CHAPTER V.

On the Determination of the Age of a Mythus from the Mention of it in Authors.

By the exposition in the preceding chapter, I have also sought to obviate the tendency to confound the literary aids to a knowledge of the mythus with its sources properly so called; which is one of the most dangerous errors in this study, inasmuch as it defeats investigation beforehand. For on this tendency is founded the notion, that in the history of Greek mythi nothing more is required, than to point out in what poet or author a mythus first appears, and to determine its age accordingly. This notion is seldom so roundly expressed, but it evidently lies at the bottom of many mythological investigations; and, in particular, is frequently employed in order to separate Homeric and post-Homeric mythology. But, in the first place, this method can never yield a scientific connexion, as, on the one hand, the most important literary sources of the mythus have been lost for where are to be found the ante-Homeric Hymns, Argonautics, Heracleas, Iliads-those lays, each of which had in its day the highest renown?1 Where that long succession of poets who followed Homer in the epos? And as, on the other hand, the great mass of mythi have only come to us through compilers, without any information as to the poet who 1 Od., viii. 74. Comp., i. 351.

first treated them. But, in the second place, even if we were in possession of the most complete mythic literature, both in prose and poetry, we should still be unable to determine how far any writer's knowledge of mythi extended. For we certainly cannot, in all cases, infer ignorance from silence. I am touching upon a question which, although it is of great importance and calls loudly for an answer, has usually been cunningly evaded; and the assumption has been gratuitously formed, that as Homer evinces a tolerably connected knowledge of the business of life at that time, he also contains a complete system of mythology. Now, then, what must the poet notice that it may not be inferred he was quite ignorant of it? How far does "eloquent silence" extend? Where does the utterly unimportant and insignificant cease? "No one will require that the poet, besides the mythus which it is his business to treat, should mention every local tradition, every insignificant mythological personage, of whom he may have accidentally heard; he should, however, introduce important mythi, distinguished heroes, if he knew about them." But where is the boundary of that which is of so much moment that it must necessarily force itself somewhere on the poet's attention? So far as I can understand, all is here uncertain-all arbitrary; and I look around in vain for a criterion by which a philosophical procedure may be directed. However, there are unquestionably passages in the poets, especially Homer, in which ignorance of certain mythi is manifested in a more decided manner; and which evidently would have been different from what they are, if these mythi had been known to them. This only

F

brings us, however, to the third position. A poet's ignorance of a mythus, is no proof whatever of its nonexistence. How did Homer come to the knowledge of a mythus? Nobody will believe that the entire mythology of Greece was at that period already embodied in song; it lived, for the most part, merely in the mouths of the people throughout the various districts of Greece. Now, can we imagine that the bard wandered from place to place, inquiring everywhere, and collecting the stories current among the people regarding their heroes and their gods? Such a striving after comprehensive and philosophical knowledge is utterly foreign to the character of those early poetic ages; and, moreover, such a search after mythi would have been to Homer perfectly useless, as it was not his design to sing all the combats and deeds of the olden heroic time, but merely a portion of the Trojan war. In the north of Thessaly, therefore, at Delphi, and elsewhere, a rich abundance of legends-telling of ancient cities destroyed, of flourishing sanctuaries, of Hyperboreans, and so forth -might have existed, without the slightest echo of them having ever reached the ears of Homer. only try to give ourselves an answer to the question, What, then, ought to be the geographical extent of Homer's legendary lore? "It is certainly not required that he should-not to speak of a wider circuit -be conversant with Phrygian and Thracian legends; but those of Epirus, Thessaly, and Ætolia, must be supposed in part to have had no existence, because he seems to have been unacquainted with them"! Besides, I have said nothing here yet of the probability that Homer may have passed over in silence

Let us

many things which he knew right well, not from systematic design, or prudent calculation, (for instance, because he may possibly have been unfavourable to certain religious views,) but from a feeling that they were unsuitable to his style of poetry; and for this reason, also, that the Iliad and Odyssey, as isolated human productions, could not possibly exhibit all the tendencies of the human mind. Thus, it seems to me clear, that a poet who several times calls bread the "gift of Demeter," had daily opportunity of thanking, with devotional feeling, the benignant goddess; but we can even now understand why the mystic Earth-mother could not with propriety be introduced into the circle of the gods contending about Troy, and so actively interested in behalf of the heroes. Homer could, therefore, only take a passing notice of the mythi relating to Demeter when a particular opportunity offered; and he did so twice. Now, bearing this in view, what conclusion can altogether be drawn from the fact, that there are very few mythi of mystical strain and tenor to be found in Homer? Not, assuredly, that there existed no more; or that, even in these few, what appears mystical can be explained away: but only, perhaps, that the mystical element of religion could not have predominated in the Grecian people, for whom Homer sang, to such a degree as to fill the hearts and the minds of all; for otherwise the poems of Homer, in which that element is but little regarded, would scarcely have afforded universal pleasure and satisfaction.

I think I may conclude, that a truly critical inquirer will, from no mention of a mythus being made

in Homer, or other ancient poets, at the utmost consider himself justified in deciding, that it was not known at that time in the district where the poet lived and sang; and thus far even, only if the mention of it might have otherwise readily occurred to him, and if it was in accordance with the plan of the poem, in keeping with the whole. But in order to prove the non-existence of the mythus, arguments of greater weight, and drawn from a deeper source, are required. The mythus itself, comprehended in the process of its formation, can alone solve the question as to its age: if it be first granted that any particular narration is a mythus, and not a literary fiction: for so soon as we have assured ourselves of the latter, we know also, at the same time, that we can no longer reach the primary source of the mythus, no longer hear the evidence of its real framers. No external authentic testimony, therefore, to the age of a mythus can be obtained. For even supposing an ancient author said to us, "This mythus was formed at such a time, and in such circumstances;" a statement of this kind could be nothing more than a philosophical conclusion, of which we should ourselves require to undertake the proof; for the earlier transmitters of the mythuspoets for the most part-did not hand it down as a fabrication, but as a fact. The main point, therefore, is to take counsel with the mythus itself as to its origin, and consequently as to its age. For my own part, to give an example, unless I felt convinced that I had successfully taken this course, I should never have ventured to pronounce the story of Sais in Egypt being the native place of Cecrops, a production of comparatively recent times, and to exclude it