HOMER AND THE HOMERIDA.

HOMER, the general patriarch of Occidental literature, reminds us oftentimes and powerfully, of the river Nile. If you, reader, should (as easily you may) be seated on the banks of that river in the months of February or March, 1842, you may count on two luxuries for a poetic eye - first, on a lovely cloudless morning; secondly, on a gorgeous flora. For it has been remarked, that nowhere, out of tropical regions, is the vernal equipage of nature so rich, so pompously variegated, in buds, and bells, and blossoms, as precisely in this unhappy Egypt-a house of bondage' undeniably, in all ages, to its own working population; and yet, as if to mock the misery it witnesses, the gayest of all lands in its spontaneous flora. Now, supposing yourself to be seated, together with a child or two, on some flowery carpet of the Delta; and supposing the Nile—that ancient river’· within sight; happy infancy on the one side, the everlasting pomp of waters on the other; and the thought still intruding, that on some quarter of your position, perhaps fifty miles out of sight, stand pointing to the heavens the mysterious pyramids. These circumstances presupposed, it is inevitable that your thoughts should wander

upwards to the dark fountains of origination. The pyramids, why and when did they arise? This infancy, so lovely and innocent, whence does it come, whither does it go? This creative river, what are its ultimate well-heads? That last question was viewed by antiquity as charmed against solution. It was not permitted, they fancied, to dishonor the river Nile by stealing upon his solitude in a state of weakness and childhood

• Nec licuit populis parvum te, Nile, videre.'

So said Lucan. And in those days no image that the earth suggested could so powerfully express a mysterious secrecy, as the coy fountains of the Nile. At length came Abyssinian Bruce; and that superstition seemed to vanish. Yet now again the mystery has revolved upon us. You have drunk, you say, from the fountains of the Nile. Good; but, my friend, from which fountains? 'Which king, Bezonian?' Understand that there is another branch of the Nile another mighty arm, whose fountains lie in far other regions. The great letter Y, that Pythagorean marvel, is still covered with shades in one-half of its bifurcation. And the darkness which, from the eldest of days, has invested Father Nile with fabulous awe, still broods over his most ancient fountains, defies our curious impertinence, and will not suffer us to behold the survivor of Memphis, and of Thebes the hundredgated other than in his grandeur as a benefactor of nations.

Such thoughts, a world of meditations pointing in the same direction, settle also upon Homer. Eightand-twenty hundred years, according to the improved

views of chronology, have men drunk from the waters of this earliest among poets. Himself, under one of his denominations, the son of a river [Melesigenes], or the grandson of a river [Mæonides], he has been the parent of fertilizing streams carried off derivatively into every land. Not the fountains of the Nile have been so diffusive, or so creative, as those of Homer·

'a quo ceu fonte perenni, Vatum Pieriis ora rigantur aquis.'

There is the same gayety of atmosphere, the same 'blue rejoicing sky,' the same absence of the austere and the gloomy sublime, investing the Grecian Homer as invests the Nile of the Delta. And again, if you would go upwards to the fountains of this ancient Nile, or of this ancient Homer, you would find the same mysterious repulsion. In both cases you find their fountains shyly retreating before you; and like the sacred peaks of Ararat, where the framework of Noah's ark reposes, never less surmounted than when a man fancies himself within arm's reach of their central recesses.*

A great poet appearing in early ages, and a great river, bear something of the same relation to human civility and culture. In this view, with a peculiar sublimity, the Hindoos consider a mighty fertilizing river,

* Seven or eight Europeans - some Russian, some English have not only taken possession of the topmost crag on Ararat by means of the broadest disc which their own persons offered, but have left flags flying, to mark out for those below, the exact station which they had reached. All to no purpose! The bigoted Armenian still replied - these are mere illusions worked by demons.

when bursting away with torrent rapture from its mountain cradle, and billowing onwards through two thousand miles of realms made rich by itself, as in some special meaning the Son of God.' The word Burrampooter is said to bear that sublime sense. Hence arose the profound interest about the Nile: what cause could produce its annual swelling? Even as a phenomenon that was awful, but much more so as a creative agency; for it was felt that Egypt, which is but the valley of the Nile, had been the mere creation of the river annually depositing its rich layers of slime. Hence arose the corresponding interest about Homer; for Greece and the Grecian Isles were in many moral respects as much the creation of Homer as Egypt of the Nile. And if, on the one hand, it is unavoidable to assume some degree of civilization before a Homer could exist, on the other, it is certain that Homer, by the picture of unity which he held aloft to the Greeks, in making them co-operate to a common enterprise against Asia, and by the intellectual pleasure which he first engrafted upon the innumerable festivals of Hellas, did more than lawgivers to propagate this early civilization, and to protect it against those barbarizing feuds or migrations which through some centuries menaced its existence.

Having, therefore, the same motive of curiosityhaving the same awe, connected first, with secrecy; secondly, with remoteness; and thirdly, with beneficent power, which turn our inquiries to the infant Nile; let us pursue a parallel investigation with regard to the infant Homer. How was Homer possible? how could such a poet as Homer how could such poem as the Iliad — arise in days so illiterate Or rather,

and first of all, was Homer possible? If the Iliad could and did arise, not as a long series of separate phenomena, but as one solitary birth of revolutionary power, how was it preserved? how passed onwards from generation to generation? how propagated over Greece during centuries, when our modern facilities for copying on paper, and the general art of reading, were too probably unknown?

We presume every man of letters to be aware, that, since the time of the great German philologer, Fred. Augustus Wolf, (for whose life and services to literature, see Wilhelm Koerte's · Leben und Studien Friedr. Aug. Wolfs,' 1833,) a great shock has been given to the slumbering credulity of men on these Homeric subjects; a galvanic resuscitation to the ancient scepticism on the mere possibility of an Iliad, such as we now have it, issuing sound and complete, in the tenth or eleventh century before Christ, from the brain of a blind man, who had not (they say) so much as chalk towards the scoring down of his thoughts. The doubts moved by Wolf in 1795, propagated a controversy in Germany which has subsisted down to the present time. This controversy concerns Homer himself, and his first-born child, the Iliad; for as to the Odyssey, sometimes reputed the child of his old age, and as to the minor poems, which never could have been ascribed to him by philosophic critics, these are universally given up- as having no more connection with Homer personally than any other of the many epic and cyclical poems which arose during Post-Homeric ages, in a spirit of imitation, more or less diverging from the primitive Homeric model.

Fred. Wolf raised the question soon after the time