Volume 3 / Book 9 — LITERARY ESSAYS.
Reading edition
THE LIFE AND POETRY OF HOMER
(Homeric quotations are almost all taken from Lord Derby's "Iliad" and Butcher and Long's "Odyssey." The first is indicated by the letter I, the second by O.)
Homer, who was in time first among most poets and by his power first of all poets, we justly read first, thereby gaining the greatest advantages for our language, for our intellect, and for practical knowledge. Let us speak of his poetry, first having shortly recalled his origin.
Homer, Pindar says, was a Chian and of Smyrnae; Simonides says a Chian; Antimachus and Nicander, a Colophonion; but the philosopher Aristotle says he was of Iete; the historian Ephorus says he was from Kyme. Some do not hesitate to say he was from Salamis in Cyprus; some, an Argive. Aristarchus and Dionysius the Thracian say that he was an Athenian. By some he is spoken of as the son of Maeon and Kritheus; by others, (a son) of the river-god Meles.
Just as there is a difficulty about his origin, so there is about the time in which he flourished. Aristarchus says he lived about the period of the Ionian emigration; this happened sixty years after the return of the Heraclidae. But the affair of the Heraclidae took place eighty years after the destruction of Troy. Crates reports that he lived before the return of the Heraclidae, so he was not altogether eighty years distant from the Trojan War. But by very many it is believed that he was born one hundred years after the Trojan War, not much before the foundation of the Olympic games, from which the time according to the Olympics is reckoned.
There are two poems of his, the "Iliad" and the "Odyssey," both, of which are arranged according to the number of letters in the alphabet, not by the poet himself, but by Aristarchus, the grammarian. Of these, the "Iliad" records the deeds of the Greeks and Barbarians in Ilium on account of the rape of Helen, and particularly the valor displayed in the war by Achilles. In the "Odyssey" are described the return of Ulysses home after the Trojan War, and his experiences in his wanderings, and how he took vengeance on those who plotted against his house. From this it is evident that Homer sets before us, through the "Iliad," bodily courage; in the "Odyssey," nobility of soul.
But the poet is not to be blamed because in his poetry he sets forth not only the virtues but the evils of the soul, its sadness and its joys, its fears and desires; for being a poet, it is necessary for him to imitate not only good but evil characters. For without these the deeds would not get the admiration of the hearer, who must pick out the better characters. And he has made the gods associating with men not only for the sake of interest and entertainment, but that he might declare by this that the gods care for and do not neglect men.
To sum up, an extraordinary and mythical narration of events is employed in order to stir his readers with wonder and to make his hearers strongly impressed. Whence he seems to have said some things contrary to what is likely. For the persuasive always follows where the remarkable and elevated are previously conjoined. Therefore he not only elevates actions, and turns them from their customary course, but words as well. That he always handles novel things and things out of the common sphere, and leads on his hearers, is evident to every one. And indeed in these fabulous narratives, if one reads not unattentively but carefully each element of what is said, Homer appears to have been at home in the whole sphere and art of logic, and to have supplied many incentives, and as it were seeds of all kinds of thought and action to his posterity, not to poets alone, but to the authors of historical and scientific works. Let us first look at his varied form of speech, and afterward at his sound knowledge on matters of fact. All poetry grips the hearer by definite order of coordinated expressions, by rhythm and metre, since the smooth and flowing, by becoming at the same time grave and sweet, forces the attention by its action on the senses. Whence it comes to pass also that it delights not only by the striking and attractive parts, but easily persuades by the parts tending to virtue.
The poems of Homer have the most perfect metre, the hexameter, which is also called heroic. It is called hexameter because each line has six feet: one of these is of two long syllables, called spondee; the other, of three syllables, one long and two short, which is called dactyl. Both are isochronic. These in interchangeable order fill out the hexameter verse. It is called heroic because in it the deeds of the heroes are recounted.
He makes use of a sound diction, combining the characteristics of every Greek dialect, from which it is plain that he travelled over the whole of Greece and among every people in it. He uses the ellipse of the Dorians, due to their practice of shortening their speech, saying for [Greek omitted], as (O. i. 392): "Immediately a beautiful horse ([Greek omitted]) was his," and for [Greek omitted] he uses [Greek omitted], as (O. xix. 543): "Because ([Greek omitted]) an eagle killed my geese"; and for [Greek omitted], "back," [Greek omitted], changing the o into a, the [Greek letter omitted] and the [Greek letter omitted] into its related letter. And [Greek omitted] he changes to [Greek omitted](I. xiv. 249): "For before at another time ([Greek omitted]) your precepts made me modest," and similar cases. Likewise, dropping the middle syllable, he says for [Greek omitted], "of like hair," and [Greek omitted], "of the same years," [Greek omitted]; and for [Greek omitted], that is, "of the same father," [Greek omitted]; for [Greek omitted]; "to tremble," [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted], "I honour," [Greek omitted]. It is a characteristic of the Dorians also to transpose letters, as when they say for [Greek omitted], [Greek omitted].
In composite words he makes use of the syncope of the Aeolians, saying [Greek omitted] instead of [Greek omitted], "they went to sleep," and [Greek omitted], for [Greek omitted], "to subject."
Then when the third person of the imperfect among other Greek peoples ends in the diphthong [Greek letter], the Eolians end in [Greek letter], as when they say for [Greek omitted], "he was loving," [Greek omitted], and for [Greek omitted], "he was thinking," [Greek omitted]. This custom Homer followed, saying (I. xi. 105): "He bound ([Greek omitted]) in tender twigs," instead of [Greek omitted], and (O. v. 478): "Which neither any humid power of the wind penetrates" [Greek omitted]. Besides this they change [Greek letter] into [Greek letter], as they say [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted], "odor," and [Greek Omitted] for [Greek omitted], "we knew."
Besides, they use pleonasm in some expressions, as when they put for [Greek omitted], "calm," [Greek omitted], [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted], "but," [Greek omitted] got [Greek omitted], "having cried." And when to the second person of verbs they add [Greek omitted], for [Greek omitted] "thou speakest," [Greek omitted], and for [Greek omitted], "thou hast spoken," [Greek omitted]. Some attribute the doubling of the consonant to the Dorians, some to the Aeolians. Such as we find in I. v. 83: "Black death laid hold on [Greek omitted] him," [Greek omitted]; for [Greek omitted] as I. iii. 321: "Each did these deeds."
He preserves the peculiarity of the Ionians for the preterite tenses of verbs the aphaeresis, as where he says [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted]. So in past tenses they are want to begin with the same letter as in present tenses and to leave off the [Greek letter] in the word [Greek omitted], "priest" and [Greek omitted], "hawk." Besides, they add [Greek letter] to the third persons of the subjunctive mood, as when they say for [Greek omitted] "may have come," [Greek omitted], and for [Greek omitted], "may have taken," [Greek omitted]. This participle they add to the dative, [Greek omitted], "to the gates," "to the woods." Besides, they say [Greek omitted] for "name", and [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted], "disease" and [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted], "empty," and [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted], "black." And then they change long [Greek letter] into [Greek letter], as[Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted], "Juno," and for [Greek omitted], Minerva. And sometimes they change [Greek letter] into [Greek letter], saying for [Greek omitted], "having forgotten." Moreover, they write in full by diaeresis words which are circumflexed, for [Greek omitted], "intelligent," [Greek omitted]. In the same way they lengthen genitive singulars in [Greek omitted], as [Greek omitted], and genitive feminines in [Greek omitted], as [Greek omitted], "of gates," [Greek omitted], "of nymphs," and finally regular plurals of nouns in the neuter gender ending in [Greek letter] as [Greek omitted], [Greek omitted], "breasts," "darts," and their genitives likewise. They say in their way [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted].
But he most largely used the Attic dialect for it was combined with others. For just as in Attic they say [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted], "people," so he did, as [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted], "debt." It is a custom with them sometimes to use contractions and to put one syllable for two, as for [Greek omitted], "word," [Greek omitted], and for [Greek omitted], "clothes," [Greek omitted]. Related to these is that Homeric expression, "the Trojans in crowds bent over" [Greek omitted], and another case, "fields bearing the lotos" [Greek omitted], instead of [Greek omitted]. Besides they take [Greek letter] from that type of optative, saying for [Greek omitted], "it might seem good to thee," [Greek omitted], for [Greek omitted], "mightiest thou be honored," [Greek omitted]. There is also an Atticism [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted] in his verse (I. iii. 102):—
But you others discerned most quickly.
Likewise this, too, is Attic, "the more were worse [Greek omitted], the few better [Greek omitted], than their fathers;" we say [Greek omitted] or [Greek omitted]. And they do not prolong these by diaeresis, [Greek omitted], as "oxen [Greek omitted] falling down," and, "fishes [Greek omitted] and birds." And that, too, is said in the Attic fashion (O. xii. 331):—
Nor flowing do they break ([Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted]) by their violence.
In the same way as [Greek omitted], [Greek omitted].
And the taking away short vowels is Attic: [Greek omitted], "he is washed," [Greek omitted], "I think," [Greek omitted]; in the same way for [Greek omitted], "he is loosed," he says [Greek omitted]. The Attics say [Greek omitted], adding an unnecessary [Greek letter], whence also comes [Greek omitted], "he was pouring out wine." They contract the iota in words of this sort, as for [Greek omitted], "shores," [Greek omitted], "shores," and for [Greek omitted], [Greek omitted]. So also (I. xi. 782):—
You two [Greek omitted] wished it very much.
