FOOTNOTES
Footnotes for Book I:
“Latona’s son and Jove’s,” was Apollo, the tutelary deity of the Dorians. The Dorians had not, however, at this early age, become the predominant race in Greece proper. They had spread along the eastern shores of the Archipelago into the islands, especially Crete, and had every where signalized themselves by the Temples of Apollo, of which there seems to have been many in and about Troy. These temples were schools of art, and prove the Dorians to have been both intellectual and powerful. Homer was an Ionian, and therefore not deeply acquainted with the nature of the Dorian god. But to a mind like his, the god of a people so cultivated, and associated with what was most grand in art, must have been an imposing being, and we find him so represented. Throughout the Iliad, he appears and acts with splendor and effect, but always against the Greeks from mere partiality to Hector. It would perhaps be too much to say, that in this partiality to Hector, we detect the spirit of the Dorian worship, the only Paganism of antiquity that tended to perfect the individual—Apollo being the expression of the moral harmony of the universe, and the great spirit of the Dorian culture being to make a perfect man, an incarnation of the κοσμος. This Homer could only have known intuitively.
In making Apollo author of the plague, he was confounded with Helios, which was frequent afterwards, but is not seen elsewhere in Homer. The arrows of Apollo were “silent as light,” and their emblem the sun’s rays. The analogies are multitudinous between the natural and intellectual sun; but Helios and Apollo were two.—E.P.P.
There is something exceedingly venerable in this appearance of the priest. He comes with the ensigns of the gods to whom he belongs, with the laurel wreath, to show that he was a suppliant, and a golden sceptre, which the ancients gave in particular to Apollo, as they did one of silver to Diana.
The art of this speech is remarkable. Chryses considers the army of Greeks, as made up of troops, partly from the kingdoms and partly from democracies, and therefore begins with a distinction that includes all. Then, as priest of Apollo, he prays that they may obtain the two blessings they most desire—the conquest of Troy and a safe return. As he names his petition, he offers an extraordinary ransom, and concludes with bidding them fear the god if they refuse it; like one who from his office seems to foretell their misery, and exhorts them to shun it. Thus he endeavors to work by the art of a general application, by religion, by interest, and the insinuation of danger.
Homer is frequently eloquent in his silence. Chryses says not a word in answer to the insults of Agamemnon, but walks pensively along the shore. The melancholy flowing of the verse admirably expresses the condition of the mournful and deserted father.
[So called on account of his having saved the people of Troas from a plague of mice, sminthos in their language meaning a mouse.—Tr.]
Apollo had temples at Chrysa, Tenedos, and Cilla, all of which lay round the bay of Troas. Müller remarks, that “the temple actually stood in the situation referred to, and that the appellation of Smintheus was still preserved in the district. Thus far actual circumstances are embodied in the mythus. On the other hand, the action of the deity as such, is purely ideal, and can have no other foundation than the belief that Apollo sternly resents ill usage of his priests, and that too in the way here represented, viz., by sending plagues. This belief is in perfect harmony with the idea generally entertained of the power and agency of Apollo; and it is manifest that the idea placed in combination with certain events, gave birth to the story so far as relates to the god. We have not yet the means of ascertaining whether it is to be regarded as a historical tradition, or an invention, and must therefore leave that question for the present undecided.”
The poet is careful to leave no prayer unanswered that has justice on its side. He who prays either kills his enemy, or has signs given him that he has been heard.
[For this singular line the Translator begs to apologize, by pleading the strong desire he felt to produce an English line, if possible, somewhat resembling in its effect the famous original one.
Δεινη δε κλαγγη γενετ αργυρεοιο βιοιο.—Tr.]
The plague in the Grecian camp was occasioned perhaps by immoderate heats and gross exhalations. Homer takes occasion from it, to open the scene with a beautiful allegory. He supposes that such afflictions are sent from Heaven for the punishment of evil actions; and because the sun was the principal agent, he says it was sent to punish Agamemnon for despising that god, and injuring his priest.
Hippocrates observes two things of plagues; that their cause is in the air, and that different animals are differently affected by them, according to their nature and nourishment. This philosophy is referred to the plagues here mentioned. First, the cause is in the air by means of the darts or beams of Apollo; second, the mules and dogs are said to die sooner than the men, partly from their natural quickness of smell, and partly from their feeding so near the earth whence the exhalations arise.
Juno, queen of Olympus, sides with the Grecians. Mr. Coleridge (in his disquisition upon the Prometheus of Æschylus, published in his Remains) shows very clearly by historical criticism, that Juno, in the Grecian religion, expressed the spirit of conservatism. Without going over his argument we assume it here, for Homer always attributes to Juno every thing that may be predicated of this principle. She is persistent, obstinate, acts from no idea, but often uses a superficial reasoning, and refers to Fate, with which she upbraids Jupiter. Jupiter is the intellectual power or Free Will, and by their union, or rather from their antagonism, the course of things proceeds with perpetual vicissitude, but with a great deal of life.—E.P.P.
Observe this Grecian priest. He has no political power, and commands little reverence. In Agamemnon’s treatment of him, as well as Chryses, is seen the relation of the religion to the government. It was neither master nor slave.—E.P.P.
