs {Lycurg. c. 4). The tradition about Lycurgus 
 was noticed as early as the 4th century B.C. by the historian Ephorus, 
 and Heracleides Poniicus. 
 
 ■^ Ritschl, accepting the Peisistratus story, so took it. 
 
 8—2 
 
Il6 HOMER. [CH. IV, 
 
 'Nature' 12. The Homeric poems, said Wolf, show art: 'but it is 
 
 ^arl ' ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^' ^^ ^ ^^^' comparatively near to nature ; 
 it is drawn from a native feeling for what is right and 
 beautiful ; it is not derived from the formal methods of 
 a school^'. There we see the mark of Wolfs age, which 
 was in revolt against the pedantic rules of pseudo-classicism. 
 *Art' was now associated with abstract canons on the 
 'unities,' and so forth: it was the synonym of frigid con- 
 ventionality. 'Nature' was everything that put 'art' to 
 shame; 'nature' was freedom, originality, genius*. The 
 confusion of ideas involved in this antithesis long helped to 
 complicate the Homeric question in Germany. Wolf was 
 penetrated by the idea that the original Homeric poetry was 
 the primitive poetry of the Greek people in its first youth, 
 instinct with *the divine force and breath of natural genius^'. 
 He justly says that ' Homer and Callimachus, Virgil, Non- 
 nus and j\Iilton,' are not to be read in the same spirit \ 
 
 1 Proleg. c. XII. p. xlii. In 1735 Thomas Blackwell, Professor of 
 Greek at Aberdeen, had published his ' Inquiry into the Life and 
 Writings of Homer.' It made a considerable impression both at home 
 and abroad, because it hit the mind of the age by tracing Homer's 
 excellence to the happy concurrence of natural conditions. 
 
 ^ This period of 'Sturm und Drang' ('storm and stress') was so 
 nick-named from a drama of that title by F. M. V. Klinger(born 1752). 
 Yolkmann, in his work on Wolf already cited, regards the impulse as 
 having come to Germany from the English literature of the i8th 
 century : — ' Genius and originality, those well-known watchwords of 
 our Sturm-und-Drang period, are ideas propagated to us from England ' 
 (p. 14). Cp. G. H. Lewes, Story of Goethe s Life, p. 79 : 'There was 
 one universal shout for nature. With the young, nature seemed to be 
 a compound of volcanoes and moonlight ; her force explosion, her 
 beauty sentiment. To be insurgent and sentimental, explosive and 
 lachrymose, were the true signs of genius. Everything established was 
 humdrum. Genius, abhorrent of humdrum, would neither spell correctly, 
 nor write correctly, nor demean itself correctly. It would be German — 
 lawless, rude, natural. Lawless it was, and rude it was, — but natural? 
 Not according to Nature of any reputable type.' 
 
 ^ Proleg. p. cclv Huvenilitcr ludenii populo...divina ingenii vi ac 
 spiritu.' 
 
 * ib. p. xliii. 
 
CH. IV ] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. II7 
 
 But it was an error on the other side to compare Homer 
 with the ruder forms of primitive song in other lands \ 
 Our own early ballads, for instance, are rich in the pure 
 elements of natural poetry; in genuine pathos, especially, 
 they are often unsurpassed. But the Iliad and the Odyssey 
 evidently show a larger mental grasp ; they breathe a spirit 
 of finer strain; they belong to an order of poetry which 
 comes later in the intellectual growth of a peopled /when 
 we endeavour to define Wolfs notion of j,.i|i£ioaiti4i£' poet, 
 we find only one , clear poin t. H e is a poet who, be ing 
 unable t o write^ and composing for heare rs, not for re aders, 
 makp.c; only xhnrt p nems. 
 
 13. The permanent influence of Wolfs work has been Elasti- 
 due not only to the power with which his theory was stated, ^^ipg 
 but also to the tact with which he refrained from making it theory, 
 too precise. His literary sense, keenly alive to those 
 inner traits which give each epic a general unity, mode- 
 rated his use of the external arguments. He did not 
 attempt to define exactly how much the original poet had 
 done, — where the other poets come in, — or how they differ. 
 
 1 The poems of ' Ossian ' had been published by Macpherson in 
 1760 — 65. Wolf remarks that ' Homer — i.e. the old poetry of the 
 lonians ' — stands on a higher level than * the Celtic songs of Ossian ' ; 
 but he hints at two points of analogy : — (i) the poems are not all of one 
 age ; (ii) they have not come down in their original form {Proleg. 
 p. cclv). Heyne on //. 16. 53 (ed. min.) compared Homer's similes 
 with Ossian's. 
 
 2 Wolf made many powerful converts among the German critics ; 
 but he was less successful with the poets. Schiller called the theory 
 'barbaric' Wieland, though interested, was unconvinced. Klopstock 
 was decidedly adverse. Goethe went with Wolf at first {1796), but in 
 1798 wrote to Schiller, * I am more than ever convinced of the unity and 
 indivisibility of the poem ' (the Iliad). And in the little tract called 
 ' Homer once more ' ^Homer noch einmal) that appears as his final 
 view (1821). Voss, at once scholar and poet, was also unpersuaded. 
 
 This illustrates Thirlwall's remark that critics who have studied 
 the details of the Homeric poems have usually favoured a manifold 
 authorship, while those who have dwelt rather on the general outlines 
 have tended to maintain an original unity. Poets usually look at Homer 
 in the latter way. 
 
Il8 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 Hence 'Wolfian' is a somewhat elastic term, including 
 
 several different shades of opinion. It has sometimes been 
 
 applied too narrowly, and sometimes too widely. 
 
 The distinctively 'Wolfian' doctrine is simply this, — 
 
 that the Homeric poems were put together, at the beginning 
 
 of the Greek literary age, out of shorter unwritten songs 
 
 which had come down from a primitive age. How many 
 
 of these short songs we are to conceive as due to one man, 
 
 1 was a minor point. Wolfs own belief, as we have seen^ was 
 
 I that the poet who bega7i the series of songs also composed 
 
 I most of them, and that the later poets continued the 
 
 general line of his work. 
 
 Develop- The genuine developments of Wolf's theory have shown 
 
 "l^.^*^ one of two general bents. One bent has been to make the 
 of It. ... 
 
 first poet of the series less influential than Wolf did: this is 
 
 represented by Lachmann. The other bent has been 
 
 to make him still more influential : this is represented by 
 
 Hermann. 
 
 Lach- / 14- Lachmann dissected the Iliad into eighteen sepa- 
 
 mann. /j-ate lays\ He leaves it doubtful whether they are to be 
 
 / ascribed to eighteen distinct authors. But, at any rate, he 
 
 1 maintains, each lay was originally more or less independent 
 
 \ of all the rest^ ^is main test is the inconsistency of 
 
 Retail. *^ primitive poet, he argued, would have a vivid 
 
 picture before his mind, and would reproduce it with close 
 
 ^ Betrachtungen iiber Homers Bias (Berlin, 1874). 
 
 ^ The only distinct exception admitted by Lachmann is his i6th lay 
 {=^ Iliad \iks. 18 — 22), which was intended as a sort of sequel to the 15th 
 (=//. 15. 592 to end of xvii), though by another poet. Generally, how- 
 ever, he concedes that, after the nth book of the Iliad, the distinctness 
 of the songs is less well-marked. Thus they all agree in representing 
 Agamemnon, Odysseus, and Diomedes as placed hors de combat. 
 
 Grote says that any admission as to the later songs being adapted to 
 the earlier is * a virtual surrender of the Wolfian hypothesis ' {Ilist. Gr. 
 vol. II. p. 233 note 1). This is not so. Wolf conceived the later poets 
 as carrying on the ' threads ' of the first and chief weaver (see p. 109). 
 Wolf's criticism on Lachmann would have been that the latter 
 underrated the general unity which the epics now exhibit. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. II9 
 
 consistency. He also affirms that many of the lays are 
 utterly distinct in general spirit \ Lachmann had been 
 prepared for analysing the Iliad by previously trying his 
 hand on the Nibelungenlied, in which he discovered twenty 
 independent lays^ Unfortunately for the analogy, later 
 researches have made this view of the Nibehmgenlied 'ra\- 
 probable. 
 
 The arbitrary character of such a theory as Lachmann's 
 is shown by the plurality of such theories. Kochly, too, has 
 dissected \\\^ Iliad into sixteen lays besides books 9 and 10 ^ 
 But Kochly's lays are not Lachmann's. The two operators 
 take different views of the anatomy. A 'theory of small 
 songs' {Klein-Lieder-Tkeorie), whatever special form it may 
 assume, necessarily excludes the view that any one poet had 
 a dominant influence on the general plan of the poems. «-. 
 
 15. Hermann, on the other hand, developed Wolf s view Her- 
 more in Wolf's spirit*. Hermann clearly perceived one ™^°"' 
 difficulty which Wolf had left unexplained. The weaving 
 of the Homeric web was begun, said Wolf, by the first and 
 chief poet, who carried it down ' to a certain point ' : then 
 others continued it. But why should they have continued 
 it only within such narrow limitations? Why did they 
 confine themselves to a few days in the siege of Troy? 
 Why did they sing the ' return ' of no hero except Odysseus ? 
 Because, said Hermann, the great primitive poet ('Homer') 
 had not simply carried a web down to a certain point. 
 Rather, making large use of earlier materials, he had pro- 
 duced the original sketch of our Iliad and the original 
 sketch of our Odyssey (' Ur-Ilias,^ ' Ur-Odyssee^). The task 
 
 1 * ihrem Geiste nach hochst verschiedene Lieder ' {Fernere Betrach- 
 tungen etc., p. 18, § xxiii). 
 
 2 Ueber die urspriingliche Gestalt des Gedichts von dcr Nibelungen 
 Noth, Berlin, i8i6. 
 
 * Iliadis Carmina XVI. Restituta edidit Arminms Kochly Turi- 
 censisy 1861. 
 
 ^ Dissertatio de Interpolationibus Homeri in his Opiscula, vol. v. 
 p. 52 (1834). Ueber Homer und Sappho ib. vi. pars i. p. 70 (1835). De 
 Iteratis apud Homeriim^ ib. viil. p. 11 (1840). 
 
I20 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 of after-comers was not to carry on a line of texture, but 
 merely to complete a design within fixed outlines. 
 
 In accordance with the Wolfian view of a primitive poet, 
 Hermann conceived each of these poems as short. But though 
 ^of no great compass/ the two poems excelled all other pro- 
 ductions of their age in 'spirit, vigour, and art' The poets 
 who came after Homer, down to the time of the 'Cyclic epics' 
 {i.e. to about 800 B.C.), confined themselves to engrafting 
 new work on the original Iliad and Odyssey. This work 
 took chiefly three forms, (i) They added passages imi- 
 tated from Homer, even repeating whole verses or groups 
 of verses. The opening of Iliad 8 was in Hermann's 
 view an instance of such imitation. (2) They expanded 
 passages of the original poems : thus the fight of the gods in 
 Iliad 21 was expanded from Iliad 20. 56 — 74. (3) Gene- 
 rally, they retouched or recast the original poems in such a 
 way as to invest them with a new aspect. When Hermann 
 spoke of ^interpolation^ in Homer, he did not mean only 
 the insertion of verses. Writing in Latin, he used 'inter- 
 polation' in its Latin sense, — 'furbishing up'^ These 
 later poets would have had no audience, he argued, if they 
 had stepped beyond the charmed circle traced by the 
 primitive Homer, And lest the potency of the spell should 
 seem too marvellous, he made a further supposition. 
 Homer's work was- not only supreme in merit, but new 
 in kind. The bards before him had been wholly didactic. 
 ^He was the first who sang the deeds of heroes. This 
 assumption is improbable in itself; and, if granted, would 
 not suffice to explain why two heroic themes should have 
 monopolised the epic activity of centuries. 
 
 Re- 16. Thus far we have seen Homer identified with the 
 
 action. 
 
 ^ Hermann defined his own use of the term in a letter to Ilgen, 
 prefixed to his ed. of the Hymns (1806) p. viii : ' Interpolationem autem 
 dico non modo quam nunc plerique intelligunt, quae est in adiectione 
 novorum verstmm, sed quam antiqui appellabant, cuius est omnino retn 
 -veterem nova specie induere.'' (Cp. Cic. ad Q. Fr.\\. 12 t ogam... inter • 
 polet, 'have his toga whitened anew.') 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. T2I 
 
 primitive epics of short unwritten laysj^^hat is the funda- The 
 
 mental idea common to Wolf and the genuine Wolfians, as epopee 
 
 view. 
 Lachmann and Hermann. We now turn to a radically 
 
 different conception, and one which is nearer to the 
 
 truth. In this, Homer is no longer the primitive bard. 
 
 He is the great poetical artist who, coming after the age of 
 
 short lays, frames an epic on a larger plan. He is the 
 
 founder of epopee. 
 
 This view found an able exponent in G. W. Nitzsch, Nitzsch. 
 who represents the first effective reaction against the 
 Wolfian theory \ He pointed out that some of the 'Cyclic' 
 epics, dating from the seventh and eighth centuries B.C., 
 presuppose our Iliad and Odyssey in something like their 
 present compass and form^, being designed as supplements 
 or introductions to the Homeric poems ^ He showed that 
 the Greek use of writing was presumably older than Wolf 
 had assumed, and might have been used to help the 
 memory long before there was a reading public. 
 
 ' By Homer,' says Nitzsch, * I understand the man who 
 made a great advance from the various smaller songs by older 
 
 ^ De Hisioria Homeri maximeque de scriptortim carjuinutn aetate 
 meleteniata (Hanover, 1830 — 1837. Supplementary parts were published 
 at Kiel in 1837 and 1 859). His earliest contribution to the Homeric 
 question was his Indagandae per Homeri Odysseum hitej'polationis 
 praeparatio (1828). Among his earlier Homeric writings may be 
 mentioned also the article 'Odyssee' in the ' Allgemeine Encyclopadie' 
 {1829). His Sagenpoesie der Gricchen appeared in 1852; his Beitrdge 
 zur Geschichte der episcke?t Poesie, in 1862. 
 
 2 De Hist. Horn. p. 152. He refers to (i) the Aethiopis oxidilliti 
 Persis of Arctinus, (2) the Cypria, (3) the Nostioi Hagias, (4) the Little 
 Iliad of Lesches, (5) the Telegonia of Eugammon. When these poems 
 were written, we must concede, he says, Iliadem et Odysseaf?i ambitu 
 ac forma in ujiiversum tales iam ac tanias extitisse, quantas hodie 
 habemus. 
 
 2 The first vol. of F. G. Welcker's ' Der Epische Cyclus oder 
 die homerischen Dichter' — the book which first threw a clear light 
 on the 'Cyclic* epics— appeared at Bonn in 1835 (and ed., 1865): 
 the second vol. in 1849. Nitzsch's position was much strengthened by 
 Welcker's results. 
 
122 HOMF.R. [Cir. IV. 
 
 bards which treated of the Trojan war, and shaped the 
 ''Iliad' — which previously had dealt only with the 'counsel 
 of Zeus' — into our Iliad on 'the wrath of Achilles.'. ..In 
 this poem, I fancy that much from older songs was retained. 
 The Odyssey was the work, perhaps, of the same poet, older 
 sources being used in a similar way.' But in the Odyssty, 
 Nitzsch adds, we see the poet's originality more fully than 
 in the Iliad The Odyssey was the first great epic of its 
 kind, — i.e. dealing with a complex series of romantic 
 adventures. And the details of embellishment in the 
 Odyssey were almost all due to the author himself. 
 
 Thus Nitzsch conceives Homer as a very ancient poet, 
 and as one with whom an epoch begins. He found a number 
 of short lays about Troy. He achieved a work of a new 
 kind by building up, partly from these, a large epic on 
 the wrath oi Achilles. ]\Iinor interpolations and changes 
 were made afterwards. But our Iliad, mainly the work 
 of one man, and our Odyssey, perhaps by the same 
 author, had taken substantially their present shape con- 
 siderably earlier than Soo B.C. 
 c^.ixne. 17. Grote accepts the essential part of Nitzsch's view\ 
 
 He conceives Homer as belonging to the second, not the 
 first, stage in the development of epos, — as the composer of 
 the large epic, not as the primitive bard of the short lays. 
 But he thinks that our Iliad has outgrown the plan of the 
 large poem as originally composed. That poem was on the 
 wrath of Achilles : it was an AchiUeid. Another poet, or 
 poets, aimed at converting it into a poem on the war of 
 Troy generally, — an Iliad. Whole rhapsodies were added 
 which have no strict relation with the AchiUeid proper, and 
 interrupt or unduly prolong it. 
 
 ^ Hist. Gr. c. xxi. vol. II. p. 234 : 'The ng^e of the epos is followed 
 by that of the epopee — short spontaneous effusions preparing the way, 
 and furnishing materials, for the architectonic genius of the poet... 
 Such, in my judgement, is the right conception of the Homeric epoch — 
 an organising poetical mind, still preserving that freshness of observation 
 aiui vivacity of details which constitutes the charm of the ballad.' 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION- 1 23 
 
 The original Achilleid consisted only of books i, 8, 'Achil- 
 and II to 22 inclasive, ending with the slaying of Hector 
 by Achilles. Books 2 to 7 inclusive, 9, lo, 23 and 24 
 were added 'vvdth the view of making this Achilleid into an 
 ///<2^. In book I Zeus promises to punish the Greeks for 
 the affront to Achilles : why does he do nothing to fulfil his 
 promise till book 8 ? Books 2 — 7 are simply * a splendid 
 picture of the war generally.' Then in book 9 (the embassy; 
 the Greeks humble themselves before Achilles, and he 
 spurns them : this is unseemly, — nay, shocking to the 
 'sentiment of Nemesis'; and in book 16. 52 — 87 Achilles 
 speaks as if no such supplication had been made to him. 
 Book 10, though fitted to its place, is a detached episode, 
 with no bearing on the sequel. Book 23 (the funeral games 
 for Patroclus; and book 24 (the ransoming of Hector's 
 corpse) 'may have formed part of the original Iliad,' but 
 are more probably later additions. 
 
 18. Grote's arguments against the several • non-Achil- Estimate 
 lean' books have very different degrees of force. Book 10, Grote's 
 though composed for its present place, is unquestionably theory, 
 later than any other large j^art of the Iliad. The lang'iage 
 gives many indications of this^; and the characteristic 
 nobleness of the Iliad here sinks to a lower style and 
 tone. As to book 9, Grote's objection to its general fitness 
 is over-strained. Achilles is possessed by a burning resent- 
 ment : it is not enough for him tha.t the Greeks .should 
 confess their fault: they must smart for it. But Grote 
 is right in saying that book 9 cannot have been known 
 to the composer of book 16. 52 — 87. Book 9 certa.inly 
 
 ^ See Monro, //. i — Xil., p. 354. Among ihem are, some perfects 
 in #ca from derivative verbs, as ^f.?A-t\K€v : iu'f^avjQox (365), the only 
 2nd fut. pass, in Homer, exctiti darj70fjucu (in Od. 3. 187, 19. 325) : 
 vCv (v. 105) as = 'now': clear instances of the article used in a 
 post-Homeric v.'ay : several words for armour and dress vrhich occur 
 nowhere else in Homer (as KaTalrv^, aavpurrr/p, iKraZiri, kti-Uti) ; and 
 some words frequent in the Odyssey, but not elsewhere found in tte 
 Hia^cl (as OMTis, (prjfus, ^0^,0^ i.'jAuxuQvi), 
 
124 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 did not belong to the original form of *he poem. It has 
 traits of language and of matter which bring it nearer to 
 parts of books 23, 24, and even 10, while they separate 
 it from the body of the Iliad\ 
 
 It is in regard to book 8 that Grote's theory is most 
 decidedly at fault. He makes it part of his original Achil- 
 leid. But it stands in the most intimate poetical connection 
 with book 9. The reverses of the Greeks in book 8 lead 
 up to the embassy in 9, and the poet intended them 
 to do so. And this fact agrees with the proofs in book 
 8 itself that its origin was later than that of the greater part 
 of the Iliad. A large proportion of its verses has been 
 borrowed or adapted from other parts of the Iliad, or from 
 the Odyssey"^. 
 
 Books 2 — 7 delay the story, and almost certainly did 
 not belong to the first form of the poem ; but everything 
 indicates that these books (excepting the ' Catalogue ' in 
 book 2) must have been among the earliest additions to 
 it ; and they are unquestionably older than book 8, whose 
 poet has imitated them. Grote is right in regarding books 
 23 and 24 as additions to the original poem. But they 
 stand on different levels. Book 24 is in the highest Homeric 
 strain, and, if not contemplated in the first design of the 
 poem, is at least entirely in unison with it. The games 
 in book 23 are an addition by an inferior and probably 
 later hand. 
 
 19. Few things in Homeric criticism are more interest- 
 ing than to consider how Grote was led to form his theory, 
 with book 8 for its pivot. He was looking for the earliest sign 
 of Zeus fulfilling the promise made in book i, and discom- 
 fiting the Greeks. He found this in book 8, and thence 
 inferred that, in the original ' Achilleid,' book 8 immediately 
 
 ^ Examples are — Co<jre with infin. (42); the impers. Set (337) : the 
 mention of Apollo's shrine at Pytho (Delphi, 405) : the mention of 
 Egypt (382): the use of'EXXas in a large sense, as at least = Northern 
 Thessaly (447) — all unique in the Iliad. 
 
 2 On book 8 see Christ's Prolegomena to the Iliad, pp. 69 f. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 1 25 
 
 followed book i. Now, there are two distinct moments in 
 the Iliad at which the tide of war turns against the Greeks. 
 One is book 8. The other is book ii. Grote saw that 
 books 9 and lo were later than the original form of 
 the poem. But he omitted to observe that the poet 
 who abased the Greeks before Achilles in book 9 would 
 have felt the necessity of first discomfiting them in war; 
 that, therefore, book 9 would account for book 8 ; and that 
 the primary form of the poem becomes both simpler and 
 more intelligible if we suppose that, in it, book i was 
 once closely followed by book 11. That such was the 
 case, the results of more recent studies strongly tend to 
 show. 
 
 Grote recognised that the books which he rejected from Source 
 the original Achilleid were, in large part, of high intrinsic of th?^ 
 excellence. 'Amongst them are comprehended some ofnon- 
 the noblest efforts of the Grecian epic' He also held that books ^^^ 
 they were of practically the same date as the Achilleid 
 itself: — 'they belong to the same generation.' The 
 Odyssey, in his belief, was the work of one author, who was 
 distinct from the author of the Achilleid, but coeval with 
 him, — their age being ' a very early one, anterior to the first 
 Olympiad' (776 B.c.)^ 
 
 20. Accepting Grote's definition of the Achilleid, Ged- Geddes. 
 des^ has maintained that the non-Achillean books of the 
 Iliad were composed by a later poet, the author of the 
 Odyssey, He 'engrafted on a more ancient poem, the 
 Achilleid, splendid and vigorous sapHngs of his own, trans- 
 forming and enlarging it into an Iliad, but an Iliad in 
 which the engrafting is not absolutely complete, where the 
 'sutures' are still visible.' The kinship between the Odyssey 
 and the ' non- Achillean ' books of the Iliad {i.e. 2 — 7, 
 9, 10, 23, 24) is recognised especially (i) in the mode 
 
 ^ Grote Hist. Gr. vol. ii. pp. 236, 262, 273. 
 
 2 The Problem of the Homeric Poems. By William D. Geddes, LL.D.» 
 Professor of Greek in [now Principal of] the University of Aberdeen. 
 (Macmillan, 1878.) 
 
126 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 of presenting Odysseus, Hector, Helen, and some other 
 persons; (2) in the aspects of the gods and their worship, 
 (3) in ethical purpose; (4) in local marks of origin, — the 
 traces of an Ionian origin being common to the Odyssey 
 with the non-Achillean books of the Iliad^ and with those 
 alone. 
 
 It can scarcely be questioned that the Odyssey^ while 
 bearing the general impress of the same early age as 
 the Iliad, belongs to a somewhat later part of that age. 
 We have seen some tokens of this in Chapter II. Nor can 
 it be doubted that many real afiEinities exist between 
 the Odyssey and the later books of the Iliad. But it 
 is less easy to decide how far these traits are due to 
 a single mind, to the influence of a school, or to the 
 traditional form of epic material. On any view, the work 
 of Geddes will always rank as a very able and original con- 
 tribution to the question^ 
 W.Christ. 21. A view of the Iliad \n\\\q}s\ is in some measure con- 
 servative, and which aims at reconciling divergent theories, 
 has been fully expounded by Christ, in the Prolegomena to 
 his edition of the text (1884). The following is an outline 
 of it. 
 
 A great poet, Homer, composed a number of epic lays, 
 intended to be recited separately, and therefore to some 
 extent independent, but also connected by an organic plan 
 which was definitely before his mind. The 'old,' or original, 
 Iliad consisted of these lays, and formed a whole complete 
 in itself. It contained the quarrel of Agamemnon and 
 Achilles (bk. i. i — 305); the resolve of Zeus to avenge 
 Achilles (bk. i. 306 — end); the exploits of Agamemnon, his 
 wounding, and the rout of the Greeks (bk. ii. i — 595); the 
 sally of Patroclus to help the Greeks, and his slaying by 
 Hector (bks. 16 and 17); the return of Achilles to the war, 
 
 ^ Of especial interest are the chapters on the * Local Mint-marks ' 
 (XVIII. — XXI.), showing how the traits which indicate personal know- 
 ledge of European and Asiatic Hellas respectively are distributed in the 
 poems. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 1 27 
 
 his routing of the Trojans, and his slaying of Hector (bks. 
 18 — 22, excepting some large interpolations). 
 
 This ' old ' Iliad was, however, amplified in many ways ; 
 partly by its author, Homer ; partly by poets to whom he 
 had entrusted 'the keeping, reciting, and publishing' of 
 his poem. Christ calls these poets ' Homeridae,' and 
 conceives Homer as *the founder of their clan' ('conditor 
 gentis'). 
 
 22. To distinguish between the additions made to the 
 'old' Iliad by Homer himself, and those made by the 
 '• Homeridae,' is, he thinks, as difficult as to distinguish 
 'between the genuine and the spurious elements in Mozart's 
 Requiem.' However, he can discern at least four main 
 groups of additions. 
 
