When the wind is in impact with a cloud and by its force rends the cloud, it generates thunder and lightning. If the lightning falls, it sends a thunderbolt. Knowing this our poet speaks as follows (I. xvii.
595):-- His lightnings flash, his rolling thunders roar.
And in another place (O. xii. 415):-- In that same hour Zeus thundered and cast his bolt upon the ship.
Justly thinking men consider that gods exist, and first of all Homer.
For he is always recalling the gods (I. i. 406):-- The blessed gods living a happy life.
For being immortal they have an easy existence and an inexhaustible abundance of life. And they do not need food of which the bodies of mortal men have need (I. v. 341):-- They eat no bread, they drink no ruddy wine, And bloodless and deathless they become.
But poetry requires gods who are active; that he may bring the notion of them to the intelligence of his readers he gives bodies to the gods. But there is no other form of bodies than man's capable of understanding and reason. Therefore he gives the likeness of each one of the gods the greatest beauty and adornment. He has shown also that images and statues of the gods must be fashioned accurately after the pattern of a man to furnish the suggestion to those less intelligent, that the gods exist.
But the leader and head of all these, the chief god the best philosophers think, is without a body, and is rather comprehensible by the intelligence. Homer seems to assume this; by him Zeus is called (I.
iv. 68):-- The Sire of gods and men. O father ours, son of Kronos, chief of the greater beings.
And Zeus himself says (I. viii. 27):-- As much as I am better than gods and men.
And Athene says of him (I. viii. 32):-- Well do we know thy power invincible.
If it is necessary to ask how he knew that God was an object of the intelligence, it was not directly shown, as he was using poetic form combined with myth. Yet we can gather it from the things he says (I. i.
498):-- The all-seeing son of Saturn there she found sitting apart.
And where he himself says (I. xx. 22):-- Yet he will upon Olympus' lofty ridge remain and view serene the combat."
That solitude and the not mingling with the other gods, but being gladly by himself and using leisure for one directing and ordering all things, these constitute the character of an "intelligible" God. He knew besides that God is mind and understands all things, and governs all. For censuring Poseidon, he says (I. xiii. 354):-- Equal the rank of both, their birth the same, But Jupiter in wisdom as in years the first.
And this expression frequently is used "when he again thought over other things." This shows that he was ever in thought.
But to the mind of God pertain Providence and Fate, concerning which the philosophers have spoken much. The stimulus to this came from Homer,--why should any one insist on the providence of the gods? Since in all his poetry not only do they speak to one another on behalf of men, but descending on the earth they associate with men. A few things we shall look at for the sake of illustrations; among these is Zeus speaking to his brother (I. xx. 20):-- The purpose, Neptune, well thou know'st thyself For which I called thee; true, they needs must die, But still they claim my care.
And in other places (I. xxii. 168):-- A woful sight mine eyes behold: a man I love in plight around the walls! my heart For Hector grieves.
He refers to the royal dignity of the gods and their loving care of men, How should I forget divine Odysseus, who in understanding is beyond mortals, and beyond all men hath done sacrifice to the deathless gods who keep the wide heaven?
How he makes the gods mingling with and working with men themselves it is possible to learn completely in many passages for just as he represents Athene once helping Achilles and always aiding Odysseus, so he represents Hermes helping Priam, and again Odysseus, for he says (O.
xvii. 485):-- Yea even the gods, in the likeness of strangers from far countries, put on all manner of shapes, and wander through cities to watch the violence and the righteousness of men.
It is the characteristic of divine providence to wish men to live justly. This the poet indicates very clearly (O. xiv. 83):-- Verily it is not forward deeds the gods love, but they reverence justice and the righteous acts of men.
And (O. xvi. 386):-- When Jove Pours down his fiercest storms in wrath to men, Who in their courts unrighteous judgments pass.
Then just as he introduces the gods caring for men, so he represents men as mindful of them in every crisis. As the leader, succeeding in an action, says (I. viii. 526):-- Hopeful to Jove I pray, and all the gods To chase from hence these fate-inflicted hounds.
And in danger (I. xvii. 646):-- Father Jove, from o'er the sons of Greece, Remove this cloudy darkness.