A district of Thessaly forming a part of the larger district of Phthiotis. Phthiotis, according to Strabo, included all the southern portion of that country as far as Mount Œta and the Maliac Gulf. To the west it bordered on Dolopia, and on the east reached the confines of Magnesia. Homer comprised within this extent of territory the districts of Phthia and Hellas properly so called, and, generally speaking, the dominions of Achilles, together with those of Protesilaus and Eurypylus.
Κυνωπα.
μεγαναιδες.
Agamemnon’s anger is that of a lover, and Achilles’ that of a warrior. Agamemnon speaks of Chrysëis as a beauty whom he values too much to resign. Achilles treats Brisëis as a slave, whom he is anxious to preserve in point of honor, and as a testimony of his glory. Hence he mentions her only as “his spoil,” “the reward of war,” etc.; accordingly he relinquishes her not in grief for a favorite whom he loses, but in sullenness for the injury done him.—Dacier.
Jupiter, in the disguise of an ant, deceived Eurymedusa, the daughter of Cleitos. Her son was for this reason called Myrmidon (from μυρμηξ, an ant), and was regarded as the ancestor of the Myrmidons in Thessaly.—Smith.
According to the belief of the ancients, the gods were supposed to have a peculiar light in their eyes. That Homer was not ignorant of this opinion appears from his use of it in other places.
Minerva is the goddess of the art of war rather than of war itself. And this fable of her descent is an allegory of Achilles restraining his wrath through his consideration of martial law and order. This law in that age, prescribed that a subordinate should not draw his sword upon the commander of all, but allowed a liberty of speech which appears to us moderns rather out of order.—E.P.P.
[The shield of Jupiter, made by Vulcan, and so called from its covering, which was the skin of the goat that suckled him.—Tr.]
Homer magnifies the ambush as the boldest enterprise of war. They went upon those parties with a few only, and generally the most daring of the army, and on occasions of the greatest hazard, when the exposure was greater than in a regular battle. Idomeneus, in the 13th book, tells Meriones that the greatest courage appears in this way of service, each man being in a manner singled out to the proof of it.
In the earlier ages of the world, the sceptre of a king was nothing more than his walking-staff, and thence had the name of sceptre. Ovid, in speaking of Jupiter, describes him as resting on his sceptre.—Spence.
From the description here given, it would appear to have been a young tree cut from the root and stripped of its branches. It was the custom of Kings to swear by their sceptres.
For an account of the contest between the Centaurs and Lapiths here referred to, see Grecian and Roman Mythology.
In antiquity, a sacrifice of a hundred oxen, or beasts of the same kind; hence sometimes indefinitely, any sacrifice of a large number of victims.
[The original is here abrupt, and expresses the precipitancy of the speaker by a most beautiful aposiopesis.—Tr.]
The Iliad, in its connection, is, we all know, a glorification of Achilles by Zeus; for the Trojans only prevail because Zeus wishes to show that the reposing hero who sits in solitude, can alone conquer them. But to leave him this glorification entirely unmixed with sorrow, the Grecian sense of moderation forbids. The deepest anguish must mingle with his consciousness of fame, and punish his insolence. That glorification is the will of Zeus; and in the spirit of the ancient mythus, a motive for it is assigned in a divine legend. The sea-goddess Thetis, who was, according to the Phthiotic mythus, wedded to the mortal Peleus, saved Zeus, by calling up the giant Briareus or Ægæon to his rescue. Why it was Ægæon, is explained by the fact that this was a great sea-demon, who formed the subject of fables at Poseidonian Corinth, where even the sea-god himself was called Ægæon; who, moreover, was worshipped at several places in Eubœa, the seat of Poseidon Ægæus; and whom the Theogony calls the son-in-law of Poseidon, and most of the genealogists, especially Eumelus in the Titanomachy, brought into relation with the sea. There is therefore good reason to be found in ancient belief, why Thetis called up Ægæon of all others to Jove’s assistance. The whole of the story, however, is not detailed—it is not much more than indicated—and therefore it would be difficult even now to interpret it in a perfectly satisfactory manner. It bears the same relation to the Iliad, that the northern fables of the gods, which serve as a back-ground to the legend of Nibelungen, bear to our German ballad, only that here the separation is much greater still—Muller.
Homer makes use of this fable, without reference to its meaning as an allegory. Briareus seems to symbolize a navy, and the fable refers to some event in remote history, when the reigning power was threatened in his autocracy, and strengthened by means of his association with the people against some intermediate class.—E.P.P.
επαυρωνται.
[A name by which we are frequently to understand the Nile in Homer.—Tr.]
Around the sources of the Nile, and thence south-west into the very heart of Africa, stretching away indefinitely over its mountain plains, lies the country which the ancients called Ethiopia, rumors of whose wonderful people found their way early into Greece, and are scattered over the pages of her poets and historians.
