where she clearly exercises a mitigating and favouring agency; and
this may probably be signified in nearly all. Even of the children of
Niobe[185] it may be meant, that they were thus gently removed, the
innocent causes of their mother’s pride; while she was reserved for
heavier punishment, and doomed to weep eternally in stone.
[185] Il. xxiv. 606. Laodamia is an exception: see Il. vi. 205.
In considering what may have been the early traditional source of these
remarkable attributes of the children of Latona, we should tread softly
and carefully, for we are on very sacred ground. But we seem to see in
them the traces of the form of One, who, as an all-conquering King, was
to be terrible and destructive to His enemies, but who was also, on
behalf of mankind, to take away the sting from Death, and to change its
iron band for a thread of silken slumber.
The share of Messianic tradition accorded in this particular province
to Minerva appears, as has already been observed, to consist in her
peculiar power within the realm of Aidoneus himself.
~_Independence of second causes._~
10. Lastly, we appear to find, that in the conduct of those operations
in which their power over Nature is exhibited, Minerva and Apollo are
not tied down, or at least are not tied down in the same degree with
the other deities generally, to the use of instruments or symbols.
We find that Neptune, when he has to inspire courage into the two
Ajaxes, strikes them, (Il. xiii. 59.) As an accompanying significant
act, of a nature tending by itself to produce the result, this greatly
weakens the force of the passage in proof of divine or extraordinary
power. In like manner, when the same divinity converts the ship of the
Phæacians into a rock, he drives it downward with his hand[186].
[186] Od. xiii. 164.
But Apollo performs no such outward act when he infuses courage into
Hector, or into Glaucus; or when he heals the wounds of the latter
chieftain[187].
[187] Il. xv. 262. xvi. 528-9.
So likewise, when Minerva alters the personal appearance of Telemachus,
Ulysses, Laertes, or Penelope, by improving it, she uses no sign or
ministrative act. Only when she effects an organic though partial
transformation in the case of Ulysses[188] does she strike him with
her wand: but then this total transformation is an exercise of power,
of which we have no other example among the Olympian deities. Again,
when Minerva finally endows the hero with heightened beauty of figure
and countenance, it is done without the use of any visible sign
whatever[189].
[188] Od. xiii. 429. xvi. 172, 455.
[189] Od. xxiii. 156-63.
This employment of instruments is, in fact, susceptible of two
significations. They may be, like the tokens of Jupiter, intended to
act upon the senses of men. But where they have not this meaning, there
is a decided tendency to convey the conception of the instrument as
being itself the power which the deity merely directs and applies. Thus
it is in the cestus of Venus and the wand of Mercury that the divine
energy resides[190], not less than it is in the herbs of Paieon and in
the fire of Vulcan. So that any exemption from the use of these symbols
is a sign of belonging to a high order of deity.
[190] Nägelsbach, i. 25.
~Superiority of their moral standard.~
We now approach the third and last division of this subject; namely,
those points of distinction which most essentially belong to the moral
tone and personal character of these two great divinities.
Their moral standard is conspicuously raised above that of the Olympian
family in general.
It partakes indeed, as we might expect, of taint. Each has begun to
give way; and each in the way adapted to their several relations with
man and woman’s nature respectively. Apollo’s character has just begun
to be touched by licentiousness: and the character of Minerva is not
above condescension to deceit.
She is nowhere, however, associated either directly or indirectly, in
word or act, with anything impure. The contest of beauty, in which
Paris was the judge, is mentioned by Homer[191]: but the notice, a very
succinct one, though not quite in keeping with her highest dignity,
does not imply any deviation from her elevated chastity. Neither of
Juno, nor of Thetis, can the same virtue be fully predicated: both of
them, though in different modes, are brought into immediate contact
with the subject of sensual passion.
[191] Il. xxiv. 27-30.
Pallas is, in truth, no less chaste than Diana: but her purity is
absorbed in the dazzling splendour of her august prerogatives, while it
is more observed in the Huntress-maid, because it is the most salient
and distinguished point in her character.
In the post-Homeric, but yet early, hymn to Venus, three beings alone
in the wide universe are declared to be exempt from her sway. One of
them is Hestie, who represents the impersonation of the marriage bond
and the family life, and whose exemption therefore testifies directly
to the nature of the dominion from which it frees her. The other two
privileged beings are Pallas and Diana[192].
[192] Hymn. ad Ven. 8, 16.