Finally in datives ending in pure iota with a penultimate of alpha the same is done, as [Greek omitted], "horn," [Greek omitted], "old age," [Greek omitted], "ray." And this, too, is Attic, where it is said [Greek omitted], "let them be," and [Greek omitted], "let them follow," for [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted]. The use of the dual which Homer repeatedly employs is of the same type. Also with feminine substantives he joins masculine articles, participles, and adjectives, as [Greek omitted]. This is a practice with Plato, as when he uses [Greek omitted] "pillaging," and [Greek omitted], "the wise just woman." So, too, Homer (I. viii. 455), speaking of Here and Athene, says:—
In vain smitten [Greek omitted] with a thunderbolt on our chariots,—
and (I. iv. 22):—
Athene was indeed unwilling [Greek omitted],—
and (I. ii. 742):—
Famous [Greek omitted] Hippodamea.
Moreover the dialects have many peculiarities of construction. When the poet says (I. iv. 100):—
But seek with your javelins of divine Menelaos,—
instead of the accusative, he presents an Attic usage. But when he says (I. ii. 186):—
He took for him the sceptre and he took the cup for fair-cheeked Themis—
instead of "from him" and "from Themis," he is employing a Dorian usage.
Accordingly it appears how he makes his diction varied by throwing together words of all the Greek dialects, and sometimes he makes use of foreign words as are the aforesaid, sometimes archaic words, as when he says [Greek omitted], "falchion," and [Greek omitted], "sword," sometimes common and ordinary words, as when he says [Greek omitted], "sword and shield"; one might wonder how well common words in his poetry preserve dignity of speech.
But an artificially wrought style cultivates variation from the customary, by which it becomes clever, more dignified, and altogether more attractive. The turn of expression is called a Trope, and change of construction is called a Schema. The forms of these are described in technical treatises. Let us examine if any of these is omitted by Homer or whether anything else was discovered by his successors which he himself did not use first.
Among Tropes, Onomatopoeia is very common. For he knew the early origin of words. The first who gave names to things called many of them from what had taken place, and therefore introduced inarticulate sounds into writing. As when they said [Greek omitted], "to blow," [Greek omitted], "to cut," [Greek omitted], "to woo," [Greek omitted], "to thunder," and others like these. Whence he himself created certain words not previously existing, copying the things they signified, as [Greek omitted], "sound," and other things also indicating sounds, [Greek omitted], and others of the same kind. None could be found more significant. And again where some words pertaining to certain things he attributes to others, as when he says (I. xxi. 337):—
Bearing an evil fire,—
which signifies its power in burning, and "fever" he uses for "fire." Like these is the expression (I. xix. 25):—
Brass striking wounds,—
he writes to express wounds inflicted by brass. And to sum up he uses much novelty of speech, with great freedom, changing some from their customary use, giving distinction to others for the sake of infusing in his language beauty and grandeur.
He has also much fertility in epithets; these being fitted to their objects properly and naturally have the force of proper names, as when he gives to the several gods each some proper designation, so he calls Zeus the "all-wise and high thundering," and the Sun, Hyperion, "advancing aloft," and Apollo, Phoebus, that is, shining. But after the Onomatopoeia let us examine other Tropes.
Catechresis, which changes a word from a customary signification to another not recognized. This is to be found in the poet when he says golden chain [Greek omitted], but [Greek omitted] properly means a rope, and when he says a goat helmet [Greek omitted]; now a helmet is [Greek omitted] in Homer, because it used to be made of dog's skin, not of goat's skin.
Metaphor, so-called because it transfers a thing from its proper significance to another with an analogous likeness to both, occurs in many and varied forms in verse, as is the line (O. ix. 481):—
He comes, having broken off the crown of a great mountain,—
and (O. x. 195):
An island which the sea laves and crowns.
For the relation a crown has to him whom it encircles, the same the sea has to an island. By making use of related but not usual words he makes his speech not only more beautiful but more picturesque.
There are in Homer various kinds of metaphors; some applied from animate things to animate, as, "the driver of the caerulean ship spoke" instead of the sailor, and "he went to Agamemnon the son of Atreus, the shepherd of the people" instead of king. Some are applied from animate to inanimate, as (I. ii. 824):—
Under the extreme foot of Ida,—
that is, the rising ground. Also (I. ix. 141):—
The breast of the field,—
that is, the fertility. Others, on the contrary, from inanimate to animate, as (I. xxiv. 205):—
The iron breast.
From inanimate to animate, as (O. v. 490):—
Preserving the seed of fire,—
instead of the generating origin. Then he has metaphors of verbs as well as substantives (I. xvii. 265):—
As the shores bellow with the smiting salt and gale,—
instead of "resound."
Another Trope which is called Metalepsis, signifying a different thing by a synonym (O. xv. 299):—
I beached the ship in the sharp islands,—
for he wishes to signify islands properly called jagged. Both words in Greek are synonyms. For in Greek sharp not only signifies swiftness of motion, but also in a figure that which rises into a slender shape. Such is the quotation (O. ix. 327):—
accompanied him and sharpened my pace.
Another Trope is named Synecdoche, called from this reason; that from what is properly meant, another of the like kind is understood. This Trope has also many varieties. For either we perceive the part from the whole, as (I. xii. 137):—
They advanced straight to the walls the burning bulls,—
for he wishes to indicate by the appellation "bulls" the leather out of which shields are wont to be made. Or from a part the whole (O. i. 343):—
I long for such a head,—
for from the head he signifies the man. And when for beautiful he says "endowed with beautiful cheeks," and for well armed he says "well greaved." Or from one the many, as when he speaks of Odysseus (O. i. 2):—
When he wasted the sacred citadel of Troy.
Not he by himself took Troy, but along with the rest of the Greeks. From the many one, as (I. iii. 397), "happy breasts," i.e. breast. From the species the genus, as (I. xii. 380):—
Casting on the hard marble,—
for marble is a species of rock. From the genus the species (O. ii. 159).—
To know the birds and to say many fitting things.
He wishes to say not all birds, but only the birds of auspices. From the instruments the action, as (I. ii. 827):—
Pandorus to whom he gave the bow of Apollo.
By the bow he indicates the skill in using it. And (O. xii. 172):—
Sitting they made the water white,—
and (O. iii. 486):—
Now others moved the whole day the thong of their sandal.
This comes from an accidental feature; in the first case "they were rowing," in the next "they were running," is to be implied. Besides there is the consequent to the precedent, as (O. xi. 245):—
She loosed the virgin zone.
It follows that she defiled it. From the consequent the precedent, as when instead of saying "to kill" he says "to disarm," that is, to spoil.
There is another Trope called Metonymy, i.e. when an expression applied properly to one thing indicates another related to it, such as (I. ii. 426):—
But the young men proceed to grind Demeter,—
for he means the crop of grain named from its inventor, Demeter. And when he says (O. xix. 28):—
They held the transfixed entrails over Hephaestus.
By the name Hephaestus he signifies fire. Like what has previously been mentioned is this (I. i. 223).—
Whoever shall touch my choenix,—
for what is contained in the choenix is intended.
There is besides another Trope, Autonomasia, when an epithet or co-title is used for a proper name, as in this example (I. viii. 39):—
The son of Peleus again attacked the son of Atreus with petulant words.
By this he indicates Achilles and Agamemnon respectively. And again (I. xxii. 183):—
Be of good cheer, Tritonia, dear daughter,—
and in other places (I. xx. 39):—
Shorn Phoebus.
In the one case he means Athene and in the other Apollo.
There is, too, Antiphrasis, or an expression signifying the opposite from what it appears to do (I. i. 330):—
Seeing these Achilles did not rejoice.
He wishes to say the contrary, that seeing them he was disgusted.
There is also Emphasis, which through reflection adds vigor to what is said (O. xi. 523):—
But descending into the home which Epeus constructed.
In the word "descending" he reveals the great size of the house. Of the same kind is the line (I. xvi. 333):—
The whole sand was hot with blood,—
for in this he furnishes a more intense description, as if the sand was so bathed with blood that it was hot. These kind of Tropes were invented by Homer first of all.
Let us look at the changes of construction which are called figures to see if Homer also first invented these. Figure is a method of expression divergent from ordinary custom for the sake of ornament or utility, altered by a kind of fiction. For beauty is added to narrative by variety and change of expression, and these make the style more impressive. They are also useful because they exalt and intensify innate qualities and powers.
Among the figures Pleonasm is sometimes used for the sake of the metre; as in (I. xix. 247):—
Odysseus adding all ten talents of gold,—
for the word "all" is added without contributing to the sense. It is done for the sake of ornament, cf. (I. xviii. 12).—
Certainly the strenuous son of Menoetius is quite dead,—
for the word "quite" is pleonastic after the Attic fashion.
Sometimes by several forms of speech he unfolds his meaning. This is called Periphrasis. As when he says "Sons of the Achaeans" for Achaeans, and the "Herculean might" for Hercules.
Things are said figuratively by Mutation when the ordinary order is inverted. But he puts in an expression in the midst which is called Hyperbaton, as in this (I. xvii. 542):—
Just as a lion feeds on an eaten bull,—
instead of saying the lion eats up the bull. And so he passes the limits of the sentence (I. ii. 333):—
He said, and loudly cheered the Greeks—and loud From all the hollow ships came back the cheers— In admiration of Ulysses' speech.
The order is the Argives applauded with a great shout the speech of divine Odysseus.
Of the same kind is the figure called Parembole, or interposition, when something outside having nothing to do with the subject is introduced. If it is removed, the construction is not affected (I. i. 234):—
By this I say and with an oath confirm By this my royal staff, which never more Shall put forth leaf nor spray, since first it left Upon the mountain side its parent stem Nor blossom more; since all around the axe Hath lopped both leaf and bark—...
and the rest as much as he has said about the sceptre, then joining what follows with the beginning (I. i. 340):—
The time shall come when all the sons of Greece Shall mourn Achilles' loss.