And again when one has slayed another (I. xxii. 379):-- Since heaven has granted us this man to slay.
And dying (I. xxii. 358):-- But see I bring not down upon thy head the wrath of heaven.
From what other place than here did originate that doctrine of the Stoics? I mean this, that the world is one and in it both gods and men minister, sharing in justice by their nature. For when he says (I. xx.
4):-- Then Jove to Themis gave command to call The gods to council from the lofty height Of many ridg'd Olympus.
Why, Lord of lightning, hast thou summoned here The gods of council, dost thou aught desire Touching the Greeks and Trojans?
What does this mean except that the world is conducted by civilized laws and the gods consult under the presidency of the father of gods and men?
His opinion on fate he shows clearly in his poems (I. vi. 488):-- Dearest, wring not thus my heart, For till my day of destiny is come No man may take my life, and when it comes Nor brave, nor coward can escape that day.
But among the other things in which he confirms the power of fate, he thinks as the most-approved philosophers have thought after him,--Plato, Aristotle, and Theophrastus,--that not all things happen by fate, but some things are in the power of men, the choice of whom is free. The same man in a way acts as he desires and falls into what he does not desire. And this point of view he has clearly expounded in many places, as in the beginning of each of his poems: in the "Iliad" saying the wrath of Achilles was the cause of the destruction of the Greeks and that the will of Zeus was fulfilled; in the "Odyssey" that the comrades of Odysseus went to their destruction by their own folly. For they had offended by touching the sacred oxen of the Sun, although they could have abstained from doing so. Yet it was foreordained (O. xi. 110):-- But if thou hurtest them, I signify ruin for thy ships, and for thy men, and even though thou shalt thyself escape.
If thou doest them no hurt and art careful to return, so may ye yet reach Ithaca, albeit in evil case.
So not to violate them depended on themselves, but that those who had done the evil should perish follows from fate.
It is possible to avoid what happens accidentally by foresight as he shows in the following (O. v. 436):-- Then of a truth would luckless Odysseus have perished beyond what was ordained had not gray-eyed Athene given him some counsel. He rushed in and with both his hands clutched the rock whereto he clung till the great wave went by.
Then on the other hand running a great danger as he was, he had perished by fortune; yet by prudence he was saved.
Just as about divine things there are many divine reasonings in the philosophers taking their origin from Homer, so also with human affairs it is the same. First we will take up the subject of the soul. The most noble of the doctrines of Pythagoras and Plato is that the soul is immortal. To it in his argument Plato affixed wings. Who first determined this? Homer says this among other things (I. xvi. 856):-- But the soul flying on its members came to Hades,--i.e. into a formless and invisible place, whether you think it in the air or under the earth.
But in the "Iliad" he makes the soul of Patroclus stand by the side of Achilles (I. xxiii. 65):-- The soul of wretched Patroclus came.
He makes a small speech for him in which he says this (I. xxiii. 72):-- The spirits and spectres of departed men Drove me from them, nor allow to Cross the abhorred river.
In the "Odyssey" through the whole account of the descent to Hades what else does he show but that souls survive after death, and when they drink blood can speak. For he knows that blood is the food and drink of the spirit, but spirit is the same thing as soul or the vehicle of the soul.
123. Most clearly he reveals that he considers man is nothing else but soul, where he says (O. xi. 90):-- There came up the soul of the Theban Tiresias having a golden sceptre.
Purposely he changes the word for soul to the masculine, to show that it was Tiresias. And afterward (O. xi. 601):-- And after him I described the mighty Heracles, his phantom I say; but as for himself he hath joy at the banquet among the deathless gods.
For here again he showed that the semblance thrown off from the body appeared, but no longer connected with its matter. The purest part of the soul had gone away; this was Heracles himself.
124. Whence that seems to philosophers a probable theory that the body is in a way the prison house of the soul. And this Homer first revealed; that which belongs to the living he calls [Greek omitted] (from "binding") as in this line (I. i. 115):-- Not the body nor the nature.
O. iv. 196:-- A body came to the woman.
O. xvi. 251:-- By my form, my virtue, my body.
But that which has put off the soul he calls nothing else but body as in these lines (I. vii. 79):-- To bring home my body again.