The character of Apollo in this respect is by some degrees less
elevated: for he is an enjoying spectator of the scene described by
the certainly licentious lay of Demodocus in the Eighth Odyssey, from
which the goddesses in a body absent themselves. In the legend, too,
of the Ninth Iliad we find that Apollo carried off the daughter of
Marpessa, afterwards named by her parents Alcyone: but this passage, we
shall see, is susceptible of an interpretation, which gives it another
construction, and one certainly far more agreeable to the general
character of this divinity. The epithet enjoyed by the Homeric Diana,
expressive of purity, is accorded by Æschylus[193] (whose accuracy and
truthfulness often recall those of Homer) to Apollo;
[193] Æsch. Suppl. 222.
ἁγνόν τ’ Ἀπόλλω φυγάδ’ ἀπ’ οὐρανοῦ θεόν.
And here the question arises, how did it happen that, while the element
of purity was strictly preserved in the tradition of the Wisdom, it was
lost in the twin tradition of the Seed of the woman?
The Wisdom naturally, when impersonated, assumed the feminine form.
Now the character of woman seems to be in itself better fenced against
impurity than that of man. Her comparatively dependent condition,
and the more direct operation of her failure in this respect on the
marriage tie through the disorganization of the family, have had a
further influence in giving an additional stringency to the ideas of
mankind with respect to her observance of this virtue; a stringency
not the less real, because it exemplifies the partial administration
of a law essentially just, nor because it has become rather less
conspicuous since the Gospel laid down with rigour, upon higher
grounds, one law for all. Thus it remained possible to conceive a
woman chaste, after the conditions of that idea had been almost lost
in connection with the standard of excellence in the other sex: and
this virtue, banished from the earth in general, still found here and
there, even down to the fœtid corruption of the time of Martial[194], a
last refuge in individual cases of untainted womanhood. This course of
thought and feeling is exemplified in the Minerva of the Olympian Court.
[194] Epigr. x. 63.
Yet the idea was not simply extinguished in the twin tradition, of
which Apollo is the chief representative. Submerged in him, a home is
found for it in the appropriate form of Diana as his sister. The power
and majesty of this form of the Messianic tradition fall chiefly to his
share: she retains what was then, to the shame of our race, thought
its less precious ingredient, freedom from sensual taint. Apollo would
have been its natural vehicle: but in him, for the reason that he was
a man, it was perhaps to the Greek mind inconceivable: a new vehicle
was either framed, or adapted, in order to carry it: the idea of the
great Deliverer that should be born was thus disintegrated, like other
traditions, and like other historical characters, which men could not
so readily embrace in their integrity.
As this is the first point in the discussion at which we have
encountered an actual instance of this disintegration, it may be well
to explain the meaning I attach to the term.
~_Disintegration of traditions._~
It seems indubitable, that moral combinations, which are intelligible
as well as credible to one age, may become incredible to another.
Just as there are individual men at every epoch, who cannot believe in
generosity and elevation of character, because they have in themselves
no mirror which can reflect such qualities; so a generation ruled
by more debased ideas cannot comprehend what another, influenced by
less impure tendencies, could readily embrace. On the same principle,
the Gospel gives not to the sagacious, but to the ‘pure in heart,’
the greatest triumph of mental vision, namely, that ‘they shall see
God[195].’
[195] St. Matt. v. 8.
Accordingly, when it happens that a tradition becomes unintelligible
to the mind of a given people, it is lost. It may be lost by the
disappearance even of its outward form and shell. Or it may be lost by
the alteration of its meaning while its words are retained. Or the work
of destruction may take another turn: it may be lost by being torn into
pieces; the effect being that one old tradition disappears, and more
than one partial substitute for it is created.
The highest fraud and the highest force appear to have been, according
to original tradition, joined in the Evil One: they were separated in
the Grecian forms of[196] that tradition. The Apollo of Homer was still
one, with a great diversity of gifts; but mythological solecisms were
already apparent in his character, like cracks in a stately building.
This, too, was settled by disintegration; and in the later mythology
there were many Apollos: other causes probably concurring to extend the
multiplying process.
[196] Inf. Sect. iii.
The same operation took effect upon the traditions of human character.