He uses also Palillogia—that is the repetition of some part of a sentence, or several parts are repeated. This figure is called Reduplication, such as (I. xx. 371):—
Encounter him well! Though his hands were hands of fire, Of fire, his hands, his strength as burnished steel.
Sometimes certain insertions are made and they are repeated, as in (O. i. 22):—
Howbeit Poseidon had now departed for the distant Ethiopians, the Ethiopians that are sundered in twain, the uttermost of men.
This is a figure revealing the feeling of the speaker and at the same time affecting the hearer.
Of the same kind is Relation; when at the commencement of several members of a sentence the same part is repeated. An example of this from the poet is (I. ii. 671):—
Nireus three well-trimmed ships from Syme brought. Nireus to Charops whom Aglaia bore. Nireus the goodliest man of all the Greeks.
This figure is likewise adapted to excite the emotions and give sweetness to the expression.
He has also Regression. This is when one puts forward two names of objects. When the sense is not yet complete, the poet returns to both of the names, completing what is lacking in the sense, as (I. v. 518).—
Followed the thronging bands of Troy, by Mars and fierce Bellona led: she by the hand wild uproar held; while Mars a giant spear brandished aloft.
The characteristic of this figure is variety and perspicuity.
He has also the figure called Homoioteleuton in which the parts of the sentence have endings similar in sound and have the same syllables at the end (O. xv. 74):—
Men should love a guest while he is with them, and send him on his way when he would depart,—
and in the following (O. vi. 42):—
And she departed to Olympus, where they say is the seat of the gods that standeth fast forever. Not by the wind 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.
When periods or their members end in nouns which are of the same declension this is properly called Homoioptolon, as the following (I. ii. 87):—
[Greek omitted] As swarms of bees, that pour in ceaseless stream From out the crevice of some hollow rock.
The above and others like them add grace and attractiveness to the narrative.
As a proof of his care in composition we often see he employs two figures in the same verses, as Epanaphora and Homoioteleuton (I. ii. 382):—
Each sharpen well his spear, his shield prepare Each to his fiery steeds their forage give.
Belonging to these is the figure called Parison, which is formed out of two or more numbers having an equal number of words (I. vii. 93):—
Shamed to refuse, but fearful to accept.—
and again (I. xvi. 282):—
Had cast away difference, had resumed friendship,—
That this figure gives much ornament of style is very clear.
The like grace comes from Paranomasia, when besides the name in question another similar one is added at a slight interval (I. vi. 130):—
Not long did Dryas' son, Lycurgus brave,—
and in another (I. ii. 758):—
Swift-footed Protheus led.
But the above examples are arranged either by Pleonasm or by some such like artifice. But there is another due to absence of a word. Of thes omitted the sense is plain from what has gone before, as in the following (I. ix. 328):—
Twelve cities have I taken with my ships, Eleven more by land on Trojan soil,—
where the words "have I taken" are wanting in last line, but are supplied from the preceding one. This is said to be by Ellipse (I. xii. 243):—
One bird best to defend the fatherland,—
where the word "is" is lacking. And (I. xx. 293):—
Alas I the grief to me of great-hearted Aeneas,—
when the words "is present," "comes," or something of the kind, are understood.
There are many kinds of Ellipses in Homer; the effect of the figure is quickness.
Of this sort is Asyndeton when the conjunctions uniting sentences are removed. This is done not only for the sake of celerity, but also of the sake of emotional emphasis. Such as is the following (O. x. 251):—
We went on our way, noble Odysseus, up through the coppice even as thou didst command; we found within the forest glades the fair halls builded of polished stone of Circe.
In these the conjunction is dropped since the speaker seeks the quickest method of expressing his message. There is among the figures what is called the Incongruous or the Variation. It is used when the ordinary arrangement is made different. And the variety is due either to impressing grace and elegance to the words; the ordinary movements not seeming to be followed, but the alteration has an arrangement of its own.
It often takes place when the genders of nouns are changed as [Greek omitted] instead of [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted]. It was not unusual for the ancients, and especially among the people of Attica, to use masculine for feminine as superior and more vigorous. Nor did they do this without rhyme and reason, but when they made use of a word, as an epithet apart from the body which was spoken of. For the words concerned with the body are "great, beautiful," those not connected with it, "glorious, fortunate." Besides, they are ambiguous on account of their composition. For in general all compound things are common to either gender. And wherever a verb or participle is used with a masculine and feminine noun, the masculine prevails (I. vi. 567):—
The virgins and the youths minding childish things,—
where the participle is masculine.
Certain things, owing to the peculiarity of the dialect or the custom of that time, are said differently, [Greek omitted] feminine instead of [Greek omitted] (O. i. 53):—
And himself upholds the tall pillars which keep earth and sky asunder.
Often as the narrative proceeds he changes the genders, as in (O, xv. 125):—
I give to you the gift, my dear son.
Son is a neuter substantive to which the adjective agrees; the poet refers it to the person. Of the same kind is that which is said by Dione to Venus (I. v. 382):—
Have patience, dearest child; though much enforced.
Analogous to it is that (O. xi. 90):—
Anon came the soul of Theban Teiresias, with a golden sceptre in his hand,—
for he made the participle [Greek omitted] agree not with the gender of soul [Greek omitted], but the gender of the body, that is, Teiresias. For often he looks not to the word but to the sense, as in this passage (I. xvi. 280):—
In all their spirit stirred, and the phalanxes moved hoping for the idle son of Peleus from the ships,—
for the participle [Greek omitted] does not agree with the word "phalanxes," but with the men composing them.
In another way he changes genders, as when he says (O. xii. 75):—
And a dark cloud encompasses it; this never streams away,—
since [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted], "cloud," are synonyms, using first [Greek omitted] he afterward makes his adjectives agree with [Greek omitted] understood. Like this are these verses (I. ii. 459):—
As various tribes of winged fowl or geese Or cranes or long necked swans Besides Coysters stream, now here, now there, Disporting, ply their wings.
For having first set down generically the kinds of birds, which are neuter, then after speaking of the species in the masculine he comes back again to the neuter—settling down with a noise giving the proper agreement to the general word of the species.
The poet often changes the number as well as the gender (I. xv. 305):—
The crowd approach the ships of the Achaeans.
First comes a singular then a plural verb, plainly looking to the sense, for although the word "crowd" is called singular, yet it embraces many individuals.
Like it in the opposite way is when the plural precedes the singular follows (I. xvi. 264):—
They having a martial heart each one rushes on.
The word [Greek omitted] is singular, being applied to a multitude has the same effect as all ([Greek omitted]). The same kind of figure is the following (O. iii. 4):—
And they reached Pylas, the stablished castle of Neleus, and the people were doing sacrifice on the seashore.
The people of Pylas are meant.
He has changes of cases, the nominative and the vocative being interchanged in the following verse (I. ii. 107):—
To Agamemnon last Thyestis left it,—
and (I. i. 411):—
Cloud-compelling Zeus,—
and (0. xvii. 415):—
Friend [Greek omitted] give me for thou dost not seem to me to be the worst of the Greeks.
The genitive and dative are changed in the next example (I. iii. 16):—
Godlike Paris fights in front for the Trojans,—
instead of "in front of." And the contrary in the next (O. v. 68):—
There about the hollow cave trailed a gadding vine.
Where in the original the Greek word "cave" is in the genitive case, not as it should be, dative. And the cause of the mutation is that the nominative accusative and vocative seem to have a certain relation to one another. On which account nouns of the neuter gender and many masculine and feminine ones have these three cases alike. Likewise the genitive has a certain affinity with the dative. This is found in the dual number of all words. Hence the cases are changed contrary to what is usual. Sometimes it is possible to discover the reason for the change, as in the expression (I. v. 222):—
Understanding of the field,—
and (I. ii. 785):—
They crossed the field,—
just as if he had used the preposition "through."
A fine example of change of case is found in the beginning of both his poems:—
Sing, O Muse, the vengeance, etc., whence to Greece unnumbered ills arose. Tell me, Muse, of that man, of many a shift and many the woes he suffered.
Sometimes after the genitive he brings in the nominative, as in this (I. i. 272):—
Of others who are now mortal.
He arranges many things in figures in various ways, as the following passage (I. ii. 350):—
For well I ween, that on the day when first We Grecians hitherward our course address'd To Troy the messengers of blood and death Th' o'erruling son of Saturn, on our right His lightning flashing, with auspicious sign Assur'd us of his favor.
And the following is not unlike it (I. vi. 510):—
His bright arms flashing like the gorgeous sun Hasten'd with boastful mien and rapid step.
And these things, according to the ancient fashion, he exalts not unreasonably. If any one changes the participles into verbs, he will discover the sequence, for the word "lightning" has the same value as "when it was lightning," and "relying" "since he relied." Like these cases are the following (O. xii. 73):—
There are two crags, one reaches the broad sky,
and (I. vii. 306):—
They parted: Ajax to the Grecian camp And Hector to the ranks of Troy returned.
And others of the same kind. For it is reasonable when one is about to speak of two individuals to put first what is common to the two, keeping the nominative in both cases. It is plain that this common use displays much grace. Sometimes employing a common case he signifies only one, as in the following (I. iii. 211):—
Both sat down, Ulysses was the higher in honor.
The form of words he often changes, sometimes putting the comparative instead of the absolute (I. i. 32):—
That you may return a more sane being.
Sometimes the superlative for the positive, as (I. xi. 832);—
Most just of Centaurs.