And (O. xxiv. 187):-- The bodies lie uncared for in the hall of Odysseus.
O. xi. 53:-- And we left the body in the house of Circe.
For the same thing, while a man lives, was the bond of the soul; when he dies it is left, as it were, his monument.
To this is related also another doctrine of Pythagoras, namely, that the souls of the dead pass into other forms of bodies. This did not escape Homer's notice, for he made Hector talking with horses, and Antilochus and Achilles himself not only talking with them but listening to them, and a dog recognizing Odysseus before men, even before his intimates.
What other thing is he establishing but a community of speech and a relation of soul between men and beasts? Besides, there are those who ate up the oxen of the Sun and after this fell into destruction. Does he not show that not only oxen but all other living creatures, as sharers of the same common nature, are beloved by the gods?
The change of the comrades of Odysseus into swine and that type of animal signifies this, that the souls of undeserving men are changed into the likeness of brute beasts; they fall into the circular periphery of the whole, which he calls Circe; whereas she is justly represented as the child of the Sun, dwelling in the island of Aeaea, for this word [Greek omitted] is so called because men lament and wail by reason of death. But the prudent man Odysseus did not suffer the change, because from Hermes, i.e. reason, he had received immortality. He went down into Hades, as it were, dissolving and separating the soul from the body, and became a spectator of souls both good and bad.
The Stoics define the soul as a cognate spirit, sensible to exhalations.
It has its origin from the humid portions of the body. In this they follow Homer, who says (I. ix. 609).-- While the breath abides in the breast.
And again (I. xxiii. 100):-- Vanish'd like smoke, the spirit beneath the earth.
Here he makes the vital spirit, being humid, a breath; when it is extinguished he likens it to smoke. And the word "spirit" itself he uses for soul (I. xv. 262):-- His words fresh vigor in the chief infus'd.
And (I. iv. 524):-- Breathing away his spirit.
And (I. xxii. 475):-- But when her breath and spirit returned again.
That is, she collected her distracted spirit (I. v. 697):-- But soon revived, as on his forehead blew, While yet he gasped for breath, the cooling breeze.
While his spirit was failing him in a faint, the outside breeze having a natural affinity to it brought him back to life. This argument is strengthened because for the external spirit he uses the word "soul," saying (I. xxiii. 440):-- He turned aside with lightest breath.
He wishes to say: "Having got back his breath."
Plato and Aristotle considered the soul incorporeal, but always associating with the body and needing it as a vehicle. On this account, then, it drew along the spiritual matter with it, oftentimes as an image, which had the shape of the body impressed upon it. So therefore Homer is never in his poetry found calling the soul body, but to what is deprived of soul he always gives the name, as we have mentioned in what has gone before.
The soul has, according to the views of the philosophers, a rational part, seated in the head, and an irrational part of which one element, the passionate, dwells in the heart and another, the appetitive, in the intestines. Did not Homer see this distinction when he made in the case of Achilles, the rational struggling with the passionate, deliberating in the same moment whether he should drive off the one who had filled him with grief or should stay his anger (I. i. 193):-- Up to this time he revolved these things in his mind and heart, that is, the intelligent part and what is opposed to it? The emotional anger is represented by him as overcome by prudence. For the appearance of Athene signifies this. And in these places he makes reason admonish the emotions, as a ruler giving orders to a subject (O. xx. 18):-- Endure my heart; yea, a baser thing thou once didst bear.
And often the passionate element gives way to reason (I. xx. 22):-- Pallas indeed sat silent and though inly wroth with Jove, yet answered not a word.
Likewise injury (I. xviii. 112):-- Though still my heart be sore, Yet will I school my angry spirit down.
Sometimes he shows the passionate element getting the better of reason.
This he does not praise, but openly blames; as when Nestor speaks upbraiding the insult offered by Agamemnon to Achilles (I. ix. 108):-- Not by my advice I fain would have dissuaded thee; but thou, Swayed by the promptings of a lofty soul, Didst to our bravest wrong dishonoring him Whom ev'n the Immortals honor'd.
Achilles speaks like things to Ajax (I. ix. 645):-- All thou hast said hath semblance just and fair, But swells my heart with fury at the thought of him, Of Agamemnon, who, amid the Greeks Assembled, held me forth to scorn.