Homer, with the finest powers of light and shade, has represented Helen
as erring, and as penitent. The moral sense of later, less simple,
and more deeply corrupted, times became impervious to a balanced
conception of this kind. Accordingly, the one Helen was torn into two,
and supplied material both for the guilty Helen, or εἴδωλον of Helen,
at Troy, and for the innocent Helen detained in Egypt. In like manner,
it became a question, probably first when Athens had grown great, how
Minos could on the one hand be great and wise, and could on the other
have made war and imposed tribute upon Attica. Hence the fable of two
Minoses[197]: so that those who venerated the ancient traditions of
Crete might still be allowed to cherish their pious sentiment, while,
upon the other hand, the Athenian dramatists might exercise a fertile
imagination in inventing circumstances of horror for the biography of
the piratical enemy of their country.
[197] Höck’s Creta, vol. ii.
It was, I conceive, an early example of this disintegration, which
divided between Apollo and Diana different members of a primitive
Messianic tradition. And, when we again combine the two personalities
of the brother and the sister in one, the tradition resumes its
completeness and roundness.
It is likely that the same mental process, which thus deposited the
element of chastity in the person of the comparatively feeble Diana,
also conferred on her the figure of the Huntress-Queen. For thus she
lived in seclusion from the ways and haunts of man: and it was only by
seclusion that she could be kept in maiden innocence.
But although the logical turn of the Greek mind soon came to place
Apollo in morally disadvantageous contrast, under this particular head,
both with his sister and with Pallas, he may be favourably compared
with the other Homeric gods. There is something in the tradition that
he was unshorn (ἀκερσεκόμης), which is evidently intended to connect
him with the innocence of youth. And in Homer, unless it be by the
legend of the Ninth Iliad, he is unharmed by connection with any of
those relations which assign to Jupiter, Neptune, Mars, and Mercury,
human children as the fruit of their indulgence.
~_Legend of Marpessa._~
The reasons which lead me to suppose that the legend of Marpessa is not
of a sensual character are these. The words used are[198];
[198] Il. ix. 564.
ὅτε μιν ἑκάεργος ἀνήρπασε Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων.
Now none of the numerous intrigues of the mythical deities with women
include violence: they always appear, so far as the language used
gives them a specific character, to have been voluntarily accepted
connections[199]. It was not likely that the case of Apollo should have
been the exception. Again, they are always mentioned as having led
to the birth of children: but there is no such mention in this case,
and Apollo has no human progeny. Lastly, the word used does not mean
_ravished_, but _seized and carried up_. It nearly corresponds with the
expression in the case of Ganymede[200],
[199] Il. ii. 513; xvi. 184, and other cases.
[200] Il. xx. 234.
τὸν καὶ ἀνηρείψαντο θεοὶ Διὶ οἰνοχοεύειν,
and it may have been either a case of translation, or one in which the
maid was conceived to have been taken for the service of the deity,
perhaps at the neighbouring shrine of Delphi.
After the part which the lay of Demodocus assigns to him, the most,
perhaps the only, discreditable transaction assigned to Apollo in
the poems is the manner in which he disarms and partially disables
Patroclus. Nothing can be more wretched than his operations on this
occasion. The god comes up to the hero enveloped in cloud; strikes him
from behind on the back; and knocks off his armour. I can conceive
but one explanation for this singular passage, which appears alike
unsatisfactory from a poetical and from a mythological point of view.
That explanation I think is to be sought in intense nationality.
The main purpose of the poem required the sacrifice of a principal
Greek hero: but no genuine Greek hero could be killed by fair means,
therefore it was necessary to dispose of him by such as were foul. It
is perhaps also worth remark that the audacity of Patroclus in pushing
on to the city may perhaps have rendered him punishable (Il. xvi.
698-711).
It is remarkable, however, that the character of each of the two great
traditive deities had begun to give way to corruption, and each in
the point at which, according to the respective sex, its yielding
might have been anticipated. As unchastity is more readily pardoned,
according to social usage, in the man, so is deceit in the woman. And
in this point the standard had already fallen for Minerva.
Of this we have one most clear indication, in her being commissioned
to undertake the charge of inciting Pandarus to a very black act of
treachery, the breach of the Pact. So far from being unwilling in this
matter, she was even eager[201];
[201] Il. iv. 73.
ὣς εἰπὼν ὤτρυνε πάρος μεμαυῖαν Ἀθήνην.
Besides judgment and industrial skill, she gave κέρδεα to
Penelope[202]: and she describes herself[203] as excelling among the
gods in craft as well as counsel;
[202] Od. ii. 117.