Such is the change in nouns. But in verbs there is a change in moods, as when the infinitive is used for the imperative, as (I. v. 124):—
Go fearless onward, Diomed, to meet the Trojan darts,—
where the imperative "meet" might be expected.
Or the indicative in place of the optative, as (I. ii. 488):—
The crowd I shall not relate nor name,—
where one would expect "I could not relate nor name." And, on the contrary, the optative for the indicative, as (I. v. 388):—
Mars would then be lost,—for "was lost."
There is a variation of tenses when the present is used for the future (I. l. 29)—
Her I release not till her youth be fled,—
instead of "shall flee." Or for the imperfect (O. vi. 86):—
Where truly were the unfailing cisterns, and bright water wells up free from beneath,—
instead of "welled up." And the future for the present (O. i. 24):—
Abiding some, where Hyperion will sink; and some, where he rises.
Or in place of the past (O. v. 300):—
I fear that indeed the goddess may spake all things truly.
And the voices are often changed. Instead of the active, the passive and middle are often used, as (I. i. 194):—
A great sword is drawn from its sheath,—
instead of "he drew." And (I. xiii. 4):—
His keen glance turning to view,—instead of "seeing."
And, on the other hand, the active instead of the passive:—
I shall give a tripod with a golden handle,—instead of "shall be given."
It can be seen how he changes numbers, putting the plural for the singular as often happens in common speech when one speaks of himself as if of several, as in the following (O. i. 10):—
Of these things, goddess daughter of Zeus, from whatsoever source thou wilt declare even to us,—
instead of "to me."
We find with him a change of persons of one sort, as (I. v. 877):—
The other gods, who in Olympus dwell, Are to thee obedient and we are submissive.
For since there are many gods, among whom is the person speaking, both classes are well indicated by saying, "they are obedient" and "we are submissive." In another way leaving the person who is spoken of, he changes from one to another. This is called specifically Apostrophe, and affects us by its emotional character and stimulates the hearer, as in the following stanza (I. xv. 346):—
While loudly Hector to the Trojans called To assail the ships and leave the bloody spoils Whom I elsewhere and from the ships aloof Shall find,—
changing from the narrative to direct discourse. In the narration itself he often uses Apostrophe (I. xx. 2.):
Round thee eager for the fray stood the sons of Greece.
But he makes use of direct narrative and change of persons, as in the following passage (I. ii. 337):—
Like children, Grecian warriors, ye debate Like babes to whom unknown are feats of arms. Atrides thou, as is thy wont, maintain Unchang'd thy counsel; for the stubborn fight Array the Greeks.
There is another kind of this Apostrophe (I. ii. 344):—
Thou wouldst not know to whom Tydides may join himself,—
instead of "no one can know."
And again (O. ix. 210):—
And a marvellous sweet smell went up from the mixing bowl: then truly it was no pleasure to refrain.
58. He uses participles in the place of verbs, as in these words (I. viii. 306):—
Weighed down in a garden by this fruit,—
instead of "it is weighed," and (O. xiii. 113):—
Thither they as having knowledge of that place drive their ships,—
instead of "before they knew."
And articles he often changes, setting demonstrative instead of relatives (I. xvi. 150):—
Whom Podarge, swift of foot, to Zephyr bore,—and the contrary (I. xvii. 460):— And breastplate: for his own his faithful friend hath lost.
So he was wont to change prepositions (I. i. 424):—
Yesterday he went through the banquet,—instead of "to the banquet."
And (I. i. 10):—
And he stirred up an evil plague through the army.
Likewise he joins with a preposition a noun improperly, as in the verse (I. x. 101):—
Lest perchance they wish to decide the contest in the night,—
where the preposition is followed by, the accusative, not the genitive. And as to other prepositions, some he changes, some he omits (I. ii. 696):—
Of whom he lies lamenting,—instead of "concerning whom."
And (O. xxiii. 91):—
Expecting whether he would bespeak him,—instead of "speak to him."
And other prepositions he in the same fashion changes or leaves out. And adverbs he changes, using indifferently motion towards, rest in, and motion from a place (I. xx. 151):—
His grandchildren were setting down from elsewhere,—instead of "elsewhere" (I. vii. 219):— And Ajax came from near,—instead of "near."
Finally he has changes of conjunctions, as (O. i. 433):—
He never lay with her and he shunned the wrath of his lady,— instead of "for he shunned," etc. And these are the figures of speech which not only all poets but the writers of prose have employed.
But significance is given by him in many ways. One of which is Proanaphonesis, which is used when any one in the midst of a narration uses an order proper to other things, as in the following line (O. xxi, 98):—
He was to be the first that should taste the arrow,— and Epiphonesis (I. xvii. 32):— After the event may e'en a fool be wise.
The use of Prosopopoiia is frequent and varied with him. For he introduces many different people speaking together, to whom he attributes various characteristics. Sometimes he re-creates characters no longer living, as when he says (I. vii. 125):—
What grief would fill the aged Pellus's soul.
There is, too, Diatyposis, which is the working out of things coming into being or actually existent or that have come to pass, brought in to make what is said clearer, as in the following (I. ix. 593):—
The slaughtered men, the city burnt with fire, The helpless children and deep-bosomed dames.
Or, to produce pity (I. xxii. 60):—
Look, too, on me with pity: me on whom E'en on the threshold of mine age, hath Jove A bitter burthen cast, condemned to see My sons struck down, my daughters dragged away In servile bonds: our chamber's sanctity Invaded; and our babes by hostile hands Dashed to the ground.
There is also to be found in him Irony, i.e. an expression revealing the opposite of what is said with a certain ethical artifice; as in the speech of Achilles (I. ix. 391):—
Let him choose among the Greeks a fitter King.
For he hints that he would not find one of more royal temper. And this is the same Trope used when one speaks about himself in extenuation and gives a judgment contrary to one's own. There is another form when any one pretends to praise another and really censures him. As the verse in Homer, put in the mouth of Telemachus (O. xvii. 397):—
Antinous—verily thou hast good care of me, as it were a father for his son.
For he says to an enemy that he cares as a father for his son, and, again, when any one by way of jest extolls his neighbor, as the suitors (O. ii. 325):—
In my truth Telemachus planneth our destruction. He will bring a rescue either from sandy Pylos, or it may be from Sparta, so terribly is he set on slaying us.
Sarcasm is a species of Irony used when any one jibes at another with a pretence of smiling. As Achilles, in the following passage (I. ix. 335):—
He meted out Their several portions, and they hold them still. From me, from me alone of all the Greeks, He bore away and keeps my cherished wife. Well! let him keep her, solace of his bed.
Like this in kind is Allegory, which exhibits one thing by another, as in the following (O. xxii. 195):—
Now in good truth Melanthiusi shalt thou watch all night, lying on, a soft bed as beseems thee.
For being in chains and hanging, he says he can rest on a soft bed.
Often, too, he makes use of Hyperbole, which, by exaggerating the truth, indicates emphasis, as (I. x. 437):—
These surpass in brilliancy the snow, in speed the eagle.
Homer used Tropes and figures of this sort and handed them down to posterity, and justly obtains glory beyond all others.
Since there are also Characters of speech called Forms, of which one is Copiousness, the other Gracefulness, and the third Restraint, let us see if Homer has all these separate classes, on which poets and orators have worked after him. There are examples of these—copiousness in Thucydides, gracefulness in Lysias, restraint in Demosthenes. That is copious which by combination of words and sentences has great emphasis. An example of this is (O. v. 291):—
With that he gathered the clouds and troubled the waters of the deep, rasping his trident in his hands: and he roused all storms of all manner of winds and shrouded in clouds the land and sea: and down sped night from heaven.
The graceful is delicate by the character of the matter. It is drawn out by the way it is expressed (I. vi. 466).—
Thus he spake, great Hector stretch'd his arms To take the child: but back the infant shrank, Crying, and sought his nurse's sheltering breast, Scar'd by the brazen helm and horse-hair plume.
The restrained is between the two, the copious and the graceful, as (O. xxii. 291):—
Then Odysseus, rich in counsel, stripped him of his rags and leaped on the great threshold with his bow and quiver full of arrows, and poured forth all the swift shafts there before his feet, and spake among the wooers.
But the florid style of speech, which has beauty and capacity for creating delight and pleasure, like a flower, is frequent in our poet; his poetry is full of such examples. The kinds of phrasing have much novelty in Homer, as we shall go on to show, by giving a few examples from which the rest may be gathered.
Every type of style practised among men is either historical, theoretic, or political. Let us examine whether the beginnings of these are to be found in him. Historical style contains a narration of facts. The elements of such a narration are character, cause, place, time, instrument, action, feeling, manner. There is no historical narration without some of these. So it is with our poet, who relates many things in their development and happening. Sometimes in single passages can be found relations of this kind.
Of character, as the following (I. v. 9):—
There was one Dores 'mid the Trojan host, The priest of Vulcan, rich, of blameless life; Two gallant sons he had, Idaeus named And Phegeus, skilled in all the points of war.
He describes features, also, as in the case of Thersites (I. ii. 217):—
With squinting eyes, and one distorted foot, His shoulders round, and buried in his breast His narrow head, with scanty growth of hair.
And many other things, in which he often pictures the type or appearance or character, or action or fortune of a person, as in this verse (I. xx. 215):—
Dardanus first, cloud-compelling Zeus begot,—and the rest.
There is in his poetry description of locality; where he speaks about the island near that of the Cyclops, in which he describes the look of the place, its size, its quality, and the things in it, and what is near it. Also, when he describes the things adjacent to the island of Calypso (O. v. 63):—
And round about the cave there was a wood-blossoming alder and poplar, and sweet-smelling cypress.
And what follows. And innumerable other things of the same kind.