 (i) The earliest additions consisted, roughly, of bks. 2, 
 3, 4, 5, minus the 'Catalogue' in bk. 2. The object was to 
 gratify the 'Aeolian and Ionian fellow-citizens of Homer' by 
 praises of ancestral chiefs. 
 
 (2) Then those parts of bks. 5 and 6 which relate to 
 Sarpedon and Glaucus were added from a similar motive. 
 Christ dwells on the fact that in the Iliad we have two sets 
 of Lycians ; the northern, neighbours to Troy, and led by 
 Pandarus ; and the southern, under Sarpedon and Glaucus. 
 The latter, with their chiefs, were brought in to please 
 lonians claiming descent from Glaucus. 
 
 The building of the wall at the Greek camp was now in- 
 vented, in order to give occasion for the splendid scenes of 
 assault and repulse. Books 12, 13, 14 (part), and 15 were 
 added. 
 
 (3) Another poet now sought to perfect the Iliad by 
 connecting its parts more closely; by adding the embassy to 
 Achilles ; and by closing the poem with the ransoming of 
 Hector's corpse. He added books 7, 8, 9, the latter part of 
 II (from 596), 19 (to 356), 23 (to 256), and 24. Such a 
 book as 24 had, indeed, been part of the original Homer's 
 design. 
 
 The Iliad was now complete in its enlarged form. All 
 
128 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 this had been done 'some time before' circ. 800 B.C.: Christ 
 is dubious as to the number of poets, but thinks that, in- 
 cluding the original Homer, there were not more than four. 
 (4) The ' Homerid rhapsodes ' further added some 
 passages, which were composed while the epic art still 
 flourished. Such are the part assigned to Phoenix in bk. 9 ; 
 bk. ID (the Doloneia) ; the making of the armour in bk. 18; 
 the fight of Achilles and Aeneas in bk. 20 (75 — 352). Lastly, 
 some tasteless rhapsodes made minor additions, and, among 
 other things, thrust the 'Catalogue' into bk. 2. The ad- 
 ditions of this fourth group were made in the 8 th and 
 7th centuries B.C. 
 
 23. Dr Christ divides the Iliad into 40 lays, which follow 
 each other in the order of our text, and were meant to be re- 
 cited in that order, though composed (as we have seen) at 
 various times. The Iliad had been committed to writing, he 
 thinks, before the time of Peisistratus, but only in these 
 separate lays, with separate titles. Peisistratus first caused the 
 series to be committed to writing as a single ordered whole. 
 It will be seen that Christ somewhat resembles Plermann 
 (whose work on ' interpolation ' he admires) in his way of 
 conceiving the relation between Homer and post-Homeric 
 additions. His reasoning is strict, yet not rigid. Much 
 of it deals with points on which it is hopeless to expect 
 general agreement'. But he has greatly strengthened 
 the general conclusion that the Iliad is an enlargement of an 
 epic by a great poet, who worked on a great but compara- 
 tively simple plan, leaving room for others to complete or to 
 complicate it^ 
 Texture 24. The closer unity of plan in the Odyssey^ as compared 
 
 Od^ss ^^^^ ^^^ Iliad^ has been recognised by every modern critic 
 from Wolf onwards. In some degree, this greater unity is a 
 
 1 As, indeed, he feels ; Proleg. p. 95 : ' Sed haec sunt altioris 
 indaginis, quae vereor ut umquam omnibus plane persuader! possint.' 
 
 2 A feature of peculiar value in Christ's edition is the analysis of his 
 40 lays in what he regards as the chronological order of their com- 
 position, — showing in detail how each was related to the rest, whether 
 as model or as imitation {Proleg. pp. 57 — 78). 
 
CH. IV.] TPIE HOMERIC QUESTION. 1 29 
 
 necessary result of the generic difference between the two 
 poems. The person of Odysseus knits together all the 
 parts of the Odyssey more strictly than the wrath of 
 Achilles could knit together all the parts of an Iliad. 
 But, over and above this, it is clear that in the dove-tailing 
 of the Odyssey we see the work of one mind. The 
 question is whether we can discern different bodies of 
 original material which the single constructor used. 
 
 With regard to the composition of the Odyssey, the most Kirch- 
 elaborate and ingenious view which has yet been put forward ° ' 
 is that of Kirchhoff. It is as follows. There was a very 
 old poem on the ' Return of Odysseus ' (Noo-tos 'OSwcro-ews). 
 It contained the adventures of the hero on his homeward 
 voyage down to his landing in Ithaca, and answered roughly 
 to our books 5, 6, 7 (greater part), 9, 11 (greater part), and 
 13 ( to V. 184). The 'Return' was not a mere folk-song. 
 It was an epic poem, composed, probably, long after the 
 epic art had been matured. 
 
 Later, but still before 800 B.C., another poet composed a 
 sequel to the ' Return,' telling the adventures of Odysseus 
 <2/?^his arrival in Ithaca. This sequel consisted of bks. 13 
 (from V. 185) to 23 (v. 296) inclusive, excepting bk. 15* 
 (Book 23. V. 296 is the point at which Aristarchus thought, 
 that the genuine Odyssey ended.) The author of the sequel 
 used a number of popular epic lays, but lacked the skill 
 to blend them into a perfect unity. Hence many contra- 
 dictions and inequalities remain. But he carried the fusion 
 at least so far that we can no longer clearly separate the 
 original lays. 
 
 The sequel never existed apart from the old ' Return.' 
 The 'Return' and the sequel together formed a single poem. 
 Kirchhoff calls this poem ' the older redaction ' of the Odys- 
 sey, — older than arc. 800 B.C. 
 
 About 660 B.C. a third poet took up the work. The 
 framework of the Odyssey was already complete. But this 
 new poet wished to incorporate with it some other lays of 
 the same group. He wished also to give it a better ending. 
 
130 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 He added the adventures of Telemachus (bks. i — 4)*; bks. 
 8, 10, 12^ 15, 23 (from V. 297), and 24. In doing this, he 
 freely altered or mutilated the text of the * older redaction.' 
 Thus arose the ' later redaction,' which is our Odyssey^ save 
 for some small interpolations by later hands. 
 
 25. Kirchhoff' s arguments are given partly in a continuous 
 commentary on the text, partly in short essays. A brief 
 summary would be unjust. The strength of his case depends 
 essentially on the cumulative force of a great number of 
 subtle observations^ Even those who cannot accept his 
 
 ^ Kirchhoff regards the first 87 verses of bk. i as having formed 
 the exordium of the original No(ttos. The Telemachy begins at 
 bk. I. 88. A curious discrepancy of time between the Telemachy 
 and the rest of the poem had long ago been noticed. Telemachus 
 leaves Ithaca on the evening of the 2nd day after the Odyssey 
 opens, intending to be absent not more than 12 days (2. 374 ff. : 
 cp. 4. 632). He reaches Sparta on the evening of the 5th day of the 
 poem, and is left there by the poet on the morning of the 6th, purposing 
 to return at once, as his companions at Pylos are awaiting him (4. 
 595 ff.). Then book 5 turns to Odysseus : who at last reaches Ithaca on 
 the 36th day of the poem (13. 119). But Telemachus returns to Ithaca 
 one day later than his father : i.e. on the 37th of the poem, and the 
 36th of his own absence. (Mure, Hist. Gk. Lit. i. 440 ff.) Geddes 
 (p. 32) suggests an interesting possibility — viz., that the poet may 
 originally have intended to send Telemachus on from Sparta to the 
 court of Idomeneus in Crete, — a visit which would account for the 
 superfluous days. In Od. i, after v. 93, in which Athene says that she 
 will send Telemachus to Pylos and Sparta, some ancient copies read, — 
 KeWev 5' es KprjTijv re {Keldeu 5^ Kprjrrjpde}) Trap 'Idofievrja avaKra' \ os 
 yap SevTaros ■^X^ei' ' Axatwj' xaXfOX'''''^i'wv. 
 
 2 Books lo and 12 — now part of the narrative given by Odysseus to 
 Alcinous — were adapted (Kirchhoff thinks) from lays in which the poet 
 told the story in the third person. Book 9 and the old part of book 1 1 
 had always been in the first person ; and the third poet had to suit the 
 new books to their place. 
 
 2 In estimating Kirchhoff 's view, undue prominence has sometimes 
 been given to one of his particular arguments, which is easily answered 
 — that in the Noo-tos Odysseus is in his prime, and in the 'sequel' is an 
 old man. The transformation is due to Athene's magic (13. 429); 
 and her wand cannot well be explained as a device for harmonising the 
 two poems. — It has been noticed that in Od. 13. 399 the hero's hair is 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. I31 
 
 theory in detail must (I think; allow that he has proved 
 two general propositions, or at least has shown them 
 to be in the highest degree probable, (i) The Odyssey 
 contains distinct strata of poetical material, from different 
 sources and periods. (2) The poem owes its present unity 
 of form to one man ; but, under this unity of form, there 
 are perceptible traces of a process by which different com- 
 positions were adapted to each other. 
 
 Against Kirchhoff's theory, Niese* has re-asserted the 
 view which had previously been general, — that the Odyssey, 
 nearly in its present form, had been completed before 
 776 B.C. But the influence of Kirchhoff's work, especially 
 in Germany, has been deeply felt, and is not likely to 
 dimini^'^t is in the Iliad, however, that the main interest 
 of the Homeric question must always be centred. The 
 Odyssey problem is not only different, but less importunate. 
 In the Odyssey we have a poem which owes at least its - — 
 existing shape to a single hand, and which, notwithstanding 
 the patent or latent discrepancies, can be read without 
 the question of a complex origin being forced upon the 
 mind. Further analysis is less interesting than in the case 
 of the Iliad, while it is also necessarily more difficult. 
 
 26. The history of early epics in other languages is Analogy 
 a source from which illustration of the Homeric question ^^^-^ ^^ 
 has been sought. But the history of such epics is often epics, 
 itself more or less obscure. And, from the nature of the case, 
 the only illustration which can be expected is of the 
 most general kind. Before any definite solution of the 
 Homeric problem could derive scientific support from 
 such analogies, it would be necessary to show that the 
 particular conditions under which the Homeric poems 
 
 aicburn {^avdos), in 16. 176 it is dark {Kvaveo^), — as also in 6. 231, 
 unless the vaKlvdivov avdos is an image merely for curliness, not 
 for colour. Note that, on Kirchhoff's view, this would be a case of 
 the author of the 'sequel' contradicting himself ; for both 13. 399 and 
 16. 176 are his. 
 
 ^ Etitwickelung der homerischen Poesie (Berlin, 1882), pp. 222 ff. 
 
132 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 appear in early Greece had been reproduced with sufficient 
 closeness elsewhere. Still, it is necessary for the student of 
 Homer to know the general scope of such comparisons, 
 if only in order to control the arguments drawn from them. 
 Among the early epics which offer some general resemblance 
 to the Homeric poems, the following are the principal. 
 
 27. (i) The Mahdbhdrata and the Rdmdya7ia. Of 
 these two great Sanscrit epics, the latter has been com- 
 pared to the Odyssey^ because {a) the interest is concen- 
 trated upon a single hero, Rama; and [b) the structure 
 has greater unity ^ The Mahdbhdrata, on the other hand, 
 so far resembles the Iliad that {a) the heroic interest 
 is more divided, and (b) there are stronger traces of 
 its having been put together, at least to some extent, 
 from parts originally distinct, and of different dates^ 
 As the Odyssey is now generally believed to be, as a whole, 
 later than the Iliad, so, according to one view, the Rdmd- 
 yana is later than the greater part of the Mahdbhdrala. 
 
 28. (2) Theearly French romances of chivalry, or 'Chan- 
 sons de Geste.' These, which are traced back to the eleventh 
 century, represent 'the earliest form which finished litera- 
 ture took in France^,' just as the Homeric poems stand at 
 the beginning of Greek literature. Like Homer, they were 
 a native growth. Like Homer, they were recited. The 
 composer, or 'trouvere,' was usually a distinct person from 
 the reciter, or 'jongleur,' who corresponded to the Greek 
 rhapsode. As a type of the 'Chansons de Geste' may be 
 taken the Chanso7i de Roland, of the eleventh century, 
 which is a sort of French Achilleid. It opens when 
 Charlemagne has been warring for seven years against the 
 Saracens in Spain , and after its hero, the French Roland, 
 
 ^ As Grote says that the Odyssey was * moulded at one projection,' 
 so Lassen {Indisch. Alth. i. 584) says that the Ramayana is ' from 
 a single mould ' {aus einem Gusse). 
 
 2 ' Es kann keine Frage seyn, dass wir im Mahabharata Stiicke aus 
 sehr verschiedenen Zeiten, wie sehr verschieden an Inhalt und Farbe 
 vor uns haben' (Lassen I.e.). 
 
 2 Saintsbury, Short History of French Literature^ ch. ii. p. 10. 
 
 k 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. I33 
 
 has been slain in the Pyrenees, the poem relates the doom 
 of a false knight who had betrayed him to death. The 
 * Chansons de Geste,' it has been supposed, had been pre- 
 ceded by short historical ballads called 'cantilenae,' which 
 were worked up in the 'Chansons.' But the 'cantilenae* 
 are lost; and the theory lacks good evidence'. Were it 
 otherwise, then the 'cantilenae' would have been analo- 
 gous to the short heroic lays (K\ea dvSpoiv) which appear 
 to have preceded the Homeric epics. 
 
 29. (3) The poetic £dda of Iceland^ This is a 
 collection of poems, most of which date probably from 
 the 8th or 9th century, some of them being merely 
 fragments of longer heroic lays which are not extant. 
 They deal with the myths and religious legends of 
 early Scandinavian civilisation. But they do not form 
 a single epic. Gathered, probably, from oral tradition, 
 long after they were composed, they were thrown together, 
 in a body which has no poetical unity, about iioo a.d. 
 Thus, if any inference could properly be drawn from the 
 Edda, it would be that short separate poems on cognate 
 subjects can long exist as a collection, ivithout coalescing 
 into such an artistic whole as the Iliad or the Odyssey. 
 
 30. (4) The Nibehmgenlied (or Der Nibelunge Nof). 
 As the Homeric poems give an artistic form to older legends, 
 so the German romantic epic is only the final shape of a 
 
 1 The Homeric theories of Wolf and his followers suggested similar 
 theories in regard to the Chansons de Geste, as M. Paul remarks 
 {Recherches stir P J^popee fran^aise^ p. 65). 
 
 2 The name Edda is borne by two entirely distinct bodies of ancient 
 Icelandic writings. One is the poetic Edda noticed above. The other, 
 to which the name is more anciently and properly given, is the prose 
 Edda, a miscellaneous collection of writings, ascribed to Snorri 
 Sturluson, the most eminent of early Scandinavian writers, and probably 
 completed about 1222. See Mr K W. Gosse in the EncycL Brit. 
 {9th ed.) vol. VII. p. 64Q. 
 
 2 The Nibelungen are a race of mysterious and supernatural beings. 
 Siegfried, the hero of the poem, has carried off a great treasure of gold 
 and gems from two princes of the Nibelungen-land, to whom it had 
 been bequeathed by their father, the king Nibelung. The subject 
 
134 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 Teutonic saga which had appeared in many earher forms. 
 So far, Lachmann's view (1816) was plausible, that it had 
 been put together about 12 10 a.d. from twenty old ballads. 
 But the view now generally received is that of Prof. K. Bartsch. 
 The Nibelungenlied ^2.^ written, by one man, about 11 40, — 
 the lines ending in assonances, not in rhymes. About 11 70 
 another poet partially introduced rhyme instead of assonance: 
 and between 1190 and 1200 this process was completed, in 
 two distinct recensions, by two different hands. One of 
 these has preserved the original form more closely than 
 the other \ Thus, if we could argue at all from the case of 
 the Nibelungenlied, the argument would tell against the 
 Wolfians, and in favour of such a view as that of Nitzsch, 
 described above. 
 
 31. (5) The Kaleivala of Finland. This is a kind 
 of epic poem, called from 'Kaleva,' a happy land, three 
 heroes of which struggle against foes from the land of 
 cold and the land of death. It was the Kalewala that 
 suggested Longfellow's Hiawatha. It embodies the old 
 folk-lore of the Finns, and existed only in scattered songs, 
 preserved by memory alone, until they were collected and 
 written down early in this century. Dr E. Lonnrot, the 
 chief collector, published 12,000 verses in 1835, and in 
 1849 a new edition of 22,793^. Here, then, is a case 
 seemingly in favour of Lachmann — Dr Lonnrot answering 
 to Peisistratus or his commission. But, on the other hand, 
 the texture of the Kalewala is said to be of a very loose 
 kind: it has not unity of plot in at all the same sense as the 
 ///^^ and the Odyssey have it^ The Kalewala could not, 
 
 of the epic is the ' doom ' or curse which this enchanted hoard brings 
 on its possessor, as exemplified in the ill-starred loves of Siegfried and 
 the heroine Kriemhild, and in the sequel thereof. 
 
 1 See Mr. James Sime in Encycl. Brit. (9th ed.) vol. xvii. p. 476. 
 
 * See Mr. J. S. Keltic, in Encycl. Brit. (9th ed.) vol. ix. p. 219. 
 
 ^ ' It has none of the unity of structure which we find in Homer, 
 but ranges over the whole life of the hero, from his birth to his 
 disappearance in extreme old age ' : Mr. Monro in Jotirtial of Philo- 
 logy, vol. XI. p. 59. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 135 
 
 of course, be cited as an instance of an epic arising from a 
 fortuitous or spontaneous aggregation of songs: the editor 
 would naturally seek to give them such unity as he could. 
 And it further fails to prove that mere combining and 
 editing can form an artistic whole out of originally distinct 
 songs, even though concerned with closely-related themes. 
 
 32. (6) The Persian epic, the Shahnamah^ or 'Book of 
 Kings,' is a history of Persia in 60,000 verses, based on old 
 popular legends \ It is wholly the work of Firdousi (a name 
 assumed by Abu '1 Casim Mansur), who completed it in 
 1009 A.D. It claims notice here as supplying perhaps the 
 fairest illustration for the ancient view of the Homeric epics 
 as wholly the work of one man, in this respect — that the 
 Shahnamah became the popular national epic of Persia 
 almost as the Homeric poems became the national epics of 
 Greece. 
 
 33. (7) The early war-poetry of England. In such 
 pieces as the ^Battle Song of Bru7ia?ibiirh' (937 a.d.) and 
 the ''Song of the Fight at Maldon^ (991 a.d.) there are 
 several traits which might remind us of Horner^ The 
 Maldon song is about as long as one book of the Iliad. If 
 twenty-four such songs had grown into one English epic, 
 taking unity from a central theme, that would have been an 
 English Iliad. According to the primary relation of the 
 songs to each other, it would have offered an analogy 
 favourable to the view of Wolf, of Hermann, or of Lach- 
 mann. But in our country, as in others, we fail to find any 
 true parallel to the case of the Homeric poems. These 
 poems must be studied in themselves, without looking for 
 aid, in this sense, to the comparative method. 
 
 ^ See the article on Firdousi, by the late Prof. E. H. Palmer, 
 in the Encycl. Brit. (9th ed.) vol. ix. p. 225. 
 
 2 Referring to the Song of Maldon, Mr. Stopford Brooke says : — 
 *In the speeches of heralds and warriors before the fight, in the speeches 
 and single combats of the chiefs, in the loud laugh and mock which 
 follow a good death-stroke, in the rapid rush of the verse when 
 the battle is joined, the poem, though broken, — as Homer's verse 
 is not, — is Homeric' {Primer of English Literature, p. 15.) 
 
136 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 There are only two sources from which we can hope 
 for any real light on their origin. One is their subject- 
 matter, of which an outline has been given in Chapter II. 
 The other is their language. 
 Homeric 34- The general character of Homeric language — that 
 language, ^vhich is common to Iliad and Odyssey — attests the high anti- 
 quity of the poems. The dialect of Homer is Io nic. In the 
 fifth century B.C. there is the Ionic of Herodotus, while a 
 kindred, though distinct, dialect has taken a mature form in 
 the Attic literature. A comparison of Homer's Ionic with 
 the fifth-century Ionic and Attic shows differences of two 
 classes. One class is concerned with the forms of words: 
 the other, with their arrangement in sentences. And these 
 differences are not merely matters of detail or of caprice. 
 They are such as to show that Homer's Ionic belongs to an 
 earlier stage in the development of the language \ In order 
 to give time for such changes, it is necessary to allow an 
 interval of at least two or three centuries. That is, the 
 stamp of Homeric language, as a whole, indicates that we 
 should place the Homeric poems not later than about 
 800 — 700 B.C. 
 Tradi- 35. *<But the Ionic of Homer cannot have been the 
 
 epk^ele- ^P^^^^ dialect of one time. It comprises too great a number 
 ment. of alternative forms for even the commonest words ^ The 
 Homeric poet used the spoken Ionic of his own day; but, 
 besides this, he used also an element of earlier Ionic as it 
 came to him in the traditional diction of poetry. At a very 
 early date — how early, we do not know — Ionic became the 
 accepted dialect of epic poetry for all Greeks, as Tuscan 
 became the literary dialect for all Italians. Some forms 
 occur in Homer which are Aeolic. It is possible that these 
 forms may have been adopted into Ionic, as the national 
 
 ^ See Note at the end of the book. 
 
 ^ e.g. ehaL, ^fiev, ^fxixev, ^fxevai, ^fi/ievai : vrjval, vr^eaai, vavcpi : irdXeis, 
 TToXics, TToXijes: TrdXiv, irovKiv, iroWov: woK^es, TroXets, ttoWoL: TLrjXrjiddeu), 
 HrjXrj'Cddao, HrjXeideo}, HrjXeidaoi 'AxcXtjl, 'AxtXXiJL, 'AxtXXe?: irdat, 
 irdvTeaa-L'. Kvai, Kijveaai: uZ^es, vies: etc. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. I37 
 
 dialect for epic poetry, from old Aeolian lays. But it is also 
 possible that they originally belonged to the old Ionic itself, 
 as well as to the old Aeolic. The only thing certain about 
 such forms is that they are very old^ They were part 
 of an epic style which the Ionic poets inherited. 
 
 T,6. And the presence of this traditional element might False ar- 
 easily have a further result. A poet using words or phrases ^^^^s"™^- 
 which lived only in epic convention would be apt to coin 
 similar forms by analogy. In doing this, he would not be 
 controlled by the instinct oi living speech; and in those days 
 there was no scientific philology to keep him right. Analogy, 
 then, might prove a misleading guide. The forms which he 
 devised, — believing them to be warranted by similar old 
 forms,— might happen to be incorrect. This would be the 
 origin of 'false archaisms.' There are undoubtedly some 
 'false archaisms' in Homer ^, though probably not so many 
 as some critics have assumed ^ But it is well to mark the 
 
 ^ Such Homeric forms as ^7c6v, wia-vpes, dfifies, vfifies or vfMfies, are 
 Aeolic; reiv, tvutj, etc., Doric. See,, on this subject, Mr Monro's 
 papers, 'Traces of different Dialects in the language of Homer* 
 {Joiirn. of Philology, IX. p. 252), and ' Further Notes on Homeric 
 Subjects' {ib. vol. xi. p. 56). 
 
 2 Thus uTTo KpaTea(f)L {11. 10. 156) = * under his head,' Kp6.rt(T(pi being 
 formed on the analogy of (m7^ecr0i (from the stem (TTTjdes of aTrjdos), 
 and meant for the dat. sing. {Kpari) : but this is incorrect, since the stem 
 is not Kpares, but Kpar. So {id. 361) iireiyerov, if meant for the 3rd 
 pers. dual subjunctive (as irpodiriffi in 362 suggests) is wrong, since 
 Homer has 77 in the subjunct. where the indie has e. Again (ib. 346) 
 irapa(p6ait]aL is meant for the optat. irapacpOairj, but is wrongly formed 
 on the analogy of subjunctives in -rjcri. These false archaisms in //. 10. 
 confirm the relative lateness of the book, but only with the reserve 
 indicated above. In //. 15. 415, ieiaaro, * he went,' may, as Curtius 
 thought {Frinc. ii. 207), be a false archaism, suggested by the analogy 
 ofifelffaTo, 'seemed' {Od. 2. 320J : but this is doubtful. Wackernagel's 
 view is that it is merely an error for eTjcraro, which he would identify 
 with Sanscr. aydsat (Monro Gr. § 401 n.). 
 
 3 False archaisms have a large place in Prof. Paley's theory, — that 
 'our Iliad and Odyssey were put together only in the latter part of the 
 5th century B.C., from the large mass of ballad literature which Pindar 
 and the Tragics know of in their entirety' (Pref. to Iliad, vol. II. p. xxi). 
 
138 HOMER. fCH. IV. 
 
 limit of the inference which can be drawn from such in- 
 stances. It has sometimes been argued that a 'false 
 archaism' proves the passage in which it occurs to be 
 altogether later than the age of Ionian epos, — as late (say) 
 as 450 — 400 B. c. This inference is unsound. The pos- 
 sibihty of false archaisms began as soon as there were 
 genuine archaisms. False archaisms might have been made 
 in 800 or 900 B.C., as easily as in 450 B.C., by an Ionian 
 poet who found in the traditional epic diction certain 
 forms or phrases which no longer existed in the living 
 idiom of his day. 
 Dif- 37- So far, we have been considering the general stamp 
 
 ferences q{ Homeric language, as seen in both the great epics. But 
 I/iad the language of the Odyssey has certain traits of its own, 
 
 ^? which indicate that, as a whole, it is later than that of the 
 Odyssey. 
 
 Iliad. It is not safe to lay much stress on mere differences 
 
 of vocabulary in the two poems. The Iliad deals chiefly 
 with war-scenes, the Odyssey with adventurous travel or 
 domestic life. We should naturally expect a corresponding 
 difference in the classes of words used. Further, many 
 differences might be due to local or personal causes rather 
 than to separation in time. Perhaps the only argument 
 from vocabulary that has any force is the greater frequency 
 in the Odyssey of words which interpret the religious or 
 moral sense \-/ But the evidence of syntax is more sig- 
 nificant. Vrhe Odyssey has a number of constructions 
 and usages which distinguish it from the Iliad. They 
 
 ^ As to these, see p. 55, n. i. It is not strange that in the Odyssey 
 alone should be found larit], \iaxn (a place where men meet to talk, in 
 Mod. Greek = ' club'), x^P^i-^ (water for washing the hands), dtj/xtoepySs 
 (one who plies a peaceful calling). Nor is it strange that 0c)/3os (' flight') 
 and p7)yvvfjiL ('to break'), — so frequent in the ///^^battle-scenes, should 
 occur only once each in the Odyssey. Words afterwards so common 
 as eaOris, xPW^to. ('property') occur only in the Odyssey^ and this is 
 perhaps more significant. eXTrh and So|a occur only in the Odyssey, 
 except that bo^rjs occurs once in //. 10. 324, a book which has other 
 non-Iliadic words in common with the Odyssey, as hoais, (prifiLS, dairT], 
 anoriia, adrjKOTes, elada, roladeaat. 
 
