to the exercise of power over nature or the human mind, that it
is confined to matters in immediate connection with their several
specialties. Two extraordinary acts of power over nature appear,
however, to be within the competency of them all. One is the production
of a patch of cloud or vapour at will; the other is that of assuming
the human form for themselves, either generally or in the likeness of
some particular person. I do not, however, recollect any instance in
which this power is exercised by a deity of invention in the manner
in which Minerva employs it in the First Iliad[697], that is, under
the condition of being visible only to one person out of many who are
present. In that image we seem to find a figure, perhaps a traditionary
remnant, of that inward and personal communication between the Almighty
and the individual soul, which constitutes a high distinguishing note
of the true religion.
[697] Il. v. 198.
There would appear to have been certain visible marks which went to
distinguish a god, up to a certain point, from men. Hector in the
Fifteenth Iliad knows Apollo to be a god[698], but does not know what
god. Minerva clears the vision of Diomed, that he may be able to
discriminate between gods and men[699]. Pandarus, eyeing Diomed, is
uncertain whether he is a mortal or a god[700]. The recognition of
Venus by Helen may, indeed, have been due to the imperfectness of her
power of self-transformation[701]; but it may also have been owing
to these general traces of resemblance to the divine order, which
subsisted even under the human disguise.
[698] Il. xv. 246.
[699] Il. v. 128.
[700] Il. v. 183.
[701] Il. iii. 396.
Homer represents Minerva as weighing down the chariot of Diomed, and
making the axle creak[702];
[702] Ibid. 838.
μέγα δ’ ἔβραχε φήγινος ἄξων
βριθοσύνῃ· δεινὴν γὰρ ἄγεν θεὸν, ἄνδρα τ’ ἄριστον.
This passage may be taken as a proof, since it applies to the most
spiritual of the Homeric divinities, how far the Poet was from
considering that they were endowed with the properties of pure spirit.
~_Parts of the body, how ascribed._~
Of this he has given us farther proof by his free and constant
reference, wherever occasion serves, to the parts and organs of the
body as appertaining to the gods.
I think that references of this kind in Holy Scripture usually bear
a mark, which yields decisive witness to the fact that their use is
wholly relative and analogical: as, for example, the eye of God,
namely, the instrument by which He watches us, the mouth of God,
by which He instructs us, the hand and the arm of God, by which
He sustains, or delivers, or corrects, or crushes us. It does not
therefore appear that we could justly and fully draw our conclusions
as to the corporeal constitution of an Olympic deity from the mere
circumstance that we are told of the knees or lap of the gods, by which
it might be figuratively expressed, that the disposal of human affairs
rests with them[703]; or because of that gorgeous description, which
the Poet has given us, of the head and nod, meaning the decree of
Jupiter. For all these allusions are capable of explanation on the same
principle with those of Holy Scripture, namely, as being relative and
explanatory to man.
[703] Mure, however, in his History of Greek Literature, refers the
origin of the metaphor to the practice of representation by statues.
But he has a multitude of other references to parts of the body, which
do not at all belong to the use of them as organs for communication
with the imperfect apprehensions of mankind. Thus:
1. Thetis takes hold of the chin of Jupiter, Il. i. 501.
2. Diomed wounds Venus on the wrist, Il. v. 336.
3. And Mars in the abdomen, Il. v. 857; whom Minerva likewise
overthrows by a blow on the neck, Il. xxi. 406.
4. Hercules wounds Juno in the right breast, Il. v. 393; and we have
her hair, flesh, chest, and feet, in the toilette of Il. xiv. 170-86.
5. Helen discovers the neck and breast as well as eyes of Venus, Il.
iii. 396. See Il. xxi. 424.
6. The legs of Vulcan are weak, his neck strong, and his chest shaggy,
Il. xviii. 411-15.
7. Mercury attaches wings to his feet, Od. v.
8. Juno seizes the wrists of Diana, takes the bow and arrows from her
back, and beats her about the ears, Il. xxi. 489-91.
9. The arrows rattle on the shoulder of Apollo, Il. i. 46.
10. The arming of Minerva introduces her shoulders, head, and feet, Il.
v. 738-45.
We need not, however, be surprised at failing to find in Homer any
conception approaching to that of pure spirit, or any thing resembling
that refined discernment, which has led Christian Art to represent the
figure of our Lord alone as self-poised and self-supported in the air,
while all other human forms, even when transfigured, have a ground
beneath their feet, though it be but made of cloud. Even in some of the
very highest among Christian writers, such as Dante and St. Bernard,
the human being, after the soul has gone through dismissal from the
flesh, still appears to be invested with a lighter form and species of
body, apparently on the assumption that the two elements of matter and
spirit are not only essentially, but inseparably wedded in our nature.
