secondly, of the improbability that there should have arisen, in the same age and country, two poetical geniuses of the very highest order, presenting such marked features of resemblance with one another, and both alike rising immeasurably above all who preceded, as well as all who followed them; so that their works have survived through all succeeding ages, like two mighty landmarks looming through the mists of antiquity as models of unapproachable excellence. To those who consider, with Mr. Grote, this improbability to be less than those which attend the contrary view of the question, we confess that we have no reply to ourselves, the difficulty of conceiving that the plan of one poem of such magnitude and such uniform excellence should have been imagined and carried out by the bard of a rude age, with the imperfect appliances which he could have possessed, is unquestionably great; but once admitting the possibility of this, and having the fact of such a poem before our eyes, it appears to us far easier to believe that the same extraordinary genius should have been capable of a second effort, than that all the conditions requisite to its production should have again been united in another individual.

In the able and elaborate analysis which Colonel Mure has given of all the leading properties of the Homeric style-by far the most complete and satisfactory review of the subject which we have ever met with- we, for the most part, entirely concur. We must, however, make a decided exception in regard to what he has termed the comic element' of Homer's style, -a characteristic to which he recurs upon various occasions, and to which he assigns such a prominence as will probably excite the surprise of most of his readers. Indeed, Colonel Mure himself is aware that he is here introducing, in great measure, a new element into Homeric criticism; and repeatedly expresses his wonder that so important a feature, of the Odyssey especially, should have been almost wholly overlooked by previous commentators. We believe the error of the commentators to have been, in this instance, shared by almost every reader in proportion to his discernment; and we must plead guilty to participating in that general blindness to the facetious element of the Homeric poems,' with which Colonel Mure reproaches all preceding critics. No one, of course, could fail to observe that both poems occasionally present images and descriptions of a ludicrous class. Such, for example, are the description of Thersites and his treatment by Ulysses in the second book of the Iliad, and the combat between Ulysses and Irus in the Odyssey. The scenes in the cave of Polyphemus, and the manner in which the ferocious but stupid giant is deluded by his crafty adversary,

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Episode of the Phæacians.

429

are a still stronger instance, and undoubtedly present an incongruous mixture of the ludicrous with the terrible. But, far from the effect of these scenes being enhanced by the humorous tone of the narration itself, we are convinced that most readers will have been struck with the very contrary; and will have perceived in the striking simplicity with which they are introduced, but little distinction made between them and the graver portions of the poem. Such we believe to be the character of all popular poetry of the narrative class; and we see in these occasional passages only a fresh proof of what we have already stated,— that the Homeric poems, with all their merit, retain the stamp of their having had their origin in a comparatively rude age, and that they are still essentially heroic ballads. Just in the same manner that we find the poem of the Cid relating, in almost precisely the same tone with the martial exploits of its hero, the crafty device by which he swindled two unfortunate Jews out of the money which he needed for his expedition.

But Colonel Mure is not satisfied with attaching what we must deem a very undue degree of importance to the occasional introduction of such ludicrous images and incidents as those referred to, but he assigns to his author a strong turn for satirical humour and for a sly and concealed irony-qualities which we regard essentially foreign to his genius, as well as to that of every people in a primitive and imperfect state of civilisation. It is especially in the episode of the Phæacians that Colonel Mure thinks he discovers these qualities; and he does not hesitate to pronounce the whole episode to be intended as a satire on the habits of some real people with whom the poet was familiar. With all deference for the judgment of a critic of great ability who has bestowed infinite study upon his author, we must venture to doubt the existence of any such intention.

The Phaacians are represented as a gay and luxurious people, inhabiting a sort of land of Cockaigne, where all their wants were abundantly provided for with little exertion on their part, and having therefore nothing to divert their attention from the pleasures of the moment; even their nautical enterprises, which formed their only serious occupation, being accomplished with superhuman facility. The whole delineation of their character appears to us strictly in keeping with this idea of their position; lively, careless, and good-humoured, open-handed and generous, hospitable and courteous, but vain and selfsufficient, and somewhat addicted to boasting,-although in regard to their skill in navigation it must be admitted that their vaunts were fully borne out by the result. Notwithstanding their self-conceit, we must confess ourselves utterly unable to

6

discover in it that humorous tone which Colonel Mure considers to pervade the whole description, or to see anything to justify the expressions of mock heroic,' and burlesque,' which he applies to some portions of it. Had this been the intention of the poet, we can conceive nothing more incongruous and illjudged than the admission-into such a picture of a portrait like that of Nausicaa, the beauty and delicacy of which is fully acknowledged by Colonel Mure.

'The dream of Nausicaa, the most charming of her nation and her sex, her conversation with her father, her descent with her maidens to wash the family linen at the river's mouth, the nymphish sports with which they enliven their task, and their encounter with Ulysses, offer a beautiful picture of the ancient simplicity of domestic manners, and of virgin innocence, vivacity, and tenderness.'* (Vol. i. p. 405.)

Surely such an exquisite picture, or rather succession of pictures, would have been a strange introduction to a series of scenes designed to be essentially satirical and burlesque. But even in the midst of the subsequent intercourse of Ulysses with the Phæacians themselves, and just where the boastful levity of their character is most prominently displayed, the poet has tempered the tone of the picture with admirable skill by the beautiful passage in which the young Phæacian Euryalus apologizes to the stranger for his previous insolence. Never, we believe, from that day to this, has an apology been tendered and accepted in terms of more genuine courtesy. There are few passages in the Homeric poems which we should cite as more striking examples of that innate refinement of feeling which stamps true good breeding, in every age and country; few in which we should have been less disposed to suspect anything of a burlesque or satirical character.