[203] Od. xiii. 299.
μήτι τε κλέομαι καὶ κέρδεσιν.
With the exception of this initial tendency to degenerate on the side
of craft, we may say with truth that the highest moral tone, both of
speech and action, is reserved for Minerva in particular throughout
the poems, whether in the Olympian Court, or in her intercourse with
men. Alike in the Iliad and the Odyssey, her counsel, which prevails,
undoubtedly also deserves to prevail. She is in both the champion of
the righteous cause. And when she states for the second time the case
of Ulysses before the assembled gods, it is not now as before his
liberality in sacrifice that she pleads, but, as a last resort, she
makes bold to urge the bad moral effect which will result, if they
discourage virtue by permitting the ruin of this excellent man[204].
[204] Od. v. 7.
~_Their place in Providential Government._~
2. It is in conformity with the expectations, which the superior
morality of Apollo and Minerva tends to raise, that we find them
occupying a position such as is accorded to no other deity in the
Providential government both of the human mind and will, and likewise
of the course of events external to it.
The origin of this position may, as I conceive, be found in the
traditions which they inherit, and according to which they would
naturally be exhibited as the administrators of the government of the
world, on behalf, if I may so speak, of the Godhead.
But there were, among the inborn tendencies of polytheism, two at
least which powerfully tended to give to these divinities a position
not only associated with that of Jupiter, but on the one hand more
palpable and practical, and on the other of higher moral elevation.
These were the tendencies which, among the incidents of his supremacy,
on the one hand, blessed him with personal repose, and, on the other,
endowed him with unbounded appetite. The first, by making Apollo and
Minerva, as his organs, the practical governors of the world, tended
to increase their importance at the expense of his, and the second
gave them a moral title as it were to gain ground upon him. In the
time of Homer this process was considerably advanced; so that while
they seem to share with Jupiter the office of general direction, which
they hold subject to his control, it falls to one of them, to Minerva
especially, to conduct the highest of all the divine processes in the
administration of moral discipline, and in the exercise of influence
over the human soul.
In the war before Troy, what is done by Juno or by Neptune is commonly
done in the way of unauthorized, or even of forbidden, interference.
In this, Minerva shares: for she has a less perfect conformity of
will with that of Jupiter than Apollo, though she has a more profound
moral resemblance of character to the ideal, from which the Homeric
Jupiter was a depravation. Of the action before Troy, however, as a
whole, thus much remains true: that, when the will of Jupiter is to be
wrought out in favour of the Greeks, it is done entirely by Minerva,
and when in favour of the Trojans it is done entirely by Apollo. Each
therefore appears as the proper minister of Jupiter, when willing, for
conducting the government of mankind. One of them is always willing:
and though the other is not equally acquiescent, still it is the view
of the case taken by her, in common with other gods more weighty than
numerous, to which Jupiter ultimately gives way. Thus we may discern,
graven as it were upon the relation between themselves and Jupiter,
the mark which shows that it was originally derived from the office
of Him, ‘by whom God made the worlds[205].’ Scarcely ever do we find
Homer deviate from the general rule which exhibits them as the ordinary
Providence of the world for governing the detail of life. There is, I
think, but one part of the Iliad which exhibits to us any considerable
assumption of this function by Jupiter himself. It is during the latter
part of the day which was to be closed by a sunset fatal to Hector,
that, besides sending forth Apollo with the blinding Ægis, he himself
descends to such acts of minute interference as breaking the bowstring
of Teucer[206].
[205] Heb. i. 2.
[206] Il. xv. 463.
~_It is frequently ascribed to them._~
Regarded from without, these two deities appear to us as frequently
receiving from men the ascriptions of Divine Providence.
The idea of Divine Providence is frequently expressed by Homer under
the names θεὸς, θεοὶ, ἀθάνατοι, δαίμων. It is also often conveyed by
the name Jupiter alone, or by such an expression as ‘Jupiter and the
other immortal gods,’ in which he appears at their head. In one place
of the Odyssey, though only one, the day being the festival of Apollo,
this very extraordinary distinction is assigned to him: and the τις of
the Suitors thus places him at the head of the Olympian company[207];
[207] Od. xxi. 364.
εἴ κεν Ἀπόλλων
ἡμῖν ἱλήκῃσι καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι.
