From this criticism, which shows as much insight into the depths of human nature as into the minute wire-drawings of scholastic investigation, let us pass on to the main question at issue.  Was Homer an individual? or were the Iliad and Odyssey the result of an ingenious arrangement of fragments by earlier poets?

Well has Landor remarked:  “Some tell us there were twenty Homers; some deny that there was ever one.  It were idle and foolish to shake the contents of a vase, in order to let them settle at last.  We are perpetually labouring to destroy our delights, our composure, our devotion to superior power.  Of all the animals on earth we least know what is good for us.  My opinion is, that what is best for us is our admiration of good.  No man living venerates Homer more than I do.”

But, greatly as we admire the generous enthusiasm which rests contented with the poetry on which its best impulses had been nurtured and fostered, without seeking to destroy the vividness of first impressions by minute analysis, our editorial office compels us to give some attention to the doubts and difficulties with which the Homeric question is beset, and to entreat our reader, for a brief period, to prefer his judgment to his imagination, and to condescend to dry details.  Before, however, entering into particulars respecting the question of this unity of the Homeric poems, (at least of the Iliad,) I must express my sympathy with the sentiments expressed in the following remarks:—­

“We cannot but think the universal admiration of its unity by the better, the poetic age of Greece, almost conclusive testimony to its original composition.  It was not till the age of the grammarians that its primitive integrity was called in question; nor is it injustice to assert, that the minute and analytical spirit of a grammarian is not the best qualification for the profound feeling, the comprehensive conception of an harmonious whole.  The most exquisite anatomist may be no judge of the symmetry of the human frame; and we would take the opinion of Chantrey or Westmacott on the proportions and general beauty of a form, rather than that of Mr. Brodie or Sir Astley Cooper.

“There is some truth, though some malicious exaggeration, in the lines of Pope:—­

    “’The critic eye—­that microscope of wit—­
    Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit;
    How parts relate to parts, or they to whole. 
    The body’s harmony, the beaming soul,
    Are things which Kuster, Burmann, Wasse, shall see,
    When man’s whole frame is obvious to a flea.’”

Long was the time which elapsed before any one dreamt of questioning the unity of the authorship of the Homeric poems.  The grave and cautious Thucydides quoted without hesitation the Hymn to Apollo, the authenticity of which has been already disclaimed by modern critics.  Longinus, in an oft-quoted passage, merely expressed an opinion touching the comparative inferiority of the Odyssey to the Iliad; and, among a mass of ancient authors, whose very names it would be tedious to detail, no suspicion of the personal non-existence of Homer ever arose.  So far, the voice of antiquity seems to be in favour of our early ideas on the subject:  let us now see what are the discoveries to which more modern investigations lay claim.