So, too, reason is paralysed by fear, where Hector deliberates whether he will abide the conflict with Achilles (I. xxii. 129):-- Better to dare the fight and know at once To whom Olympian Jove the triumph wills, Then he withdraws when he gets near Achilles (I. xxii. 136):-- Nor dared he there await th' attack, but left The gates behind, and terror-stricken fled.
It is also plain that he places the emotions about the heart. Anger as (O. xx. 13):-- The heart within barked for him.
Grief (I. xiv. 128):-- How long, my son, wilt thou thy soul consume with grief an mourning?
And leaps my troubled heart as tho' it would burst My bosom's bounds; my limbs beneath me shake.
In the same way just as fear, so he declares daring to be about the heart (I. xvi. 11):-- And fix'd in every breast The fierce resolve to wage unwearied war.
From these passages the Stoics took the opinion that the leading element is about the heart. That the appetitive element is placed in the intestines in many places he declares; in these verses, for example (O.
xviii. 54):-- But my belly's call is urgent on me, that evil worker,-- and (O. xvii. 286):-- But now may conceal a ravening belly, a thing accursed.
And the causes which belong to the passionate element of the soul he says happen by nature. For wrath created by grief he shows is a kind of effervescence of the blood and the spirit in it as in the following (I.
i. 103):-- His dark soul filled with fury, and his eyes flashing like flames of fire.
For he seemed to call spirit [Greek omitted], i.e. wrath, and this in the case of those who are angry he thinks is extended and inflamed.
Again the spirit, if there is fear, is perturbed and made cold, generates tremors and terrors and pallors in the body. Pallor, by the heat coursing into the interior ruddiness leaves the surface. Tremor, because being, confined within the spirit it shakes the body. Terror, because when the moisture is congealed the hairs are contracted and stand on end. All of these Homer clearly indicates when he says (I. xv.
4):-- Pallid from fear.
And (I. vii. 479):-- Pallid fear lay hold on him.
(I. x. 95):-- My valiant members tremble.
And (I. xxiv. 358):-- The old man heard, his mind confus'd with dread, So grievously he fear'd that every hair Upon his bended head did stand on end.
According to these passages for "feared" he says "frozen" and "fear" he calls "freezing." On the other hand, for "daring" and "courage" he uses [Greek omitted], "heat." Evil effects, he distinguishes in these ways.
Again when Aristotle considers indignation a mercy among the generous emotions (for when good men are stirred because their neighors seem to succeed beyond their worth, it is called indignation. When they, beyond their desert, have misfortunes, it is called pity.) These two Homer considers to belong, to the good, for he reckons them as belonging to Zeus. Other passages he has as well as the following (I. xi. 542):-- But Jove, high-throned, the soul of Ajax filled with fear.
And in other places he pities him being chased about the wall.
What opinion the poet had about virtue and vice he shows in many places.
For since one part of the soul is intelligent and rational, and the other devoid of reason and open to emotions, and on this account man has a middle position between God and brute, he thinks the highest, virtue, is divine, and the other extremity, evil, is brutelike. Just as later on Aristotle thought, he adopts these principles in his companions. For he always considers good men to be like gods, and as he says (I. ii.
167):-- By a counsel not, unworthy of Zeus.
Among the evil ones he names cowards (I. xiii. 102):-- Like to timid stags,-- and to sheep without a shepherd and to hares in flight. About those borne headlong and heedlessly to anger (I. xvii. 20):-- Nor pard, nor lion, nor the forest boar, Fiercest of beasts, and provident of his strength In their own esteem With Panthous' sons for courage nor may vie.
The laments of those grieving to no purpose he compares to the sounds of birds (O. xvi. 218):-- Where Younglings the country folk have taken from the nest ere yet they are fledged.
The Stoics who place virtue in apathy follow the passages in which he takes up every feeling, saying about grief (I. xix. 218):-- Behoves us bury out of sight our dead, Steeling our heart and weeping but a day.
And (I. xvi. 7):-- Why weep over Patroclus as a girl?
About anger (I. xviii. 107):-- May strife perish from gods and men.
Do not speak of fear, if thou thinkest to persuade me.