But if any

doubt could remain on our minds that the whole

Yet shortly afterwards (p. 411.), Colonel Mure expressly draws attention to the simile of the lion, introduced into this very passage as a 'specimen of the mock heroic,' and a 'travesty of the more dignified epical style.' There is undoubtedly something strange to our ideas in the simile in question; but not stranger than the comparison of Penelope to a lion in the fourth book (v. 791.), on occasion of which Colonel Mure adverts to the partiality of Homer for the lion as a source of figurative illustration. The simile in the present instance may be fully explained by that peculiarity of Homer in the use of such comparisons, elsewhere so ably discussed and developed by Colonel Mure himself, the enlargement of the simile beyond the actual point of resemblance. In this case the similarity consists only in the suffering from hunger and the inclemency of the weather, which drives Ulysses forth, just as it does the lion, the rest is all poetic ornament; the tail put on to it.

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Landing of Ulysses in Ithaca.

431

of this episode has been regarded by Colonel Mure from a false point of view, our hesitation would be removed at once by his concluding remarks.

The facetious spirit of the adventure (he tells us) is maintained to the close. Laden with compliments and presents, the hero embarks in the evening, in a galley expressly fitted out for his service. Before daybreak the ship reaches the coast of Ithaca, where he is conveyed gently from the deck, on his bed, by the waggish crew (!), and deposited fast asleep, together with his goods, on his native rocks. On awakening, he is at a loss to know where he is, when he is relieved from his embarrassment by the appearance of his divine patroness Minerva.'

That a critic of such taste and discernment as Colonel Mure should have been able to read the beautiful lines at the opening of the thirteenth book in which the nocturnal voyage of Ulysses is described, and associate with them any facetious import, is utterly inexplicable to us. Without going so far as Mr. Milnes, who, with a far truer conception of the poet's meaning, has pronounced the passage to be the most affecting in the whole Odyssey*, we have always felt that there was something singularly touching and beautiful in the idea of thus conveying to his home the man of many sorrows, after all the toils and perils he had encountered both in war and tempest, 'sleeping sweetly as a child forgetful of all that he had suffered.' No version can do justice to the exquisite sweetness of the original lines, and we trust that no reader of Homer will require to have them recalled to his memory.†

Memorials of a Tour in Greece, p. 29.

† It may seem unnecessary to seek any other reason for a poetical conception which afforded the opportunity of so beautiful a contrast: but if we must ask, with Nitzsch (upon whom Colonel Mure is, we think, in this instance very unjustly severe), why the Phæacians should have landed Ulysses in his sleep, the answer appears to us obvious. Besides the poetical necessity that Ulysses should arrive in his native land secretly and unobserved, the incident serves to keep up the peculiar veil of mystery thrown around the Phæacians and every thing connected with them. Welcker has very justly pointed out (Die Homerischen Phäachen, in his Kleine Schriften,' vol. ii. p. 1.) that Scheria and its inhabitants are not less essentially mythical than the Cyclopes or Laestrygones, the floating island of Eolus or the abode of Calypso. The Phæacians are indeed mere men in their ordinary ways of life, but we are continually reminded that there was something superhuman and mysterious about them they are nearly connected with the gods (ayxidot), and cousins of the Cyclopes and Giants: a mysterious prophecy, the fulfilment of which is left in uncertainty, foretold their total annihilation by the wrath of Neptune:

But strongly as we deprecate the attempt of Colonel Mure to impart a burlesque character to the beautiful episode of the Phæacians, we must protest still more earnestly against his forcing the same element into the loftier mechanism of the Iliad. The impropriety of some of the scenes represented in that poem as passing in the halls of Olympus, and especially how unbecoming the squabbles of Jupiter and Juno, was an objection early felt by the Greeks themselves. In their earnest desire at once to rescue the popular theology from the imputation of indecorum, and to maintain the credit of Homer, some of the philosophers had recourse to the allegorical system of interpretation; and regarded or affected to regard these descriptions as symbolical of physical phenomena, or involving a recondite ethical meaning.

All such attempts to vindicate the reputation of the poet, have been justly rejected by modern critics. But we are not the less surprised to find Colonel Mure resorting for the same purpose to the supposition that such passages are satirical, and designed by the poet himself to banter the extravagance of the 'popular theology.' Idle as we conceive the allegorical explanation to be, we confess that we should much prefer it to this new solution of the difficulty.

It strikes us as almost impossible, that in so rude a state of society, as that in which Homer must have flourished, he should have been so much in advance of the theology of his contemporaries, as to have regarded with contempt the notions commonly entertained by them of the divine nature and attributes; but it is still more incredible, even if he had entertained such views, that he should have ventured to express them. The poetry of Homer was thoroughly popular both in spirit and detail; it was addressed solely to his own countrymen and contemporaries; no thought of future critics, no appeal to the superior refinement of a distant age, can be supposed to have entered into the mind of the blind and wandering minstrel. To whom then should any such covert meaning and refined irony be addressed? If not adapted to the taste and feelings of his contemporaries, the pictures in question would have been felt by them, as they were felt by their successors, to be irre

-every thing appears designed to separate them from the domain of reality, and it was nothing but the most prosaic and pragmatical spirit that could identify them with the mere human inhabitants of Corcyra. The nocturnal voyage, -a thing wholly contrary to the ideas and practice of Greek navigators, and the landing the hero in his sleep, appear to us strictly in unison with this conception and necessary to keep up the veil of separation between the real and the imaginary.