Time narratives are found as follows (I. ii. 134):—
Already now nine weary years have passed.
And (I. ii. 303):—
Not long ago, when ships of Greece were met at Aulis charged with evil freight for Troy.
Then there are the causes, in which he shows why something is coming to pass or has come to pass. Such are the things said at the beginning of the "Iliad" (I. i. 8):—
Say then, what god the fatal strife provoked Jove's and Latona's son; he filled with wrath Against the King, with deadly pestilence The Camp afflicted—and the people died For Chryses' sake, his priest, whom Atreus' son With scorn dismissed,
—and the rest. In this passage he says the cause of the difference between Achilles and Agamemnon was the plague; but the plague was caused by Apollo, and his wrath was due to the insult put upon his priest.
Description of the instrument he gives, as when he tells of the shield made by Vulcan for Achilles. And there is a briefer one on the spear of Hector (I. viii. 493):—
In his hand His massive spear he held twelve cubits long, Whose glittering point flash'd bright with hoop of gold Encircled round.
Narrations of fact are of several kinds, some like the following (I. vii. 60):—
When in the midst they met, together rush'd Bucklers and lances, and the furious might Of mail-clad warriors; bossy shield on shield Clattered in conflict; loud the clamor rose.
The emotional narrative is where the incident is connected with some personal cause or energy, as when he speaks about things arising from anger or fear or sorrow, or when people are wounded, killed, or any other such thing happens to them. As a specimen of cause, take the following (I. i. 103):—
His dark soul filled with fury, and his eyes Flashed like flames of fire.
Of an action (I. xvii. 51):—
Those locks, that with the Graces hair might vie, Those tresses bright, with gold and silver bound, Were dabbled all with blood.
A Trope is constructive of action, or experience, or form, according as one acts in a special way or is acted upon. He follows the whole scene in this sort of narrative. An example of it would be as follows (O. xxii. 15):—
But Odysseus aimed and smote him with the arrow in his throat, and the point passed clean out through his delicate neck and he fell back, and the cup dropped from his hand as he was smitten, and at once through his nostrils there came up a thick jet of slain man's blood.
There is also in Homer narration which has for the most part copious expression, a method of working in full, fitting the subject. Sometimes, however, it is concise, as in the following (I. xviii. 20):—
Patroclus lies in death, And o'er his body now the war is waged, His naked body, for his arms are now The prize of Hector of the glancing helmet.
This type is often useful, for the quickness of the words make the reader and speaker more intent, and he immediately takes in the subject.
Sometimes he tells his story lightly; sometimes by an image or likeness or simile. An image, as when he says (O. xix. 53):—
Now forth from her chamber came the wise Penelope like Artemis or golden Aphrodite.
A likeness as (I. iii. 196):—
He like a goat crossed the serried lines first.
A simile, when he makes a comparison of closely related things that has a connection with subject narrated. There are in Homer various kinds of similes. Constantly and in many ways he compares the behavior and nature of animals to the arts and habits of men.
Sometimes he takes a similitude from very small things, not considering the size of the body, but the nature of each; whence he likens boldness to a fly (I. xvii. 570):—
And she breathed in his breast the courage of the fly.
And he compares assiduity to the same creature (I. ii. 469):—
As the many generations of numberless flies.
The packing together and orderly moving crowd to bees (I. ii. 87):—
As are the crowds of countless bees.
So he shows anger and irritation (I. xvi. 259):—
Like skilful wasps.
And he adds in the same place "when boys are wont to tease," in order that he might heighten their passionate temper by being stirred up by children. Of a continuous sound, he says (I. iii. 151):—
Abundant as the cricket.
For it is a most chattering creature and incessant in it.
But those that produce with no order all kinds of sounds, he likens to (I. iii. 3):—
Just as the clamor of geese strikes to heaven.
But the multitudes resting in order, he likens to birds settling down (I. ii. 493):—
Sitting down with clamor.
Sharpness of sight and act he sometimes likens to the falcon (I. xv. 238):—
Like to a falcon, swooping on a dove, swiftest of birds.
But sometimes to an eagle (I. xvii. 676):—
Like to an eagle, famed of sharpest sight Of all that fly beneath the vault of Heav'n Whom, soaring in the clouds, the crouching dove Eludes not.
He declares its sharpness by its seeing from afar off; its swiftness, by its seizing a very active animal. A man, overcome by the sight of an enemy he compares to one who sees a snake, for he does not hesitate to take examples from reptiles (I. iii. 33):—
As when some traveller spies, could in his path upon the mountain side, a deadly snake.
From the other animals he takes examples; of timidity from the hare and also from the stag (I. iv. 243):—
Why stand ye thus like timid fawns?
From dogs sometimes he takes daring (I. x. 360):—
And as the hounds, well practis'd in the chase.
Sometimes love for their offspring (I. x. 14):—
As a dog loves and defends its pups.
But sometimes their readiness in watching (I. x. 183):—
As round a sheepfold keep their anxious watch The dogs.
A capture done with passion and boldness he is wont to compare to wolves (I. xvi. 352):—
As rav'ning wolves that lambs or kids assail.
Bravery and constancy he shows by wild boars, panthers, and lions, dividing to each one what belongs to its nature. From boars, the onslaught they have, in fighting, making it irresistible (I. iv. 253):—
Idomeneus of courage stubborn as the forest boar.
From panthers, inexhaustible daring (I. xxi. 577):—
As when a panther by the spear transfixed does not remit her rage.
From lions, hesitation, finally bravery, as (I. xx. 171):—
And with his tail he lashes both his flanks and limbs.
Again the rush of a valiant man he likens to a horse which has had a full meal (I. vi. 506):—
As some proud steed, at well-fill'd manger fed.
And, on the contrary, one slow to move; but in endurance not easily overcome, he shows in this way (I. xi. 558):—
As near a field of corn, a stubborn ass o'powers his boyish guides.
The kingly temper and dignity he expresses in the following (I. ii. 480):—
As 'mid the thronging heifers in a herd Stands, proudly eminent, the lordly bull.
He does not omit similes taken from marine creatures, the perseverance of a polypus and the difficulty of removing it from a rock (O. v. 432):—
As when the cuttlefish is dragged forth from his chamber.
The leadership and prominence of the dolphin over the rest (I. xxi. 22):—
As fishes flying from a dolphin.
Oftentimes things made by men he compares to others similarly made, as in this (I. xi. 67):—
The rival bands of reapers mow the swathe.
Showing the resistance and bravery of men. But one lamenting ignobly, he blames in a clear comparison (I. xvi. 7):—
Why weeps Patroelus like an infant girl?
He dared to compare human actions to the elements of nature, as in the following passage (I. ii. 394):—
From th' applauding ranks of Greece Rose a loud sound, as when the ocean wave, Driv'n by the south wind on some lofty beach, Dashes against a prominent crag expos'd To blasts from every storm that wars around.
In these it is plain he used Hyperbola and Amplification, for he was not satisfied with comparing the clamor to the sound of the wind, but to the waves beating on a craggy shore, where the high sea makes the noise greater. Nor is the tempest an ordinary one, but it comes from the south, which especially stirs up the billows, and it is driven against a projecting crag stretching out into the sea, and surrounded by it, and it has the sea over it constantly, and from every side the winds blow and fall upon it. Such things as these are worked out by him in his descriptions. From a few examples we can become acquainted with many.
Let us see if the other forms of narrative are to be found in our author and how he took cognizance of them and clearly prepared them. We will give a few examples and so facilitate acquaintance with the rest.
There is the theoretic style, which embraces what is called speculative matter, which is a knowledge of the truth conceived in art. By these it is possible to know the nature of reality, both divine and human things, and to discriminate virtues and vices in morals and to learn how to attain truth by logical skill. These things are the province of those who are occupied in philosophy, which is divided into natural, ethical, and dialectical. If we find out Homer supplying the beginnings and the seeds of all these, is he not, beyond all others, worthy of admiration? Because he shows matters of intelligence by dark sayings and mythical expressions, it ought not to be considered strange. The reason is to be found in poetic art and ancient custom. So those who desired to learn, being led by a certain intellectual pleasure, might the easier seek and find the truth, and that the unlearned might not despise what they are not able to understand. For what is indicated indirectly is stimulating, while what is said clearly is valued more moderately.
Let us begin with the beginning and creation of the whole universe, which Thales the Milesian refers to the substance water, and let us see whether Homer first discovered this when he said (I. xiv. 246):—
Even to the stream of old Oceanus Prime origin of all.
After him Xenophanes of Colophon, laying down that the first elements were water and land, seems to have taken this conception from the Homeric poems (I. vii. 99):—
To dust and water turn all ye who here inglorious sit.
For he indicates their dissolution into the original elements of the universe. But the most likely opinion makes four elements,—fire, air, water, earth. These Homer shows he knows, as in many places he makes mention of them.
He knew, too, the order of their arrangement. We shall see that the land is the lowest of them all, for as the world is spherical, the sky, which contains all things, can reasonably be said to have the highest position. The earth being in the midst everywhere is below what surrounds it. This the poet declares chiefly in the lines where he says if Zeus let a chain down from Olympus, he could turn over the land and sea so that everything would be in the air (I. viii. 23):—
But if I choose to make my pow'r be known, The earth itself and ocean I could raise, And binding round Olympus' ridge the cord Leave them suspended so in middle air.
Although the air is around the earth, he says the ether is higher in the following lines (I. xiv. 287):—
And going up on a lofty pine, which then grew on the summit of Ida and through the air reached into the ether.
But higher than the ether is heaven (I. xvii. 424):—
And thus they fought: the iron clangor pierc'd The airless ether and brazen vault of Heaven.