CH. IV.J THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 139- 
 
 fall chiefly under the following heads*, (i) U ses of prep osi- 
 
 tions. (2) Uses of the art icle,, of prnnmmc;^ (-(^nj^mrtmnc^ 
 
 particles, a nd adverb s. (3) De pendent clause s. In regard 
 to metre, again some distinctive points may be noticed ^ 
 
 38. These characteristics of the Odyssey are either 
 wholly absent from the Iliad, or occur only in a limited area 
 
 of it, which is almost always confined to books 9, 10, 23, '"''' 
 24; books which, as we saw, have been held, on other 
 grounds, to be later than most of the others. The late- 
 ness which these particular traits argue is, however, only 
 relative. There is nothing in them which is not con- 
 sistent with the earliest date which could, on other grounds^ 
 be claimed for the Odyssey as a whole. They do not affect 
 the generally ancient stamp which its language shares with 
 that of the Iliad. Their effect is only to draw certain 
 limited parts of the Iliad nearer to the Odyssey. They 
 Strengthen the probability that some interval of time must 
 be supposed between the bulk of the Iliad and those parts 
 of it which here exhibit a marked affinity with the Odyssey. 
 
 39. Homeric metre exhibits traces of certain sounds or Lost 
 letters which were unknown to the Ionic of the historical rounds, 
 age. In one very common word (ws) we see the metrical 
 influence of a lost initial J^/^ A few instances, though these 
 
 1 See Note at the end of the book. 
 
 ^ (i) A pause in the verse sometimes excuses the non-elision of a 
 vowel (hiatus), and one case of this is when the beginning of the 5th 
 foot coincides with the beginning of a word : as Od. 2. 57 elXairLvd^ovcnv 
 irivovai T€ I aWoTra oXvov. This division of the verse is called the 
 ' bucolic diaeresis,' because especially characteristic of the hexameter in 
 pastoral poetry. Hiatus in this bucolic diaeresis is about twice as 
 frequent in the Od. as in the //. So also is hiatus after the vowel e. 
 In both these metrical points, however, books 23 and 24 of the Iliad 
 show an affinity v/ith the Odyssey. Monro 6";-. § 382. 
 
 3 By the lengthening of a short syllable before it, as //. 11. 58 
 klvdav ff, OS Tpojal debs wj rlero 8i]fi(p (as though it were jws). This 
 occurs in some 36 places, but the exceptions are scarcely less numerous : 
 as //. 3. 196, airbs de ktLXos ws (where Bentley proposed avrdp \f/i\6s 
 euv). Monro Ifom. Gr.% ig-j. Q^.Y^Ao., Greek and Latin Etyrnologyy 
 pp. 76, 229. 
 
14© HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 are more doubtful, suggest the similar influence of a lost 
 'The di- initial o-\ But the most important case is that of the letter 
 gamma, ^^^z, answering in sound to our V or W. The character for 
 this was like F, or one Greek V placed on top of another : 
 hence its name, 'double gamma', 'digamma^' This was 
 one of the ordinary letters of the earliest Greek alphabet. 
 It occurs in Doric inscriptions, and in the Aeolic inscrip- 
 tions of Greece Proper (Boeotia, Elis, etc.), though not in 
 those of the Asiatic Aeolis. For the existence of the letter 
 in the Ionic alphabet, the evidence is very slender ; in any 
 case, it ceased to be used in Ionic as early, at least, as 
 500 B.c.^ Nor is there any evidence that the letter F was 
 ever written in the ancient texts of Homer. But in 
 
 ^ As i7ri-a\fJL€uos {salio), d/j.(pi-a\os {sal), aix(pi-€irov {seguor), Ka7ata- 
 X^Tat (for -cLax^To.!.), avpex^^ {^^ if for <yv<T<TeX'^^, Od. 5. 257), and 
 occasional hiatus before uX??, viruos, ios {silva, somnus, sints). 
 
 2 Bentley was the first modern scholar who recognised the presence 
 of the digamma in Homeric metre. The earliest hint of his discovery 
 occurs in a note written by him, in 1713, on a blank leaf in his copy of 
 the ' Discourse of Free-Thinking ' ' by Anthony Collins' (in the Library 
 of Trin. Coll., Cambridge) : — ' Homer's diyafifia Aeolicum to be added. 
 oluos, FoTvos, vinu : a Demonstration of this, because f oTvos has always 
 preceding it a vowel : so oluoTrord^cov.'' The digamma was first printed 
 in a quotation from Homer in Bentley's edition of Paradise Los ^ (1732), 
 a capital F being used : whence Pope's lines in the Dimciad : 'While 
 tow'ring o'er your alphabet, like Saul, \ Stands our digamma, and 
 o'ertops them all.' The substance of Bentley's ms. notes on the 
 digamma was published in Dr. J. W. Donaldson's New Cratylus. 
 €p. 'Bentley,' in ' English Men of Letters,' pp. 149 — 154. 
 
 ^ In the Dorian inscriptions of the 6th and 5th centuries B.C. f is 
 usually retained as an initial letter, even where it is neglected in the 
 body of a word. The Tabulae Heracleenses of the Dorian Heraclea in 
 Magna Graecia (4th cent. B.C.) show the 7 retained in some words, and 
 omitted in others. For f in the Ionic alphabet the chief evidence is (i) 
 one word in a Naxian inscription of circ. 510 B.C. : (2) three names 
 on vases found in Magna Graecia, and said to have come from Chalcis 
 in Euboea : (3) the name of the town Velia^ founded by lonians of 
 Phocaea. The earliest Ionic inscriptions of Euboea itself (6th cent. B. c.) 
 show no trace of f . Tudeer, De digamino pp. 5 fF., thinks that the 
 loss off in Ionic happened between 800 — 500 B.C. (Monro, Ho7n. Gr. 
 §§404f.) 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. I4I 
 
 Homeric verse the presence of the sound is often indicated. 
 This occurs in two ways, (i) It warrants '■hiatus:^ i.e. 
 prevents the elision of a vowel before another vowel: as 
 77. 9. 128 dixvfxova epya lSvLa<s. Here epya and tSutas are 
 treated, for metrical purposes, as if they were written werga 
 widuias. (2) It makes ^position:' i.e. it lengthens a pre- 
 ceding syllable which would otherwise have been short : as 
 //. 4. 182 ws TTore Tt9 ep€6i, where Tt5 is lengthened as if 
 followed by wereei. 
 
 40. Now, if these effects were constant, there would be incon- 
 
 less difficulty. We should then have to suppose that a fixed ^^^'^^ "^*^ 
 
 T • 1, T 1 , , of it m 
 
 epic tradition compelled the poet to assume the sound w Homer. 
 
 before certain words, whether that sound or letter was 
 
 generally used in his day, or not. But we find that the 
 
 Homeric use fluctuates, even in regard to the same words.*~ 
 
 The digamma does not always prevent elision, or lengthen 
 
 a short syllable. It does so in upwards of 3300 places. 
 
 It fails to do so in upwards of 600 places \ How are we 
 
 to explain the failures ? No conclusive answer has yet been 
 
 given to this question^ 
 
 ^ This is the reckoning of Prof. W. Hartel [Homerische Stiidien lil-K 
 whose results are given by Mr Monro, .Ho?n. Gr. § 398. Prof. Hartel's 
 precise figures are 3354 against 617. (i) Of the 3354 cases in which f 
 is operative, it prevents the elision of a short vowel in 2324 ; in 507 it 
 follows a long vowel or diphthong in arsis; in 164 it prevents the 
 shortening of a diphthong in thesis; and in 359 it lengthens a short 
 syllable ending in a consonant. (2) Of the 617 cases in which f is 
 inoperative, it fails to prevent elision in 324 : it permits a preceding 
 long vowel or diphthong to be shortened in 78 ; and it fails to lengthen 
 a short syllable ending in a consonant in 215. 
 
 ^ The principal theories which have been broached are briefly these, 
 (i) Bentley's: — All places where f is ignored are corrupt. This theory 
 is too sweeping. But it is true that initial f can be restored, without 
 violence, to a very large proportion of places in those parts of the Iliad 
 which are indisputably old. Medial f, too, can often be restored to 
 some words by resolving a diphthong, as by writing k6iXo$ for koiXos 
 (cp. Curt. Etym. § 79), 'A.Tpet5r]s for 'Arpeidrjs. (2) F was going out 
 of use, and so words which originally had F could be used by the 
 poet either with or without f. There were alternative forms. In the 
 case, however, of such words as ai'a^, aaru, ^pyov, ol/cos, l^elv, the 
 
iI42 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 One thing, at least, is certain. The sound of the di- 
 gamma was known as a living sound in the language by the 
 first Greeks who made epic verse, whether these were 
 lonians or not. As regards the use in Homer, the follow- 
 ing points appear probable, (i) The tradition of the 
 digamma in epic verse had come down to Ionian poets in 
 whose own day the sound had either disappeared from 
 Ionic, or was tending to disappear. (2) The tradition 
 was felt as decidedly more binding in regard to some 
 words and phrases than to others, perhaps because their 
 association with the digamma was traditionally more fa- 
 miliar. (3) Within certain limits, and without absolutely 
 rigid exception of any word, the Ionian poet was free to 
 treat the digamma as a trait of epic style, observing or 
 ignoring it as metrical convenience prompted. (4) The 
 tendency to observe it slightly decreased with increasing 
 distance from the time in which the digamma was a living 
 sound in daily speech \ 
 Sup- 41. It has been supposed that some of the Homeric 
 
 posed fQj-jy^g which present difficulties are mere blunders of 
 errors 01 _ '- 
 
 translit- ancient transcribers, made in transliterating Homer from 
 eration. ^j^^ ^^^^^ ^^^.-^ alphabet into the Ionic alphabet, after 
 
 observance of f is more frequent than the neglect in the ratio of about 
 14 : I. (3) The f was confined to certain fixed epic phrases. But 
 it is found also in words which occur more rarely [trvs, Mtj, dpves 
 etc.). And there are no false instances, such as imitation might 
 generate. (4) Hiatus before any word which once had F was an 
 epic survival. But this does not explain why F should also make 
 position.' (5) Prof. W. Hartel's theory, f was neither a full con- 
 sonant nor a full vowel, but something between the two. Used as 
 a semi-consonant, it could prevent elision or shortening. Used as a 
 semi-vowel, it was compatible with either. Hence the Homeric 
 inconstancy of use would be only apparent : the observance of p would 
 be really universal. 
 
 1 As applied to different parts of the Iliad and the Odyssey, 
 this test hardly yields any results on which stress can be laid. 
 But in the Homeric 'hymns,' which belong chiefly to circ. 750 — 
 500 B.C., the neglect off is decidedly more frequent than in the Iliad 
 or the Odyssey. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. I43 
 
 it had been formally adopted at Athens in 403 b.c/ But it 
 is very doubtful whether any errors have really been due to 
 this cause ^ 
 
 Whatever disturbing causes may have affected Homeric 
 tradition, at least they have not affected the general com- 
 plexion of Homeric language. Its essential characteristics 
 can still be recognised with certainty. It shows that the 
 Iliad and the Odyssey^ viewed as a whole, belong to an 
 early age. This conclusion would remain unshaken, even 
 if assent were given to the theory lately put forward with 
 much ingenuity by Prof. Fick. 
 
 42. He believes that the Homeric poems existed in a Pick's 
 purely Aeolic dialect down to about 530 — 500 b.c, when ^^^"^^^ 
 they were translated into lonic^ The author of 'the Ionic 
 redaction ' was Cynaethus, a rhapsode of Chios, the reputed 
 author of the hymn to the Delian Apollo. According to 
 the scholiast on Pindar, Ne7n. 2. 1, Cynaethus was the first 
 who recited ' Homer's poems ' at Syracuse, about the 69th 
 olympiad (504 b. c). At the time when the Aeolic Homer 
 was thus turned into Ionic, or shortly afterwards, Ionic 
 
 ^ Thus Curtius thinks that such Homeric infinitives as (jivyeeLv^ 
 ideeiv, should be (pvyhv, idiev, and that the error arose from the Attic 
 transliterators [oi fieTaxapaKTrjpl^ovTes) supposing that the second E in 
 4>TrEEN, etc., was Ionic for EI. Similarly he suspects that ^v^ 
 should be ^ev, from EEN. Gr^ek Verb ii. in (p. 348 Eng. tr.). 
 
 2 As a fact limiting the possible range of such errors, it should 
 be noted that in the Ionic alphabet E represented et only when 
 the latter was 'spurious,' i.e. came from e + e, or e + a compensatory 
 lengthening (as in ENAI for elvai). 'Genuine' «, from e-j-i, was 
 written EI (except sometimes before vowels). Hence [e.g.) ieiaaro 
 would have been written EEISATO, not EESATO. So represented 
 ou only when due to + 0, or + compensatory lengthening: not when 
 due to + V. Cp. Meisterhans, Gra}7wiatik der Attischen Inschriften 
 p. II (18S5). 
 
 * Fick {Ilias, p. XXXiii, 1885) quotes Ritschlas expressing a similar 
 view so long ago as 1834. Ritschl's view, however, — as the quotation 
 shows, — was essentially different. He thought that Homer went over 
 from Greece with the Aeolian emigrants, and composed short Aeolic 
 lays at Smyrna. Then a series of Ionian poets enlarged and lonicised 
 them. But this process was complete before 776 B.C. 
 
144 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 additions were made to both epics. Fick dwells on the 
 fact that in the undoubtedly old parts of Homer we find 
 Aeolic forms which could not have been metrically replaced 
 by the corresponding Ionic forms, and which were therefore 
 retained by the Ionic translator. Conversely, in the later 
 parts, which were Ionic from the first, we find forms which 
 metrically resist Aeolicising. His theory suggests the 
 following remarks. 
 Estimate 43- (i) The first question which has to be decided is, 
 of it. 'What is Aeolic, or Ionic?' In regard to alleged 'Aeo- 
 lisms' in Homer, Fick has to prove, not only that they 
 were Aeolic, but also that they were not old Ionic. We 
 have no sufficient evidence as to the state of the Greek 
 dialects circ. 900 — 600 B.C. The Aeolic inscriptions are all 
 later than the fifth century b. c. The Ionic evidence, 
 though less scanty, is not less inadequate for this purpose. 
 It was the habit of the ancient grammarians to set down 
 any Homeric archaism as an 'Aeolism,' if it happened to 
 exist in AeoHc also, and sometimes even when it did not. 
 The digamma itself was long called ' Aeolic,' and regarded 
 as peculiarly belonging to that dialect, — an error, as we 
 now know. Hinrichs^ has greatly reduced the number of 
 Aeolisms in Homer. Further scrutiny may perhaps reduce 
 it still more^ 
 
 * De Homeric ae elocutionis vestigiis Aeolicis (Jena, 1875), 
 2 In the Philologus (XLiii. i. i — 31) Karl Sittl has examined the 
 residuum of Homeric 'Aeolisms' left by Hinrichs. His results are 
 epitomized by M. W. Humphreys in Ainer. Journ. Phil. v. 521. 
 Thus : (i) He eliminates from the 'Aeolisms ' those which do not even 
 occur in Aeolic. E.g., the 'Aeolic * v (for 0) has been unduly extended. 
 It occurred only in the Aeolic 1/1 = 01 of the locative (also Doric). (2) 
 Fick assumes an Aeolic veiKoat as parent of the Homeric ieiKOffi. 
 When / preceded by a consonant began a word, all Greeks sometimes 
 prefixed e (as if we had idfelKoa-L). But, fdKoai, having lost its initial 
 5, was no longer entitled to an initial e. The Homeric ifelKoai, was a 
 false formation on the analogy of words which had noi lost the con- 
 sonant before /l The Aeolians never vocalised initial f. The apparent 
 examples are all aspirated, and not Aeolic. (3) As to long d, the 
 non-Ionic uses of it in Homer are almost confined to proper names 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 145 
 
 44. (2) Fick's view implies that the Ionic version, made 
 about 530 — 500 B. c, at once and for ever superseded in 
 general favour the original Aeolic Homer, though the latter 
 had been familiar throughout Hellas for generations. This 
 is incomprehensible. And, supposing that this happened, 
 can we further suppose that ancient literature would have 
 preserved no reference to the fact of the transcription which, 
 at a blow, had robbed the Aeolian race of its most glorious 
 inheritance, — one which, for so long a period, all Greeks 
 had publicly recognised as belonging to it? There were 
 flourishing Aeolian states then, and Aeolian writers. To 
 take a rough parallel, suppose that at the present day an 
 Englishman should clothe the poems of Robert Burns in 
 an English dress : would the transcription be likely to super- 
 sede the Scottish original as the standard form of the poems 
 throughout the English-speaking world? Yet this is what 
 Fick supposes the Ionic Cynaethus to have accomplished in 
 the case of the Aeolic Homer. ^ The unexampled success of 
 Cynaethus becomes still more astounding when we observe 
 how limited his poetical skill is assumed to have been. He 
 left a great many Aeolisms in his Homer. Why ? Because 
 their direct Ionic equivalents would not scan. 
 
 But the fact is that the Pindaric scholium is an utterly 
 
 taken from old lays. Many seeming examples can be explained : thus 
 (IpLCTov {II. 24. 124) should be dfipia-rov (like af^Kovre) : SaXds {//. 13. 
 320) should be dafeXos. (4) Pronouns, tol, reiv, rvv-q, reos, afx/xos, are 
 admittedly archaisms. This may be true also of the 'Aeolic' d'/x/xes, 
 v/x/xes (etc.), if once written a/xfih (or a/jL/xh), ufx/xh {=jvafxh), whence, 
 by suppression and compensation vfiis, v/xh, and by analogy 7]p,^es 
 (77/ieij), vfx^es (J/tets). These are only specimens of Sittl's analysis. It 
 may be added that Hinrichs was not slow to make a vigorous reply. 
 
 1 Prof. Fick appeals to instances of inscriptions, or other short pieces, 
 presumably composed in a dialect different from that in which they 
 have come down to us. For example, he thinks that the couplet of 
 Simonides on the Peloponnesians slain at Thermopylae (Her. 7. 228) 
 was originally in the Laconian dialect, thus: fxvpiacnv ttoko. TTJde 
 TpiaKariaLs i/xdxovTo \ e/c IleXoirovvdao} X??Xta5es r^Topes. Between such 
 cases, and the lonicising of Homer by Cynaethus, the difference, he 
 says, is only 'one of degree' {Ilias p. ix). But surely it is also a 
 difference of kind. 
 
 I. 10 
 
146 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 insufficient basis on which to build the hypothesis about 
 Cynaethus. And it would be easy to show that Homer had 
 been known in Ionic from an earlier date. Simonides of 
 Ceos was born 556 B.C., and was therefore already of mature 
 age at the time when the supposed 'Ionic redaction' was 
 made. The Homer known to his boyhood and youth must 
 then, according to Fick, have been Aeolic. But he quotes 
 //. 6. 148 (one of the certainly older parts of the epic), in 
 Ionic, as by 'the man of Chios,' meaning Homer ; whom he 
 therefore regarded as an Ionian poet. It will hardly be 
 maintained that by 'the man of Chios' he meant his con- 
 temporary Cynaethus ^ 
 
 45. (3) The pre-Homeric epic lays were doubtless 
 Achaean. Those Homeric forms which can be proved to have 
 existed in post-Homeric Aeolic admit of two different explan- 
 ations, which do not, however, necessarily exclude each other. 
 One of them may apply to some instances, and the other to 
 others, (i) These forms, or some of them, may have 
 belonged also to an older Ionic. Those who deny this 
 have to prove the negative, (ii) If originally peculiar to 
 Achaean (or old Aeolic), such forms may have been 
 adopted by old Ionian poetry because they were asso- 
 ciated, through Achaean lays, with epic composition. Fick's 
 theory of the late and wholesale transcription is altogether 
 incredible^. But, whether the original Homeric dialect 
 was Achaean or old Ionic, it may be granted that it had 
 undergone modifying influences at the hands of Ionian poets 
 and rhapsodes, tending to bring it somewhat nearer to the 
 later Ionic, and so increasing that appearance of a 'mixed 
 dialect ' which it now presents. A modernising process, in 
 
 ^ If the Simonides is he of Amorgos (p. 88 n. 2), we are taken 
 back to 660 B.C. 
 
 * Apart from that hypothesis, however, he has done good service 
 m promoting a closer study of the Homeric dialect. The question as to 
 how far the AeoHc in which he has clothed the epic is, or is not, possible 
 Aeohc, matters little : his version is given mainly for the purpose of 
 illustration. His Aeolic Odyssey has been reviewed by Christ in the 
 Philol. Anzeiger (xiv. 90 — 98), by Cauer in the Zeitschr. f. d. osterr. 
 Gymnas. (x. 290 — 311), and by Hinrichs in the Deutsch. Litteratw- 
 zeitung (1885 pp. 6 — 9), who are all opposed to the theory. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. I47 
 
 this limited sense, was entirely compatible with the pre- 
 servation, in all main features, of its essentially ancient 
 character. 
 
 46. The evidence of Homeric language has thus been 
 found to agree with the evidence furnished by the subject- 
 matter of the poems. Their claim to a high antiquity is con- 
 firmed. In connection with their age, there is a further ques- The tale 
 tion which must now be briefly noticed. We saw that, as a °^ ^^r^' 
 
 , . ,..,.. now far 
 
 general picture of an early civihsation, the Homeric poetry histori- 
 
 has the value of history. But how much of historical fact ^^^' 
 can be supposed to reside in the story of the Trojan War? 
 
 The tale of Troy, as we have it in Homer, is essentially 
 a poetic creation ; and the poet is the sole witness. The Analogy 
 romance of Charlemagne embodies the historical fact romance 
 that an Emperor once ruled Western Europe from the 
 Eider to the Ebro. It also departs from history in send- 
 ing Charlemagne on a crusade to Jerusalem, because, 
 when the romance arose, a crusade belonged to the ideal of 
 chivalry. Analogy might suggest that an Achaean prince Limit of 
 had once really held a position like that of Agamemnon ; fg^g^ce 
 also, that some Achaean expedition to the Troad had 
 occurred, whether this Achaean prince had himself borne 
 part in it or not. Both inferences are probable on other 
 grounds. Some memorable capture of a town in the Troad 
 had probably been made by Greek warriors ; beyond this 
 we cannot safely go. It is fantastic to treat the siege of 
 Troy as merely a solar myth, — to explain the abduction of 
 Helen by Paris as the extinction of the sunlight in the 
 West, and Troy as the region of the dawn beset and 
 possessed by the sunrise. It is equally fantastic, and more 
 illogical, to follow the ' rationalising ' method — to deduct 
 the supernatural element, and claim the whole residuum as 
 historical fact. Homer says that Achilles slew Hector with 
 the aid of Athene. We are not entitled to omit Athene, 
 and still to affirm that Achilles slew Hector \ 
 
 ^ See the article in the Edinburgh Review on Schliemann's Iliosy 
 No. cccxiv., pp. 517 ff. (1881). Freeman's essay on 'The Mythical and 
 
 10 2 
 
148 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 47. After the recent excavations in the Troad, an im- 
 pression appeared to exist in some minds that the Homeric 
 narrative of the Trojan War had been proved historical, 
 because remains had been found which (it was alleged) might 
 be those of Troy. It is well, then, briefly to state the relation 
 between the evidence of the Homeric text and the evidence 
 of those excavations. 
 Site of The Iliad shows a personal acquaintance with the plain 
 
 Homeric q|- Troy, and with the dominant features of the surrounding 
 landscaped In the site of Troy, as described by Homer, 
 the capital feature is the acropolis, — 'lofty', 'windy', 
 'beetling', — with those precipitous crags over which it was 
 proposed to hurl the wooden horsed This suits one site 
 Bunar- ^"^y ill the Trojan plain, — that above the village of 
 bashi. Bunarbashi, on the lower slopes of the hills which fringe the 
 plain to the south. Plere the hill called the Bali Dagh 
 rises some 400 feet above the plain, with sheer sides 
 descending on S. and S.W. to the valley of the Mendere 
 (Scamander). A Uttle N.W. of Homeric Troy two natural 
 springs rose. A little N.W. of Bunarbashi these springs 
 still exist, and no others like them exist anywhere else in 
 the plain. As Prof. Ernst Curtius well says, — 'This pair 
 
 Romantic Elements in Early English History ' is a lucid and excellent 
 statement of the critical principles applicable to such cases. 
 
 1 Cp. 'A Tour in the Troad' {Forinightly Review, April, 1883, 
 p. 5r4f.). Perhaps the thing which most surprises a reader of 
 Homer is the absence of high mountains from the neighbourhood of the 
 Trojan plain. Ida (5700 feet) is only a pale blue form on the S.E. 
 horizon, some 30 miles away. The island peak of Samothrace {5,200 
 feet, 45 miles off to the N.W.) — Poseidon's watching-place, as Ida is 
 that of Zeus — is a more impressive feature of the view. In the plain can 
 Still be found 'wheat-bearing' tracts (//. 21. 602), — the 'reedy marsh' 
 {Od. 14. 474) — 'elms, willows and tamarisks' (//. 21. 350); the cry of 
 the heron {//. 10. 274) may still be heard; an eagle 'of dark plumage' 
 (//. 24. 316) may still be seen there, — or cranes, leaving the Troad 
 for northern climes, 'when they have escaped the winter' (//. 3. 4). 
 
 2 Od. 8. 508, 17 Kara, irerpawv ^akieiv ipjjaavras iir a.Kp'ns. In 
 Troy, p. 18, Dr Schliemann 'most positively' asserted that Troy had na 
 acropolis. 
 