Homer wrote at least eight hundred years before Christ, and his poems are well ascertained to be a most faithful mirror of the manners of his times and the knowledge of his age. * * * * * *
Homer never wastes an epithet. He often alludes to the Ethiopians elsewhere, and always in terms of admiration and praise, as being the most just of men, and the favorites of the gods. The same allusions glimmer through the Greek mythology, and appear in the verses of almost all the Greek poets, ere yet the countries of Italy and Sicily were even discovered. The Jewish Scriptures and Jewish literature abound in allusions to this distant and mysterious people, the annals of the Egyptian priests are full of them, and uniformly, the Ethiopians are there lauded as among the best, the most religious, and most civilized of men.—Christian Examiner.
The Ethiopians, says Diodorus, are said to be the inventors of pomps, sacrifices, solemn meetings, and other honors paid to the gods. From hence arose their character of piety, which is here celebrated by Homer. Among these there was an annual feast at Diospolis, which Eustathius mentions, when they carried about the statues of Jupiter and other gods, for twelve days, according to their number; to which, if we add the ancient custom of setting meat before statues, it will appear to be a rite from which this fable might easily have arisen.
[The original word (πολυβενθεος) seems to express variety of soundings, an idea probably not to be conveyed in an English epithet.—Tr.]
The following passage gives the most exact account of the ancient sacrifices that we have left us. There is first, the purification by the washing of hands; second, the offering up of prayers; third, the barley-cakes thrown upon the victim; fourth, the manner of killing it, with the head turned upwards; fifth, selecting the thighs and fat for their gods, as the best of the sacrifice, and disposing about them pieces cut from every part for a representation of the whole (hence the thighs are frequently spoken of in Homer and the Greek poets as the whole victim); sixth, the libation of wine; seventh, consuming the thighs in the fire of the altar; eighth, the sacrificers dressing and feasting on the rest, with joy and hymns to the gods.
The Pæan (originally sung in honor of Apollo) was a hymn to propitiate the god, and also a song of thanksgiving, when freed from danger. It was always of a joyous nature. Both tune and sound expressed hope and confidence. It was sung by several persons, one of whom probably led the others, and the singers either marched onward, or sat together at table.
It was the custom to draw the ships entirely upon the shore, and to secure them by long props.—Felton
Suppliants threw themselves at the feet of the person to whom the supplication was addressed, and embraced his knees.—Felton.
Ambrosia, the food of the gods, conferred upon them eternal youth and immortality, and was brought to Jupiter by pigeons. It was also used by the gods for anointing the body and hair. Hence the expression, ambrosial locks.
The original says, “the ox-eyed goddess,” which furnishes Coleridge with one of the hints on which he proceeds in historically identifying the Argive Juno with Io and Isis, &c. There is real wit in Homer’s making her say to Jupiter, “I never search thy thoughts,” &c. The principle of conservatism asks nothing of the intellectual power, but blindly contends, reposing upon the instinct of a common sense, which leads her always to surmise that something is intended by the intellectual power that she shall not like.—E.P.P.
This refers to an old fable of Jupiter’s hanging up Juno and whipping her. Homer introduces it without reference to its meaning, which was undoubtedly some physical truth connected with the ether and the atmosphere.—E.P.P.
[The reader, in order that he may partake with the gods in the drollery of this scene, should observe that the crippled and distorted Vulcan had thrust himself into an office at all other times administered either by Hebe or Ganymede.—Tr.]
As Minerva or Wisdom was among the company, the poet’s making Vulcan act the part of peace-maker, would appear to have been from choice, knowing that a mirthful person may often stop a quarrel, by making himself the subject of merriment.
Footnotes for Book II:
The poem now becomes more exciting; the language more animated; the descriptions more lively and figurative. Homer seems to kindle with his subject, and to press all the phenomena of nature into his service for the purpose of illustration and adornment. Jupiter prepares to keep his promise of avenging Achilles, by drawing Agamemnon into a deceitful expectation of taking the city. The forces are arranged for battle, which gives occasion for the celebrated catalogue.—Felton.
The whole action of the Dream is natural. It takes the figure of one much beloved by Agamemnon, as the object that is most in our thoughts when awake, is the one that oftenest appears to us in our dreams, and just at the instant of its vanishing, leaves so strong an impression, that the voice seems still sounding in his ear.
The Dream also repeats the words of Jupiter without variation, which is considered as a great propriety in delivering a message from the father of gods and men.
King of Pylus, an ancient city of Elis.
[Agamemnon seems to entertain some doubts lest the army should so resent his treatment of their favorite Achilles, as to be indisposed to serve him.—Tr.]
[Mercury.]
[Argus.]
Homer, in a happy and poetical manner, acquaints us with the high descent of Agamemnon, and traces the origin of his power to the highest source, by saying, that the sceptre had descended to him from the hand of Jupiter.
The power of Agamemnon as a monarch refers to his being the leader of an army. According to the form of royalty in the heroic age, a king had only the power of a magistrate, except as he held the office of priest. Aristotle defines a king as a Leader of war, a Judge of controversies, and President of the ceremonies of the gods. That he had the principal care of religious rites, appears from many passages in Homer. His power was nowhere absolute but in war, for we find Agamemnon insulted in the council, but in the army threatening deserters with death. Agamemnon is sometimes styled king of kings, as the other princes had given him supreme authority over them in the siege.
[The extremest provocation is implied in this expression, which Thersites quotes exactly as he had heard it from the lips of Achilles.—Tr.]