And, besides, in the following (I. i. 497):—
The vapor ascended to the great heaven and to Olympus.
The top part of the air is finer and more distant from the earth and its exhalations. Therefore it is said Olympus is called "wholly shining." Where the poet says Hera is the wife of Zeus, although she is his sister, he seems to speak in an allegory, since Hera stands for the air, which is a humid substance. Therefore he says (I. xxi. 6):—
Hera spread before their path clouds of thick darkness.
By Zeus is signified the ether, that is the fiery and heated substance (I. xv. 192):—
Broad Heav'n amid the sky and clouds, to Jove.
They seem brother and sister on account of a certain likeness and relationship, because both are light and mobile; they dwell together and are intimate, because from their intercourse all things are generated. Therefore they meet in Ida, and the land produces for them plants and flowers.
The same explanation have those words in which Zeus says he will, hang Hera and fasten two weights to her feet, namely, the land and the sea. He works out especially the principles of the elements in what Poseidon says to him (I. xv. 187):—
We were brethren, all of Rhaea born To Saturn: Jove and I and Pluto third, Who o'er the nether regions holds his sway,
and (I. xv. 189):—
Threefold was our partition: each obtain'd His meed of honor due.
And in the division of the whole, Zeus obtained the element fire, Poseidon water, and Hades that of air. Him he also calls "aerial darkness," because the air has no proper light, but is lightened by the sun, moon, and other planets.
The fourth part was left common to all, for the primal essence of the three elements is always in motion. The earth alone remains unmoved, to which he added also Olympus; it may have been because it is a mountain, being a part of the earth. If it belongs to heaven, as being the most brilliant and purest part of it, this may be the fifth essence in the elements, as certain distinguished philosophers think. So he, with reason, has conjectured it was common, the lowest part belonging to the earth by its weight, and the top parts to Olympus by their lightness. The natures between the two are borne upward to the one and downward to the other.
Since the nature of the elements is a combination of contraries, of dryness and moisture, hot and cold, and since by their relation and combination all things are constructed and undergo partial changes,—the whole not admitting of dissolution,—Empedocles says all things exist in this manner: "Sometimes in love all things meeting together in one. Sometimes, again, each being carried away by animosity of hate." The concord and unity of the elements he calls love, their opposition, hate.
Before his time Homer foreshadowed love and hate in what he says in his poetry (I. xiv. 200):—
I go to visit old Oceanus The sire of gods, and Tethys, I go to visit them and reconcile a lengthen'd feud.
A similar meaning has the myth about, Aphrodite and Ares, the one having the same force as Empedocles's love, the other his hate. When they sometimes come together, and again separate, the sun reveals them, Hephaestus binds them, and Poseidon releases them. Whence it is evident that the warm and dry essence, and the contrary of these, the cold and wet, sometimes combine all things and again dissolve them.
Related to these is what is said by other poets that by the intercourse of Ares and Aphrodite arises Harmony; a combination of contraries grave and acute analogously accommodating themselves to one another. By which arrangement things which are endowed with a contrary nature are all mutually opposed. The poet seems to have signified this enigmatically in the conflict of the gods, in which he makes some help the Greeks and some the Trojans, showing allegorically the character of each. And he set over against Poseidon Phoebus, the cold and wet against the hot and dry: Athene to Ares, the rational to the irrational, that is, the good to the bad. Hera to Artemis, that is, the air to the moon, because the one is stable and the other unstable. Hermes to Latona, because speech investigates and remembers, but oblivion is contrary to these. Hephaestus to the River God, for the same reason that the sun is opposed to the sea. The spectator of the fight was the primary god, and he is made taking joy in it.
From the afore-mentioned matter Homer seems to show this: that the world is one and finite. For if it had been infinite, it would never have been divided in a number having a limit. By the name "all" he signifies the collective whole. For in many other cases he uses the plural for the singular. He signifies the same thing more clearly in saying (I. xiv. 200):—
The ends of the earth,—and again where he says (I. vii. 478):— Nor should I care Though thou wert thrust beneath the lowest deep Of earth and ocean,—and in On the very top of many-peaked Olympus where there is a top, there, too, is a limit.
His opinions about the sun are plain. That it has an orbicular energy sometimes appearing over the earth, sometimes going under it, this he makes evident by saying (O. x. 190):—
My friends, lo we know not where is the place of darkness or of dawning, nor where the sun that gives light to men goes beneath the earth, nor where he rises.
And that he is always preceding over us and on this account is called Hyperion by our poet; that he makes the sun rising from the water which surrounds the earth the ocean, that the sun descends into it, is clearly expressed. First, as to the rising (O. iii. l):—
Now the sun arose and left the lovely mere speeding to the brazen heaven, to give light to the immortals and to mortal men on the earth.
Its setting (I. vii. 486):—
The sun, now sunk beneath the ocean wave, Drew o'er the teeming earth the veil of night.
And he declares its form (O. xix. 234):—
He was brilliant as the sun,
and its size (I. xi. 735):—
We as sunlight overspread the earth.
and more in the following (O. iv. 400):—
So often as the sun in his course has reached the mid-heaven,—and its power (O. ii. log):— Of Helios, who overseeth all and ordereth all things.
Finally that it has a soul, and in its movement is guided by choice in certain menaces it makes (O. xii. 383):—
I will go down to Hades and shine among the dead.
And on this thus Zeus exhorts him:—
Helios, see that thou shine on amidst the deathless gods amid mortal men upon the earth, the grain giver.
From which it is plain that the sun is not a fire, but some more potent being, as Aristotle conjectured. Assuredly, fire is borne aloft, is without a soul, is easily quenchable and corruptible; but the sun is orbicular and animate, eternal and imperishable.
And as to the other planets scattered through the heavens, that Homer is not ignorant is evident in his poems (I. xviii. 480):—
Pleiads and Hyads and Orions might.
The Bear which always encircles the North Pole is visible to us. By reason of its height it never touches the horizon, because in an equal time, the smallest circle in which the Bear is, and the largest in which Orion is, revolves in the periphery of the world. And Bootes, slowly sinking because it makes a frequent setting, has that kind of position, that is carried along in a straight line. It sinks with the four signs of Zodiac, there being six zodiacal signs divided in the whole night. That he has not gone through all observations of the stars, as Aratus or some of the others, need be surprising to no one. For this was not his purpose.
He is not ignorant of the causes of disturbances to the elements as earthquakes and eclipses, since the whole earth shares in itself air, fire, and water, by which it is surrounded. Reasonably, in its depths are found vapors full of spirit, which they say being borne outward move the air; when they are restrained, they swell up and break violently forth. That the spirit is held within the earth they consider is caused by the sea, which sometimes obstructs the channels going outward, and sometimes by withdrawing, overturns parts of the earth. This Homer knew, laying the cause of earthquakes on Poseidon, calling him Earth Container and Earth Shaker.
Now, then, when these volatile movements are kept within the earth, the winds cease to blow, then arises the darkness and obscurity of the sun. Let us see whether he was aware also of this. He made Poseidon moving the earth after Achilles issued forth to fight. For he had previously mentioned on the day before what the state of the air was. In the incident of Sarpedon (I. xvi. 567):—
Zeus extended opaque shadows over the fight,—
and again in the case of Patroclus (I. xvii. 366):—
Now might ye deem the glorious sun himself nor moon was safe, for darkest clouds of night overspread the warriors.
And a little while afterward Ajax prays (I. xvii. 645):—
O Father Jove, from o'er the sons of Greece, Remove this cloudy darkness; clear the sky That we may see our fate.
But after the earthquake, the vapor issuing forth, there are violent winds, whence Hera says (I. xxi. 334):—
While from the sea I call the strong blast Of Zephyr and brisk Notus who shall drive The raging flames ahead.
On the following day Iris calls the winds to the pyre of Patroclus (I. xxiii. 212):—
They with rushing sound rose and before them drove the hurrying clouds.
So the eclipse of the sun takes place in a natural manner, when the moon on its passage by it goes under it perpendicularly and is darkened. This he seems to have known. For he said before that Odysseus was about to come (O. xiv. 162):—
As the old moon wanes, and the new is born;—
that is, when the month ends and begins, the sun being conjoined with the moon at the time of his coming. The seer says to the suitors (O. xiv. 353):—
Ah, wretched men, what woe is this ye suffer, shrouded in night are your heads and your faces and knees, and kindled is the voice of wailing and the path is full of phantoms and full is the court, the shadows of men hasting hellwards beneath the gloom, and the sun is perished out of heaven, and an evil mist has overspread the world.
He closely observed the nature of the winds, how they arise from the moist element. For the water transformed goes into air. The wind is air in motion. This he shows in very many places, and where he says (O. v. 478):—
The force of the wet winds blew,—
he arranged the order of their series (O. v. 295):—
The East wind and the South wind clashed and the stormy West and the North that is born in the bright air, welling onwards a great wave.
Of these one comes from the rising, one from the midday quarter, one from the setting, one from the north.
And Subsolanus, being humid, changes into the South, which is warm. And the South, rarefying, is changed into the East; but the East, becoming further rarefied, is purified into the North wind, therefore (O. v. 385):—
She roused the swift North and brake the waves before him.
Their contention he explains naturally (O. v. 331):—
Now the South would toss it to the North to carry, and now again the East would yield it to the West.
He knew besides that the North Pole is suspended over the earth, and how it weighs on the men who dwell in that climate. But the South Pole, on the contrary, is profound; as when he says of the North Pole (O. v. 296):—
And the North that is born in the bright air rolling on a great wave on the Southwest wind.
(O. iii. 295):—
Where the Southwest wind drives a great wave against the left headland."