And (O. xv. 494):-- Struck and smitten seeing fate and death, he fell heroicly from the sword. So those challenged to single combat obey fearlessly, and several arise to take the place of one.
And the wounded man has none the less abiding courage.
(I. xi. 388):-- And now because thy shaft has grazed my foot, thou mak'st thy empty boast.
And every valiant person is likened to a lion, boar, to a torrent and whirlwind.
Now the Peripatetics think that freedom from emotion is unattainable by men. They bring in a certain mean; by taking away excess of feeling, they define virtue by moderation. And Homer brings in the best men neither feeble nor altogether fearless nor devoid of pain, but yet differing from the worst in not being overcome extravagantly by their feelings. For he says (I. xiii. 279):-- The cowards color changes, nor his soul Within his heart its even balance keeps But changing still, from foot to foot he shifts, And in his bosom loudly beats his heart Expecting death; and chatter all his teeth.
The brave man's color changes not with fear, He knows the ambush ent'ring.
For it is evident that by taking away excessive fear from the good man he leaves the mean between the two. The same must be thought about the like emotions, pain and anger. To this effect is that verse of his (I.
vii. 215):-- The Trojans' limbs beneath them shrank with fear, E'en Hector's heart beat quicker in his breast, The others, even at the sight, trembled.
But he, in the midst of dangers being brave, was only troubled. So he makes Dolon and Lycaon feeling fear; Ajax and Menelaus, turning gradually and going away step by step, as lions driven from their quarry. In the same way he shows the differences of those who grieve and also of those who rejoice. As Odysseus, relating the way he deceived the Cyclops, says (O. ix. 413):-- My heart within me laughed.
The suitors seeing the beggar laying on the ground (O. xviii. 100):-- But the proud wooers threw up their hands, and cried outright for laughter.
But in more trivial matters the difference of moderation appears.
Odysseus though loving his wife, and seeing her lamenting on his account, contains himself (O. xix. 211):-- His eyes kept steadfast between his eyelids as it were horn or iron.
But the suitors who were in love with her when they saw her (O. xviii.
212):-- And straightways the knees of the wooers were loosened, and their hearts were enchanted with love, and each one uttered a prayer that he might be her bedfellow.
Such is the poet's treatment of the powers and passions of the soul.
Although there are various things said by the philosophers about the chief end of virtue and happiness, it is agreed by all that virtue of the soul is the greatest of goods. But the Stoics consider that virtue by itself is sufficient for happiness, taking the cue from the Homeric poems in which he has made the wisest and most prudent man on account of virtue despising trouble and disregarding pleasure. As to the first point in this way (O. iv. 242):-- Now all of them I could not tell or number, so many as were the adventures of the patient Odysseus. He bruised himself with unseemly stripes and cast a sorry covering over his shoulders, and in the fashion of a servant he went into the wide-wayed city of the foemen.
And as to the second, i.e. (O. ix. 29):-- Vainly Calypso, the fair goddess, would fain have kept me with her in her hollow caves longing to have me for her lord.
Circe of Aia would have stayed me in her halls, longing to have me for her lord. But never did they prevail upon my heart within my breast.
Especially does he expound his opinion of virtue in the passages in which he makes Achilles not only brave but most beautiful in form, and swiftest of foot, and most illustrious in birth and distinguished in race and aided by the chiefest of the gods; and Odysseus understanding and firm in soul--in other respects not enjoying an equal fortune.
His stature and aspect not conspicuous, his parentage not altogether noteworthy, his country obscure, hated by a god who was all but first.
None of these things prevented him from being famous, from gaining the chief good of the soul.
But the Peripatetic School think the goods of the soul have the pre-eminence, such as prudence, fortitude, temperance, justice.
Afterward are those of the body, such as health, strength, beauty, swiftness; and there are besides external goods such as reputation, nobility, wealth. For they think any one worthy of praise and admiration if he, fortified by the protective virtues of the soul, holds out against evils in the midst of sufferings, disease, want, unforeseen accidents, but that this situation is not a desirable nor a happy one.
For not only the possession of virtue do they think good, but its use and its activity. And these distinctions Homer directly showed, for he always makes the gods (O. viii. 325):-- The givers of good things,-- these things also men pray the gods to furnish them, as being plainly neither useless to them nor indifferent, but advantageous to happiness.