The character of Thersites is admirably sketched. There is nothing vague and indistinct, but all the traits are so lively, that he stands before us like the image of some absurd being whom we have ourselves seen. It has been justly remarked by critics, that the poet displays great skill in representing the opponents of Agamemnon in the character of so base a personage, since nothing could more effectually reconcile the Greeks to the continuance of the war, than the ridiculous turbulence of Thersites.—Felton.
[Some for πονος here read ποθος; which reading I have adopted for the sake both of perspicuity and connection.—Tr.]
The principal signs by which the gods were thought to declare their will, were things connected with the offering of sacrifices, the flight and voice of birds, all kinds of natural phenomena, ordinary as well as extraordinary dreams.
An epithet supposed to have been derived from Gerenia, a Messenian town, where Nestor was educated.
In the pictures which Homer draws of him, the most striking features are his wisdom, bravery, and knowledge of war, his eloquence, and his old age.
For some general remarks upon the heroes of the time, see Grecian and Roman Mythology.
In allusion to the custom of pouring out a libation of pure wine, in the ceremony of forming a league, and joining right hands, as a pledge of mutual fidelity after the sacrifice.—Felton.
[Nestor is supposed here to glance at Achilles.—Tr.]
Homer here exalts wisdom over valor.
[Money stamped with the figure of an ox.]—Tr.
The encouragement of a divine power, seemed all that was requisite to change the dispositions of the Grecians, and make them more ardent for combat than they had previously been to return. This conquers their inclinations in a manner at once poetical and in keeping with the moral which is every where spread through Homer, that nothing is accomplished without divine assistance.
Homer’s rich invention gives us five beautiful similes on the march of the army. This profusion and variety can never be sufficiently admired.
The superior knowledge that the poet here attributes to the Muses as divine beings, and then his occasional invocations to them, gives an air of importance to his subject and has an imposing effect.
However fabulous the other parts of Homer’s poems may be, this account of the princes, people, and countries, is by far the most valuable piece of history and geography left us in regard to the state of Greece in that early period. Greece was then divided into several dynasties, which Homer has enumerated under their respective princes; and his division was considered so correct, that many disputes respecting the boundaries of Grecian cities were decided upon his authority. Eustathius has collected together the following instances: The city of Calydon was adjudged to the Ætolians, notwithstanding the pretensions of Æolia, because it was ranked by Homer as belonging to the former. Sestos was given to those of Abydos, upon the plea that he had said the Abydonians were possessors of Sestos, Abydos, and Arisbe. When the Milesians and people of Priene disputed their claim to Mycale, a verse of Homer gave it to the Milesians. The Athenians were put in possession of Salamis by another which was cited by Solon, or (according to some) interpolated by him for that purpose; and Porphyry says, that the catalogue was so highly esteemed, that the youths of some nations were required to commit it to memory.
Professor Felton remarks, “The student is advised to give particular attention to this important passage. He will find it the most interesting fragment of geography extant; interesting for the poetical beauty of the verse, the regular order which is followed, and the little characteristic touches which denote the peculiarities of the several provinces. The more he examines this catalogue with the subsidiary lights of geography, history and travels, the more cause will he find of wonder, that a description so ancient should combine so much accuracy, beauty, and interest. It is recommended to the student, to trace the provinces and cities on some good map of ancient Greece.”
[Some say Thebes the less, others, the suburbs of Thebes the greater. It is certain that Thebes itself sent none.—Tr.]
It was the custom of these people to shave the fore parts of their heads, that their enemies might not seize them by the hair; on the hinder part they allowed it to grow, as a valiant race that would never turn their backs. Their manner of fighting was hand to hand, without quitting their javelins.
Menelaus is occasionally distinguished by his activity, which shows his personal concern in the war.
The Arcadians, being an inland people, were unskilled in navigation, for which reason Agamemnon furnished them with shipping.
Nireus is nowhere mentioned as a leader but in these lines. As rank and beauty were his only qualifications, he is allowed to sink into oblivion.
The mud of the Peneus is of a light color, for which reason Homer gives it the epithet of silvery. The Titaresius, and other small streams which are rolled from Olympus and Ossa, are so extremely clear, that their waters are distinguished from those of the Peneus for a considerable distance from the point of their confluence.—Dodwell.
Dr. Clarke, in his travels, describes this tomb as a conical mound; and says that it is the spot of all others for viewing the plain of Troy, as it is visible in all parts of Troas. From its top may be traced the course of the Scamander, the whole chain of Ida, stretching towards Lectum, the snowy heights of Gargarus, and all the shores of Hellespont, near the mouth of the river Sigæum and the other tumuli upon the coast.
A patronymic given to Achilles as descendant of Æacus, father of Peleus.
A river of Troas in Asia Minor, the same as the Scamander.
This expression is construed by critics as denoting an unpolished dialect, but not a foreign.
Footnotes for Book III:
The scenes described in this book are exceedingly lifesome. The figures are animating and beautiful, and the mind of the reader is borne along with breathless interest over the sonorous verse.—Felton.