For by saying "rolling" he notes the force of the wave rushing on from above, but the wind "driving" signifies a force applied to what is higher, coming from what is lower.
That the generation of rains comes from the evaporation of the humid, he demonstrates, saying (I. xi. 54):—
Who sent from Heav'n a show'r of blood-stained rain,—
and (I. xvi. 459):—
But to the ground some drops of blood let fall,—
for he had previously said (I. vii. 329):—
Whose blood, beside Scamander's flowing stream, Fierce Mars has shed, while to the viewless shade Their spirits are gone,—
where it is evident that humors of this sort exhaled from the waters about the earth, mixed with blood, are borne upward. The same argument is found in the following (I. xvi. 385):—
As in the autumnal season when the earth with weight of rain is saturate,—for then the sun on account of the dryness of the ground draws out humors from below and brings from above terrestrial disturbances. The humid exhalations produce rains, the dry ones, winds. When the wind is in impact with a cloud and by its force rends the cloud, it generates thunder and lightning. If the lightning falls, it sends a thunderbolt. Knowing this our poet speaks as follows (I. xvii. 595):—
His lightnings flash, his rolling thunders roar.
And in another place (O. xii. 415):—
In that same hour Zeus thundered and cast his bolt upon the ship.
Justly thinking men consider that gods exist, and first of all Homer. For he is always recalling the gods (I. i. 406):—
The blessed gods living a happy life.
For being immortal they have an easy existence and an inexhaustible abundance of life. And they do not need food of which the bodies of mortal men have need (I. v. 341):—
They eat no bread, they drink no ruddy wine, And bloodless and deathless they become.
But poetry requires gods who are active; that he may bring the notion of them to the intelligence of his readers he gives bodies to the gods. But there is no other form of bodies than man's capable of understanding and reason. Therefore he gives the likeness of each one of the gods the greatest beauty and adornment. He has shown also that images and statues of the gods must be fashioned accurately after the pattern of a man to furnish the suggestion to those less intelligent, that the gods exist.
But the leader and head of all these, the chief god the best philosophers think, is without a body, and is rather comprehensible by the intelligence. Homer seems to assume this; by him Zeus is called (I. iv. 68):—
The Sire of gods and men. O father ours, son of Kronos, chief of the greater beings.
And Zeus himself says (I. viii. 27):—
As much as I am better than gods and men.
And Athene says of him (I. viii. 32):—
Well do we know thy power invincible.
If it is necessary to ask how he knew that God was an object of the intelligence, it was not directly shown, as he was using poetic form combined with myth. Yet we can gather it from the things he says (I. i. 498):—
The all-seeing son of Saturn there she found sitting apart.
And where he himself says (I. xx. 22):—
Yet he will upon Olympus' lofty ridge remain and view serene the combat."
That solitude and the not mingling with the other gods, but being gladly by himself and using leisure for one directing and ordering all things, these constitute the character of an "intelligible" God. He knew besides that God is mind and understands all things, and governs all. For censuring Poseidon, he says (I. xiii. 354):—
Equal the rank of both, their birth the same, But Jupiter in wisdom as in years the first.
And this expression frequently is used "when he again thought over other things." This shows that he was ever in thought.
But to the mind of God pertain Providence and Fate, concerning which the philosophers have spoken much. The stimulus to this came from Homer,—why should any one insist on the providence of the gods? Since in all his poetry not only do they speak to one another on behalf of men, but descending on the earth they associate with men. A few things we shall look at for the sake of illustrations; among these is Zeus speaking to his brother (I. xx. 20):—
The purpose, Neptune, well thou know'st thyself For which I called thee; true, they needs must die, But still they claim my care.
And in other places (I. xxii. 168):—
A woful sight mine eyes behold: a man I love in plight around the walls! my heart For Hector grieves.
He refers to the royal dignity of the gods and their loving care of men, saying (O. i. 65):—
How should I forget divine Odysseus, who in understanding is beyond mortals, and beyond all men hath done sacrifice to the deathless gods who keep the wide heaven?
How he makes the gods mingling with and working with men themselves it is possible to learn completely in many passages for just as he represents Athene once helping Achilles and always aiding Odysseus, so he represents Hermes helping Priam, and again Odysseus, for he says (O. xvii. 485):—
Yea even the gods, in the likeness of strangers from far countries, put on all manner of shapes, and wander through cities to watch the violence and the righteousness of men.
It is the characteristic of divine providence to wish men to live justly. This the poet indicates very clearly (O. xiv. 83):—
Verily it is not forward deeds the gods love, but they reverence justice and the righteous acts of men.
And (O. xvi. 386):—
When Jove Pours down his fiercest storms in wrath to men, Who in their courts unrighteous judgments pass.
Then just as he introduces the gods caring for men, so he represents men as mindful of them in every crisis. As the leader, succeeding in an action, says (I. viii. 526):—
Hopeful to Jove I pray, and all the gods To chase from hence these fate-inflicted hounds.
And in danger (I. xvii. 646):—
Father Jove, from o'er the sons of Greece, Remove this cloudy darkness.
And again when one has slayed another (I. xxii. 379):—
Since heaven has granted us this man to slay.
And dying (I. xxii. 358):—
But see I bring not down upon thy head the wrath of heaven.
From what other place than here did originate that doctrine of the Stoics? I mean this, that the world is one and in it both gods and men minister, sharing in justice by their nature. For when he says (I. xx. 4):—
Then Jove to Themis gave command to call The gods to council from the lofty height Of many ridg'd Olympus. Why, Lord of lightning, hast thou summoned here The gods of council, dost thou aught desire Touching the Greeks and Trojans?
What does this mean except that the world is conducted by civilized laws and the gods consult under the presidency of the father of gods and men?
His opinion on fate he shows clearly in his poems (I. vi. 488):—
Dearest, wring not thus my heart, For till my day of destiny is come No man may take my life, and when it comes Nor brave, nor coward can escape that day.
But among the other things in which he confirms the power of fate, he thinks as the most-approved philosophers have thought after him,—Plato, Aristotle, and Theophrastus,—that not all things happen by fate, but some things are in the power of men, the choice of whom is free. The same man in a way acts as he desires and falls into what he does not desire. And this point of view he has clearly expounded in many places, as in the beginning of each of his poems: in the "Iliad" saying the wrath of Achilles was the cause of the destruction of the Greeks and that the will of Zeus was fulfilled; in the "Odyssey" that the comrades of Odysseus went to their destruction by their own folly. For they had offended by touching the sacred oxen of the Sun, although they could have abstained from doing so. Yet it was foreordained (O. xi. 110):—
But if thou hurtest them, I signify ruin for thy ships, and for thy men, and even though thou shalt thyself escape. If thou doest them no hurt and art careful to return, so may ye yet reach Ithaca, albeit in evil case.
So not to violate them depended on themselves, but that those who had done the evil should perish follows from fate.
It is possible to avoid what happens accidentally by foresight as he shows in the following (O. v. 436):—
Then of a truth would luckless Odysseus have perished beyond what was ordained had not gray-eyed Athene given him some counsel. He rushed in and with both his hands clutched the rock whereto he clung till the great wave went by.
Then on the other hand running a great danger as he was, he had perished by fortune; yet by prudence he was saved.
Just as about divine things there are many divine reasonings in the philosophers taking their origin from Homer, so also with human affairs it is the same. First we will take up the subject of the soul. The most noble of the doctrines of Pythagoras and Plato is that the soul is immortal. To it in his argument Plato affixed wings. Who first determined this? Homer says this among other things (I. xvi. 856):—
But the soul flying on its members came to Hades,—i.e. into a formless and invisible place, whether you think it in the air or under the earth. But in the "Iliad" he makes the soul of Patroclus stand by the side of Achilles (I. xxiii. 65):—
The soul of wretched Patroclus came.
He makes a small speech for him in which he says this (I. xxiii. 72):—
The spirits and spectres of departed men Drove me from them, nor allow to Cross the abhorred river.
In the "Odyssey" through the whole account of the descent to Hades what else does he show but that souls survive after death, and when they drink blood can speak. For he knows that blood is the food and drink of the spirit, but spirit is the same thing as soul or the vehicle of the soul.
123. Most clearly he reveals that he considers man is nothing else but soul, where he says (O. xi. 90):—
There came up the soul of the Theban Tiresias having a golden sceptre.
Purposely he changes the word for soul to the masculine, to show that it was Tiresias. And afterward (O. xi. 601):—
And after him I described the mighty Heracles, his phantom I say; but as for himself he hath joy at the banquet among the deathless gods.
For here again he showed that the semblance thrown off from the body appeared, but no longer connected with its matter. The purest part of the soul had gone away; this was Heracles himself.
124. Whence that seems to philosophers a probable theory that the body is in a way the prison house of the soul. And this Homer first revealed; that which belongs to the living he calls [Greek omitted] (from "binding") as in this line (I. i. 115):—
Not the body nor the nature.
O. iv. 196:—
A body came to the woman.
O. xvi. 251:—
By my form, my virtue, my body.
But that which has put off the soul he calls nothing else but body as in these lines (I. vii. 79):—
To bring home my body again.
And (O. xxiv. 187):—
The bodies lie uncared for in the hall of Odysseus.
O. xi. 53:—
And we left the body in the house of Circe.
For the same thing, while a man lives, was the bond of the soul; when he dies it is left, as it were, his monument.
To this is related also another doctrine of Pythagoras, namely, that the souls of the dead pass into other forms of bodies. This did not escape Homer's notice, for he made Hector talking with horses, and Antilochus and Achilles himself not only talking with them but listening to them, and a dog recognizing Odysseus before men, even before his intimates. What other thing is he establishing but a community of speech and a relation of soul between men and beasts? Besides, there are those who ate up the oxen of the Sun and after this fell into destruction. Does he not show that not only oxen but all other living creatures, as sharers of the same common nature, are beloved by the gods?