~_Examples of miracle in Homer._~
Full as they are of preternatural signs and operations, the poems of
Homer do not, nevertheless, deal much with miracle, with the specific
purpose of which he had no concern.
By miracle I understand, speaking generally, not the mere use of the
common natural powers, accumulated or enlarged, but an operation
involving what, I suppose, would be called medically an organic
departure from her customary laws: an operation too, which must
absolutely be performed, upon man himself or some other object, after
some manner which shall be appreciable in its results by his faculties,
and calculated to satisfy them, when in their greatest vigilance, that
it is a real experience, and not a mere delusion of the senses.
Thus understood, the miracles of Homer are, I think, scarcely more
numerous than the following: for, under this definition, the ambrosia
of Simois and the flowers of Ida are not miracles[704].
[704] Il. v. 777. xiv. 347.
1. The crawling and lowing of the oxen of the Sun after their death,
Od. xii. 395, 6.
2. The acceleration of the Sunset, Il. xviii. 239.
3. The retardation of the dawn, Od. xxiii. 241.
4. The speaking horse, Il. xix. 407.
3. The εἴδωλον of Æneas, Il. v. 449.
6. The portents of the banquet night in Od. xx. 347-62. I feel some
doubt, however, whether this is objective, or whether it is only an
impression on the senses.
7. The transformation and re-transformation of Ulysses[705], Od. xiii.
398, 429, and xxiii. 156-63.
[705] Nägelsbach, i. 10. p. 25.
8. Perhaps, also, the εἴδωλον of Iphthime, Od. ix. 797.
9. The gouts of blood, shed down from the air by Jupiter, Il. xi. 53.
10. The transformation of the serpent into a stone in the sight of all
the Greeks; ἡμεῖς δ’ ἑσταότες θαυμάζομεν οἷον ἐτύχθη, Il. ii. 320.
The first seems due to the divine power as a whole; the second and
fourth to Juno; the third and seventh and eighth to Minerva; the fifth
and sixth are the works of Apollo; the ninth and tenth of Jupiter. I do
not add as an eleventh the conversion of the Phæacian ship into a rock,
by Neptune, in the sight of the people; because this is rather of the
class of marvels which appertained to other, even secondary gods, such
as Vulcan, in their own particular domains, Od. xiii. 159-87.
The buoyant arms of Achilles (Il. xix. 386), and other works of Vulcan,
might at first sight seem to belong to the list, but it is doubtful
whether they are not poetical rather than mythological representations,
and in any case they would appear as gifts strictly professional,
exercised in the ordinary administration of his peculiar function.
Telemachus appears to recognise the existence of miraculous powers in
the passage[706],
[706] Od. xvi. 196.
οὐ γάρ πως ἂν θνητὸς ἀνὴρ τάδε μηχανόῳτο
ᾧ αὐτοῦ γε νόῳ, ὅτε μὴ θεὸς αὐτὸς ἐπελθὼν
ῥηϊδίως ἐθέλων θήσει νεὸν ἠὲ γέροντα.
But this is spoken of the Godhead rather than of any particular deity,
and cannot by Homeric analogy be applied except to those of the highest
natures.
~_Their operation on the human mind._~
It will however be observed, that several of these prodigies are not
stated to have challenged human observation when performed: and unless
they submit themselves to the test of the senses they are not properly
miracles at all. Others of them entirely comply with the condition, as
especially that of Il. ii. 320.
The retardation of sunset and sunrise, and the rain of blood, appear
to pass wholly unobserved. Prodigies not setting out from a basis in
nature, such as the tears of blood shed by Jupiter[707], are wholly
beyond the scope of these observations.
[707] Il. xvi. 459.
On the whole, we find stringent limitation prevailing in this province,
as regards the majority of the gods.
Indeed the forces of nature, which the mythological divinities in part
represent, were sometimes too strong for them: for Homer tells us that
Notus and Zephyr[708] sometimes shatter vessels at sea without or
against the will of the gods:
[708] Od. xii. 290.
θεῶν ἀέκητι ἀνάκτων.
Even man, and that without impiety, can occasionally think of
resistance. When Menelaus, alone in the field, decides on retiring
before Hector (who fights ἐκ θεόφιν), rather than contend πρὸς δαίμονα,
he looks around for Ajax, and observes that, could he but see him, they
two would fight καὶ πρὸς δαίμονά περ, even with the deity opposed to
them, in order to recover the body of Patroclus[709].