This is a striking simile, from its exactness in two points—the noise and the order. It has been supposed that the embattling of an army was first learned by observing the close order of the flight of these birds. The noise of the Trojans contrasts strongly with the silence of the Greeks. Plutarch remarks upon this distinction as a credit to the military discipline of the latter, and Homer would seem to have attached some importance to it, as he again alludes to the same thing. Book iv. 510.
[Paris, frequently named Alexander in the original.—Tr.]
Not from cowardice, but from a sense of guilt towards Menelaus. At the head of an army he challenges the boldest of the enemy; and Hector, at the end of the Sixth Book, confesses that no man could reproach him as a coward. Homer has a fine moral;—A brave mind, however blinded with passion, is sensible of remorse whenever he meets the person whom he has injured; and Paris is never made to appear cowardly, but when overcome by the consciousness of his injustice.
[Λαινον εσσο χιτωνα]
In allusion to the Oriental custom of stoning to death for the crime of adultery.—Felton.
The sling was a very efficacious and important instrument in ancient warfare. Stones were also thrown with the hand. The Libyans carried no other arms than the spear and a bag of stones.
The Trojans were required to sacrifice two lambs; one male of a white color to the Sun, as the father of light, and one female and black to the Earth, the mother and nurse of men. That these were the powers to which they sacrificed appears from their being attested by name in the oath. III. 330.
Helen’s weaving the events of the Trojan war in a veil is an agreeable fiction; and one might suppose that it was inherited by Homer, and explained in his Iliad.—Dacier.
[Not the grasshopper, but an insect well known in hot countries, and which in Italy is called Cicála. The grasshopper rests on the ground, but the favorite abode of the Cicála is in the trees and hedges.—Tr.]
This episode is remarkable for its beauty. The effect of Helen’s appearance upon the aged counsellors is striking and poetical. It must be borne in mind, that Helen was of divine parentage and unfading beauty, and this will explain the enthusiasm which her sight called forth from the old men. The poet’s skill in taking this method of describing the Grecian chieftains is obvious, and the sketches themselves are living and characteristic to a high degree. The reminiscences of the aged Priam, as their names are announced, and the penitential sorrow of the erring Helen, which the sight of her countrymen, and the recollection of her home, her child, her companions, excite in her bosom, are among the most skilful touches of natural feeling.—Felton.
The character of a benevolent old man is well preserved in Priam’s behavior to Helen. Upon observing her confusion, he attributes the misfortunes of the war to the gods alone. This sentiment is also natural to old age. Those who have had the longest experience of life, are the most inclined to ascribe the disposal of all things to the will of Heaven.
This view of the Grecian leaders from the walls of Troy, is admired as an episode of great beauty, and considered a masterly manner of acquainting the reader with the figure and qualifications of each hero.
Helen sees no where in the plain her two brothers Castor and Pollux. Her inquiry is a natural one, and her self-reproach naturally suggests her own disgrace as the cause of their not appearing among the other commanders. The two lines in which the poet mentions their death are simple and touching.—Felton.
Homer here gives the whole ceremonial of the solemn oath, as it was then observed by the nations of whom he writes.
It must be borne in mind that sacrificing was the most solemn act of religion, and that kings were also chief-priests.
The armor of both Greeks and Trojans consisted of six portions, and was always put on in the order here given. The greaves were for the defence of the legs. They were made of some kind of metal, and probably lined with cloth or felt. The cuirass or corselet for the body, was made of horn cut in thin pieces and fastened upon linen cloth, one piece overlapping another. The sword hung on the left side by means of a belt which passed over the right shoulder. The large round shield, sometimes made of osiers twisted together and covered with several ox-hides, and bound round the edge with metal. In the Homeric times it was supported by a belt; subsequently a band was placed across the inner side, in which the left arm was inserted, and a strong leather strap fastened near the edge at certain distances, which was grasped by the hand. The helmet, made of metal and lined with felt. Lastly the spear, and in many cases two. The heavy-armed soldiery were distinguished from the light. The covering of the latter consisted of skins, and instead of the sword and lance, they fought with darts, bows and arrows, or slings, and were generally attached in a subordinate capacity to the heavy-armed soldiery.
Homer puts a prayer in the mouth of Menelaüs, but none in that of Paris. Menelaüs is injured and innocent, and may therefore ask for justice; but Paris, who is the criminal, remains silent.
[Because the hide of a beast that dies in health is tougher and fitter for use than of another that dies diseased.]
Footnotes for Book IV:
The goddess of youth is made an attendant at the banquets of the gods, to show that they enjoyed a perpetual youth, and endless felicity.
[A town of that name in Bœotia, where Pallas was particularly worshipped.—Tr.]
[Βοωπις, constant description of Juno, but not susceptible of literal translation.]
Homer does not make the gods use all persons indiscriminately as their agents, but each according to his powers. When Minerva would persuade the Greeks, she seeks Ulysses; when she would break the truce, for Pandarus; and when she would conquer, for Diomede. The goddess went not to the Trojans, because they hated Paris, and looks among the allies, where she finds Pandarus, who was of a nation noted for perfidiousness, and who, from his avarice, was capable of engaging in this treachery for the hope of a reward from Paris.
A city of Asia Minor.