The change of the comrades of Odysseus into swine and that type of animal signifies this, that the souls of undeserving men are changed into the likeness of brute beasts; they fall into the circular periphery of the whole, which he calls Circe; whereas she is justly represented as the child of the Sun, dwelling in the island of Aeaea, for this word [Greek omitted] is so called because men lament and wail by reason of death. But the prudent man Odysseus did not suffer the change, because from Hermes, i.e. reason, he had received immortality. He went down into Hades, as it were, dissolving and separating the soul from the body, and became a spectator of souls both good and bad.
The Stoics define the soul as a cognate spirit, sensible to exhalations. It has its origin from the humid portions of the body. In this they follow Homer, who says (I. ix. 609).—
While the breath abides in the breast.
And again (I. xxiii. 100):—
Vanish'd like smoke, the spirit beneath the earth.
Here he makes the vital spirit, being humid, a breath; when it is extinguished he likens it to smoke. And the word "spirit" itself he uses for soul (I. xv. 262):—
His words fresh vigor in the chief infus'd.
And (I. iv. 524):—
Breathing away his spirit.
And (I. xxii. 475):—
But when her breath and spirit returned again.
That is, she collected her distracted spirit (I. v. 697):—
But soon revived, as on his forehead blew, While yet he gasped for breath, the cooling breeze.
While his spirit was failing him in a faint, the outside breeze having a natural affinity to it brought him back to life. This argument is strengthened because for the external spirit he uses the word "soul," saying (I. xxiii. 440):—
He turned aside with lightest breath.
He wishes to say: "Having got back his breath."
Plato and Aristotle considered the soul incorporeal, but always associating with the body and needing it as a vehicle. On this account, then, it drew along the spiritual matter with it, oftentimes as an image, which had the shape of the body impressed upon it. So therefore Homer is never in his poetry found calling the soul body, but to what is deprived of soul he always gives the name, as we have mentioned in what has gone before.
The soul has, according to the views of the philosophers, a rational part, seated in the head, and an irrational part of which one element, the passionate, dwells in the heart and another, the appetitive, in the intestines. Did not Homer see this distinction when he made in the case of Achilles, the rational struggling with the passionate, deliberating in the same moment whether he should drive off the one who had filled him with grief or should stay his anger (I. i. 193):—
Up to this time he revolved these things in his mind and heart,
that is, the intelligent part and what is opposed to it? The emotional anger is represented by him as overcome by prudence. For the appearance of Athene signifies this. And in these places he makes reason admonish the emotions, as a ruler giving orders to a subject (O. xx. 18):—
Endure my heart; yea, a baser thing thou once didst bear.
And often the passionate element gives way to reason (I. xx. 22):—
Pallas indeed sat silent and though inly wroth with Jove, yet answered not a word.
Likewise injury (I. xviii. 112):—
Though still my heart be sore, Yet will I school my angry spirit down.
Sometimes he shows the passionate element getting the better of reason. This he does not praise, but openly blames; as when Nestor speaks upbraiding the insult offered by Agamemnon to Achilles (I. ix. 108):—
Not by my advice I fain would have dissuaded thee; but thou, Swayed by the promptings of a lofty soul, Didst to our bravest wrong dishonoring him Whom ev'n the Immortals honor'd.
Achilles speaks like things to Ajax (I. ix. 645):—
All thou hast said hath semblance just and fair, But swells my heart with fury at the thought of him, Of Agamemnon, who, amid the Greeks Assembled, held me forth to scorn.
So, too, reason is paralysed by fear, where Hector deliberates whether he will abide the conflict with Achilles (I. xxii. 129):—
Better to dare the fight and know at once To whom Olympian Jove the triumph wills,
Then he withdraws when he gets near Achilles (I. xxii. 136):—
Nor dared he there await th' attack, but left The gates behind, and terror-stricken fled.
It is also plain that he places the emotions about the heart. Anger as (O. xx. 13):—
The heart within barked for him.
Grief (I. xiv. 128):—
How long, my son, wilt thou thy soul consume with grief an mourning?
Then fear (I. x. 95):—
And leaps my troubled heart as tho' it would burst My bosom's bounds; my limbs beneath me shake.
In the same way just as fear, so he declares daring to be about the heart (I. xvi. 11):—
And fix'd in every breast The fierce resolve to wage unwearied war.
From these passages the Stoics took the opinion that the leading element is about the heart. That the appetitive element is placed in the intestines in many places he declares; in these verses, for example (O. xviii. 54):—
But my belly's call is urgent on me, that evil worker,—
and (O. xvii. 286):—
But now may conceal a ravening belly, a thing accursed.
And the causes which belong to the passionate element of the soul he says happen by nature. For wrath created by grief he shows is a kind of effervescence of the blood and the spirit in it as in the following (I. i. 103):—
His dark soul filled with fury, and his eyes flashing like flames of fire.
For he seemed to call spirit [Greek omitted], i.e. wrath, and this in the case of those who are angry he thinks is extended and inflamed. Again the spirit, if there is fear, is perturbed and made cold, generates tremors and terrors and pallors in the body. Pallor, by the heat coursing into the interior ruddiness leaves the surface. Tremor, because being, confined within the spirit it shakes the body. Terror, because when the moisture is congealed the hairs are contracted and stand on end. All of these Homer clearly indicates when he says (I. xv. 4):—
Pallid from fear.
And (I. vii. 479):—
Pallid fear lay hold on him.
(I. x. 95):—
My valiant members tremble.
And (I. xxiv. 358):—
The old man heard, his mind confus'd with dread, So grievously he fear'd that every hair Upon his bended head did stand on end.
According to these passages for "feared" he says "frozen" and "fear" he calls "freezing." On the other hand, for "daring" and "courage" he uses [Greek omitted], "heat." Evil effects, he distinguishes in these ways.
Again when Aristotle considers indignation a mercy among the generous emotions (for when good men are stirred because their neighors seem to succeed beyond their worth, it is called indignation. When they, beyond their desert, have misfortunes, it is called pity.) These two Homer considers to belong, to the good, for he reckons them as belonging to Zeus. Other passages he has as well as the following (I. xi. 542):—
But Jove, high-throned, the soul of Ajax filled with fear.
And in other places he pities him being chased about the wall.
What opinion the poet had about virtue and vice he shows in many places. For since one part of the soul is intelligent and rational, and the other devoid of reason and open to emotions, and on this account man has a middle position between God and brute, he thinks the highest, virtue, is divine, and the other extremity, evil, is brutelike. Just as later on Aristotle thought, he adopts these principles in his companions. For he always considers good men to be like gods, and as he says (I. ii. 167):—
By a counsel not, unworthy of Zeus.
Among the evil ones he names cowards (I. xiii. 102):—
Like to timid stags,—
and to sheep without a shepherd and to hares in flight. About those borne headlong and heedlessly to anger (I. xvii. 20):—
Nor pard, nor lion, nor the forest boar, Fiercest of beasts, and provident of his strength In their own esteem With Panthous' sons for courage nor may vie.
The laments of those grieving to no purpose he compares to the sounds of birds (O. xvi. 218):—
Where Younglings the country folk have taken from the nest ere yet they are fledged.
The Stoics who place virtue in apathy follow the passages in which he takes up every feeling, saying about grief (I. xix. 218):—
Behoves us bury out of sight our dead, Steeling our heart and weeping but a day.
And (I. xvi. 7):—
Why weep over Patroclus as a girl?
About anger (I. xviii. 107):—
May strife perish from gods and men.
About fear (I. v. 252):—
Do not speak of fear, if thou thinkest to persuade me.
And (O. xv. 494):—
Struck and smitten seeing fate and death, he fell heroicly from the sword. So those challenged to single combat obey fearlessly, and several arise to take the place of one. And the wounded man has none the less abiding courage.
(I. xi. 388):—
And now because thy shaft has grazed my foot, thou mak'st thy empty boast.
And every valiant person is likened to a lion, boar, to a torrent and whirlwind.
Now the Peripatetics think that freedom from emotion is unattainable by men. They bring in a certain mean; by taking away excess of feeling, they define virtue by moderation. And Homer brings in the best men neither feeble nor altogether fearless nor devoid of pain, but yet differing from the worst in not being overcome extravagantly by their feelings. For he says (I. xiii. 279):—
The cowards color changes, nor his soul Within his heart its even balance keeps But changing still, from foot to foot he shifts, And in his bosom loudly beats his heart Expecting death; and chatter all his teeth. The brave man's color changes not with fear, He knows the ambush ent'ring.
For it is evident that by taking away excessive fear from the good man he leaves the mean between the two. The same must be thought about the like emotions, pain and anger. To this effect is that verse of his (I. vii. 215):—
The Trojans' limbs beneath them shrank with fear, E'en Hector's heart beat quicker in his breast, The others, even at the sight, trembled.
But he, in the midst of dangers being brave, was only troubled. So he makes Dolon and Lycaon feeling fear; Ajax and Menelaus, turning gradually and going away step by step, as lions driven from their quarry. In the same way he shows the differences of those who grieve and also of those who rejoice. As Odysseus, relating the way he deceived the Cyclops, says (O. ix. 413):—
My heart within me laughed.
The suitors seeing the beggar laying on the ground (O. xviii. 100):—
But the proud wooers threw up their hands, and cried outright for laughter.
But in more trivial matters the difference of moderation appears. Odysseus though loving his wife, and seeing her lamenting on his account, contains himself (O. xix. 211):—
His eyes kept steadfast between his eyelids as it were horn or iron.