trait in the divinity would not render the poets that indulged in it unwelcome to the god; he could feel the sure faith and affection of his worshippers even in their good-humoured laughter at his imaginary plights and naughtiness. The clown was not excluded from these rites. His wit also counted as a service.

The Homeric Hymns, if we may trust the impression they produce on a modern, are not hymns and are not Homer's. They are fragments of narrative in Ionic hexameter recited during the feasts and fairs at various Greek shrines. They are not melodies to be chanted with a common voice by the assemblage during a sacrifice; they are tales delivered by the minstrel to the listening audience of citizens and strangers. They usually have a local reference. Thus we find under the title of a hymn to Apollo a song of Delos and one of Delphi. Delos is a barren rock; its wealth was due to the temple that attracted to the place pilgrimages and embassies, not without rich offerings, from many Greek cities. Accordingly we hear how Leto or Latona, when about to become the mother of Apollo, wandered about the cities and mountains of Greece and Asia, seeking a birthplace for her son. None would receive her, but all the islands trembled at the awful honour of such a nativity, profitable as the honour might eventually prove,—

 "Until at length The lovely goddess came to Delos' side And, making question, spake these wingèd words: 'Delos, were it thy will to be the seat Of my young son Apollo, brightest god, And build him a rich fane, no other power Should ever touch thee or work ill upon thee. I tell thee not thou shalt be rich in kine Or in fair flocks, much fruit, or myriad flowers; But when Apollo of the far-felt dart Hath here his shrine, all men will gather here Bringing thee hecatombs.... And though thy soil be poor, The gods shall make thee strong against thy foes.'" 

"Until at length

The spirit of the island is naturally not averse to so favourable a proposition but, like some too humble maiden wooed by a great prince, has some misgivings lest this promise of unexpected good fortune should veil the approach of some worse calamity. "When the god is born into the light of day," she says, "will he not despise me, seeing how barren I am, and sink me in the sea

 "That ever will Oppress my heart with many a watery hill? And therefore let him choose some other land, Where he shall please, to build at his command Temple and grove set thick with many a tree. For wretched polypuses breed in me, Retiring chambers, and black sea-calves den In my poor soil, for 

 Prev. P 18/162 next