What the goods are men aim at, and through which they are called happy, he declares in many places. But all of them together were centred in Hermes (I. xxiv. 376):-- Blessed are thy parents in a son so grac'd, In face and presence, and of mind so wise.
He bears witness to his beauty of body, his intelligence, and his lineage. Separately he takes them up (I. vi. 156):-- On whom the gods bestowed The gifts of beauty and of manly grace, And Zeus poured out lordly wealth,-- for this, too, is a gift of God (O. vi. 188):-- For Zeus himself gives prosperity to mortals.
Sometimes he esteems honor a good (I. viii. 540):-- Would that I might be adored as Athene and Apollo.
Sometimes good fortune in children (O. iii. 196):-- So good a thing it is that a son of the dead should be left.
Sometimes, too, the benefit of one's family (O. xiii. 39):-- Pour ye the drink offering, and send me safe on my way, and as for you, fare ye well. For now I have all my heart's desire,--an escort and loving gifts. May the gods of heaven give me good fortune with them and may I find my noble wife in my home, and my friends unharmed while ye, for your part, abide here, and make glad your gentle wives and children, and may the gods vouchsafe all manner of good and may no evil come, nigh the people.
That in a comparison of goods valor is better than wealth, he shows in the following (I. ii. 872):-- With childish folly to the war he came, Laden with stress of gold; yet naught availed His gold to save him from the doom of death.
And (O. iv. 93):-- I have no joy of my lordship among these my possessions.
And that intelligence is better than beauty of form (O. viii. 169):-- For one man is feebler than another in presence, yet the gods crown his words with beauty.
It is evident that bodily excellence and external things he considers as good, and that without these virtue alone is not sufficient for happiness he declares in the following way. He created two men who attained to the height of virtue, Nestor and Odysseus, different indeed from one another, but like one another in prudence and valor and power of eloquence. He has made them not at all equal in fortune, but on the side of Nestor he has placed the gods (O. iv. 208):-- Right easily is known that man's seed for whom Cronion weaves the skein of luck at bridal and at birth, even as now hath he granted prosperity to Nestor forever, for all his days, that he himself should grow into smooth old age in his halls, and his sons moreover should be wise and the best of spearsmen.
But Odysseus, though shrewd and clever and prudent, he often calls unfortunate. For Nestor goes back home quickly and safely, but Odysseus wanders about for a long time and endures constantly innumerable sufferings and dangers. So it is a desirable and blessed thing if fortune is at hand helping and not opposing virtue.
How the possession of virtue is of no use unless it accomplishes something, is evident from the passages where Patroclus complains to Achilles and says (I. xvi. 31):-- Whoe'er may hope in future days by thee To profit, if thou now forbear to save The Greeks from shame and loss.
So he speaks to him because he makes his virtue useless by inactivity.
Achilles himself deplores his inactivity (I. xviii. 104:):-- But idly here I sit cumb'ring the ground, I, who amid the Greeks no equal own In fight,-- for he laments because though possessing virtue he does not make use of it; but being indignant with the Greeks (I. i. 490):-- No more he sought The learned council, nor the battlefield; But wore his soul away, and only pined For the fierce joy and tumult of the fight.
And so Phoenix admonished him (I, ix. 433):-- To teach thee how to frame Befitting speech, and mighty deeds achieve.
After his death he is indignant at that inertia, saying (O. xi. 489):-- Rather would I live upon the soil as the hireling of another with a lordless man who had no great livelihood, than bear sway among the dead that are no more.
And he adds the cause (O. xi. 498):-- For I am no longer his champion under the sun, so mighty a man as once I was, when in wide Troy I slew the best of the host, succoring the Argives.
That saying of the Stoics, that good men are friends of the gods, is taken from Homer, who says about Amphiaerus (O. xv. 245):-- Whom Zeus, lord of the ages, and Apollo loved with all manner of love.
And of Odysseus (O. iii. 52):-- And Athene rejoiced in the wisdom and judgment of the man.
There is, too, an opinion of the same philosophic school that virtue is teachable, and has for its beginning good birth. For Homer says (O. iv.