 The 
 
 springs 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 149 
 
 of rivulets is the immutable mark of nature, by which the 
 height towering above is recognised as the citadel of Ilium \' 
 Though the site at Bunarbashi has not yet been thoroughly 
 explored ^ pottery has been found there which is referred to 
 1000 — 900 B.c.^ Since Le Chevalier's visit in 1785, the 
 striking features of agreement between Bunarbashi and the 
 Homeric picture of Troy — features unique in the Trojan 
 plain — have been emphatically recognised by a series of 
 the most competent observers, including Leake, Moltke, 
 Forchhammer, Kiepert, Ernst Curtius, and Tozer*. Leake 
 remarked that any person at all accustomed to observe the 
 sites of ancient Greek towns must fix on Bunarbashi 'for the 
 site of the chief place of the surrounding country.' The 
 same opinion was expressed to Prof. E. Curtius by Count 
 Moltke, — that 'he knew no other site in the Trojan plain for 
 a chief town of ancient time.' 
 
 48. The low mound of Hissarlik stands in the open His- 
 plain, about three miles from the Hellespont. It measures ^^^ 
 some 325 yards by 235, and stands only some 112 feet above 
 the plain. This mound marks the site of a historical Greek 
 town, to which the first settlers gave the name of 'Ilium' 
 (perhaps about 700 B.C.), and which existed here down to 
 Roman times. In the mound have been discovered (i) 
 remains of this Greek town, (2) some prehistoric remains. 
 Dr Schliemann asserts that the prehistoric remains are those 
 of Homeric Troy. If this means that they represent a 
 prehistoric town w/iic/i gave rise to the legend of Troy, the 
 assertion is one which can no longer be either proved or 
 disproved. No objects found at Hissarlik tend in the slightest 
 degree to prove it. On the other hand, one important fact 
 is certain. The low site at Hissarlik is in the strongest con- 
 
 1 History of Greece, vol. i. ch. iii. p. 79 (transl. Ward). 
 
 2 'Eine genaue Untersuchung hat noch nicht stattgefunden, so viel 
 ich weiss' (Prof. E. Curtius, in a letter of Feb. 9, 1884). 
 
 3 This is admitted by Dr Schliemann; Troja, p. 16S. 
 
 ^ See their testimonies in my article, 'Homeric Tioy,' Forifzightly 
 Review, April, 1884, p. 447. 
 
150 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 trast with the site of spacious and 'lofty' Troy as described 
 
 by Homer, while the site at Bunarbashi is as strikingly in 
 
 harmony with that description. The solitary phrase in the 
 
 I/i'ad which favours Hissarlik, — //. 20. 216 f, where Ilios is 
 
 *in the plain,' — belongs to a passage which, as Dr Christ 
 
 has proved, is not only later than the bulk of the Iliad, but 
 
 is one of the latest additions of all, — having been added 
 
 by some dweller in the Troad, desirous of glorifying the 
 
 Aeneadae, after the Greek Ilium had been built in the plain*. 
 
 The Homeric hymn to Aphrodite, which also celebrates the 
 
 Aeneadae, is probably of the same age (the seventh century 
 
 B.C.), and from a kindred source. The Greek settlers at 
 
 Hissarlik naturally affirmed that their ' Ilium ' stood on the 
 
 site of Troy ; in proof of it, they showed the stone on which 
 
 Palamedes had played draughts. Their paradox, a mere 
 
 birth of local vanity, was as decisively rejected by sound 
 
 criticism in ancient as in modern tiniest 
 
 Origin 4^. The Homeric poet who created the Troy of the 
 
 Homeric //-^'^^ probably knew — personally, or by description — a strong 
 
 picture town at Bunarbashi as the ruling city of the surrounding 
 of Troy. 
 
 district. The legend of a siege, on which the I/iad is 
 
 founded, may, or may not, have arisen from the actual 
 
 siege of an older town at Hissarlik, which, in the poet's 
 
 day, had already perished. He would easily be led to 
 
 place the Troy of his poem in a position like that of the 
 
 existing city on the Bali Dagh. He would give it a 'lofty' 
 
 and 'beetling' acropolis. He would endow it with handsome 
 
 ^ //. 20. 216 Kxiaae Be AapSavirjv, eirel oviro} "IXtos t/317 | iv ireoiw ire- 
 ir6\i<XTo. As Prof. Michaelis said early in 1884 (see Fortn. Review, 
 April, 1884, p. 452), 'it would not be difficult to show that the whole 
 part in T in which Ilios ev iredicp irerroXiffTo belongs to an efi^oXiixov 
 which is not in good accord with the main part of the book.' Later in 
 the same year Christ's Iliad appeared. He shows {Proleg. p. 76) that 
 //. 20. 75 — 353 is one of the latest interpolations, due to a rhapsode 'qui 
 in agro Troiano magis quam in Musarum nemoribus versatus esse vide- 
 tur.' Its author has imitated various passages in bks. 5, 6, 12, 17, 21, 
 and even 8. 
 
 ■^ See the yournal of Hellenic Studies, Vol. iii. pp. 203 — 217. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. I5I 
 
 buildings. His epic would reproduce the general course of 
 the rivers, and that striking feature, the natural springs at 
 the foot of the hill, just outside the city gates. Impressed 
 by the strength of the acropolis, — with its sheer precipices 
 descending to the narrow valley of the Scamander, and its 
 command of the plain stretching towards the Hellespont, — 
 he would see in this natural strength a confirmation of the 
 legend that the resistance of Troy to the united force of the 
 Achaeans had been prolonged and stubborn. 
 
 But, while the site at Bunarbashi thus supplied the 
 dominant features of his conception, he might also modify 
 the picture by traits taken from other scenes known to him^ 
 or from imagination. His topography might be in some 
 measure eclectic, or even freely poeticaP. With regard to 
 the tactical data — those furnished by the incidents of warfare 
 in the Iliad — they cannot be treated with the rigour applic- 
 able to a mihtary history. It has been shown ^, however, 
 that, if so treated, they are conclusive against the notion 
 that the poet imagined his Troy at Hissarlik, while on the 
 other hand they can be brought into general accord with the 
 site at Bunarbashi.^ 
 
 We find, then, that the essentially poetical story of the 
 Trojan War, as presented by Homer, contains nothing 
 incompatible with the other evidence for the age of the 
 poems, but nothing, on the other hand, which can help to 
 fix that age by any definite relationships to historical fact 
 
 50. The lost poems of the Epic Cycle require notice The 
 here, as they help to fix the lower limit for the age of the E^^j 
 
 1 See my paper on 'The Ruins at Hissarlik,' Joiirn. Hellen. Stud. 
 III. pp. 192 fF. 
 
 2 By Mr George Nikolaides, in his 'IXmSos ^rpaTTjyiKrj AcaaKevr} 
 (1883), — a development of his earlier work, 'Topographie et plan strate- 
 gique de I'lliade.' 
 
 3 On the question of Bunarbashi versus Hissarlik, Prof. Michaelis 
 wrote to me in 1884; — 'Certainly, ^a-fferat ij/iap Srav irore the full truth 
 will come to light ; and I have little doubt that it will not be far from 
 what you have exposed in your articles in the Journal of Hellenic 
 Studies. ' 
 
152 HOMER. [CH. IV, 
 
 Homeric poems.' The Epic Cycle^ was a body of epic 
 poems by various hands, arranged in the chronological 
 order of the subjects, so as to form a continuous history 
 of the mythical world. It began with the marriage of 
 Heaven and Earth — whence sprang the Giants and the 
 Cyclopes — and went down to the slaying of Odysseus by his 
 son Telegonus. 
 
 When this body of epics was first put together, we do 
 not know. The earliest notice of it is due to a gram- 
 marian named Proclus,^ who lived probably about 140 
 A.D., and wrote a ' Manual of Literature' {Xpyja-rofjidO eia 
 ypafxixaTLKyj)^ In this manual he gave short prose summaries, 
 or ' arguments,' of the poems which formed the Epic Cycle. 
 Extant fragments of the manual give what he said about 
 the poems in one part of the Epic Cycle, — viz., the part 
 concerning the war of Troy. 
 
 1 See, on this subject, the papers by Mr Monro in the Journal of 
 Hellenic Studies^ vol. iv. pp. 305 ff., vol. v. pp. i ff. 
 
 2 'Bttiws kvkXos. The word kvkXos meant: — (i) a routine, generally: 
 €sp. in the language of the Homeric scholiasts, the conventional epic 
 manner: thus, a stock phrase, like 'Axaiwf xaX/coxirwj'ajj', is said to be 
 Tov kikXov: see Monro /. c. p. 329. (2) An epigram so made that the 
 first and last lines could change places, — as in the epitaph on the 
 tomb of Midas, Plat. Phaedr. 264 D, Aristotle has kvkXos in this sense 
 (referring to some epigram ascribed to Homer in So^/i. Elench. 10. 6). 
 (3) A comprehensive summary, whether in verse or prose; — as the 
 icTTopLKhs kvkXos (a prose outline of mythology) ascribed by Suidas to 
 Dionysius of Miletus. 'E7/fu/c\tos iraLdeia, iyK. fiaO rjfjLaT a = simply 'usual' 
 course of instruction, studies, &c. But kvkXikos commonly had a dad 
 sense, 'conventional, trite.' Esp. as epithet of poet or poem, it implied 
 (i) trite epic material, (2) epic mannerism, (3) a merely chronological 
 order of treatment : thus Callimachus tauntingly applied it to Apollonius 
 Rhodius {to iroirjfxa to kvkXikov Anthol. 12, 43), and Horace speaks of 
 a scriptor cyclicus who begins the Trojan war from the double egg 
 {Ars Poet, 135). 
 
 2 Conjecturally identified by Welcker with Eutychius Proclus of 
 Sicca, who taught the Emperor M. Antoninus. 
 
 The patriarch Photius (9th cent.), in his Bibliotkeca, gives some 
 extracts from the XpTjaTOfiddeLa of Proclus, with an account of that 
 work, and of the Epic Cycle as epitomised therein. 
 
 ^ The fragments are included in Gaisford's Hephaestion (new ed., 
 Oxford, 1855). 
 
CH. IV. J THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 1 53 
 
 51. The Trojan chapter of the Cycle contained eight Analysis 
 epics, Homer's Iliad standing second, and Homer's Odyssey 2f ^^^ 
 seventh. The chief facts about the other epics may be Cycle, 
 most briefly and clearly shown in a tabular form. 
 
 I. Cypria (KuTrpta); 11 books. Author doubtful (Stasinus of Cy- 
 prus?). Date, circ. 776 B.C. 
 
 Subject: — Zeus resolves to reduce the burdens of the teeming earth 
 by a great war, and sends Discord to the wedding of Peleus and Thetis. 
 'Judgment of Paris,' giving the prize to Aphrodite. Paris carries off 
 Helen. War of Troy down to the point at which Zeus resolves to 
 help the Trojans by withdrawing Achilles. Hero of the epic — Paris. 
 The Cypria seems to have been a sort of chronicle, beginning from the 
 first cause of the Trojan War, and going down to the point at 
 which the Iliad opens. 
 
 Non-Homeric traits: — Apotheosis of the Dioscuri who in Homer (//. 
 3. 243) are merely dead men. — Story of Iphigenia (whom the Cypria 
 distinguished from Homer's Iphianassa, //. 9. 145). Story of Pala- 
 medes. Helen is now the daughter of Nemesis — who, pursued by 
 Zeus, changes into many shapes to elude him. Cassandra has the gift 
 of prophecy, which Homer does not give to her. 
 
 1. Homer's Iliad. 
 
 3. Aethiopis {kiQioirli): 5 books. Author, Arctinus of Miletus, 
 circ. 776 B.C. 
 
 Subject: — After the funeral of Hector {Iliad 24), the Amazon 
 queen, Penthesileia, comes to the aid of Troy. Her death. Exploits 
 and death of Memnon. Death of Achilles. Ajax and Odysseus con- 
 tend for his arms: the latter obtains them. Hero of the epic — Achilles. 
 
 Non-Homeric traits: — The worship of men after their death as 
 'heroes' (Achilles and Memnon being made immortal). A ritual of 
 purification from the guilt of homicide, under the favour of Apollo 
 
 4. Little Iliad ('IXtds Mt/cpa) : 4 books. Author doubtful (Lesches 
 of Mitylene?). Date, circ. 700 B.C. 
 
 Subject: — Trojan war, from the award of the Achillean arms to 
 Odysseus, down to the capture of Troy : including the return and 
 healing of Philoctetes, and the episode of the wooden horse. Hero of 
 the epic — Odysseus. — The poem seems to have been directly inspired 
 by the tone of the Odyssey, and to have had more material in common 
 with Homer than any other of the Cyclic epics. 
 
 Non- Homeric traits: — The magic Palladium (image of Pallas), on 
 which the fate of Troy depends. Story of Sinon (Virg. Aeneid 11). 
 Story of Aethra, mother of Theseus, carried off from Attica by the 
 Dioscuri. 
 
154 
 
 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 5. Iliupersis ('IXiou ir^pa-Ls) : 2 books. Author, Arctinus of Miletus, 
 circ. 776 B.C. 
 
 Subject: — The Trojans resolve to dedicate the wooden horse on 
 their acropolis. Laocoon and one of his sons are killed by serpents. 
 Aeneas and some followers, warned by this portent, retire from 
 Troy to Mount Ida. Fall of Troy. Departure of the Greeks. 
 Hero of the epic — Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles. 
 
 Non-Homeric traits: — Episode of Laocoon and flight of Aeneas. 
 Sacrifice of Priam's daughter, Polyxena, at the tomb of Achilles — 
 indicating hero-worship. Other points (as the stories of Sinon and 
 Aethra) are common to this poem and the Little Iliad. 
 
 6. Nostoi (NooTot): 5 books. Author, Agias of Troezen, circ. 750 
 
 B.C. 
 
 Subject: — The adventures of some heroes on their return from 
 Troy, — chiefly those of Menelaus, who visits Egypt, and of Agamemnon, 
 who is slain by Clytaemnestra. The poem was a sort of tragic Odyssey ^ 
 bridging the passage from Homer to Aeschylus. 
 
 Nan- Homeric traits : — Death of Calchas, on meeting a greater seer 
 than himself (Mopsus, at Colophon). Journey of Neoptolemus to 
 Epeirus — where the Molossi are first named. The shade of Achilles 
 warns Agamemnon of his doom. The enchantress Medea. 
 
 7. Homer's Odyssey. 
 
 8. Telegonia (TTjXeyoz'/a) : 1 books. Author, Eugammon of Cyrene, 
 circ. 566 B.C. 
 
 Subject: — Telegonus, son of the enchantress Circe by Odysseus, 
 unwittingly slays his father in Ithaca. Made aware of his sin, he 
 takes his sire's corpse, with Telemachus and Penelope, to his mother. 
 She makes the living immortal : Telegonus is wedded to Penelope, 
 and Telemachus to Circe. In the earlier part, Odysseus was made to 
 marry a Thesprotian queen, Callidice. Here is seen the v/ish to work 
 in genealogies of families claiming descent from Odysseus. 
 
 Sum- 52. The foregoing sketch shows that some of the 
 
 ™^^y' earliest Cyclic epics, dating from circ. 776 B.C., presuppose 
 the Iliad., being planned to introduce or to continue it. In 
 some copies the Cyclic Aethiopis was actually pieced on to 
 the twenty-fourth book of the Iliad}. But that book was 
 certainly one of the later additions to the epic. It would 
 
 ^ The last verse of the Iliad (24. 804) is ws o'L 7 ci/x(pieTrov rdcpov 
 "E/cTopos iirirodd/xoLo. The Aethiopis was linked to it by reading, ws ot 
 7' d/x<pi€Trov rdcpov "BKTopo$ ' ^\6e 5' 'Afxa^uv, {"Aprfos dvydrrjp fieya- 
 \rjTopos dvdpo(f>bvoio. This is mentioned in the Victorian scholia on the 
 Iliad {y>. ioi, n. i). Cp. Welcker, Epic Cycle, il. 170. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 1 55 
 
 appear, then, that the Iliad must have existed, in something 
 like its present compass, as early as 800 B.C.; indeed, a con- 
 siderably earlier date will seem probable, if due time is 
 allowed for the poem to have grown into such fame as 
 would incite the effort to continue it. As compared with 
 the Iliad and Odyssey^ the Cyclic epics show the stamp of a 
 later age {a) in certain ideas, — as hero-worship, purifying 
 rituals, etc. : {b) in a larger circle of geographical knowledge, 
 and a wider range of mythical material. 
 
 The external evidence of the Epic Cycle thus confirms 
 the twofold internal evidence of Homeric matter and 
 Homeric language. The bulk of the Homeric poems must be 
 older than 800 b. c, although some particular additions to 
 them are later. 
 
 53. We may now collect the results of the preceding General 
 inquiry, and consider how far they warrant any definite con- ^"g^f^g ° 
 elusions respecting the origin of the Homeric poems. The 
 Iliad must be taken separately from the Odyssey. 
 
 At the outset, the ground may be partly cleared by Views 
 setting aside two extreme views, which few persons, ^^^'^Ug 
 acquainted with the results of recent criticism, would now rejected, 
 maintain. t5ne of these is the theory with which Lachmann's 
 name is especially associated, — that the Iliad has been 
 pieced together out of short lays which were not originally 
 connected by any common design (§ 14). The other is the 
 theory which was generally prevalent down to Wolf's time, 
 — that the Iliad is the work of one poet. Homer, as the 
 Aeneid is the work of Virgil. In England, if nowhere else, 
 this view is still cherished, though more often, perhaps, as a 
 sentiment than as an opinion. Most EngHshmen have 
 been accustomed to read the Iliad with delight in the spirit 
 of the whole, rather than with attention to the characteristics 
 of different parts. This, too, is the way in which modern 
 poets have usually read Homer ; and as, consequently, the 
 poets have mostly believed in Homeric unity, an impression 
 has gained ground, especially in England, that throughout 
 
156 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 the Homeric poems there exists a personal unity of genius, 
 which men of poetical genius can feel, and which is 
 infinitely more significant than those discrepancies of detail 
 with which critics occupy themselves. This popular im- 
 pression has been strengthened by a special cause. 
 Decep- 54. The traditional style of Ionian epos — developed in 
 
 unftyof ^^^ course of generations — gives a general uniformity of 
 the epic effect which is delusive. The old Ionic, with its wealth of 
 ^ ^ ^' liquid sounds, with its union of softness and strength, was 
 naturally fitted to render the epic hexameter musical, rapid, 
 and majestic ■ Epic usage had gradually shaped a large 
 number of phrases and formulas which constantly recur 
 in like situations, without close regard to circumstances 
 which distinguish one occasion from another^ An Ionian 
 poet who wished to insert an episode in the Iliad had this 
 ■epic language at command. Even if his natural gifts were 
 somewhat inferior to those of the poet whose work he was 
 ^ enlarging, the style would go far to veil the inequality. Mr 
 Matthew Arnold says : — ' The insurmountable obstacle to 
 believing the Iliad a consolidated work of several poets is 
 this — that the work of great masters is unique ; and the Iliad 
 has a great master's genuine stamp, and that stamp is the 
 grand style.'' Now, * the grand style ' spoken of here, in so 
 far as it can be claimed for the whole epic, is simply the 
 Ionian style of heroic epos. If we look closer, we see that 
 the manner of the tenth book, for instance, is unlike that 
 of the rest \ the twenty-fourth book, and some other books 
 or passages, have traits of style which are their own; the 
 * Catalogue' is distinct in style from its setting. Suppose that 
 the poems of the Epic Cycle had been extant as one work 
 under Homer's name, with no record of their several authors. 
 The 'grand style' could doubtless have been claimed for 
 that work ; not, perhaps, in an equal degree with the Iliad, 
 but still in a sense which could have furnished an argument 
 like the above for unity of authorship. On the other hand, 
 
 * According to Carl Eduard Schmidt, the sura of the repeated 
 verses in the two epics amounts to sixteen thousand. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 
 
 157 
 
 this traditional epic style imposes a special caution on all 
 precise theories of composite authorship. It makes it harder 
 to say exactly where one hand ceases and another begins. 
 
 55. Yet the defenders of Homeric unity may find com- Conser- 
 fort in the thought that, if the old form of their faith has be- ^^'^'^V' 
 come untenable, much of its essence has been preserved of recent 
 and reinvigorated. In the doctrine of Wolf himself, as we s^^^i^^- 
 have seen, the analytic element was tempered by a strongly 
 conservative element ; he conceded to Homer ' the greater 
 
 part of the songs,' and an influence which guided the 
 composition of the rest. The analytic element in his theory 
 was that which arrested attention, because, when it was 
 published, it was sharply contrasted with the old belief in 
 one Homer ; and hence his work has often been associated 
 with a purely destructive tendency which was quite foreign 
 to its spirit. The great result of recent criticism has been 
 to develope the conservative element in Wolf's doctrine; 
 not, however, exactly in Hermann's way, but by adjusting 
 it to the more correct point of view taken by Nitzsch, — 
 that the original Iliad was already an epic poem, and not 
 merely the lay of a primitive bard. 
 
 56. Everything tends to show that the Iliad was planned 
 by one great poet, who also executed the most essential parts 
 
 of it. By the ' primary ' Iliad we shall here denote the The 
 first form which the poet probably gave to his work, as E"^^^' 
 distinguished from the enlarged form afterwards given to 
 it, partly (perhaps) by himself, partly by others. 
 
 There is no doubt that the first book of the exist- 
 ing Iliad formed the beginning of the primary Iliad. The 
 probable compass of the primary poem may best be judged 
 by the nature of the theme from which it sets out, — a 
 quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon. Such a feud 
 between two prominent heroes is found elsewhere as a 
 popular viotif oi epic song. The minstrel Demodocus {Od. 
 8. 75) sang 'a lay whereof the fame had then reached the 
 wide heaven ; namely the quarrel between Odysseus and 
 Achilles, son of Peleus, how once on a time they contended 
 
158 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 in fierce words at a rich festival of the gods ; but Agamem- 
 non, king of men, was inly glad, when the noblest of the 
 Achaeans fell at variance.' Such a subject would give 
 scope for brilliant speeches, exhibiting the general character- 
 Special istics of the disputants. The poet who planned the Iliad^ 
 advan- — whether he had, or had not, poetical precedent for taking 
 of the a quarrel between heroes as his subject, — was presumably 
 subject, original in his perception of the peculiar advantage which 
 belonged to his choice of persons. A grievance against a 
 subordinate chief would not have warranted Achilles in 
 withdrawing his aid from the whole Greek army. But 
 Agamemnon, as supreme leader, represented the Greek 
 army : when wronged by Agamemnon, Achilles had excuse 
 for making the quarrel a public one. And the retirement 
 of the most brilliant Greek hero, Achilles, left the Greeks 
 at a disadvantage, thus creating an opportunity for the 
 efforts of minor Greek heroes, and also for the pictures of a 
 doubtful warfare. 
 The 57. Unless, then, we are prepared to assume that the 
 
 waTan P°^^ ^^° ^^^g ^^^ wrath of Achilles' was insensible to the 
 'Iliad' special capabilities of his theme, we can scarcely refuse to 
 first. believe that his epic was more than an 'Achilleid,' cele- 
 brating a merely personal episode. It must have been, 
 from the first, an ' Iliad,' including some general descrip- 
 tion of that struggle between Greeks and Trojans in which 
 a new crisis was occasioned by the temporary withdrawal of 
 Achilles. Precisely the distinction of the poet's invention 
 (I conceive) was the choice of a moment which could 
 combine the personal interest of a feud between two heroes 
 with the variety and splendour of large battle-scenes. 
 £ts And the plot of this primary Iliad, as foreshadowed in 
 
 compass, the first book, must have comprised the following series of 
 events. Agamemnon wrongs Achilles, who retires from the 
 war. Zeus promises Thetis that he will avenge her son by 
 causing the Greeks to be discomfited. The tide of fortune 
 presently turns in favour of the Trojans; the Greeks are 
 hard pressed, and, in attempting to succour them, Patroclus 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 
 
 159 
 
 is slain. The death of his friend rouses Achilles; he is 
 reconciled to Agamemnon, and, after doing great deeds 
 against the Trojans, slays their foremost champion, Hector. 
 
 These events are contained in books i, 11, and 16 to 22 
 inclusive, which probably represent the substance of the 
 primary Iliad, — allowance being made for later interpola- 
 tions, large or small, in books 16 — 22. In this primary 
 Iliad, the turning-point is book 11, which relates the 
 discomfiture of the Greeks, in accordance with the promise 
 of Zeus. 
 
 58. We may now ask how this primary Iliad would Enlarge- 
 have been viewed by a poet — whether the first, or another — ^^^ °^ 
 who desired to enlarge it without materially altering the plot, primary 
 Two places in it would naturally recommend themselves, in ^^ * 
 preference to others, for the insertion of new matter ; viz., 
 the place between books i and 11, and that between books 
 II and 16. But it is also evident that, of these two places, 
 the former would be a poet's first choice. The purpose of 
 Zeus to humiliate the Greeks might well be represented as 
 effecting itself only gradually, and by a process consistent 
 with vicissitudes of fortune. Thus there was no poetical 
 necessity that book i should be closely followed by 
 
 book II. 
 
 The general contents of books 2 to 7 inclusive agree Books 
 with the supposition that this group represents the earliest ^ ° 7- 
 series of additions made (not all at one time or by one 
 hand) to the primary Iliad. From book 2 we except the 
 'Catalogue,' which was a much later interpolation. The 
 older part of book 2 contains the deceptive dream sent by 
 Zeus, which fills Agamemnon with hopes of victory, and 
 beguiles him into preparing for battle ; the Council of the 
 chiefs ; and the Assembly of the army. Books 3 and 4 are 
 closely connected, the main subjects being the truce 
 between Greeks and Trojans, and the single combat of 
 Menelaus and Paris, which has no decisive issue, Paris 
 being saved by Aphrodite. Books 5 and 6, again, hang 
 together, the prowess of Diomede being the central theme. 
 
l6o HOMER. [CH. IV 
 
 In book 7 we have a second duel, — this time between 
 Ajax and Hector, — which, like the former, is indecisive, — 
 the combatants making gifts to each other at the end of it. 
 Then the Greeks bury their dead, and build the wall at 
 their camp. 
 
