Thus purely human were these gods; spending the summer’s day in feasting beneath the open sky; going home at sundown to sleep, like a parcel of great boys and girls.  They are immortal indeed, and can make men so sometimes, but cannot always prevent the death of a favorite.  Above them all broods a terrible power, mightier than themselves, the dark Fate and irresistible Necessity.  For, after all, as human gods they were like men, subject to the laws of nature.  Yet as men, they are free, and in the feeling of their freedom sometimes resist and defy fate.

The Homeric gods move through the air like birds, like wind, like lightning.  They are stronger than men, and larger.  Ares, overthrown by Pallas, covers seven acres of ground; when wounded by Diomedes he bellowed as loud as nine or ten thousand men, says the accurate Homer.  The bodies of the gods, inexpressibly beautiful, and commonly invisible, are, whenever seen by men, in an aureola of light.  In Homer, Apollo is the god of archery, prophecy, and music.  He is the far-darter.  He shoots his arrows at the Greeks, because his prophet had been ill-treated.  “He descended from Olympus,” says Homer, “enraged in heart, having his bow and quiver on his shoulders.  But as he moved the shafts rattled on the shoulders of him enraged; and he went onward like the night.  Then he sat near the ships, and sent an arrow, and dreadful was the clangor of the silver bow.”

Later in the Iliad he appears again, defending the Trojans and deceiving Achilles.  In the Homeric Hymn his birth on Delos is sweetly told; and how, when he was born, Earth smiled around, and all the goddesses shouted.  Themis fed him on nectar and ambrosia; then he sprang up, called for a lyre and bow, and said he would declare henceforth to men the will of Jove; and Delos, exulting, became covered with flowers.[230]

The Second Book of the Iliad begins thus:  “The rest, both gods and horse-arraying men, slept all the night; but Jove sweet sleep possessed not; but he pondered how he might destroy many at the Greek ships, and honor Achilles.  But this device appeared best to his mind, to send a fatal dream to Agamemnon.  And he said, ’Haste, pernicious dream, to the swift ships, and bid Agamemnon arm the Achaeans to take wide-streeted Troy, since Juno has persuaded all the gods to her will.’”

This was simply a lie, sent for the destruction of the Greeks.

In the First Book, Jupiter complains to Thetis that Juno is always scolding him, and good right had she to do so.  Presently she comes in and accuses him of plotting something secretly with Thetis, and never letting her know his plans.  He answers her by accusations of perversity:  “Thou art always suspecting; but thou shalt produce no effect, but be further from my heart.”  He then is so ungentlemanly as to threaten her with corporal punishment.  The gods murmur; but Vulcan interposes as a peacemaker, saying, “There will be no enjoyment in our delightful banquet if you twain thus contend.”  Then he arose and placed the double cup in her hands and said, “Be patient, my mother, lest I again behold thee beaten, and cannot help thee.”