This description, so full of circumstantial detail, is remarkably beautiful. 1. The history of the bow, giving in a few words the picture of a hunter, lying in ambush and slaying his victim. 2. Then the process of making the bow. 3. The anxious preparation for discharging the arrow with certainty, which was destined to break off the truce and precipitate the battle. 4. The hurried prayer and vow to Apollo, after which the string is drawn, the cord twangs, the arrow “leaps forth.” The whole is described with such graphic truth, that we see, and hear, and wait in breathless suspense to know the result.—Felton.
This is one of those humble comparisons with which Homer sometimes diversifies his subject, but a very exact one of its kind, and corresponding in all its parts. The care of the goddess, the unsuspecting security of Menelaus, the ease with which she diverts the danger, and the danger itself, are all included in these few words. To which may be added, that if the providence of heavenly powers to their creatures is expressed by the love of a mother to her child, if men in regard to them are but as sleeping infants, and the dangers that seem so great to us, as easily warded off as the simile implies, the conception appears sublime, however insignificant the image may at first seem in regard to a hero.
From this we learn that the Lydians and Carians were famous for their skill in dying purple, and that their women excelled in works of ivory; and also that there were certain ornaments that only kings and princes were privileged to wear.
This speech of Agamemnon over his wounded brother, is full of noble power and touching eloquence. The Trojans have violated a truce sanctioned by a solemn sacrifice to the gods. The reflection that such perjury cannot pass with impunity, but that Jove will, sooner or later, punish it, occurs first to the mind of the warrior. In the excitement of the moment, he predicts that the day will surely come when sacred Troy shall fall. From this impetuous feeling his mind suddenly returns to the condition of his brother, and imagines with much pathos, the consequences that will follow from his death, and ends with the wish, that the earth may open before him when that time shall come.—Felton.
The poet here changes the narration, and apostrophises the reader. Critics commend this figure, as the reader then becomes a spectator, and his mind is kept fixed on the action.
In the following review of the army, we see the skill of an accomplished general as well as the characters of the leaders whom Agamemnon addresses. He begins with an address to the army in general, and then turns to individuals. To the brave he urges their secure hopes of conquest, since the gods must punish perjury; to the timid, their inevitable destruction if the enemy should burn their ships. After this he flies from rank to rank, skilfully addressing each ally, and presents a lively picture of a great mind in the highest emotion.
The ancients usually in their feasts divided to the guests in equal portions, except they took particular occasion to show distinction. It was then considered the highest mark of honor to be allotted the best portion of meat and wine, and to be allowed an exemption from the laws of the feast in drinking wine unmingled and without measure. This custom was much more ancient than the time of the Trojan war, and we find it practised in the banquet given by Joseph to his brethren.
[Diverse interpretations are given of this passage. I have adopted that which to me appeared most plausible. It seems to be a caution against the mischiefs that might ensue, should the horses be put under the management of a driver with whom they were unacquainted.—The scholium by Villoisson much countenances this solution.—Tr.]
[Here Nestor only mentions the name of Ereuthalion, knowing the present to be an improper time for story-telling; in the seventh book he relates his fight and victory at length. This passage may serve to confute those who charge Nestor with indiscriminate loquacity.—Tr.]
The first Theban war, previously alluded to, took place twenty-seven years before the war of Troy. Sthenelus here speaks of the second, which happened ten years after the first. For an account of these wars see Grecian and Roman Mythology.
This is a most animated description. The onset, the clashing of spears, the shield pressed to shield, the tumult of the battle, the shouts and groans of the slayer and the dying—all are described in words, the very sound of which conveys the terrible meaning. Then come the exploits performed by individual heroes. The student must bear in mind, that the battles of the heroic age depended in a great measure upon the prowess of single chieftains. Hence the appropriateness of the following enumeration.—Felton.
So called from the river Simoïs, near which he was born. It was an eastern custom to name children from the most remarkable accident of their birth. The Scriptures furnish many examples. In the Old Testament princes were also compared to trees, and Simöisius is here resembled to a poplar.
Homer occasionally puts his readers in mind of Achilles, and finds occasion to celebrate his valor with the highest praise. Apollo here tells the Trojans they have nothing to fear, since Achilles fights not.
[Ακροκομοι. They wore only a lock of hair on the crown of the head.]
Footnotes for Book V:
In each battle there is one prominent person who may be called the hero of the day. This arrangement preserves unity, and helps to fix the attention of the reader. The gods sometimes favor one hero, and sometimes another. In this book we have the exploits of Diomede. Assisted by Minerva, he is eminent both for prudence and valor.
Sirius. This comparison, among many others, shows how constantly the poet’s attention was directed to the phenomena of nature.—Felton.
Ηιοεντι.
The chariots were probably very low. We frequently find in the Iliad that a person standing in a chariot is killed (and sometimes by a stroke on the head) by a foot soldier with a sword. This may farther appear from the ease with which they mount or alight, to facilitate which, the chariots were made open behind. That the wheels were small, may be supposed from their custom of taking them off and putting them on. Hebe puts on the wheels of Juno’s chariot, when he called for it in battle. It may be in allusion to the same custom, that it is said in Ex., ch. xiv.: “The Lord took off their chariot wheels, so that they drove them heavily.” That it was very small and light, is evident from a passage in the tenth Il., where Diomede debates whether he shall draw the chariot of Rhesus out of the way, or carry it on his shoulders to a place of safety.