 The general characteristic of these six books (2 — 7) is 
 that we have a series of detached episodes, while 'the pur- 
 pose of Zeus,' announced in book i, remains in suspense. 
 Books 59. Different and more difficult conditions had to be 
 
 '^ *° '5* satisfied by any new work which should be inserted in the 
 other manifestly available place, — viz., between book 11 and 
 book 16. Zeus having utterly discomfited the Greeks in 
 book II, poetical fitness set a Hmit to the interval which 
 could be allowed to elapse before Patroclus, the precursor 
 of Achilles, should come to the rescue in book 16. And as 
 the end of book 1 1 already forms a climax — the distress of 
 the Greeks being extreme — in adding anything between 
 that point and book 16 it was necessary to avoid an 
 anti-climax. These requirements are fulfilled by the Battle 
 at the Camp, told in books 12, 13, 14 and 15. It is the 
 last desperate defence of the Greeks. The Trojans are 
 rushing on to burn the ships. Ajax can barely keep the 
 foes at bay. Then, at the supreme crisis, Patroclus arrives, 
 in the armour of Achilles. 
 
 These four books (12 — 15), apart from some interpo- 
 lations, possess all the intrinsic qualities of great poetry. 
 The best proof of it is that, though the struggle is thus 
 drawn out, our interest in it does not flag. When, however, 
 the Iliad is read continuously, it is difficult to resist the 
 belief that book 1 1 was originally designed to be followed 
 more closely by book 16. Books 12 to 15, thus read, 
 impress the mind rather as a skilful and brilliant ex- 
 pansion. 
 
 60. Our primary Iliad^ consisting of books i, 11, and 
 16 to 22, has now been enlarged by the accession of these 
 two groups; books 2 — 7 before book 11, and books 12 — 15 
 after it. The original plot preserves its simplicity. The 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. l6l 
 
 only difference is that the purpose of Zeus is now delayed, 
 and the agony of the Greeks is prolonged. 
 
 Let us next suppose that a poet, conscious especially of Books 
 rhetorical gifts, found the Iliad in this enlarged form. If ^ ^"^ ^^ 
 he wished to insert some large piece of his own work, how 
 could he best proceed, without injury to the epic frame- 
 work? The part between books ii and i6 would no longer 
 tolerate any considerable amplification. If, again, the series 
 of episodes between books i and ii should be merely 
 extended, the effect would be tedious, and the delay in 'the 
 purpose of Zeus' would appear excessive. 
 
 But another resource remained. Without fundamentally 
 changing the plot, it was possible to duplicate it. The 
 Greeks might be twice discomfited. After the first reverse, 
 they might sue for help to Achilles — and be rejected ;— an 
 episode full of splendid opportunities for poetical eloquence 
 and pathos. If such an episode were to be added, the right 
 place for it evidently was immediately before the original 
 (now to be the second) discomfiture of the Greeks in book 1 1. 
 
 The poet who conceived this idea added books 8 and 9 
 to the Iliad. Book 10 did not yet exist. 
 
 61. Books 23 and 24 form a sequel. They are con- Books 
 cerned with a subject always of extreme interest to Greek ^3 anoi 
 hearers — as, at a later period, the Attic dramatists so often 
 remind us — the rendering of due burial rites to the chief 
 hero slain on either side, Patroclus and Hector. The 
 episode of the funeral games in book 23 (from v. 257 to the 
 end) was certainly a separate addition, and is probably 
 much later than the preceding part of that book, which 
 relates the burial of Patroclus. The case of books 23 and 
 24 differs in one material respect from that of the other 
 books which we have been considering in the light of 
 additions to the primary Iliad. If books 23 and 24 are 
 viewed simply in relation to the plot, there is no reason 
 why they should not have belonged to the primary Iliad 
 itself It is the internal evidence of language and style 
 which makes this improbable. Book 24 is in many ways so 
 
t62 homer. [ch. IV- 
 
 fine, and forms so fitting a conclusion to the Iliad, that 
 Dr Christ would ascribe it either to the first poet himself, 
 or to a successor executing his design. A hint of that 
 design may (it is suggested) be found in book 23, where 
 the gods protect the corpse of Hector from disfigurement 
 (184 — 191). On this view, books 23 and 24 would at least 
 be decidedly older than book 9. 
 
 These three books, however, have several traits in 
 common with each other, and with the Odyssey, which 
 distinguish them from the undoubtedly older parts of the 
 Relation Iliad. And I am disposed to think that book 24, at least, 
 ^ ^°° was mainly composed by the author of book 9. This view 
 book 9. is confirmed by a comparison of the speeches in the two 
 books, especially in regard to a particular trait — the 
 rhetorical enumeration of names of places in passages 
 marked by strong feeling \ A certain emotional character, 
 more easily felt than defined, pervades both books ; and in 
 both the conception of Achilles has distinctive features. 
 The love of contrast as a source of effect, which can be 
 traced in book 9, is equally present in book 24, where the 
 helpless old king supplicates the young warrior. And book 
 24 is itself a brilliant antithesis to book 9. The great 
 rhetorical poet who had shown Achilles inexorable to the 
 Achaean chiefs may have wished to paint a companion 
 picture, and to show him relenting at the prayer of the aged 
 Priam ^ 
 Book 10. 62. All those parts of the Iliad which have thus far 
 been considered must be older than circ. 850 — 800 B.C. 
 Book 10 remains. As we have already seen (§ 18), it has a 
 stamp of its own, which clearly marks it as a later work, 
 
 ^ E.g., with 9. 149 ff. and 381 f. I would compare 24. 544 ff. 
 
 2 Space precludes me from here developing in detail the resem- 
 blances between the two books. But I may refer to the five verses 
 which describe Achilles in his tent, as he is found by the Greek envoys, 
 (9. 186 — 191). Compare these with the five verses which describe him 
 in his tent as he is found by Priam (24. 471 — 476). While neither 
 passage imitates the other, the same mind can be felt in both. 
 
CH. IV. J THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 1 63 
 
 referable, perhaps, to circ. 750—600 B.C. A similar age The 
 may be assigned to * the greater interpolations.' This name gi^e^ter 
 will conveniently describe a class of passages which differ latio^nZ' 
 much in style and merit, — some of them containing parts of 
 great intrinsic brilliancy, — but which have one general 
 characteristic in common. Each of them presents the 
 appearance of a separate effort by a poet who elaborated a 
 single episode in a vein suited to his own resources, and 
 then inserted it in the Iliad, without much regard to the 
 interests of the epic as a whole. In this general character 
 we may recognise the mark of a period when the higher epic 
 art was declining, while poetical rhetoric and ingenuity 
 found their favourite occupation in giving an elaborate finish 
 to shorter pieces. 
 
 The following passages come under this class, (i) In 
 book 9, the episode of Phoenix, vv. 432 — 619 — where the 
 desire to tell the story of Meleager was one of the motives. 
 (2) In book II, the interview between Nestor and Patroclus, 
 vv. 596 — 848, or at least so much of it as is comprised in 
 665 — 762. (3) In book 18, the making of the armour of the 
 Achilles, vv. 369 — end. (4) The Theomachia, in book 20, 
 vv. 4 — 380, (including the combat of Aeneas and Achilles, 
 vv. 75 — 352, in which Aeneas is saved by Poseidon,) and 
 in book 21, 383 — end. (5) In book 23, the funeral games, 
 vv. 257 — end. (6) The case of the 'Catalogue' in book 2 
 is peculiar. The list of the Greek forces (484 — 779) was 
 mainly the work of a Boeotian poet of the Hesiodic school, 
 and was probably composed long before it was inserted in 
 the Iliad. The list of the Trojan forces (816 — 877) seems 
 to have been a later adjunct to it by a different hand. 
 
 The above list might be enlarged if we included all the 
 passages, of any considerable extent, which have with more 
 or less reason been regarded as interpolations. But here 
 we must be content to indicate some of the more important 
 and more certain examples. Interpolations of the smaller 
 kind, which have been numerous throughout the Iliad, do 
 not fall within the scope of the present survey. 
 
164 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 Sum- 6$. Thus, when the several parts of the I/i'ad are 
 
 JJ^'^y'. considered in relation to each other and to the whole, the 
 the series _ _ ' 
 
 of addi- result is such as to suggest that the primary I/i'ad has been 
 tions. enlarged by a series of additions, made at successive periods. 
 To the earliest period belong those additions which are 
 represented by books 2 to 7 and 12 to 15. To the next 
 period belong, probably, books 8, 9, 23 (to v. 256), and 24. 
 To the last period belong book 10 and the greater inter- 
 polations. 
 Age and It may now be asked how far it is possible to conjec- 
 origmof ^ui-e thg approximate age of the primary Iliad, and what 
 mary relations of age and authorship probably subsist between 
 //tad. it and the additions of the earliest period. 
 
 Achilles is a Thessalian hero, of the time when Achaean 
 princes ruled in Peloponnesus and over a great part of 
 northern Greece. The saga which the I/md embodies un- 
 doubtedly belongs to Greece Proper, and to the Achaean 
 age. The Dorian conquest of Peloponnesus caused a 
 displacement of Achaean population, and impelled that 
 tide of emigration from Greece Proper which resulted in 
 the settlement of Greek colonies on the western coasts of 
 Asia Minor. The eleventh century b. c. is the period 
 traditionally assigned to this movement. 
 
 The Ionian emigrants certainly carried with them the 
 
 Achaean legend of the I/iad. But in what shape did they 
 
 carry it ? As a legend not yet expressed in song ? Or as 
 
 a legend which the Achaean bards of Greece Proper had 
 
 already embodied in comparatively rude and short lays? 
 
 Or, lastly, as a poem of matured epic form — our I/iad, or 
 
 the more essential parts of it ? 
 
 Argu- 64. It is the last answer which is usually intended 
 
 the^Eu^^ when ' the European origin ' of the I/iad is affirmed. 
 
 ropean Arguments in favour of the European origin have recently 
 
 origin. i^QQxi advanced by Mr Monro, to the following effect ^ 
 
 1 'Homer and the Early History of Greece,' in the English His- 
 torical Review, No. I, Jan., 1886. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 1 65 
 
 Two Strata of mythical, or mythico-historical, narrative Two 
 can be distinguished in the Iliad. First, there are the ^^.^^^^^ 
 heroes of the Trojan war. Secondly, there are heroes in the 
 whom local traditions in Greece connect with an age before ^'^^^^^ 
 the Trojan war. Thus, in the time of the war, Corinth and 
 Sicyon are under the rule of Agamemnon. But there are 
 also notices of an earlier time, when Corinth had been 
 subject to the dynasty represented by Sisyphus, and Sicyon 
 to the dynasty represented by Adrastus. Now, if the Iliad 
 arose in Greece Proper, it is natural that the poet who 
 knew the legends of Agamemnon's empire should also 
 know the older local legends, and should be able to use 
 both sets of legends without confusing them. But, if the 
 Iliad arose in Asia Minor, it is improbable that the Ionian 
 colonists, who carried the Achaean legends over with them, 
 should also have preserved a distinct memory of the older 
 local legends. 
 
 65. In estimating this argument, I would suggest that Estimate 
 the intellectual feat performed by the Ionian colonists, on \^^^ 
 the hypothesis of an Asiatic origin for the Iliad, seems ment. 
 scarcely so difficult as the argument impHes. The legends 
 of the Trojan war were presumably not the only legends 
 which Ionian emigrants would carry with them from Greece 
 to Asia. They would know also the more famous local 
 legends of Greece, such as those concerning Sisyphus of 
 Corinth, Adrastus of Sicyon, or the Perseid kings of Argos. 
 The references in the Iliad to such local legends are 
 extremely slight, being almost limited, indeed, as a rule, to 
 the mention of names. Such knowledge might very easily 
 have been preserved by tradition through several generations 
 of colonists. But suppose that the knowledge shown were 
 much fuller and more precise than it actually is : still the 
 particular difficulty in question— that of keeping two sets of 
 legends distinct— would exist only if the legends of the 
 Trojan war conflicted with the local legends in such a 
 manner that the latter would have been likely to be 
 obscured by the greater popularity of the former, unless 
 
l66 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 kept fresh by actual residence in or near the places con- 
 cerned. In the Iliad, however, there is no conflict of this 
 nature between two sets of legends. At the most, there is a 
 distinction between Achaean and pre-Achaean dynasties. 
 And, further, the clear evidence for this distinction is 
 confined to the Catalogue of the Greek forces. It is only 
 the Catalogue, for example, that represents Agamemnon as 
 ruling directly over Corinth, and over Sicyon, 'where 
 Adrastus formerly reigned \' From the rest of the Iliad it 
 appears only that Agamemnon has the seat of his empire at 
 Mycenae, and exercises the authority of a suzerain over a 
 number of subordinate kings and chiefs. Apart from the 
 Catalogue, nothing in the Iliad is incompatible with the 
 supposition that the immediate ruler of Corinth, under the 
 emperor Agamemnon, was a king claiming descent from 
 Sisyphus, or of Sicyon, a king claiming descent from 
 Adrastus. But the Catalogue of the Greek forces was 
 unquestionally composed in Boeotia, long before it was 
 inserted in the Iliad. So far, then, as a distinction between 
 Achaean and pre-Achaean dynasties is clearly marked, it is 
 due to a poet who was certainly composing in Greece Proper. 
 The ar- 66. More force belongs (in my opinion) to another 
 
 ^m^^ head of argument used by Mr Monro, which concerns 
 
 Homeric inferences that may be drawn from Homeric silence, es- 
 silence. 
 
 1 //. 2. 572. The mention of Sisyphus is in //. 6. 153. — Other 
 instances are the following, (i) Diomede is king of Argos in the 
 Catalogue (2. 563). The reign of Proetus at Argos is alluded to in 
 6. 157. Sthenelus, son of Perseus, and Eurystheus, son of Sthenelus, 
 are referred to as kings of Argos in 19. 116 fif. (Dr Christ regards 19. 
 90 — 356 as a later interpolation.) (2) The Catalogue makes Thoas 
 leader of the Aetolians, — remarking that Oeneus and his sons were now 
 dead: 2. 638 ff. (3) The Catalogue mentions Eurytus as a former 
 king of Oechalia (2. 596), but represents the contingent from Oechalia 
 as led by the sons of Asclepius, — Podaleirius and Machaon (2. 732). — As 
 to Castor and Polydeuces, the Iliad simply notices the fact of their 
 having died (3. 237). Neither in it nor in the Odyssey (11. 299) do they 
 appear as representing a dynasty of kings, anterior to the Pelopid 
 dynasty which began with Menelaus. 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 167 
 
 . pecially on three points, (i) Several of the Ionian colonies 
 in Asia Minor claimed to have been founded by Neleidae, 
 descendants of the Homeric Nestor. These Neleidae, the 
 lonians said, had removed from Pylus to Athens. But the 
 Homeric poems nowhere connect Nestor's family with 
 Athens. If the Iliad had been shaped in the Ionian 
 colonies, the link between Pylus and Athens would probably 
 have been supplied, (ii) The name ' Ionian ' occurs once 
 (in the Iliad), and 'Dorian' once (in the Odyssey); the 
 name 'Aeolian ' is unknown to Homer. These tribal names 
 could hardly have failed to be more prominent if the poems 
 had arisen in Asia Minor, (iii) The Greek colonies in Asia 
 Minor are ignored by the Homeric poems. Even the 
 sequel of the Trojan war concerns European Greece alone. 
 No Homeric hero returns to AeoHs or Ionia. In one of 
 the Cyclic poems (the NoVtoi), on the other hand, Calchas 
 goes to Colophon. 
 
 67. What all this tends to show is, that the events, Infer- 
 persons and names of the Trojan legend had been fixed, ^^^~ 
 from a time before the Ionian emigration, in such a manner fixity of 
 that poets could no longer venture to innovate in any the//S^' 
 essential matter. Suppose, for instance, that a poet living 
 in Asia Minor wished to create Homeric honours for his 
 city or its founders. He could not do so, because every one 
 knew that the authentic Homer did not recognise that city 
 or those persons. 
 
 The question is, then, — Would this degree of fixity have 
 been already secured, if the Achaean legends had come to 
 Asia Minor, not yet in a matured epic form, but only in the 
 shape of comparatively rude Aeolian lays, which the Ionian 
 poets afterwards used as material ? 
 
 This is difficult to believe. It seems to me hardly 
 possible to explain the sustained resistance of the Homeric 
 legend to the intrusion of patriotic anachronisms except on 
 the supposition that its form had already been fixed, in the 
 greater lines, before it arrived in Ionia. And Dr Geddes 
 has shown very fully how strong are the marks of a Thessa- 
 
1 68 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 Thes- lian origin in certain parts of the Iliad. The area over 
 
 sahan which he traces them is that of Grote's ' Achilleid ' — books 
 
 marks 
 
 in the I, 8, and ii to 22. But it will be found, I think, that the 
 
 primary ^^.^^ within which such marks are clearest is the more 
 Ihad. 
 
 limited one of our 'primary Iliad,'' — books i, ii, and i6 
 
 to 2 2. 
 
 The 68. These conditions of the problem would be satisfied 
 
 primary ^^y ^ hypothesis which, if it cannot claim to be more, has at 
 
 perhaps least a considerable degree of probability in its favour. A 
 
 Thes- poet living in Northern Greece may have composed the 
 
 substance of the primary Iliad, — books i, ii, and those 
 
 parts of books i6 to 22 which are essential to the plan of 
 
 the epic. His work may have been done in the eleventh 
 
 century B.C. The epic would then be brought by emigrants 
 
 from Greece to Asia Minor with its form already fixed to an 
 
 extent which would exercise a general control over subsequent 
 
 enlargements. The silence of the Iliad on the points noticed 
 
 above would be explained. 
 
 The It is impossible to say with any exactness what would 
 
 dialect ]^2ive. been the complexion of the dialect used by a Thessalian 
 
 wards I- poet cif'c. iioo — looo B.C. But it is at least certain that it 
 
 omcised. ^Quld have had a large number of word-forms in common 
 
 with the Aeolic of the historical age, since Aeolic was the 
 
 most conservative of the dialects in regard to the oldest 
 
 forms of the language. The original, or Achaean, dialect of 
 
 the Iliad would in Ionia be gradually modified under loni- 
 
 cising influences, through Ionian poets who enlarged the 
 
 epic, and rhapsodes who recited it. It would thus by 
 
 degrees assume that aspect of a 'mixed dialect' — Ionic, but 
 
 with an Aeolic tinge — which it now presents, and which 
 
 suggested Tick's theory of a translation from Aeolic into 
 
 Ionic. 
 
 Ancient 69. Such a modification of dialect would not, however, 
 
 in an^ suffice to explain the behef, practically universal in ancient 
 
 Asiatic Greece, which associated 'Homer' with the western coasts 
 
 Homer, ^f ^gj^ Minor. This is a fact with which we have to reckon; 
 
 and it is one which the advocates of a European Homer 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 169 
 
 have often esteemed too lightly. The general belief of 
 ancient Greece has a significance which remains unimpaired 
 by the rejection of local legends connecting Homer with 
 particular cities. The case is not that of a chain which can 
 be no stronger than its weakest link. The general beHef 
 did not rest on the aggregate of local legends. Rather, the 
 several local claimants were emboldened to display their 
 usually slender credentials, because, while no one knew the 
 precise birth-place of Homer, most people were agreed that 
 he belonged to Asia Minor. We know, too, that, from 
 about 800 B.C., at least, Ionia was pre-eminently fertile in 
 epic poetry. It was also the mother-country of that poetry 
 which came next after the epic in order of development, 
 the elegiac and iambic. 
 
 70. The Asiatic claim to Homer seems, however, The Eu- 
 entirely compatible with the European origin of the Iliad. ^ope3,n 
 The earliest additions are probably represented, as we have be re- 
 seen, by the older parts of books 2 to 7. In these books con,"^f^ 
 
 •^ ^ ' with the 
 
 we can trace a personal knowledge of Asia Minor. It is in Asiatic. 
 
 them, too, that we meet with Sarpedon and Glaucus, the 
 
 leaders of the southern Lycians (cp. § 22), whose prominence 
 
 is probably due to the reputed lineage of some Ionian 
 
 houses. Book 12, again, shows local knowledge of Asia 
 
 Minor; Sarpedon and Glaucus figure in it; and it coheres 
 
 closely with books 13, 14, and 15. The older parts of 
 
 books 2 to 7, and 12 to 15, may have been added in Ionia 
 
 at a very early date. Books 8, 9, 23 (to v. 256), and 24 — 
 
 in parts of which Ionian traits occur — were also of Ionian 
 
 authorship, and can hardly be later than 850 — 800 B.a 
 
 Thus, while the primary Iliad was Thessalian, the 
 
 enlarged Iliad would have been known, from a high 
 
 antiquity, as Ionian. 
 
 71. In books 2 to 7 (excluding the Catalogue) at least Author- 
 two poets have wrought. In book 3 it is proposed to decide the ear- 
 the war by a combat of two heroes, which takes place, but }-^^ ^"" 
 is indecisive: book 7 repeats the incident, only with different ments. 
 
1 7© HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 persons. Both episodes cannot be due to the same hand, 
 and that in book 7 is probably the original. Can the earlier 
 poet of these books be the original poet of the primary Iliad^ 
 working under the influences of a new home in Ionia? It 
 is possible ; and the possibility must be estimated from an 
 ancient point of view: the ancient epic poet composed with 
 a view to recitation; only limited portions of his work could 
 be heard at a time; and he would feel free to add new 
 episodes, so long as they did not mar his general design. 
 But, though possible, it seems very improbable, if the primary 
 Iliad was indeed a product of Northern Greece. A poet 
 who had migrated thence would have been unhkely to show 
 such sympathy with Ionian life and tradition as can be traced 
 in the allusions and persons of these books. 
 
 With regard to books 12 to 15, many features of their 
 economy, as well as the pervading style and spirit, seem to 
 warrant the opinion that their author, or authors, though 
 highly gifted, had no hand in the primary Iliad. Whether 
 he, or they, bore any part in the composition of books 
 2 to 7, there is nothing to show. Judging by the evidence 
 of style and tone, I should say, probably not. We have 
 seen that books 8 and 9 may be assigned to a distinct 
 author, who probably composed also the older parts of 24, 
 and perhaps of 23. 
 Predo- 72. If, however, the primary Iliad is rightly ascribed to 
 
 minant qj^^ poet, the attempt to define the partnership of different 
 cance of hands in the enlargement has only a diminished interest; as 
 the first j|. (.^j^ have, at best, only a very indecisive result. However 
 eminent were the gifts of the enlargers, it is to the poet of 
 the primary Iliad^ if to any one, that the name of Homer 
 belongs, so far as that epic is concerned. It seems vain to 
 conjecture what relations existed between this first poet and 
 the enlargers of his work. There is no real evidence for a 
 clan or guild of 'Homeridae,' whom many critics (including 
 Dr Christ) have conceived as poets standing in some 
 peculiarly near relationship to Homer, and as, in a manner, 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 17I 
 
 the direct inheritors of his art, in contradistinction to later 
 and alien poets or rhapsodes who also contributed to the 
 Iliad. As to the original 'rhapsodies' or cantos in which 
 the poem was composed, every attempt to determine their 
 precise limits is (in my belief) foredoomed to failure. In 
 some particular instances the result may be accurate, or 
 nearly so. But a complete dissection of the Iliad into cantos 
 must always be largely guess-work. 
 
 73. The argument noticed above, derived from Homeric 
 silence regarding the Asiatic colonies and the tribal names, ^/^P^ 
 applies to the Odyssey no less than to the Iliad. From a Odyssey. 
 date prior to the settlement of the Asiatic colonies the f(3rm 
 
 of the story was probably so far fixed as to preclude such 
 references. 
 
 It appears probable that the original ' Return of Odysseus' 
 was a poem of small compass, composed, before the Ionian 
 migration, in Greece Proper, though not with any close 
 knowledge of Ithaca and the western coasts (cp. p. 44). 
 Having been brought to Ionia by the colonists, it was there 
 greatly enlarged. 
 
 74. The broad difference between the case of the Iliad Ionian 
 and that of the Odyssey may be expressed by saying that the ^i^velop- 
 latter, in its present form, is far more thoroughly and the 
 characteristically Ionian. One cause of this may be that P°^^^- 
 the original 'Return of Odysseus' — native to Greece Proper 
 
 — bore a much less important relation to the final Ionian 
 form of the poem than the primary Thessalian Iliad bore to 
 the Ionian enlargement. This, indeed, would almost follow 
 from the respective natures of the two themes, if the com- 
 pass of the primary Iliad ^2^% rightly indicated above (§ 57). 
 The original 'Return of Odysseus' secured fixity of general 
 conception sufficiently to exclude allusions to the Ionian 
 colonies, and the like. But it left a much larger scope for 
 expansion, under specially Ionian influences, than the 
 primary Iliad had left. The subject of the Odyssey was 
 essentially congenial to lonians, with their love of maritime 
 
172 HOMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 adventure, and their peculiar sympathy with the qualities 
 personified in the hero. The poem shows a familiar know- 
 ledge of Delos — the sacred island to which lonians annually 
 repaired for the festival of Apollo — and of the Asiatic coast 
 adjacent to Chios. Still more significant is the Ionian 
 impress which the Odyssey bears as a whole, — in the tone of 
 thought and feeling, in the glimpses of distant voyages, 
 and in the gentle graces of domestic life. 
 Author- 75. While few careful readers can doubt that the Odyssey, 
 
 ^ ^P* as it stands, has been put together by one man, there are 
 parts which more or less clearly reveal themselves as additions 
 to an earlier form of the poem: especially the 'Telemachy' 
 (books I — 4), the latter part of book 23 (from v. 297), and 
 book 24. I believe, with Kirchhofif, that the original 
 * Return' existed in an enlarged Ionian form, before the 
 present, or finally enlarged, form was given to it by another 
 and later Ionian hand. But I much doubt whether the 
 original limits of the 'Return', and of the first enlargement, 
 can now be determined. 
 Rela- 76. If any reliance can be placed on internal evidence, it 
 
 lions may be taken as certain that the poet of the primary Iliad 
 Iliad, had no share in the authorship of the Odyssey. The differ- 
 ences of style, versification, and spirit are not merely of a 
 nature which could be explained by difference of subject; 
 the more these differences are considered, the more con- 
 vincingly do they attest the workings of a diff"erent mind. 
 It is, however, quite possible, and not improbable, that 
 the Ionian poet (or poets) who enlarged the Odyssey had 
 a hand in the enlargement of the Iliad. But, though un- 
 mistakeable affinities of language and manner can be traced 
 between the Odyssey and later parts of the Iliad (especially 
 books 9 and 24), we still seem to be left without adequate 
 evidence on which to found a presumption of personal 
 identity. 
 Age of With regard to the age of the Odyssey, we may sup- 
 
 Odyssey. pose that the original 'Return' was composed in Greece 
 
CH. IV.] THE HOMERIC QUESTION. 1 73 
 
 Proper as early as the eleventh century B.C., and that the 
 first enlargement had been made before 850 B.C. The 
 Cyclic Little Iliad {circ. 700 B.C.) showed the influence of 
 the Odyssey ; but the only Cyclic poem which implies an 
 Odyssey complete in its present compass is the Telegonia, 
 which dated only from the earlier half of the sixth century 
 B.C. It cannot be shown, then, that Kirchhoff has gone too 
 low in assigning circ. 660 B.C. as the date of the second 
 enlargement. 
 