Sometimes mortal men look to one of these deities for success in
their enterprises, even without naming Jupiter: sometimes that name
is conjoined with one of theirs. Apollo himself, appearing to Hector
in the form of Asius his uncle, exhorts that chieftain to attack
Patroclus, ‘in the hope that Apollo may give him success[208].’
Presently, Patroclus, dying, attributes Hector’s victory to Jupiter and
Apollo, his own death to Apollo and Μοῖρα[209]; Apollo, says Xanthus
the immortal horse, slew Patroclus, and gave glory to Hector[210]. This
cannot well apply to the direct agency of the god in the matter, as he
only disarmed the Greek hero. Again, when Patroclus is slain, Minerva
takes no part in the proceedings. When Hector is about to be vanquished
Apollo retires, and Minerva straightway appears upon the field[211]. In
the Doloneia, Ulysses and Diomed succeed, because Jupiter and Minerva
befriend them[212]. Minerva rejoices, when she finds her name invoked
first of all the gods[213]: and she instructs Laertes to call upon
Jupiter with herself, assuming for her own name the first place;
[208] Il. xvi. 715.
[209] Ibid. 845.
[210] Il. xix. 413.
[211] Il. xxii. 209-14.
[212] Il. x. 552-3. Comp. xi. 736.
[213] Cf. Il. x. 462.
εὐξάμενος κούρῃ Γλαυκώπιδι καὶ Διὶ πατρί[214].
[214] Od. xxiv. 518.
Agamemnon feels that he is certain to take Troy, if only Jupiter and
Minerva will it[215]. Ulysses expects to slay the Suitors ‘by the
favour of Jupiter and Minerva[216].’ But in fact, the whole scheme of
divine retribution, of which that hero is the organ, was planned by
Minerva and not by Jupiter, as is twice declared to us from his own
lips[217]. I must not, however, omit to notice one passage of peculiar
grandeur, in which Jupiter and Minerva are combined, as joint arbiters
of great events. In the Sixteenth Odyssey, Telemachus exhorts his
father, amid their gloomy and doubtful prospects, to bethink him of
obtaining some ally. He nobly replies as follows: ‘I will tell you, and
do you answer me and say, whether Athene with Zeus her father will not
suffice for us, or whether I shall study to find some other defender.’
The rejoinder of Telemachus is in the same exalted strain. ‘Yes, these
are good, though they be afar off, sitting on high; for they prevail
over all others, whether they be men, or whether they be immortal
gods[218].’
[215] Il. viii. 287.
[216] Od. xx. 42.
[217] Od. v. 23. xxiv. 479.
[218] Od. xvi. 256-61, 262-5.
~_Especially in the highest sense to Minerva._~
It should be observed, that they are not the lower and more external
forms of providential action which devolve on Minerva, with a
reservation of the higher parts to Jupiter. On the contrary, in what
we may call external and wholesale Providence, Jupiter is supreme;
and in the conflict between Ulysses and the Ithacan rebels, as well
as in various passages of the Iliad relating to external action,
Jupiter interposes to check her eager spirit. In the last Odyssey she
asks his designs. He recommends a pacification. She thereupon exhorts
and assists old Laertes to begin the battle. At length a thunderbolt
descends from Jupiter, and it falls at Minerva’s feet. She then
interposes to make peace[219].
[219] Od. xxiv. 472-86, 515-41.
Thus it is in battle and matters of the strong hand: but the higher and
deeper forms of providential action appear to be unheeded by Jupiter,
and to fall to the lot of these two deities, more particularly of
Minerva.
In the Odyssey, one of the Suitors, Amphinomus, better minded than
the rest, anticipates evil at an early juncture, and is disposed to
take the advice given him by Ulysses, that he should quit the palace,
and return home. But he did not even now, says the Poet, escape
doom: for Minerva fettered him, that he should fall beneath the hand
of Telemachus[220]. And further, she works inwardly on the minds of
the Suitors, ‘not suffering them,’ such is the remarkable phrase, ‘to
abstain from their biting insolence:’ so that pain might yet more
deeply pierce the soul of Ulysses[221]:
[220] Od. xviii. 151-7.
[221] Od. xviii. 346.
μνηστῆρας δ’ οὐ πάμπαν ἀγήνορας εἴα Ἀθήνη
λώβης ἴσχεσθαι θυμαλγέος, ὄφρ’ ἔτι μᾶλλον
δύη ἄχος κραδίην Λαερτιάδην Ὀδυσῆα.