[Meges, son of Phyleus.]
This whole passage is considered by critics as very beautiful. It describes the hero carried by an enthusiastic valor into the midst of his enemies, and mingling in the ranks indiscriminately. The simile thoroughly illustrates this fury, proceeding as it did from an extraordinary infusion of courage from Heaven.
[Apollo.]
The deities are often invoked because of the agency ascribed to them and not from any particular religious usage. And just as often the heroes are protected by the gods who are worshipped by their own tribes and families—Muller.
This fiction of Homer, says Dacier, is founded upon an important truth of religion, not unknown to the Pagans: viz. that God only can open the eyes of men, and enable them to see what they cannot otherwise discover. The Old Testament furnishes examples. God opens the eyes of Hagar, that she may see the fountain. “The Lord opened the eyes of Baalam, and he saw the angel,” etc. This power of sight was given to Diomede only for the present occasion. In the 6th Book, on meeting Glaucus, he is ignorant whether he is a god, a hero, or a man.
[Or collar-bone.]
The belief of those times, in regard to the peace and happiness of the soul after death, made the protection of the body a matter of great importance. For a full account of these rites, see the articles Charon and Pluto, Gr. & Rom. Mythology.
The physician of the gods. Homer says nothing of his origin. He seems to be considered as distinct from Apollo, though perhaps originally identical with him.
From the fact that so few mystical myths are introduced in the Iliad, Müller infers that the mystical element of religion could not have predominated among the Grecian people for whom Homer sang. Otherwise, his poems in which that element is but little regarded, would not have afforded universal pleasure and satisfaction. He therefore takes but a passing notice of Demeter. Müller also remarks, that in this we cannot but admire the artistic skill of Homer, and the feeling for what is right and fitting that was innate with the Greeks.
[Vide Samson to Harapha in the Agonistes. There the word is used in the same sense.—Tr.]
[This is a construction of λευκ ελεφαντι given by some of the best commentators, and that seems the most probable.—Tr.]
This slow and orderly retreat of the Greeks, with their front constantly turned to the enemy, is a fine encomium on their courage and discipline. This manner of retreating was customary among the Lacedæmonians, as were many other martial customs described by Homer. The practice arose from the apprehension of being killed by a wound in the back, which was not only punished with infamy, but a person bearing the mark was denied the rites of burial.
[This, according to Porphyrius as quoted by Clarke, is the true meaning of αιολομιτρης.—Tr.]
The chariots of the gods were formed of various metals, and drawn through the air, or upon the surface of the sea, by horses of celestial breed. These chariots were used by the deities only on occasion of a long journey, or when they wished to appear with state and magnificence. Ordinarily they were transported from place to place by the aid of their golden sandals, with the exception of the “silver-footed Thetis,” to whom they seem to have been superfluous. When at home, the gods were barefoot, according to the custom of the age, as we see from various representations of antique art.
[These which I have called crescents, were a kind of hook of a semicircular form, to which the reins were occasionally fastened.—Tr.]
The Greeks borrowed the vest and shield of Minerva from the Lybians, only with this difference: the Lybian shield was fringed with thongs of leather, and the Grecian with serpents.—Herodotus.
This expression (the gates of Heaven) is in the eastern manner, and common in the Scriptures.
[Αρεα τονδε.]
Every thing that enters the dark empire of Hades disappears, and is seen no more; hence the figurative expression, to put on Pluto’s helmet; that is to become invisible.
Footnotes for Book VI:
The Simoïs and Xanthus were two rivers of the Troad, which form a junction before they reached the Hellespont. The Simoïs rose in Mt. Ida, and the Xanthus had its origin near Troy.—Felton.
Ajax commences his exploits immediately on the departure of the gods from the battle. It is observed of this hero, that he is never assisted by the deities.
Axylus was distinguished for his hospitality. This trait was characteristic of the Oriental nations, and is often alluded to by ancient writers. The rite of hospitality often united families belonging to different and hostile nations, and was even transmitted from father to son. This description is a fine tribute to the generosity of Axylus.—Felton
[Euryalus.]
Agamemnon’s taking the life of the Trojan whom Menelaus had pardoned, was according to the custom of the times. The historical books of the Old Testament abound in instances of the like cruelty to conquered enemies.
This important maxim of war is very naturally introduced, upon Menelaus being ready to spare an enemy for the sake of a ransom. According to Dacier, it was for such lessons as these that Alexander so much esteemed Homer and studied his poem.
The custom of making donations to the gods is found among the ancients, from the earliest times of which we have any record down to the introduction of Christianity; and even after that period it was observed by the Christians during the middle ages. Its origin seems to have been the same as that of sacrifices: viz. the belief that the gods were susceptible of influence in their conduct towards men. These gifts were sometimes very costly, but often nothing more than locks of hair cut from the head of the votary.