 77. In the foregoing pages the endeavour has been to Conclo- 
 present a connected view of the probabihties concerning ^^°"- 
 the Homeric question, as they now appear to me. That 
 view differs, as a whole, from any which (so far as I know) 
 has yet been stated, but harmonises several elements which 
 have been regarded as essential by others. Care has been 
 taken to distinguish at each step (as far as possible) between 
 what is reasonably certain, and what is only matter of 
 conjecture, recommended by a greater or less degree of 
 likelihood. The limits within which any definite solution 
 of the Homeric problem is possible have been more clearly 
 marked — as we have seen — by the labours of successive 
 scholars; and, with regard to these general Hmits, there 
 is now comparatively little divergence of opinion. But 
 the details of a question in which the individual literary 
 sense has so large a scope must continue to wear different 
 aspects for different minds. There is little prospect of 
 any general agreement as to what is exactly the best 
 mode of co-ordinating the generally accepted facts or 
 probabilities. Where certainty is unattainable, caution 
 might prescribe a merely negative attitude; but an ex- 
 plicit hypothesis, duly guarded, has at least the ad- 
 vantage of providing a basis for discussion. The reader 
 is induced to consider how far he agrees, or dissents, and 
 so to think for himself It is possible that the progress 
 of Homeric study may yet throw some further light oii 
 
f74 HOxMER. [CH. IV. 
 
 matters which are now obscure. The best hope of such 
 a gain depends on the continued examination of the 
 Homeric text itself, in regard to contents, language, and 
 style. 
 
 i 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 Note i, p. 6i. 
 
 THE HOUSE AT TIRYNS. 
 
 The ancient fortress of Tiryns stood in the S. E. corner of the plain of 
 Argos, about f of a mile from the shores of the Gulf. It was built on 
 a limestone rock, which forms a ridge measuring about 328 yards from 
 N. to S.s with an average breadth of about 109 yards. The upper part 
 of the citadel was at the southern end, where the rock is highest. The 
 lower citadel was at the northern end. The upper and lower citadels 
 were separated by a section of the rocky plateau to which stairs led 
 down from the upper citadel, and which has been designated as the 
 middle citadel. 
 
 The excavations of Dr Schliemann have been confined to the upper 
 and the middle citadel. The exploration of the site thus remains in- 
 complete. The lower citadel still awaits an explorer. In the opinion 
 of some who can judge, an excavation of the lower citadel would 
 probably reveal the existence of chambers at a greater depth than has 
 yet been reached. Every one must share the hope expressed by the 
 correspondent of the Times (April 24, 1886), that this task may some 
 day be undertaken. It is in the lower citadel, as the same writer 
 observes, that the true key to the archaic history of the site may 
 possibly be found. 
 
 The only Homeric mention of Tiryns is in the Catalogue of the 
 Greek forces, which, as we have seen (p. 42), was mainly the work 
 of a Boeotian poet. He is enumerating the cities whose men were 
 led by Diomede and Sthenelus (//. 2. 559) : — 
 
 ol 5' "Apyos T elxov TlpwOd re Tecx'.deacrau. 
 
 The whole citadel of Tiiyns is still encompassed by those massive 
 walls to which the epithet refers. They are formed of huge irregular 
 blocks of limestone, piled on one another, the interstices being filled 
 with small stones. It had always been supposed that, in such 
 'Cyclopean' walls the stones were unhewn, and were not bound by 
 
176 
 
 HOMER. 
 
 mortar, being kept in position simply by their great weight. In both 
 particulars the general belief has been corrected by the recent ex- 
 amination of the walls at Tiryns. It now appears that almost ail the 
 stones, before being used, had been wrought with a pick-hammer .on 
 one or several faces, and thus roughly dressed ; also that, as Dr F. 
 Adler had surmised, a clay mortar had been used for bonding. 
 
 The remains of a Byzantine Church, and of some Byzantine tombs, 
 exist at the S. end of the plateau of the upper citadel. At his earlier 
 visit to Tiryns, Dr Schliemann was disposed to think, from indications 
 on the surface, that the other remains, which he has since laid bare, 
 must be also Byzantine. These consist of house-walls, which now 
 stand nowhere more than about a yard above the ground, while in 
 some parts the destruction has been complete. From these remains, 
 Dr Dorpfeld, the architect employed by Dr Schliemann, has restored 
 the ground-plan of the original house, as shown in the accompanying 
 sketch. Dr Dorpfeld supposes the house to have been built by 
 
 The house at Tiryns. 
 
 Phoenicians, about iioo B.C., or earlier. Mr J. C. Penrose formerly 
 urged several objections to so early a date. The substance of his argu- 
 ment was reported in the Times of July 1, 1886, from which extracts 
 were here cited in the previous editions of this book. The points on 
 which he dwelt were chiefly three :— (i) 'A fundamental difference in 
 character of work' between the 'so-called palace at Tiryns' and the 
 
APPENDIX. 177 
 
 really prehistoric work at Mycenae, such as the 'Treasury of Athens' 
 and the Gate of Lions. {2) Traces of the stone-saw ' all over the 
 newly-discovered remains.' (3) The presence of baked bricks, which, 
 ' in the opinion of an experienced brickmaker,' could not have been 
 brought into that state simply by a fire in which the house was burned 
 down, if they had originally been raw bricks — as they ought to have 
 been, on the prehistoric hypothesis. But Mr Penrose has since revisited 
 the remains, under the guidance of Dr Dorpfeld, and has waived these 
 objections [Athenaeum, Nov. ii, 1887). The advocates of a ' pre- 
 historic' date are fully entitled to all the benefit of such a recantation. 
 If the question as to the age of the remains is ever to be settled, it can 
 only be settled by persons specially versed in ancient wall-building. 
 But the impression left on most minds by the discussion, so far as it has 
 yet gone, will be that there is ample room for disagreement, even among 
 the most skilful. The architectural evidence is not only scanty, but is 
 disastrously confused by the presence of 'some walls' (to quote Mr 
 Penrose's most recent opinion) ' clearly of later date, which interfere 
 with the proper ground-plan.' The latest utterance of an expert is 
 Mr Stillman's {Times, Jan. 9, 1888), who refers to the arguments for a 
 Byzantine date. 
 
 It is perhaps hardly necessary for the present writer to observe that 
 he has never advanced any opinion whatever on this architectural ques- 
 tion, as to the age of the remains at Tiryns. For the purpose of this 
 Note, it is immaterial whether the older house-walls at Tiryns are 
 Phoenician, of iioo B.C., or Greek, of any period. The question 
 with which this Note deals is solely the relation of the remains at 
 Tiryns to Homeric evidence. 
 
 It is afiirmed by Dr Schliemann and Dr Dorpfeld that the houses 
 of the Homeric age, so far as they are known from Homer, were 
 on the same general plan as the house at Tiryns. Now, the 
 house of Odysseus in the Odyssey is the only Homeric house con- 
 cerning which we have data of a kind which enables us to form 
 a tolerably complete idea of the interior arrangements. Confirmatory 
 evidence on some points, and additional light on others, may be 
 gathered from the houses of Menelaus and Alcinous. These houses 
 appear to represent the same general ground-plan. But the house of 
 Odysseus is not merely described in more detail than the others. It 
 happens also to be the scene of an elaborate domestic drama, occupying; 
 several books of the Odyssey. We have thus a searching test by which 
 to try the correctness of any notions which we may have formed as to 
 the plan of that house. The true plan must be such as to make the 
 house a possible theatre for that drama. 
 
 Let the matter at issue be distinctly understood, since some 
 confusion about it is traceable in Dr Schliemann's book Tiryns, as well 
 
 J. 12 
 
178 HOMER. 
 
 as in the utterances of those who maintain his theory. If the Homeric 
 indications do not agree with the house at Tiryns, that fact does not, of 
 itself, prove that the house is not of the Homeric (or pre-Homeric) age. 
 No one would contend that all the houses of that age must have been 
 built on exactly the same plan. But in Tiryns (p. 227) appeal is made 
 specifically to the house of Odysseus. It is argued that the plan of that 
 house was in general agreement with the plan found at Tiryns, and 
 that the drama enacted in it could have been enacted at Tiryns. 
 
 Now, the evidence of the Odyssey proves that the poet had in his 
 mind a house of an entirely different kind from the house at Tiryns. 
 The difference is not merely a variation of detail. It is a difference of 
 type. 
 
 Dr Dorpfeld speaks with acknowledged weight when he speaks as 
 an architect on a question of ancient architecture. But the attempt to 
 dispose of the literary evidence of the Odyssey to which he devotes 
 a few lines at p. 227 of Tiryns is grotesquely superficial. It could not 
 have been offered, or accepted, by any one who had even a rudimentary 
 idea of what is meant by an adequate examination of literary evidence. 
 He notices only five verses in the whole epic. Of these five verses, 
 four (i. 333, 16. 415, 18. 209, 21. 64) are simply the oft-repeated 
 
 GTy] pa irapa aradixhv riyeos irvKa irotrjTolo. 
 On this, he merely asserts, without attempting to prove, that the door 
 at the iower end of the hall is intended. The other verse (since he 
 thus has really only two) is 21. 236, where, before the slaying of the 
 suitors, Eurycleia is commanded 
 
 KKyjlaai fieydpoio 6vpas irvKLvm dpapvias. 
 On this, he remarks that there is nothing to show that these doors 
 opened on the hall; and that the object of closing them was, ' not to 
 keep the suitors from escaping, but to keep the women undisturbed 
 within.' 
 
 In a foot-note on the same page (227) another passage is adduced 
 from Od. 6. 50 fF., where it is said that Nausicaa, after finding her 
 mother at the hearth, met with {^vfi^\r]To) her father as he was going 
 forth to the council. This argument assumes that the hearth at which 
 Nausicaa found her mother was in the women's apartments, and that, as 
 Nausicaa, coming thence, 'met' her father leaving the house, she 
 entered the hall by the door from the court. The answer is furnished 
 by Od. 7. 139 ff. We find Arete and Alcinous sitting together in the 
 men's hall near the iaxo-pa at its upper end, — where Penelope also sits 
 in 20. 55, and where Helen joins Menelaus (4. 121). Nausicaa, on 
 awaking, wishes to tell her dream to her parents. She goes 8ia 
 Sco/xara, 'through the house,' from her own bed-chamber in the women's 
 apartments, to the men's hall, — the door between them being open. In 
 the hall she finds her mother. Her father she found, we may suppose, 
 
APPENDIX. 179 
 
 in the prodomus or in the aul^, * about to go forth.' We cannot press 
 ^vfjL^X-qTQ as if it necessarily implied that the two persons were moving 
 in exactly contrary directions. It means simply 'fell in with,' 'chanced 
 to find.' 
 
 The evidence of the Odyssey on this question is not to be gauged by 
 three phrases isolated from their context, and interpreted in a fashion 
 at once dogmatic and unsound. It must be tested by a close and 
 consecutive examination of the whole story, so far as it can illustrate 
 the plan of the house. Such an examination I have attempted to make 
 in the Journal of Hellenic Shtdies, vol. VII. p. 170 ('The Homeric 
 House in relation to the Remains at Tiryns'). 
 
 Reference to the accompanying plan will show that the house at 
 Tiryns has certain general features in common with the Homeric house. 
 The Homeric irpodvpou, or front gateway of the court, is represented at 
 Tiryns by a propylaeum, — a kind of gateway formed by placing two 
 porticoes back to back, — which in Greece had not hitherto been found 
 before the 5th century B.C. At Tiryns we have also a court-yard [avX-n) — 
 called the 'Men's Fore-Court' in the plan — with porticoes {aWovaai). 
 The prodomus, however, is not, at Tiryns, the space covered by the 
 aWovcra, or portico, but a distinct room beyond it (called 'Vestibule' in 
 the plan). Then there is the great hall,— the 'Men's Megaron' in the 
 plan. So far there is a resemblance, though only of the most general 
 kind. 
 
 But we now come to a difference much more striking and essential 
 than the points of likeness. At Tiryns the men's hall has no outlet 
 except the door by which it is entered from the 'Vestibule.' The 
 women's apartments are identified with a second and smaller hall, 
 completely isolated from the other, which has its own vestibule, its own 
 court, and its own egress. 
 
 There is nothing whatever to show that this smaller hall and 
 court really belonged to women. The more reasonable supposition 
 would be that they belonged to a second and smaller house, dis- 
 tinct from the larger house. The arbitrary manner in which such 
 theories can be formed or changed is curiously illustrated at p. 224 of 
 Tiryns. At Hissarlik in the Troad, as at Tiryns, there are the remains 
 of two buildings, a larger and a smaller, side by side. After pro- 
 pounding other views about them, Dr Schliemann had decided in 
 Troja that they were to be temples. But, because the smaller court 
 at Tiryns is to be the women's court, Dr Dorpfeld now says that the 
 larger building at Hissarlik was a dwelling for men, and the smaller 
 building beside it a dwelling for women. He doubts, however, 
 whether the smaller building at Hissarlik was not 'a smaller men's 
 house' (p. 224). Why, then, should not the smaller court at Tiryns be 
 a smaller men's court? 
 
 12 2 
 
l8o HOMER. 
 
 From the men's hall at Tiryns to the so-called women's hall the 
 only modes of access were by very circuitous and intricate routes. 
 They are thus described by Dr Dorpfeld {Tiryns, p. 236) : — 'In the 
 north-west part of the palace lies a small court, with colonnades and 
 adjoining rooms, which has no direct connection with the main court ; 
 it is the court of the women's dwelling. You must pass many doors 
 and corridors to reach this inner part of the palace. There appear to 
 have been three ways of reaching it. First, from the back-hall of the 
 great Propylaeum, through the long passage XXXVI., to the colonnade 
 XXXI. ; and from this, through the outer court XXX., to the east 
 colonnade of the women's court. Secondly, you could go from the 
 great court or from the megaron, past the bath-room, into corridor 
 XII., and then through passages XIV,, XV., and XIX., to reach the 
 vestibule of the women's apartments. A third way probably went from 
 the east colonnade of the great court, through room XXXIII. , into the 
 colonnade XXI., and then along the first way into the court of the 
 women's apartments. All these three approaches are stopped in 
 several places by doors, and the women's apartment was therefore quite 
 separated from the great hall of the men's court.' 
 
 The above three routes can readily be traced on our plan by 
 means of the Arabic numerals which I have placed to represent 
 Dr Dorpfeld's Roman numerals: — (i) for the first route, — 36, 31, 
 30: (2) for the second, 12, 14, 15, 19: (3) for the third, 33, 31, 30. 
 
 In the house of Odysseus, on the contrary, the women's apartments 
 were immediately behind the men's hall, and directly communicated 
 with it by a door. This is proved by many passages, among which are 
 the following, 
 
 I. In book 17 Odysseus comes to his house in the guise of 
 an aged beggar. Telemachus, to whom alone the secret is known, is 
 in the great hall with the suitors. Odysseus, with the humility proper 
 to his supposed quality, sits down 'on the threshold of ash, within the 
 doors' (17. 339): 
 
 r^e 5' kirX fxeXlvov ovdou iuroaOe dvpdwvy 
 
 i.e. at the lower end of the hall, on the threshold of the doorway 
 leading into it from the prodomus. The suitors who, with their retinue^ 
 numbered about a hundred and twenty, were feasting at a series of 
 small tables, which may be imagined as arranged in two rows from end 
 to end of the hall, leaving in the middle a free space in which the 
 twelve axes were afterwards set up. Telemachus sends food to Odysseus, 
 with a message that he should advance into the hall, and beg alms from 
 table to table among the suitors. Odysseus does so ; and, while he is 
 thus engaged, one of the suitors, Antinous, strikes him. Odysseus 
 then returns to his place on the ashen threshold. Meanwhile Penelope 
 
APPENDIX. i8t 
 
 is sitting among her handmaids in the women's apartments (17. 505), 
 She hears — doubtless through one of the women-servants — of the blow 
 dealt by Antinous to the humble stranger ; and she sends to the hall 
 for Eumaeus. When he comes, she desires him to go and bring the 
 mendicant into her presence. He delivers her message to Odysseus, 
 who is still seated on the ashen threshold. Odysseus replies that he 
 would gladly go to Penelope; 'but,' he adds, 'I somewhat fear the 
 
 throng of the froward wooers For even now, as I was going 
 
 through the hall, when yon man struck me, and pained me sore, — 
 though I had done no wrong, — neither Telemachus nor anyone else 
 came to my aid.' That is, he declines to go to Penelope, because, in 
 order to reach her apartments, he would have to pass up the hall, among 
 the suitors, one of whom had already insulted him. 
 
 2. The supposed mendicant is then accommodated for the night 
 with a rough ' shake-down ' in the prodomus — the fore-hall or vestibule 
 of the megaron. As he lies awake there, he observes some of the 
 handmaids pass forth from the men's hall (20. 6) : — 
 
 KeiT eypvifopowv rai 5* iK fieydpoLO yvva^Kei 
 rfCffav. 
 
 But, after escorting Penelope to the interview with the stranger in the 
 hall, they had returned to the women's apartments (19. 60). Thus 
 again it appears that the direct way from the women's apartments to 
 the court lay through the men's hall. 
 
 3. The next day, while the suitors are revelling in the hall, and 
 taunting Telemachus, Penelope is sitting, as before, in the women's 
 apartments. She is not in her own room on the upper storey, to which 
 she presently ascends (21. 5), but on the ground-floor, level with 
 the hall. She places her chair *over against' the hall (Kar avrrjanv, 
 20. 387), i.e. close to the wall dividing the hall from the women's 
 apartments; and thus 'she heard the words of each one of the men in 
 the hair (20. 389). Similarly in 17. 541, being in the women's apart- 
 ments, she heard Telemachus sneeze in the hall. Such incidents would 
 be impossible in a house of the type supposed at Tiryns. 
 
 4. In preparation for the slaying of the suitors, Odysseus and his 
 son decide to remove the arms from the hall, and to carry them to a 
 room in the inner part of the house. That such was the position of the 
 armoury is made certain by the phrases used with regard to it,— etVw 
 (19. 4), icr^opeov (19. 32), ^v5op (22. 140). But, before doing this, 
 Telemachus, in the hall, 'called forth' the nurse Eurycleia (19. 15), and 
 said to her: 'Shut up the women in their chambers, till I shall have 
 laid by in the armoury the goodly weapons of my father.' Thereupon 
 'she closed the doors of the chambers' {19. 30), and the removal of the 
 arms was effected. Whence was Eurycleia 'called forth' into the 
 
1 82 HOMER. 
 
 hall ? Evidently from the women's apartments immediately behind it, 
 as in the similar case at 21. 378. The doors which she closed were 
 those leading from the women's apartments into the hall. The arms 
 were then taken from the hall to the armoury by a side-passage (to be 
 noticed presently), which ran along the wall on the outside. 
 
 5. The threshold on which Odysseus first sat is called, as we have 
 seen, the threshold of ash {fi^Xcvos), and was at the lower end of the 
 hall (17. 339). Next day, Telemachus makes him sit down 'by the 
 sione threshold' {irapai, Xdl'uou ovdov, 20. 258), which was clearly at the 
 upper end of the hall. The stone threshold is that which Penelope 
 crosses in passing from the women's apartments to the hall (23. 88). 
 Odysseus is still sitting by the stone threshold, when Eumaeus comes to 
 his side, and calls forth Eurycleia from the women's apartments, — 
 another indication that the door opening upon those apartments was at 
 the upper end of the hall. 
 
 It has been suggested that we can obviate the difficulty of supposing 
 the women's apartments at Tiryns to have had no communication with 
 the men's except by circuitous routes, if we imagine that, in a side-wall 
 of the men's hall, on the right hand of a person entering it, there once 
 existed a side-door, raised some feet above the level of the floor, and no 
 longer traceable in the existing remains of the house- walls, which are 
 nowhere more than about a yard in height. Such a side-door is 
 mentioned in Od. 22. 126: dpaodOprj 8e rtj ^(xk€v evdixijTi^ in roixv^ 
 This opcroOvpT], or 'raised postern,' opened upon a passage [XaipT]), 
 which ran along the outside of the hall. (See the plan at p. 58.) 
 
 Let us suppose, then, that such an opaodiprj once existed at Tiryns, 
 though no trace of it is now visible. It would have necessarily been 
 the usual mode of access from the women's to the men's hall, as being, 
 at Tiryns, the only one which was not extremely circuitous. To it, 
 therefore, we should have to refer the often-repeated phrase concerning 
 Penelope as she enters the men's hall from the women's apartments : 
 aT7) pa rrapa, araOixov reyeos iruKa TrocrjTolo (i. 333, etc.). But this phrase, 
 'she stood by the door-post of the hall,' must refer to one of the 
 principal entrances to the hall. It is manifestly quite inapplicable to 
 a small raised postern in a side-wall. 
 
 Moreover, the hypothesis of an dpaodvprj at Tiryns leaves a whole 
 series of difficulties untouched. The following are some of them, — 
 the first three turning on passages noticed above. 
 
 (i) Odysseus, being at the lower end of the hall, refuses to go to 
 the women's rooms because he would have to pass up the hall among 
 the suitors. At Tiryns he would only have had to turn his back upon 
 the suitors, and to leave the hall. 
 
 (2) The women, coming from their own sleeping-rooms at night, 
 issue from the men's hall, and pass by Odysseus sleeping in the pro- 
 
APPENDIX. 183 
 
 domus. At Tiryns they would have gone out by the separate approach 
 to their own court. They could not have passed through the men's 
 hall, or its prodomus. 
 
 (3) Eumaeus, when at the upper end of the hall, is in the right 
 position to call forth Eurycleia from the women's apartments, and to 
 charge her privily to close them. At Tiryns, even with the hypothetical 
 opaodvpt], this could not have so happened. 
 
 (4) After the slaying of the suitors, Telemachus, being in the 
 men's hall, calls forth Eurycleia by striking a closed door (22. 394). 
 Now, the opaodvpT) was at this time open {22, 333); so, also, was the 
 door at the lower end of the hall (22. 399). The door, leading to the 
 women's apartments, which Telemachus struck, must therefore be a 
 third door, distinct from both of these. It was the door at the upper 
 end of the hall, as the whole evidence of the Odyssey shows. In 
 the house at Tiryns it has no existence. 
 
 (5) In the house at Tiryns the armoury {BdXafios o-rrXwu) has to be 
 identified with one of the small rooms on the side of the women's hall 
 furthest from the men's hall. Such a position, — accessible from the 
 men's hall only by long and intricate routes, — is wholly irreconcileable 
 with that easy and swift access to the armoury which is required by the 
 narrative of the [x.vr}aT7]po({>ovla in book 22 of the Odyssey : see especially 
 vv. 106 — 112. 
 
 * A suggested restoration of the Great Hall in the Palace of Tiryns * 
 has been published by Prof. J. H. Middleton in the Journ. Hellen. 
 Studies, VII. 161. Some points in this call for notice, (i) In Od. 22. 
 142, — where the suitors, shut into the hall, are being shot down by 
 Odysseus from the threshold at its lower end, — the goat-herd Melanthius, 
 an ally of the suitors, contrives to escape from the hall, and to bring 
 armour for them from the armoury. The way in which Melanthius 
 left the hall is thus described : — 'he went up by the pc37es of the hall': — 
 
 ws eiTTWJ/ dve^aive MeXavdcos, aliroXos alyuu^ 
 es daXdpLOVs 'Odvayjos dvd pcu-yas fJLeydpoLO. 
 
 What the pQyes were, is doubtful : to me it seems most probable that 
 they were the narrow passages, reached from the hall by the dpaodvp-q, 
 by which one could pass round, outside the hall, into the back part of 
 the house, where the armouiy was. This was the view of Eustathius, 
 and it has recently been supported by Mr J. Protodikos, in his essay 
 De Aedibus Homericis (Leipsic, 1877). The Modern Greek jiovyay 
 'narrow passage,' is probably the Homeric pw^, puyo^, — <a having 
 become ov as in the Modern (TkovXIkl from (TkuXt]^, etc. ; and the old 
 noun of the 3rd decl, having given the stem for a new noun of the ist, 
 as in the Modern vvxra from j'iJ^, etc. Another suggested etymology 
 
184 HOMER. 
 
 ior povya, — from the low Latin ruga as = 'path', whence O. It. ruga 
 and Fr. rue (see Brachet s. v.), — fails to carry povya far enough back; 
 and the way in which the pi3ye^ are mentioned {Od. 22. 143) proves 
 that the word was in familiar use. Prof. Constantinides has given me 
 an illustration of the modern use which is curiously apposite. It is in a 
 folk-song from the country near Cyzicus. A monster is chasing a 
 princess : — 
 
 crroi)s dp6fiovs ttjv Kvvriyaye, 
 
 fih T7]v av\r] TT)v SiwxJ-et, 
 
 Koi ixh Tot^ poijyais raZs (xrevah 
 
 ToO TTaXarioO tt/Z' ^ddvei : 
 ■' he hunts her to the streets, he pursues her into the court, and in the 
 narrow passages of the palace he overtakes her.' 
 
