6. One of the religious ceremonies previous to
any important
enterprise. Then followed the
order for silence and reverent
attention; then the libation, &c.—FELTON.
7. Achilles having retired from action in displeasure
to Agamemnon,
quieted himself by singing to his
lyre the achievements of
demi-gods and heroes. Nothing
was better suited to the martial
disposition of this hero, than these
heroic songs. Celebrating the
actions of the valiant prepared
him for his own great exploits.
Such was the music of the ancients,
and to such purposes was it
applied. When the lyre of Paris
was offered to Alexander, he
replied that he had little value
for it, but much desired that of
Achilles, on which he sung the actions
of heroes in former
times.—PLUTARCH.
8. The manners of the Iliad are the manners of
the patriarchal and
early ages of the East. The
chief differences arise from a
different religion and a more maritime
situation. Very far removed
from the savage state on the one
hand, and equally distant from the
artificial state of an extended
commerce and a manufacturing
population on the other, the spirit
and habitudes of the two modes
of society are almost identical.
The hero and the Patriarch are
substantially coeval; but the first
wanders in twilight, the last
stands in the eye of Heaven.
When three men appeared to Abraham in
the plains of Mamre, he ran to meet
them from the tent door,
brought them in, directed Sarah
to make bread, fetched from the
herd himself a calf tender and good,
dressed it, and set it before
them. When Ajax, Ulysses, and
Phoenix stand before Achilles, he
rushes forth to greet them, brings
them into the tent, directs
Patroclus to mix the wine, cuts
up the meat, dresses it, and sets
it before the ambassadors. * *
* *
Instances of this sort might be multiplied to any extent, but the student will find it a pleasing and useful task to discover them for himself; and these will amply suffice to demonstrate the existence of that correspondence of spirit and manners between the Homeric and the early ages of the Bible history, to which I have adverted. It is real and important; it affords a standard of the feelings with which we ought to read the Iliad, if we mean to read it as it deserves; and it explains and sets in the true point of view numberless passages, which the ignorance or frivolity of after-times has charged with obscurity, meanness or error. The Old Testament and the Iliad reflect light mutually on each other; and both in respect of poetry and morals (for the whole of Homer’s poetry is a praise of virtue, and every thing in him tends to this point, except that which is merely superfluous and for ornament) it may with great truth be said, that he who has the longest studied, and the most deeply imbibed, the spirit of the Hebrew