Diomede had knowingly wounded and insulted the deities; he therefore met Glaucus with a superstitious fear that he might be some deity in human shape. This feeling brought to his mind the story of Lycurgus.
It is said that Lycurgus caused most of the vines of his country to be rooted up, so that his subjects were obliged to mix their wine with water, as it became less plentiful. Hence the fable that Thetis received Bacchus into her bosom.
This style of language was according to the manners of the times. Thus Goliath to David, “Approach, and I will give thy flesh to the fowls of the air and the beasts of the field.” The Orientals still speak in the same manner.
Though this comparison may be justly admired for its beauty in the obvious application to the mortality and succession of human life, it seems designed by the poet, in this place, as a proper emblem of the transitory state of families which, by their misfortune or folly, have fallen and decayed, and again appear, in a happier season, to revive and flourish in the fame and virtues of their posterity. In this sense it is a direct answer to the question of Diomede, as well as a proper preface to what Glaticus relates of his own family, which, having become extinct in Corinth, recovers new life in Lycia.
The same as Corinth.
Some suppose that alphabetical writing was unknown in the Homeric age, and consequently that these signs must have been hieroglyphical marks. The question is a difficult one, and the most distinguished scholars are divided in opinion. We can hardly imagine that a poem of the length and general excellence of the Iliad, could be composed without the aid of writing; and yet, we are told, there are well-authenticated examples of such works being preserved and handed down by traditional memory. However this may be, we know that the Oriental nations were in possession of the art of alphabetical writing it a very early period, and before the Trojan war. It cannot, then, seem very improbable, that the authors of the Iliad should also have been acquainted with it.—Felton.
The Solymi were an ancient nation inhabiting the mountainous parts of Asia Minor, between Lycia and Pisidia. Pliny mentions them as having become extinct in his time.
It was the custom in ancient times, upon the performance of any signal service by kings or great men, for the public to grant them a tract of land as a reward. When Sarpedon, in the 12th Book, exhorts Glaucus to behave valiantly, he reminds him of these possessions granted by his countrymen.
The laws of hospitality were considered so sacred, that a friendship contracted under their observance was preferred to the ties of consanguinity and alliance, and regarded as obligatory even to the third and fourth generation. Diomede and Glaucus here became friends, on the ground of their grandfathers having been mutual guests. The presents made on these occasions were preserved by families, as it was considered obligatory to transmit them as memorials to their children.
[Ξεινοι πατρωιοι.]
The Scæan gate opened to the field of battle, and was the one through which the Trojans made their excursions. Close to this stood the beech tree sacred to Jupiter, and often mentioned in connection with it.
There is a mournfulness in the interview between the hero and his mother which is deeply interesting. Her urging him to take wine and his refusal were natural and simple incidents, which heighten the effect of the scene.—Felton.
The custom that prohibits persons polluted with blood from performing any offices of divine worship before purification, is so ancient and universal, that it may be considered a precept of natural religion, tending to inspire a horror of bloodshed. In Euripides, Iphigenia argues the impossibility of human sacrifices being acceptable to the gods, since they do not permit any one defiled with blood, or even polluted with the touch of a dead body, to come near their altars.
Paris surprised the King of Phœnecia by night, and carried off many of his treasures and captives, among whom probably were these Sidonian women. Tyre and Sidon were famous for works in gold, embroidery, etc., and for whatever pertained to magnificence and luxury.
This gesture is the only one described by Homer as being used by the ancients in their invocations of the gods.
[δια θεαων.]
The employment in which Hector finds Paris engaged, is extremely characteristic.—Felton.
This address of Helen is in fine keeping with her character.—Felton.
[The bulk of his heroes is a circumstance of which Homer frequently reminds us by the use of the word μεγας—and which ought, therefore, by no means to be suppressed.—Tr.]
Love of his country is a prominent characteristic of Hector, and is here beautifully displayed in his discharging the duties that the public welfare required, before seeking his wife and child. Then finding that she had gone to the tower, he retraces his steps to “the Scæan gate, whence he must seek the field.” Here his wife, on her return home, accidentally meets him.
[The name signifies, the Chief of the city.—Tr.]
It was the custom to plant about tombs only such trees as elms, alders, etc., that bear no fruit, as being most appropriate to the dead.
In this recapitulation, Homer acquaints us with some of the great achievements of Achilles, which preceded the opening of the poem—a happy manner of exalting his hero, and exciting our expectation as to what he is yet to accomplish. His greatest enemies never upbraid him, but confess his glory. When Apollo encourages the Trojans to fight, it is by telling them Achilles fights no more. When Juno animates the Greeks, she reminds them how their enemies fear Achilles; and when Andromache trembles for Hector, it is with the remembrance of his resistless force.
Drawing water was considered the most servile employment.
[The Scholiast in Villoisson calls it φυσικον τινα και μετριον γελωτα a natural and moderate laughter.—Tr.]
According to the ancient belief, the fatal period of life is appointed to all men at the time of their birth, which no precaution can avoid and no danger hasten.
This scene, for true and unaffected pathos, delicate touches of nature, and a profound knowledge of the human heart, has rarely been equalled, and never surpassed, among all the efforts of genius during the three thousand years that have gone by since it was conceived and composed.—Felton.