 Prof. Middleton favours a different view. Dr Dorpfeld had sugges- 
 ted that over the four pillars of the hall at Tiryns there may have been 
 a lantern, serving for the escape of smoke from the hearth, as well as 
 for light. [The late Mr James Fergusson, who had suggested such 
 an arrangement in the case of the Parthenon, thought it improbable, on 
 account of the dimensions, at Tiryns; where he rather believed that 
 the hall had been lighted by vertical openings in the upper parts of the 
 side- walls : Tiryns, p. 218, n.] Prof. Middleton suggests that the pQiye'i 
 may have been windows in this lantern. He supposes that Melanthius 
 swarmed up one of the pillars in the hall, escaped by the windows on to 
 the roof, and thence descended by a stair to the armoury. But he has 
 overlooked some points in the Homeric story which appear conclusive 
 against this theory. The first exit of Melanthius — who goes twice to 
 the armoury — is not observed by Odysseus, or by any one of his three 
 supporters. This is an absurdity, if Melanthius had performed the feat 
 of climbing from the floor to the roof of the hall up one of the central 
 pillars, in full view of his alert adversaries. Further, Melanthius returns 
 from the armoury with twelve shields, twelve spears, and twelve 
 helmets (22. 144). His return is as unnoticed as his exit. But to 
 climb down the pillar, with the load just described, and yet entirely to 
 elude the observation of watchful enemies, would be a feat even more 
 remarkable than the furtive ascent. If the poJyes are to be lantern- 
 windows, some way, other than a pillar, must be shown by which they 
 could have been reached. (2) Prof. Middleton puts the 'stone threshold' 
 at the lower end of the hall (since he assumes that the hall had no door 
 at the upper end). He puts the threshold of ash in the prodomus. 
 But, on his view, the 6p(ro6vpt] in the side- wall was the 'direct communi- 
 cation between the Megaron of the men and the women's apartments * 
 (p. 167). Yet, in passing from the women's apartments to the men's 
 hall, Penelope crosses the stone threshold [Od, 23. 88). 
 
 All the Homeric evidence tends to show that the Homeric house is 
 
APPENDIX. 185 
 
 the prototype of the later Greek house of the historical age. A 
 dwelling on the supposed Tirynthian plan differs from this Greek type 
 in a vital respect. By placing the women in a practically separate 
 house, with a separate egress, it fails to provide for their seclusion in the 
 sense which ancient Greek feeling required. 
 
 The space which has here been given to this subject is amply 
 justified by its importance in two general aspects. First,— the in- 
 terpretation of the Odyssey is reduced to chaos, if these fragmentary 
 house-walls at Tiryns,— of doubtful age and origin, — are accepted as 
 at once sufficing to upset all the plainest evidence of the Homeric 
 text. Secondly, — this case is typical of a tendency which, in the 
 interests alike of archaeology and of scholarship, is to be deprecated. 
 No one questions the intrinsic interest and value of the Tiryns 
 remains, whatever may be their date or source. Nor is the classical 
 scholarship of the present day at all disposed to neglect the invaluable 
 light derived from classical archaeology. But when, as at Tiryns, it is 
 sought to bring monuments into relation with texts, then the difficulties 
 which those texts present should be either fairly answered or frankly 
 allowed. 
 
 Note 2, p. 136. 
 
 DIFFERENCES BETWEEN HOMERIC AND LATER CLASSICAL 
 GREEK. 
 
 The following synopsis exhibits the principal points of difference. 
 On the subject of this Note, as on those of Notes 3 and 4, students may 
 be referred for further illustrations to Mr. Monro's Grammar of the 
 Homer ic Dialect (Clarendon Press, 1882). 
 
 I. Forms of words. 
 I. The number of strong aorists in Homer is much larger than in 
 later Greek. (A ' strong ' aorist is one formed directly from the verbal 
 stem, as Aa/3oj' from \a^ : a 'weak' aorist is one formed with a suffix: 
 as ^Xv-aa. So in English 'took' is a strong tense: *loos-ed' is a 
 weak tense. ) ' Strong ' tenses are mostly formed in the vigorous 
 youth of a language : then it ceases to add to their number, or even 
 drops some of them out of use, and tends to multiply ' weak ' tenses. 
 Further, certain ^inds of strong aorist occur in Homer which afterwards 
 became extinct: viz., (i) the 2nd aor. midd. formed from the stem 
 without a connecting (or ' thematic ') vowel (like the in fka^-o-p, the 
 e in Aa/3-e-s), as aX-ro, ' leaped.' (ii) The reduplicated aor. act. and 
 midd., as 5i5a€v, XeXdjSeadai, of which ijyayov is the only Attic example. 
 
1 86 HOMER. 
 
 2. In post-Homeric Greek the vowels w and tj regularly mark 
 the subjunctive in all tenses. In Homer they mark it (chiefly in the 
 pres. subjunct.) only when the indicative has o or e. Thus Homer has 
 subj. ^Xwfiev, the indie, being etKo/xev : but subj. to/xev {'let us go'), the 
 indie, being ifj^ev. 
 
 3. In Homer, the perfect-stem (formed by reduplicating the verbal 
 stem) varies from long to short in different parts of the same perfect 
 (or pluperf.) tense: as dpajpei, ap7jp(t)s, but apapvia: Ted-qKei, but TedaKvta. 
 Here, as in the subjunct. with short vowel, Homer agrees with Vedic 
 Sanscrit. In Attic this variation is a rare exception, as in oT5-a, ta-jxev. 
 
 II. Syntax. 
 
 1. In Homer the Definite Article 6, ij, t6 most often occurs in the 
 substantival use, i.e.^ as an independent pronoun. Attic (except in a 
 few special usages, such as 6 fiiv...6 8i) has the attributive use, i.e., 
 the art. is joined to a noun. 
 
 2. Besides the particle of. Homer has also Kev, of which the mean- 
 ing is almost identical, the main differences being these: {a) Kev is 
 commoner than av, the ratio in the Iliad being about four to one. 
 {b) dv is preferred in negative clauses, [c] dv is rarely used with the rela- 
 tive (os, 6'rri, etc.), though often with temporal or final conjunctions 
 (Sre, 6(f)pa, etc), {d) while k€v is frequent in two or more clauses of one 
 sentence (as //. i. 324), dv is esp. used in the second clause (//. 19. 228). 
 Briefly, dv is preferred to nev where the sense is emphatic, or adversative. 
 
 3. T\\t. future indicative is used with dv or Kev. 
 
 4. The subjunctive is used with dv or k^v in simple sentences (//. 
 3. 54 oijK dv roi xpatV/i77, 'shall not avail thee '). 
 
 5. The subjunctive is used after el, not only with dv or Kev, but also 
 without it. 
 
 6. The subjunctive = an emphatic future in negative clauses (//. i. 
 262, ovZk tb(i}fiaL, nor shall I see) : and also in the phrase Kal Trori rts 
 etir-Qai {shall ssiy), II. 6. 459 etc. 
 
 7. The optative in a simple sentence, without dv or Kev, can express 
 possibility^ usu. in a negative sentence (//. 19. 321), but sometimes in an 
 affirmative {Od. 3. 231). 
 
 8. Homer uzes prepositions with the freedom of adverbs: separating 
 them {a) from the verb which they qualify ('tmesis'), or {b) from the 
 case which they govern. In later Greek this usage has much narrower 
 limits. This is another point of resemblance between Homeric language 
 and Sanscrit, in which prepositions never reached the stage of govern- 
 ing nouns. 
 
APPENDIX. 187 
 
 Note 3, p. 139. 
 
 DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE LANGUAGE OF THE ILIAD- 
 AND OF THE ODYSSEY, 
 
 I. Prepositions. 
 
 The following uses are found in the Odyssey, while they are either 
 absent from the Iliad, or occur only in certain later parts of it. 
 
 (i) d^t0i = ' about', with dat., after a verb o{ speaking or thinking: 
 4. 151 dfjL(p"05v(X7Ji I fjLvdeofjL-qu. 
 
 (2) vepi with gen., similarly : l. 135 irepl irarpos ipono. 
 
 (3) /Aerd with gen.= ' among ' or ' with ' : 10. 320 Ater dWuv \i^o 
 €Talp(av. (So twice in later parts oi Iliad, 21. 458, the deS>u /xaxv, and 
 24. 400.) 
 
 (4) iiri as = ' extending over' : i. 2gg iravras eV dpdpcairovs. (So 
 in //. 9, 10, 24.) 
 
 (5) Trpos with dat. = ' besides' ; 10. 6S irpbs roia-i. 
 
 (6) dvd with gen. : 2. 416 dva. vrjos \ ^aivcj. 
 
 (7) /card with ace. 'on' (business, etc.): 3. 'J2 Kara 7rp7}^ii>. 
 
 (8) ei'^= 'among', with persons or abstract words: 2. 194 iv ird<n. 
 This occurs in //., but almost exclusively in 9, 10, 23, 24. 
 
 (9) e/c = 'in consequence of : 3. 135 mvlos i^ oXorjs. (So in //. 9. 
 566.) 
 
 II. Article, 
 
 The substantival use of the art. is more frequent in Homer than 
 the attributive (see Note 2). But certain special forms of the attributive 
 use are clearly more frequent in //. than in Od., or vice versa. Thus : 
 
 (i) The co7itrasting \xs,Q. is more frequent in //., as 2. 217 (poiXKos ^■t)v, 
 XwXos 5' 'irepov iroba, tio 84 oi w/*w, 'but then his shoulders' — where rw 
 contrasts them with the other members. 
 
 (ii) The defining use, often with a hostile or scornful tone (cp. iste), 
 is more frequent in Od. : as 12. 113 ttjV 6\or]j/...Xdpv^dLv, '■that dire 
 Charybdis': 18. mifTovrov rhv auaXrov, 'this man — insatiate that he 
 is.' 
 
 III. Pronouns. 
 
 (i) The strictly reflexive use of io is more frequent in //. than in 
 Od., in a ratio of more than 2:1. 
 
 (2) rii as a relative pron., in the adverbial sense ' wherefore', often 
 occurs in //. (as 3. 176), but only once in Od. (8. 332). 
 
 (3) OS is sometimes demonstrative in //. : never in Od. : unless in 
 4. 388, a doubtful example. 
 
1 88 HOMER. 
 
 IV. Conjunctions, pariicles, adverbs, etc. 
 ( i) oTi= ' that' is commoner in //. than in Od., which prefers ws or 
 oi/Ve/ca. 
 
 (2) ou;'e/ca as = ' that ' occurs several times after verbs of ' saying', 
 ptc, in Od., but only once in //. (ri. 21). 
 
 (3) The combination ii.hv ovv, marking a transition, is character- 
 istic of the Odyssey (vi^ith //. 9. 550). 
 
 (4) ovhkv in //. is usu. adv., 'not at all', or subst., 'nothing': 
 dn Od. it is also an adj. [pvhkv iiros, 4. 350 etc.), and so once in //. 10. 
 r2i6. (//. 24. 370 is not a clear instance.) 
 
 V. Dependent clauses. 
 
 (i) Final relative clauses as Od. 10. 538 [xavris AeucreTai...os Kh 
 rot eiirrjcri. Such clauses are decidedly more frequent in Od. than in //. 
 Of 24 examples brought by Delbriick {Synt. Forsch. i. 130-2), 17 are 
 from the Odyssey. 
 
 (2) Object clauses vi^ith el after verbs of telling, knowing, seeing, 
 thinking etc. : as Od. 12. 112 iviaTres \ €tTr(>}s...v7r€KTrpo(pvyoLfxi. This is 
 frequent in Od.^ but extremely rare in //. 
 
 Note 4, p. 140. 
 
 HOMERIC WORDS WHICH SHOW TRACES OF THE DIGAMMA. 
 
 (i) The following words, as used in Homeric verse, show traces of 
 ■a lost initial f. The effect of / appears either in warranting hiatus or 
 in making position (see p. 141). In almost all these words, however, 
 the Homeric observance of / is more or less inconstant. As regards 
 most of them, the / is attested, independently of metre, by the corre- 
 sponding forms in other languages. But it will be seen that an 
 asterisk is prefixed to a few words in the list. This means that, in 
 their case, such confirmatory evidence is either wanting or doubtful, and 
 that metre affords the principal (or the only) ground for supposing that 
 they once began with f. 
 
 dyvvfu, to break. — aXts (rt. Fek, to press), enough. — avat,, lord, auaacra, 
 avaacruv. — *apaL6s, thin. — apva, dpves, etc., lamb. [In Od. 9. 444, how- 
 ever, dpveios, a young ram, h.a.s no /.] — dcTTv, town. Sanscr. vdstu. — 'iap, 
 spring. Lat. ver. — ei'/coo-t, twenty. Lat. viginti. — ei'Xw (/eX), to press, 
 ^Xcrat, dXet's, h\[xhos: with the cognate oXdvac (cp. e-oKiav). — elKvo} 
 (/eX, perh. distinct from the last), to wrap round; €l\v<pd^oj, to roll ; 
 with the cognate k\l<j<jia, to wind; 'i\i^, spiral. — dpyw {fepy), to keep 
 vff. dp(x} {fep), to say, fut. ipio). Cp. Lat. ver-bum, Eng. word. — 
 ivfVfXL [fes), to clothe; dfia, iad-^s. Lat. ves-tis. — ?7ros (/ctt), 7vord ; eiireTp; 
 
 I 
 
APPENDIX. 189 
 
 6\}/, voice. Cp. Lat. vox. — ^pyov, work; ^pSw. Cp. Eng. work. — epivw^ 
 to draw, ^ppw, to go away. Cp. dird-epcre, tore away, and Lat. verro. — 
 '^(Tirepos, evening. Lat. vesper. — ^os, year. Cp. Lat. vetus.—*7jvof, 
 gleaming.— 7)pa in evrt rjpa <p4peiv, to gratify. Cp. Sanscrit rt. var, *to 
 choose'; Zend vara, 'wish', 'gift': Curtius Etyni. § 659. — *r]piov, a 
 barrow. II. 23. 126.— tax^, /^ <:/7 a/o«,^, iaxh-, "hxh- (For ai^t'axos, see 
 Note on Homeric Versification, § viii.)— ZSei;/, olSa, e?5os. Lat. z/zV.?^, 
 Eng. wit. — *"IXtos. 50 instances make for Fi\io's, and 14 against it. — 
 Uv, violet, loeis, iodvecph. Lat. viola. — *''Ipis and Upos (connected with 
 efpw?). — h, sinew, strength, Ives, l(pL, t(pia. Lat. vis. — t<ros, eqtcal. — 
 Itvs, felloe of a wheel. — Irkii], willow. Cp. Lat. vimen, vitis: Eng. withe. 
 — oIkos, house. Lat. vicus : Eng. -wick in Berwick, etc. — ohos, ivine. 
 Lat. vinum. Eng. ww^. — ovXafibs, press of battle {fe\). 
 
 Words which once began with /sometimes have e prefixed to them 
 in Homer: as e-A5w/j, wish (/eXS): i-elKocri: e-^pyet: i-^. And the 
 syllabic augment or reduplication can be prefixed as if /remained : i-dyr), 
 e-A7rero, ^-ot/ca, i-eXfjLevos, etc. 
 
 (2) The following words originally began with erf. The rough 
 breathing represents the original a. If, as is probable, the a had 
 already been lost in Ionic at a time when the sound / was still used, 
 the initial sound of such words would then have been 'f, like Eng. wh. 
 For example, there would have been a period when the word originally 
 pronounced swandano, and afterwards handano, would have been 
 whandano {'/avddvoo). 
 
 dpdavd) {afad), to please, Homeric aor. eiabov { = ^fa8ov), perf. part. 
 ed8u)s : rjdvs. Lat. snavis. — e8va, a wooer's gifts, is prob. from the same 
 rt. — kKvpb% {(xfeKvp), father-ifi-law. Lat. socer (where j<? = orig. sva, as 
 in somnus, = Sanscr. svdpnas) : cp. Germ. Schwiegervater. — ?o, ey, ov, 
 of, k, pron. 3rd pers. sing., with possessive eos, 0%. Sanscr. rt. sva: Lat. 
 sui, suns. This pron. is the only Homeric word in which / lengthens 
 a preceding short syllable which has not ictus: as //. 9. 377 ipp^rcj' \ 
 €K yap I ei; (pp4vas etXero k.t.X. ^^, six. (Primitive form, svaks: Curt. 
 
 § 584-) 
 
 The aspirate has been lost in i^Oea, from rt. a fed. Cp. Sanscr. svadhd, 
 'one's own doing': from sva comes also Lat. sue-sco. — iOiav and efw^a 
 have no /in Horn. — Wvea, which also takes /, is perh. akin to ^do%, 
 7]6os. — A similar instance is prob. ^ttjs, companion {afi-r-qs, 'one's own 
 man '). 
 
 (3) Initial 5/t. — Be^crai, to fear, Mos, &6tv6s, SetXo's show the original 
 5/1 by often lengthening a short vowel before them. So also drju, for 
 a lo7ig while, drjpov, 5r)6d. Curtius, with Benfey and Leo Meyer, regards 
 8fr}v, 8fav as shortened from Sifav, accusative from stem 5i/a ' day '. 
 
 (4) Initial fp. — While initial p can represent an original ap (as in 
 fiku}), there are other instances in which t represents an original fp. 
 
igo HOMER. 
 
 Such are p^fw, to do, pty^u}, to shiver, peta, pia, easily; before which a 
 short vowel is sometimes, but not always, lengthened: priyvv/xi, to 
 break, piwTd), to throw, paKos, a rag; before which a short vowel 
 is always lengthened : piv6%, a hide, pita, a root ; before which it 
 is usually lengthened. 
 
 (5) Medial F. — The loss of F from the middle of a word is some- 
 times shown (a) by contraction, as eipvaa, I drew, = iFipvaa : KvKoipyov 
 = AvKo6pyov: (d) by synizesis, as TroX^as (a disyllabic) from -jroX^Fas. — 
 A lost / after a prep, in composition usually warrants hiatus, as 8ta- 
 ctTT^fxev: but there are exceptions, as direLir^fxev {Od. i. 91). 
 
 (6) Total disappearance of F. In some words, which certainly 
 once had initial /, Homeric metre shows no trace of the fact. These 
 words begin with 0, ov, or w. 
 
 bpao}, to see; ovpos, ovpevs, watcher ; 6pea6ai, to watch. Cp. Lat. 
 vereor: Germ, warten, wahren. — ^po%, moimtain. Cp. Bopias. Lat. 
 verr-uca, 'a wart', has been compared. — 'OpTvyir}, from Bprv^, 'a quail', 
 Sanscr. vartakas. — oxoi, oxea, chariot (cp. Lat. veho) ; b-xXi^w, to heave 
 zip (cp. Lat. vectis) ; hx^^^, to be vexed (cp. Lat. vehemens, vexo). — 6[i(pyj, 
 voice {Feir, vox). — ovXai, barley -groats, ovXox^Tai [FeX). — ovpavos, sky 
 (Sanscr. vdrunas, rt. var, 'to cover'). — ouraw, to wound; wreiXi; (cp. 
 a-ouTos = a/bi'Tos). — Lodiu, to push (Sanscr. rt. vadh, to strike: cp. l-wca 
 = ^Fw(Ta). — S>vo%, price (Sanscr. vasnds, Lat. ven-um, ven-eo, ven-do). 
 
 Note 5. 
 homeric versification. 
 
 The best treatment of the subject, for English students, will be 
 found in Prof Seymour's Homeric Language and Verse (Boston, 
 U. S. A., Ginn and Co., 1885). The scope of this Note is limited to 
 giving a short view of the most essential matters, in a form convenient 
 for reference. 
 
 I. Dactyls and spondees. 
 
 In the Iliad and Odyssey dactyls are about thrice as frequent as 
 spondees. This is one of the causes to which the Homeric hexameter 
 owes its rapidity, as the Virgilian hexameter often owes its peculiar 
 majesty to the larger spondaic element — a condition which the Latin 
 language imposed, and which Virgil treated with such consummate 
 skill. Verses in which every foot except the sixth is a dactyl {rov 
 5' d-rrafieL^ofieuos 7rpocri(pT] Trooas w/cus 'AxtWei^s) are far more frequent in 
 Homer than in Virgil. On the other hand, verses in which every foot 
 except the fifth is a spondee ( C/t belli signum Laurenti Turnus ab arce) 
 are much commoner in Virgil than in Homer. 
 
 i 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 I9T 
 
 Verses are technically called 'spondaic' {(riropdecd^ovTes arixoiy 
 CTvovdeLaKo. hrr}) when the fifth foot is a spondee, whether the first four 
 feet are purely spondaic, or not. About 4 verses in every 100 of 
 the I/iad are, in this limited sense, 'spondaic,' — a larger proportion 
 than is found in Latin poetry. One or two apparent instances, however, 
 break the rule that the hexameter must not end with two words, each 
 of which is a spondee : thus in Od. 9. 306, 7jc5 Slav, we should write 
 770a; and in Od. 14. 239, Stj/jlov (prffiis, dijfjLoo. Verses in which every 
 foot is a spondee are extremely rare : our texts have only three in each 
 epic (//. 2. 544, II. 130, 23. 221: Od. 15. 334, 21. 15, 22. 175, 
 repeated 192) ; and most, if not all, of these would admit a dactyl by 
 the restoration of uncontracted forms. In Latin, where the temptation 
 was stronger, there was a similar reluctance to imitate Ennius in his 
 o/li respondet rex Albai longai. 
 
 II. Caesura. 
 
 •Caesura' is the 'cutting' {roixri) of a metrical foot by the break 
 between two words; as in ixrivLv \ deide the dactyl is cut. Such a break 
 between words necessarily causes a slight pause of the voice; which 
 may, or may not, coincide with a pause in the sense. Hence the 
 phrase, 'caesural pause'; and the caesura itself is sometimes called 
 simply a 'pause'. 
 
 In every metrical foot there is one syllable on which the chief strength 
 of tone, or zc^us, falls. This is called the 'ictus-syllable'. It is the 
 first syllable in a dactyl (- ^ ^), and in a spondee (- -). It is also called 
 the arsis ('raising', as if the voice were raised on it); while the rest 
 of the foot is called the thesis ('lowering'). This is the current use of 
 the terms, derived from Roman writers. But the correct use — the old 
 Greek one — is exactly opposite : in it, dicns meant 'putting down the 
 foot', — hence the syllable marked by the beat or icfus: dpcns meant the 
 'lifting of the foot', — hence the syllable, or syllables, not so marked. 
 
 When caesura follows the ictus-syllable, it is called masculine, 
 because it gives a vigorous effect. When it comes between two 
 syllables, neither of which has ictus (such as the second and third 
 syllables of a dactyl), it x?, feminine. 
 
 The Homeric hexameter almost always has one or other of these 
 two caesuras in the third iooi: thus: — 
 
 (i) Masculine caesura. //. i. i fxrivLv d'etSe, 6e\ a, A Ht? [ \rjid5eu 
 'Axi\vos. This is also called rofiv ireudrjinifMepTis, 'penthemimeral', as 
 following the fifth half-foot of the verse. 
 
 (2) Feminine caesura. Od. i. i dvdpa fioi ^vvewe, \ Mouaa, A iroX | 
 vrpoirov, 6s jxaXa iroWa. This is described by Greek writers as the 
 roixi) Kara rplrov rpoxa'iov. It is decidedly commoner in Homer than 
 the masculine caesura of the third foot. The preference for it is shown 
 
192 HOMER. 
 
 bv the number of constant formulas, or 'tags,' which are adapted to it, 
 such as iraTTjp avdpQv re d€i2v re, dea yXavKUJiris 'Adrivr], etc. Those 
 adapted to the masculine caesura, such as 77777x0^6? rjd^ /j-edovres, are 
 fewer. 
 
 The principal pause of the verse must never come at the end of the 
 third foot. Thus such a verse as this is impossible : — Xtjtovs /cai Aios 
 l/ryovos* I (vs ^aaCkrn xo'Kcadeis. This would cut the hexameter into two 
 equal parts, and so destroy the rh}i:hm. But, when the principal 
 pause is not at the end of the third foot, a caesura in that foot is 
 sometimes, though very rarely, dispensed with. (The number of verses 
 with no caesura of the third foot is given by Seymour as 185 in the 
 I/ia^, and 71 in the Odyssey: p. 83, § 40 c.) It is less uncommon for 
 the third foot to end with a word when the caesura saves the 
 rhj'thm: as Tl. 3. 185 %vBa I5ov TrXelarovs ^pvyas \ dvepas. 
 
 The masculine caesura of the fourth foot is somewhat more frequent 
 in the UiaJ than in the Odyssey, and often follows the feminine caesura 
 of the third foot, as 77. i. 5 oluvouri re iracn' Atos 5' A eTeXeiero /SouXt;. 
 This is the to/xt, ecpdrjfiLfiep-QS, as following the seventh half-foot of the 
 verse. 
 
 The feminine caesura of the fourth foot is avoided. Thus such a 
 verse as the following is very rare, — IZ. 23. 760 ayxi- fJ-aX, as ore ris re 
 yvvauKos A eij^uvoio. In II. 9. 394, where the MSS. have JlrfKets d-qv fiot 
 iireira ywaiKa A ya/MeaaeTcu avros, Aristarchus amended yafieaa-eraL into 
 76 fia.(T(jeTai, which avoids this TOfj.Tj vara reraprov rpoxcuov, since the 
 enclitic ye is considered as closely adhering to ywalKa. 
 
 III. T/u bucolic diaeresis. 
 
 As a metrical term, hic'ipe<jL% means that the end of a foot coincides 
 With the end of a word. \\Tien the end of the fourth foot coincides with 
 the end of a word, that is the dtaipeais (or 5i7ro5ta) ^ovko\i.ki], as being 
 a favourite rhythm \vith the bucolic, or pastoral, poets, such as Theo- 
 critus and Moschus. Thus in the Laviefit for Bion Moschus has this 
 diaeresis in 102 out of 128 verses. Many Homeric formulas (chiefly 
 designations of persons) are adapted to the bucolic diaeresis, — as $oi/3os 
 'AaroWwy, Sla dedojv, Urodeos <pu>5, etc. The fourth foot is in this case 
 much oftener a dactyl than a spondee. 
 
 IV. Hiattis. 
 
 Hiatus s the non-elision of a vowel or diphthong at the end of a 
 word, when the next word begins with a vowel or diphthong. It is 
 allowed in Homeric verse under the follo\ving conditions. 
 
 I. After the vowel i, or u: //. 5. 50 ^-/X^"'' o^'^otvTi.'. 6. 123 t/s 5^ 
 
 cv i(T<n. 
 
 ;. When a caesura comes between the words: //. i. 569 Kai 6' 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 193 
 
 aKiovaa Kad | tjctto A i | iri-yvaiixpaaa (pl\ov Krjp. The feminine caesura 
 of the third foot, as in this verse, is that which most frequently excuses 
 hiatvis. 
 