[709] Il. xvii. 98-101.
There is, however, I think, another reason, besides feebleness in his
conception of the gods, which prevents the Greek Poet from representing
them as omnipotent in regard to the operations of the human mind; and
that is, his profound sense of the free agency of man. This principle
with him, as it were, confronts the deity on every side; who respects
its dignity, and never really invades its sphere, but pursues his work
by means compatible with its essential character. The idea of the deity
pervading the poems is mainly that of a cooperative power, who helps
us when and as we help ourselves. It is expressed with an unrivalled
simplicity when Telemachus, coming as a young man into the presence of
Nestor, feels oppressed with a nervous shyness; and Minerva encourages
him by telling him that he can of himself find something to say, and
that the divinity will prompt more to him[710],
[710] Od. iii. 26.
ἄλλα μὲν αὐτὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶ σῇσι νοήσεις,
ἄλλα δὲ καὶ δαίμων ὑποθήσεται.
Heavenly influence never overpowers or suppresses the will, but
sometimes suggests thoughts to the mind, and sometimes diverts it,
not perhaps from the thought of an object already perceived, but from
the chance of perceiving it. Thus, when Euryclea, through surprise
on beholding the scar, and so recognising Ulysses, oversets the
foot-bath, Penelope, who is present, might naturally have observed the
miscarriage; but Minerva interposes to abstract her attention from what
was passing, lest she should recognise her husband prematurely:
ἡ δ’ οὔτ’ ἀθρῆσαι δύνατ’ ἀντίη, οὔτε νοῆσαι,
τῇ γὰρ Ἀθηναίη νόον ἔτραπεν[711].
[711] Od. xix. 478.
With the exception of Juno, who in some sense reflects the majesty of
Jupiter, and becomes entitled as a wife to handle his prerogatives, it
may be stated generally respecting the deities of invention properly so
called, that, except within the limits of their particular domain or
office, they scarcely at all modify the laws of nature, never set in
motion or direct her greater forces, nor act in an extraordinary manner
on the mind or body of man. Each in his own province can stimulate a
particular animal propensity, or improve a particular gift of mind or
body: and that is all.
While therefore the strength of the Olympian deities lies in knowledge
and in power, we find upon the whole that even in these particularly
they are subject to manifold limitation. They could translate mortals
out of this world in which the rule of Death prevails, as we see in
the cases of Ganymede, and of Tithonus; but it does not appear that,
if we except the traditive ideas represented in Minerva and Apollo,
they could either raise men from the grave, prevent their dying in
the course of nature, heal their wounds or diseases, or set their
broken limbs. When even Latona and Diana heal Æneas[712], they do it
apparently with greater speed indeed, but in other respects much as it
would have been done by Podaleirius or Machaon.
[712] Il. v. 488.
~_They do not discern the thoughts._~
Nor, again, does it appear that even the most exalted of their number
had the knowledge of inward thoughts, otherwise than as they may be
discovered by persons of particular sagacity. When Minerva detects the
false accounts given of himself by Ulysses[713], no more is declared
than the simple fact that she has a sufficient knowledge of his
personal identity. Hence, with respect to the fraud of Laomedon upon
Neptune and Apollo, Saint Augustine sarcastically wonders that even
Apollo the diviner should not have known that Laomedon meant to cheat
him[714]; and that one of such dignity as Neptune should have been
in a like state of ignorance. With this we may compare the taunts of
Elijah[715] against the priests of Baal.
[713] Od. xiii. 291.
[714] De Civ. Dei, iii. 2.
[715] 1 Kings xviii. 27.
While, then, the gift of anything like general foreknowledge appears to
be withheld from all the deities of invention, that of the ‘discerner
of the thoughts and intents of the heart,’ is nowhere found; nor was
it believed of any member of the Olympian community, as it was said of
One greater than they[716]: ‘He knew all men; and needed not that any
should testify of man, for he knew what was in man.’
[716] John ii. 24, 25.
Such, as far as I am able to present it, is the internal view of the
Olympus of Homer: a scheme eminently national, and eminently poetical.
Egypt, Persia, Phœnicia, the old Pelasgians, doubtless contributed
materials towards its formation: but I have a lively conviction that
Homer was (so to speak) the theo-mythologer who moulded these materials
into system, the substitute for unity, invested them with the forms and
colours of brilliant beauty, and gave them their hold in their historic
shape upon the mind of his countrymen; with the sublime Olympus, so
near the old Dodona, of which he probably contrived it as the rival,
for their centre of life and power.