206):-- And from such a sire thou too art sprung, wherefore thou dost even speak wisely.
And by training it is brought to perfection. For virtue is the knowledge of living rightly, i.e. of doing the things which it is necessary for those who live well to do. These principles can also be found in Homer, for he says (I. ix. 440):-- Inexperienced yet in war, that sorrow brings alike on all And sage debate in which attends renown.
And in other places (I. vi. 446):-- Nor did my heart compel me, since I had learnt to be good, And Phoenix says of Achilles (I. ix. 442):-- Me then he sent, to teach thee how to frame Befitting speech, and mighty deeds achieve.
For since life is made up of acts and speech, therefore he says he was the young man's teacher in these things. From what has been said it is plain that he declares the whole of virtue to be teachable. So, then, Homer is the first philosopher in ethics and in philosophy.
Now to the same science belongs arithmetic and music, which Pythagoras especially honored. Let us see whether these are mentioned by our poet.
Very often. A few examples from very many will suffice. For Pythagoras thought number had the greatest power and reduced everything to numbers--both the motions of the stars and the creation of living beings. And he established two supreme principles,--one finite unity, the other infinite duality. The one the principle of good, the other of evil. For the nature of unity being innate in what surrounds the whole creation gives order to it, to souls virtue, to bodies health, to cities and dwellings peace and harmony, for every good thing is conversant with concord. The nature of duality is just the contrary,--to the air disturbance, to souls evil, to bodies disease, to cities and dwellings factions and hostilities. For every evil comes from discord and disagreement. So he demonstrates of all the successive numbers that the even are imperfect and barren; but the odd are full and complete, because joined to the even they preserve their own character. Nor in this way alone is the odd number superior, but also added to itself it generates an even number. For it is creative, it keeps its original force and does not allow of division, since PER SE the mind is superior. But the even added to itself neither produces the odd nor is indivisible. And Homer seems to place the nature of the one in the sphere of the good, and the nature of the dual in the opposite many times. Often he declares a good man to be [Greek omitted] "kind" and the adjective from it is "benignity"; as follows (I. ii. 204):-- It is not good for many to reign, let there be but one ruler.
And (O. iii. 127):-- We never spake diversely either in the assembly or in the council, but always were of one mind.
He always makes use of the uneven number as the better. For making the whole world to have five parts, three of these being the mean, he divides it (I. xv. 189):-- Threefold was our portion each obtained, His need of honor due.
Therefore, too, Aristotle thought there were five elements, since the uneven and perfect number had everywhere the predominance. And to the heavenly gods he gives the uneven shares. For Nestor nine times to Poseidon sacrificed nine bulls; and Tiresias bids Odysseus sacrifice (O.
xi. 131):-- A ram and a bull and a boar, the mate of swine.
But Achilles immolated for Patroclus, all in even numbers, four horses and (I. xxiii. 175):-- Twelve noble sons he slew, the sons of Troy,-- and of nine dogs he casts two on the pyre, in order to leave for himself seven. And in many places he uses the ternary, quinary, and septenary number, especially the number nine (I. vii. 161):-- The old man spoke reproachfully; at his words Uprose nine warriors.
And (O. xi. 311):-- At nine seasons old they were of breadth nine cubits, and nine fathoms in height.
(I. i. 53):-- Nine days the heavenly Archer on the troops hurl'd his dread shafts.
And (I. vi 174):-- Nine days he feasted him, nine oxen slew.
Why pray, is the number nine the most perfect? Because it is the square of the first odd number, and unevenly odd since it is divided into three triads, of which again each is divided into three units.
But not only the virtue of numbers but a natural way of counting he showed, as in the catalogue of ships he made (I. ii. 509):-- With these came fifty ships; and in each Were sixscore youths, Boeotia's noblest flow'r.
And again (I. xvi. 170):-- They were fifty men.
Whence it is possible to compute that as all the ships were near 1200, and each had 100 men, the whole number is 12 myriads--120,000.
Again speaking. of the Trojans (I. viii. 563):-- A thousand fires burnt brightly; and round each Sat fifty warriors in the ruddy glare.
He enables one to compute that without counting allies they were 50,000 men.
Now music being closest to the soul, since it is a harmony produced by