 3. After the first foot: //. i. 333 avrap 6 iyuu. This is rarer than 
 the next case. 
 
 4. Before the bucolic diaeresis: //. 5. 4S4 olov k i)k (pipoiev'Axaiol \ 
 7} Kev ayoieu. 
 
 5. When the vowel at the end of the first word is long, and belongs 
 to the ictus-syllable of a foot: //. 1. 418 ^irXeo' rc^ ae «:a«: | ^ aia-lji 
 riKov iu ixeyapoLffLv, 
 
 6. When a long vowel, or diphthong, is made short before the 
 following vowel or diphthong: //. i. 29 tt)v 5' eyui ov Xucw: ib. 28 
 piri vv TOL OX) xpo.'-<^P-V- Ii^ ■^^' 2. 87, ^Ouea elai could be brought under 
 this head, if Hartel's doubtful view were accepted, that the final a 
 of the Greek neuter plural was originally long. — Hiatus under this 
 condition is sometimes called 'weak' (or 'improper') hiatus. 
 
 V. LengtJiening of a short syllable. 
 
 A syllable which, according to ordinary rules, should be short 
 is often lengthened in Homeric verse. 
 
 1. This is sometimes due to the influence of a lost consonant, 
 viz. : — 
 
 {a) The diganima, f : //. 11. 793 irapeiinhv {irapfenrLcu). II. i. 
 70 5s 'p^T? {fydrj). In //. 24. 154 os d'^et, e'lcjs ksp aywv 'A^iX^t ireKaaarj, 
 the pronoun /e may have fallen out after os. The occurrence of eTret as 
 the first word of the hexameter (//. 22. 379, etc.) is perhaps traceable to 
 an original eTrfei (evri' + pron. stem sva). In //. 19. 35 the in aTroennbv 
 is perhaps due to a vocalisation of /"{aTroveciriLv): see under VIII. 
 
 (b) The spirant jod (/ sounded like our y): 11. 3. 230 Kp^reo-cri 
 ^e^s uls {yCoi). 
 
 [c] Initial a: II. i. 51 ^k\o% ix^irevK^ e^eirj {quasi crexeTrei/K^s, the 
 stem of ^w being cex)- So Od. 9. 74 o-yj/ex^s oXd {quasi crvaaex^s) . 
 
 {d) <yf, in the pronoun of the 3rd person: //. 20. 261 UtjXeldrjs 8^ 
 aaKos fJikv dirro 'io x^'-P^ '^^X^'-V {qii^asi afeo): 17. 196 6 5' dpa y iraLOl 
 67ra(T<T€u {quasi <jfQ>). 
 
 2. The metrical ictus is the most frequent cause for the Homeric 
 lengthening of a short syllable. But this general cause is often aided 
 by some further special cause. The instances in which ictus can be 
 pleaded may therefore be distinguished into groups. 
 
 (i) Thus there are instances in which — unless ictus is assumed as 
 the sole cause of the lengthening — the letter seems to be treated as 
 a double consonant: //. 12. 208 ai6\ov o<pLP. If the first syllable of 
 0011' were really short here, the hexameter would be of the kind which 
 Greek metrists called fidovpos, — of which specimens have been left in 
 J. 13 
 
lO-t 
 
 KOMEii 
 
 Gr«ek br Locssa (m tite Tjc- - 
 Svi:. is the iz.c£«i:5 saw. j>ou ^ 
 
 i iz. Lirfz. bv Terscitiiz.:^ 
 
 i^ rg. 4C« ir:c. :s j::sciDea ecvncvcci-rally ; cr. Zj;TTffvtf i^i::! the 
 aceii::. cc T-a«o«s, 'Iix\5r? crcci ic^-j/, Sicxi" k^X^^ Piad. oC vi. :_ -- -" 
 Xi'^-^tfl»«^ Aesci- S.ii/if^>t. 100.7" — ^> ^' 7- "9 Xicwaor t 
 
 Lr-Tl 10. 5^5 icrr? -; -; -■-- -"r - — ^ - -: ; _-> 
 
 fc»r T-rcaacx?- I: • -r^s 
 
 ■,:;vt A ^ -•;_..- e \ /it. F, 1^ cr 
 
 iI-TTijs : :b::s ir: r.'- 12. : - ' ~ ^■^tt-ius^ji^ tbe 
 
 i. j^ :ri«=jir!5» J J "^^eiu*. T!bs 
 
 
 ninrstT -txsdzsc 
 
 If acrxs s 20c zie sCiLe :.: 
 :ei. — ^iT- ;. u- Kit x.^^ £j~r. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 195 
 
 [Seymour suggests the influence of false analogy, through oV 'A^poStrr;, 
 etc.]—//. 4. 155 (etc.) (pi\e KaaiyuriTc. The i of <f)2\ac (aor. imperat. 
 midd., //. 5. 117), and i(pL\aTo {id. 61), maybe compared, but have 
 analogies which make them less remarkable. [Leaf on //.,/. <:., notes 
 that, if (piXos is for {<t)(P4-l\os, from stem c/e, szms, the contraction would 
 justify the lengthening.]—//. 9. 5 Bopi-qs Kal Zecpvpos (so again, but in 
 dative, //. 23. 193). It is simplest to regard Bop as lengthened by ictus, 
 and €7)$ as one syllable by synizesis. (Curtius supposed a pronunciation 
 Bopjrjs.) 
 
 VI. Shortening of a long syllable. 
 
 1. In Homeric, as in Attic, verse, a diphthong can be shortened 
 before a vowel following it in the same word: //. i. 489 5i07ei'?js IIt/X^os 
 vib%. Od. 7.312 Toros etbc otos ^aai. 20. 379 ifxivaXov. 
 
 2. There are a few instances in which a vowel remains short before 
 the double consonants f, ok : //. 2. 634 o'i re 'Lo.kwQov ^xo": ib. 824 
 oX hk Z^Xeiav 'ivaiov '. ib. 465 irpox^ouro liKa/j.dvdpiou (and so a before 
 '^Ka.p.avdpe, 21. 223): Od. 5. 237 'iireLra (XKeirapvov. Allowance must be 
 made for the greater freedom in the metrical treatment of proper 
 names which were indispensable to the poet ; and aKiirapvov might 
 then be excused by the analogy of "LKaaavbpo^. But it is also possible 
 that there were older alternative forms with a single consonant, as 
 Seymour suggests, comparing crKioua/jLaL, ddvaixaL : apuKpos, fxiKpos. He 
 illustrates a possible AolkvuBos by Aev^nnros for Ze6^LTnros in a Boeotian 
 inscription. [Remark how well this agrees with the Boeotian origin of 
 the ' Catalogue,' which furnishes both the examples of e before ^: see 
 above, p. 41.] He also notes, however, that ZaKvudos was current as a 
 Greek name for Saguntum, and that the Z, in this particular name, may 
 have been sounded like 2, when analogy might help to account for 
 the e before Z^Xeiav. 
 
 3. The short first syllable oi avbpoTrjTa {II. 16. 857, 22. 363, 24. 6) 
 is unexplained. The word is probably a corruption of some older word 
 equivalent to it in sense. 
 
 VII. Vowels of variable quantity. — Alternative forms. 
 
 Some vowels which, in later verse, were regularly short, are of 
 variable quantity in Homeric verse. When they are long, they 
 usually have ictus. But in many (at least) of these instances ictus 
 cannot be assumed as the only cause. Rather, as Seymour observes, 
 most of these vowels had originally been long, and were in process of 
 becoming short ; compare the Homeric Taos, /caXoj, (jiapos with the later 
 fa-OS, KoX6%, (pdpos.— So a in 'AttoXAwj', but a (with ictus) in 'AttoWuvos 
 {//. I. 14): 'Apes, "A-pes (5. 31): a in t'Xaos : fin lepos, lofxcu, KovLT),\n 
 
 13-2 
 
196 HOMER. 
 
 several verbs in -lo}, and comparatives in -iuiv : if in vdup, and in verbs 
 in -ijii}. The z of the name Sidotz is regularly long in later poetry, as in 
 Od. 4. 84 ^idovLovs: yet //. 23. 743 has ZtSoves. 
 
 Alter7iative forms. — The number of such forms has been noticed 
 above (p. 136) as characteristic of the Homeric dialect. They may be 
 roughly classified under two heads, as vocal and consonantal, [a) A 
 short vowel alternates with a long vowel or a diphthong: as ix)$, ^us: 
 ve6s,vTj6%\ Aiopvaos {Od. 11. 325), Aiuiwaos {//. 6. 135): v^os, veiaros: 
 7}iJL€wi>, rjixeLwv : ^ade-qs, ^adeirjs : oXoos, oXolos. So in verbal forms, 
 dyafiaL, dyalofxai: reXioj, reXeib}, etc. — A special cause of variety is 
 what is called * metathesis (shifting) of quantity,' when, the first of two 
 vowels having been shortened, the second is lengthened. Thus -do, in 
 the genitive, passes (through -770) into -ew (Arpeidao, 'ArpeiSew). 
 Similarly such a form as ar^wixev (2nd aor. subj. ia-Tr]/j.i) comes from 
 <TTT]o/xev. [d) A single consonant alternates with a double consonant : 
 'AxtXXei^s, 'Ax'Xet^s: 'Odvaaevs, 'Odvaevs: TpiKKri {II. 2. 729), TpiKrj (4. 
 202): ^/xeuai, ^fXfxeuaL: /xeaou, /xeaaou: ottojs, otttto;?, etc. 
 
 VIII. Synizesis. — Elision. — Apocope. 
 
 avui^crcs (a ' settling down ') means that two vowels collapse (as it 
 ■were) into one long sound, instead of either keeping their separate 
 metrical values, or coalescing into a diphthong. So in //. 3. 27, where 
 deoetdea is the last word of the verse, ea forms one syllable. Cp. //. i. 
 15 XP^'^^V ci''CL cK-qiTTpop: 2. 367 yvdoaeac 8': Od. i. 298 77 ovk dfeis 
 (first words of verse). In //. i. 340 el' vrore St; avTe (not 5* avre) is 
 thus justified. — Synizesis was probably less frequent in the original 
 Homeric text than it is in ours, owing to the use of some older forms 
 which were afterwards modified ; e.g.^ IlvXrjiddecx} {II. i. i) was doubt- 
 less W-rfK-qidhd . 
 
 Elision. The diphthong ai can be elided in the verbal endings 
 -;uat, -(^ai (except in the infin.), -rat, -adai. — There is only one instance 
 in which the -at of the nom. fem. plur. is elided, //. 11. 272 cos b^eC 
 ddvvai, and the verse is doubtful. — ol can be elided in /xoi, col [II. i. 170], 
 Tot. — Elision of datival t occurs, though rarely : //. 5. 5 dar^p dirwpLVi^. 
 — dvTL, irepl, tI, otl, to, irpo, are not elidea. 
 
 Apocope is the cutting off of a short final vowel before a consonant, 
 as //. I 8 Ti's T dp (r0we (for apa). So a/i {dvd) irediou, Kair (/caret) 
 Trediov, Kaaropvvcra {KaraaTopuvaa, II. 17. 32), Trap (Trapa) vr\(^v. In //. 
 I. 459 avipvaav probably comes from aVa/Vpucrai' by apocope (ai'/epucra:'), 
 assimilation {dffipvaav), and, finally, vocalisation of/ into i;: as in //. 
 13. 41 ai)iaxoi=a/i'axo<, or a + Ztax^/, {i.e. 'noiseless,' if the a be privative, 
 or 'with cries,' if it be copulative). Cp. /cai;d^ais = /faTa/a^ats {nardy- 
 VV/J.I.), Hes. 0pp. 666. — Besides the three prepositions just named, dird 
 
APPENDIX. 197 
 
 and vTTo in composition can suffer apocope: Od, 15. 83 aTTTe/x-^ei = 
 aTTOiriix^pei : II. 19. 80 vj3^d\\ei.v = VTroj3aX\€iu. Apocope was used 
 in the ordinary speech of some dialects (e.^. Her. i. 8, a,u^Jjaas). 
 
 A LIST OF Books on Homer. 
 
 The purpose of this list is not to give a full bibliography, even of 
 recent work. Its aim is to help the student by indicating the more 
 important books in each department, so that he may know, in outline, 
 what has been done for Homer up to the present time, and what are 
 the chief sources available for consultation. — Asterisks are prefixed to 
 a few books, which may be especially recommended to English students, 
 in sections I. HI. IV. V. 
 
 I. Editions and Co/nvieutaries. 
 
 This list will include the more noteworthy of the old editions; 
 because, even where they have been superseded in a critical sense, they 
 retain their historical interest as land-marks in the modern study of 
 Homer. 
 
 A line may conveniently be drawn between the editions before and 
 after 1788, when Villoison, in his Iliad, based on Venetus A, first 
 published the ancient scholia of that MS." 
 
 After a date, 'f.' denotes that the publication of the work was 
 continued in the following year ; ' ff.', in the following years. 
 
 1. Editions before 1788. — Editio princeps: Demetrius Chal- 
 condylas, Florence, 1488. — First Aldine edition, Venice, 1504: second, 
 1517.— Juntine edition, Florence, 1519.— Francini, Venice, 1537. — 
 Joachim Camerarius made the first modern essay in commenting on the 
 Iliad, 1538 ff. His complete commentary appeared at Frankfort, 
 1 584.— Turnebus, Iliad, Paris, 1554.— H. Stephanus, in Poetae 
 Graeci principes heroici, Paris, 1566.— Barnes, with scholia and notes, 
 Cambridge, 171 1. — Samuel Clarke, with notes and Latin version, 
 London 1729 ff.— Moor and Muirhead, Glasgow (Foulis Press), 1756 
 ff.— Ernesti, Leipsic, 1759 ff. 
 
 In connection with the earlier editions of Homer we should notice 
 the editio princeps of the Commentary of Eustathius (see p. 100), 
 published at Rome, 1542 ff. The latest ed. is that of G. Stallbaum, 
 Leipsic, 1825 ff. 
 
 2. Editions in and after 1788.— Villoison, Iliad, 'ad veteris Cod. 
 Veneti fidem recensita. Scholia in eam antiquissima ex eodem Cod. 
 aliisque nunc primum ed. cum asteriscis, obeliscis, aliisque signis 
 criticis.' Fol. Venice, 1788.— Wolf, Iliad, Halle, 1794. [The 
 
198 HOMER. 
 
 Prolegomena appeared in a separate vol., in the spring of 1795.] His 
 ed. of both //. and Od., in 4 vols., Leipsic, 1804 fif., embellished with 
 32 designs after Flaxman,— whose 64 plates had first appeared in 
 1795. — The Grenville Homer (edd. Randolph, Cleaver, Rogers) with 
 Person's collation of the Harleianus (see p. 10 1), Oxford, 1800. — 
 Heyne, Iliad, Leipsic, 1802 ff. — W. Dindorf and F. Franke, Leipsic, 
 1826 ff. — Spitzner, Iliad, Gotha, 1832 ff. — Immanuel Bekker, Iliad, 
 Berlin, 1843: both epics (2 vols.), Bonn, 1858. The first scientific 
 attempt to attain a pre-Alexandrine text. — Kirchhoff, Odyssey, Berlin, 
 1859 • ^'^^ ^^'J i879' With notes and essays illustrating his views 
 as to the origin of the epic. — La Roche, Odyssey, Leipsic, 1867 f. : 
 Iliad, 1873 ff. The apparatus criticus, though full, is not always 
 accurate: see D. B. Monro in Trans. Oxf, Philol. Soc, 1886 — 7, p. 32. 
 — Nauck, Berlin, 1874 ff. — Fick, the poems translated back into the 
 supposed original Aeolic, Odyssey Gottingen, 1883: Iliad, 1885 f. — 
 Hentze, text in Teubner's series, supplementing Dindorf, 1883. — Christ, 
 Iliad, with Prolegomena and critical notes, Munich, 1884. — Rzach, text 
 (with critical notes), Leipsic, 1886. 
 
 3. The interest of the editions above named is mainly (though not 
 exclusively) critical. The following editions may be mentioned as 
 valuable to students for the commentary which they supply, while at 
 the same time they also deal more or less with criticism of the text. 
 
 Heyne, Iliad (see above). — Nitzsch, Erkldrcnde Aninerkuiigcn zti 
 Homer's Odyssee, I — xii, Hanover, 1826 ff. — Nagelsbach, Aiimer- 
 kiingen ziir Ilias (bks. I, II to 483, and III), 3rd ed. revised by 
 Autenrieth, Nuremberg, 1864. — Hayman, Odyssey, 3 vols., London, 
 1866 ff. With marginal references, various readings, notes, and 
 appendices. — Paley, Iliad, 2 vols., London, 1866 ff. [A 2nd ed. of 
 vol. 11 has appeared.] With an Introduction to each vol., and 
 commentary. — *Merry and Riddell, Odyssey i — xil, Oxford, 1876. 
 With critical notes and commentary. Vol. ii (bks. xiii — xxiv) is in 
 preparation. — *Leaf, Hiad i — xii. With English notes [both critical 
 and exegetical] and Introduction. London, 1886. Vol. ll (bks. 
 xiii — XXIV) is in preparation. 
 
 4. School editions, with commentary. — German. — Iliad. — La 
 Roche, Berlin, 1870 ff. — Faesi and Franke, Berlin, 1871 ff. — Ameis 
 and Hentze, Leipsic, 1872 ff. — Diintzer, Schoningh., 1873 f. — Odyssey. 
 Faesi and Kayser, Berlin, 1871 ff. The latest ed. has been revised by 
 Hinrichs. — Ameis and Hentze, Leipsic, new ed. 1874 ff. — Diintzer, 
 Schoningh., new ed, 1875 f. — English. — Iliad. — Paley, London, 1867. — 
 * Monro, bks. i— xii, Oxford, 1884. — * Pratt and Leaf (bks. i, ix, XI, 
 XVI — xxiv), London, 1880.— Odyssey. * Merry, Oxford, new ed., 
 1884. — *J. E. B. Mayor, bks. ix — xii, London, 1873. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 199 
 
 II. Scholia, and Works bearing on the History of the Text. 
 
 Scholia on the Iliad. — W. Dindorf, Oxford, 1875 ff. Four vols. 
 have appeared. — Scholia on the Odyssey. — W. Dindorf, Oxford, 1855. 
 
 History of the text. — Lehrs, De Aristarchi Studiis Homericis, 
 Leipsic, 3rd ed., 18S2. — La Roche, Die homerische l^extkritik im 
 Alterihurn, Leipsic, 1866 [not always accurate in citing Ven. A, as 
 Monro shows: cp. above, p. 199, ]. 13]: Homerische Untersiichungeny 
 1869. — Romer, Die Werke der Aristarcheer im Cod. Venet. A., 
 Munich, 1875. — Ludwich, Arisiarchs Homerische Textkritik nach den 
 Fragmenten des Didymus, Leipsic, 1884 f. 
 
 IIL Language. 
 
 Buttmann, Lexilogus, 3rd Eng. ed., London, 1846. [Still valuable, 
 especially as a model of critical discussion, though liable to correction, 
 on some points, by later results in comparative philology.]— Bekker, 
 Homerische Blatter, Bonn, 1863, 1872. — Ahrens, Griechische Formen- 
 lehre des Homer. Dialektes, Gottingen, 2nd ed., 1869. — Delbriick, 
 Syntaktische Forschiingen, Halle, 187 1 ff. — Hartel, Homerische Studien^ 
 Vienna, 1871 ff. — Knos, De Digattimo Ho7Herico, Upsala, 1872 ff. — 
 Hinrichs, De Homericae Eloctitionis Vestigiis Aeolicis, Jena, 1875. — 
 Cobet, Homerica, in his Miscellanea Critica, pp. 225 — 437, Leyden, 
 1876. — * Monro, A Grammar of the Homeric Dialect, Oxford, 1884. — 
 * Seymour, Introduction to the Language and Verse of Homer, Boston, 
 U. S. A., 1885. 
 
 IV. Lexicons and Concordances. 
 
 Lexicons. — Crusius, Leipsic, 1856. English transl. by H. Smith, 
 ed. T. K. Arnold, London, new ed. 1871. — *Ebeling, ib., 1871 ff.— 
 *Autenrieth, ib., 1877. English transl., with additions and corrections, 
 by R. P. Keep, London, 1877. — Seller, ed. Capelle, ib., 1878. 
 
 Concordances. — Seber, Index Homericus, Oxford, 1780. [Still con- 
 venient, as containing both //. and Od. in one vol. It gives only the 
 number of the book and verse in which a word occurs, without quoting 
 the passage.] — * Prendergast, Iliad. (Every verse in which a given 
 word occurs is quoted in full under that word.) London (Longman), 
 1875. — *Dunbar, Odyssey. (On the same plan as the last.) Oxford, 
 1880. 
 
 V. Works illustrating the Antiquities of the Homeric Poems. 
 
 Bellum et excidium Troiamun ex Antiqq. reliquiis, tabula praesertim 
 quam Raph. Fabrettus edidit Iliaca, delin. et adi. in calce commentario 
 illustr. ad. Laur. Begero. Berlin, 1699 (Leipsic, Rud. Weigel). 58 
 copper-plates, with text. [The iabida Iliaca is a marble relief, inscribed 
 T/3wi/c6s (TTtJ/a^), now in the Capitoline Museum at Rome. The central 
 
200 HOMER. 
 
 subject is the destruction of Troy, while on either side are numerous 
 scenes from the ///Wand from other epics of the Trojan cycle. — The 
 work is perhaps of the ist cent. A.D.: see Bergk, Grk. Lit. I. 913-]— 
 Iliados picturae antiqtiae ex Codice Mediolanensi Bibliothecae Ambrosi- 
 anae. Rome, 1835. (Leipsic, Weigel.) This 'Codex Ambrosianus 
 pictus' was first pubhshed by Angelo Mai, Milan, 1819. — Inghirami, 
 Galleria Omerica. (A collection of ancient monuments illustrative of 
 Homer.) Florence, 1827 ff.— Volcker, Ueber Homer. Geographie und 
 Weltkunde. Hanover, 1830. — Gladstone, Shidies on Homcr^ London, 
 1858: Juventus Mundi, 1869. — ^iig^X'^-^zXi, Die Homerische Theologie, 
 Nuremberg, 1861.— Brunn, Die Kunst bei Homer, Munich, 1868.— 
 *Buchholz, Die homerische Realien, Leipsic, 1871 fif.—* Harrison, Miss 
 J. E., The Myths of the Odyssey, London, 1882.— Bunbury, History of 
 Ancient Geography, vol. I.ch. 3 ('Homeric Geography'), London, 1883. 
 — * Helbig, Das homerische Epos aus den Denktndlern erldutert. Leipsic, 
 1884. 
 
 VI. The Homeric Question. 
 
 Robert Wood, Essay on the Original Genius of Homer, London, 
 I'jSq.— V^oirs. Frolegotnena. Halle, 1795. — Volkmann, Geschichte und 
 Kritik der Wolfschen Prolegomena zii Horner. Leipsic, 1874. — Lach- 
 mann, Betrachtiingen iiber Homers Ilias. Berlin, 3rd ed. 1874. — Her- 
 mann, Dissertatio de Interpolationibus Homeri. In Opiisc. V. p. 52, 
 Leipsic, 1S34. Ueber Homer und Sappho, ib. VI. pars 1. p. 70, 1835. 
 De Iteratis apud Homsrum, ib. viii. p. 11, 1840. — Kochly, Iliadis 
 Carmina XVI. restituta. Turin, 1861. — Nitzsch, De Historia Homeri, 
 etc. (See above, p. 121, n. 3.) HanQver, 1830 ff. — Welcker, Der 
 epische Cyclus, Bonn, 1835 ff. — Gxot^ Hist, of Greece, Part I., ch. 
 XXI. (Vol. II., p. 160.) London, 1st ed., 1848: new ed., 1870. — 
 Friedlander, Die hojuerische Kritik von Wolf bis Grote. Berlin, 1853. 
 — \jmtx,Geschichtederhomerischen Poesie. Berlin, 1851. — Sengebusch, 
 two Dissertationes Homericae, in Dindorf's Homer (Teubner). Leipsic, 
 1855 f . : new ed., i873.-^aley, Introductions to Iliad (see under I.), 
 vol. I. pp. xi — li, 1866; vol. II. v — Iviii, 1871. See also his tract, 
 Homeri quae nunc exstant an reliqui cycli carminibus antiquiora iure 
 habita sint. London, 1878. — Nutzhorn, Die Entstehungsweise der 
 Homerischen Gedichte, Leipsic, 1869. [Originally in Danish: Copen- 
 hagen, 1863.] — Kirchhoff, Die Cornposition der Odyssee. Gesam?nelte 
 Aufsdtze. Berlin, 1869. [His Odyssey, 2nd ed. 1879, should also be 
 consulted.]— Geddes, The Problem of the Homeric Poems. Lortdon, 
 1878. — Fick's views are given in his Odyssey, 1883, and Iliad. {ist 
 half, 1885): see under I. — W. Christ, Prolegomena to the Iliad (see 
 under I.): 1884. — Wilamowitz, Homerische Untersuchu7igen. Berlin, 
 1884. — Leaf, Introduction to Iliad i— Xii (see under L), pp. xi — xxvi, 
 1886.— -Seeck, Die Quellen der Odyssee. Berlin, 1887. 
 
HOMER. 201 
 
 Histories of Greek Literature. — In regard to the Homeric question, 
 much that is valuable will be found in the work of Theodor Bergk, vol. 
 I., Berlin, 1872 : also in Bernhardy's History, vol. ii. part I. (3rd ed., 
 Halle, 1877). The chapters on Homer in Mure's work are interesting 
 as a defence, marked by much ability and freshness, of the old 
 conservative view (vols. i. ii., bk. ii., chaps, ii. — xvii., 2nd ed., London, 
 1854). 
 
 Vn. English Translations. 
 
 Verse. — Iliad. Chapman. — Pope. — Cowper. — Lord Derby. — 
 Cordery (with Greek text). — Way (i— xii, 1886). — Odyssey. Pope. — 
 Worsley and Conington. — Schomberg (Gen. G. A., 1879). — Way. — 
 Lord Carnarvon (i — xii, 18S6). 
 
 Prose. — Iliad. Lang, Leaf, and Myers. — Odyssey. Butcher and 
 Lang. — G. H. Palmer (i— xii, Boston, U.S.A., 18S4). 
 
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