SECT. VI.
_The Olympian Community and its Members, considered in their influence
on human society and conduct._
We have thus far considered the deities of Homer as they are, or are
represented by him to be, in themselves individually, and in their
mutual relations. We have now to consider the relation which subsisted
between them and the race of man, especially on its human side; the
state of religious sentiment and obligation, and of the moral law,
both as towards heaven and likewise as between man and man, so far as
it is immediately associated with the system of which they are the
representatives. Another large part of morals, which was already in
great part detached from visible relation to religion, will remain for
separate consideration.
And here we may remark, that the Homeric Greeks apparently knew nothing
of any periodical religious observance of commanding authority, such
as to form a centre either for national union, or for the life of
the individual. Had there been such an observance, we must, without
doubt, have found a trace of it on the Shield of Achilles. The only
festival, of which we have clear information, is that of Apollo in the
Odyssey, on the first day of the month. More obscurely, one of Minerva
appears to be indicated in Il. ii. 551. No religious worship, properly
to be so called, accompanied the funeral of Patroclus, or the games
which followed it. The Winds[717] were called in aid for a special
purpose. The invocation of Spercheus[718] is an apology for devoting
to Patroclus the hair which Peleus had, on his son’s behalf, vowed to
that River-god. Neither is there any notice whatever of religion in the
brief summary of the proceedings in Troy after the ransom of the corpse
of Hector[719].
[717] Il. xxiii. 194.
[718] Ibid. 144.
[719] Il. xxiv. 788-800.
But although not sustained or organized by the self-acting machinery
of periodical celebrations, nor by the appropriation of the services
of a particular class of society, the life, thoughts, and actions of
the better Greeks were in a close and pervading proximity, so to speak,
to their religion. I say of the better Greeks; for there is an almost
total absence of reference to the gods in the language, as well as in
the actions, of the profligate Suitors of the Odyssey. When it first
appears, it is ironical[720]: and only in the last distress does it
assume any other character.
[720] Od. xviii. 37.
In general terms, every thing was ascribed to the gods. They know all
things, θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα ἴσασιν[721]: They can do every thing, θεοὶ
δέ τε πάντα δύνανται[722]; and δύναται γὰρ ἅπαντα[723] is said of
Jupiter, in the character of Providence. They are the givers of all
blessings, mental as well as corporal[724]; the disposers of events;
the ordainers, or even authors of calamities. They are said also to
do for us what we ourselves have done for ourselves; as where Ulysses
tells Eumæus, that the gods broke his bonds, and the gods hid him[725];
acts which he himself had performed. Also what they effect, they
commonly effect with ease, as in both the last-mentioned cases.
[721] Od. x. 306.
[722] Od. iv. 379, 468.
[723] Ibid. 237.
[724] Od. xxiii. 11. This is fully set forth in Nägelsbach, i. 33, p.
54 _et seqq._
[725] Od. xiv. 348, 57.
~_The Religion was still a real power._~
However faulty, and however feeble, the religion of the Greeks had not
yet ceased to be a religion; for it was believed in. Men might resent
or fear the communications made to them on the part of the deity; but
they did not venture to repudiate their authority.
In Homer, except with the dissolute Suitors, (Od. ii. 180, 201.)
the Seer stands as the faithful exponent of the will of Heaven; and
Agamemnon, even when smarting under the declarations of Calchas, and
reviling him accordingly in his individual capacity (i. 106), does not
presume to intimate any suspicion that what he has said is of his own
invention. But time passed on: corruption accumulated, and festered
more and more. Accordingly in Euripides, Agamemnon and Menelaus seem
to speak of the whole class of prophets as if they deserved no belief.
See the Iphigenia in Aulis, v. 10, 11. So in the same play, vv. 783-9,
the Chorus speaks of the birth of Helen from Leda and Jupiter, with the
proviso, ‘whether it were true or whether fabulous.’
Again, we have in the same play, vv. 945-7:
τίς δὲ μάντις ἔστ’; ἀνὴρ
ὃς ὀλίγ’ ἀληθῆ, πολλὰ δὲ ψευδῆ, λέγει,
τυχών· ὅταν δὲ μὴ τύχῃ, διοίχεται.
The mind of man had travelled far onward in its career, and great
changes had passed upon his moral tone, before the place of the
Prophet, in the estimation of the public, could be so strikingly
reversed as we find from these quotations.
In the Homeric age, religion was a real power; and the veneration paid
to deity extended so far, at least, to the persons of its ministers,
that scarce any human thought could conceive the possibility of their
falsifying the awful communications of which they were the vehicles.
But it will be replied, if religion was a power, if whatever it covered
with its mantle was accepted and held in honour, then what a deluge
of corruption must have spread over Greece from a religion of which
Jupiter was the head, and which had Venus for one of its recognised
divinities!
Now the age of Homer shows us the religion of Olympus in a state, in
which it had not yet become sufficiently the object of scrutiny to
suggest, on a large scale, either the depraved imitation which was to
be its too speedy result, or the unbelief which formed, in the moral
chain of cause and effect, its necessary consummation.
~_Corruptions of the gods not yet fully felt._~
In fact, we do not find that the corrupting influence of the Greek
mythology on manners had been fully felt in the time of Homer. Though
vices are in particular cases represented as the gifts of particular
deities to particular individuals, it does not appear that these were
yet regarded as examples for general imitation[726]. But the beginnings
of mischief, so vigorous and abundant, did not fail in time to produce
their fruit: and in the historic ages of Greece, the models supplied by
the conduct of deities were freely pleaded in defence of debauchery and
crime[727].
[726] Nägelsbach, Hom. Theol. on the case of Autolycus.
[727] Döllinger, Heid. u. Jud. v. i. p. 255. Plato Legg. i. p. 636.
This is in conformity with ordinary experience. The vices of the great
are first passed by, as if it were profane to suffer the eye to rest
upon them; then they are regarded for a time with depraved admiration;
and when the last stage is reached, they are too faithfully copied by
the small.
It was hardly possible that men could be effectually swayed for
a length of time by the moral government of deities, themselves
privileged by human invention for unbounded immorality: but it was
naturally the first stage of the destructive process to vitiate the
character of the gods, and the next and later one to break down the
credit of their administration of human affairs, which only became
incredible even to the enlightened part of the community after their
moral worthlessness had been fully and long developed.
The Homeric poems expose to our view two standards not mutually
accordant, the objective and the subjective. If we pay attention to
the impressions current among men respecting the gods, they are the
guardians of some moral and social principles of the highest order.
But if we take their own word for it, the mere Olympian deities seem
ordinarily to appreciate no quality or conduct, except the practice
of offering up numerous and well fed animals in sacrifice, each with
the accompanying tribute of the appointed portion; that so they may
draw, not a moral but a physical, though a comparatively refined,
gratification from the savour and the taste[728].
[728] Vid. Il. iv. 48. xxii. 170. xxiv. 69. and 33.
The protection, too, which the deities usually accord to man, is
not only given on selfish principles, but is liable to be withdrawn
for causes wholly independent of his deserts. Quarrels about men
are settled, not by each foregoing his animosities, but by each
surrendering and abandoning his clients. ‘I will give up Troy to
you,’ says Jupiter; ‘but mind that I shall be at liberty to destroy
the cities which you love, when I may be so minded[729].’ ‘You are
quite welcome,’ answers Juno, ‘and indeed I could not prevent you: but
let me have Troy destroyed.’ Why, says even Apollo to Neptune, should
we quarrel about miserable mortals? It is not worth our while: let us
leave them to themselves[730]. No Homeric deity ever will be found to
make a personal sacrifice on behalf of a human client.
[729] Il. iv. 39. and seqq.
[730] Il. xxi. 461-7.
In the next Section, I shall endeavour to show that the practice of
sacrifice was not so entirely disconnected from morality, as we are
perhaps too apt to suppose. I think we may, on the contrary, find in it
at least a witness to the essential harmony between morality and divine
worship, and to the difficulty of tearing them asunder.
We are here met, indeed, by the case of Autolycus, which proves to us
that the better elements of this practice were already on their way
to corruption, inasmuch as in that instance they had reached it. It
was a case, let it be remembered, of sacrifices, not to the gods in
general, nor to the higher or the better deities, but to Mercury, a
purely mythical divinity; and therefore what we see in it is, a false
religion in a state of ripeness at one particular point. Now the
worship of Mercury, the god of gain, was perhaps the first point at
which the morality of the system might be expected to give way: and
it is therefore quite in the natural course that a case like that of
Autolycus should be presented to us without any corresponding case for
any other deity[731]. As it stands in Homer, it represents what was
then the exception, though it was gradually to become the rule.
[731] Od. xxiv. 514.
~_A moral tone occasionally perceptible._~