Eumelus, Diomede, King Menelaus, and Antilochus. It was allowed by all that Eumelus' horses were far the best, but nevertheless his chariot breaks down during the race, and he loses all chance of a prize. Accordingly Diomede comes in an easy winner, but there is a sharp contest between Menelaus and Antilochus ; they are running neck-and-neck, when they come to a narrow part of the course, into which Antilochus dashes, knowing that Menelaus is timid, and afraid. of a collision. Menelaus calls out to him to forbear until they have reached open ground, but Antilochus pretends not to hear him; so the cautious king pulls up, with a protest that Antilochus shall not carry off the second prize without taking an oath that he drove fairly. While the chariots are still in the distance, some betting goes on at what we may call the grand stand, but is repressed gently by Achilles, who acts as umpire, because the chiefs begin to lose their tempers. Presently Diomede comes in first, Antilochus second, King Menelaus third, and the favourite, Eumelus, last. Achilles, moved with pity at his wretched plight, proposes, with great courtesy, to award him the second prize, as everybody acknowledged his horses to be the best. To this most unconstitutional proceeding Antilochus objects, tells Achilles he may give any present he likes to Eumelus, but as for the second prize, which was fairly won, he should only resign it with his life. Achilles accordingly cedes the point, and gives Eumelus a handsome present, to console him for his misfortune.

But hereupon Menelaus interferes, and protests

that he was jostled by Antilochus ; but mark, he does not propose to refer the case to umpires, but merely asks Antilochus to take a solemn oath before the gods that he did not intentionally play foul. I quote the rest of the story from Lord Derby's translation :—

“To whom, Antilochus, with prudent speech—
Have patience with me yet, for I, O king!

O Menelaus, am thy junior far;

My elder and superior, thee, I own.

Thou knowest the o'er eager vehemence of youth;
How quick in temper, and in judgment weak ;
Set then thine heart at ease, the mare I won
I freely give, and, if aught else of mine
Thou shouldst desire, would sooner give it all
Than all my life be lowered, illustrious king,
In thine esteem, and sin against the gods.
Thus saying, noble Nestor's son led forth,
And placed in Menelaus' hands the mare.
The monarch's soul was melted like the dew
That glitters on the ears of growing corn
That bristle o'er the plain, even so thy soul,
O Menelaus, melted at his speech,

To whom were thus addressed thy winged words:
Antilochus, at once I lay aside

My anger-thou art prudent, and not apt

To be thus led astray; but now, thy youth

Thy judgment hath o'erpowered, seek not henceforth,
By trickery, o'er thine elders to prevail.
To any other man, of all the Greeks,

I scarce as much had yielded; but, for that
Thyself hast laboured much, and much endured-
Thou, thy good sire, and brother, in my cause,
I yield me to thy prayers, and give to boot

The mare, though mine of right, that these may know
I am not of a harsh unyielding mood."

You see in this narrative, a solemn oath taking exactly the place of a gentleman's word of honour in modern times; and you also see that word of honour trusted under circumstances which would hardly satisfy the frequenters of modern race-courses. The whole story, indeed, illustrates, not only the Homeric notion of honour and fair play, but also that of politeness and regard for the feelings of others, to which I next invite your attention.

However rude these heroes may have been to their inferiors, among themselves they had a very strict code of gentlemanly conduct. At these very games, from which I have just cited a scene, there occurs another even more prominent example of true politeness. Agamemnon, though the king of men, and commander of all the forces, was not a hero of great valour or ability, and had therefore not been bold enough to compete with his subordinate chiefs for the prizes, as he could ill afford to be defeated. He had, moreover, just before been humiliated, and forced to apologise to Achilles. Accordingly, this most gentlemanly hero, fearing that the great king would feel slighted by the result, proposes an apparently sham contest with the spear, and when the competitors start up, declares, there is no use in wasting time in the combat, as every body knows that Agammenon is superior to all, and forthwith presents him with the first prize. What a graceful and delicate act of politeness! So, also, we find the chivalrous Menelaus, when Telemachus has been staying on a visit with him, and presently desires to depart, telling him, that he will

not press him excessively to stay. He thinks it as ill-bred to annoy your friends with excessive solicitations, as it is to give them a cold welcome. If Telemachus will stay, he will be delighted; but if he desires to go, he must not be thwarted in his wishes. This may seem a trifling point, but is it not a striking proof of good breeding, even in the present day.

There are, however, conditions of civilization, where men have consideration for the feelings of equals, but not for those of inferiors, and we justly regard it as the highest test of refinement, to find in the relations of men toward the lower classes and the weaker sex, that delicacy and respect, which they justly claim but cannot enforce. And the Homeric hero may safely submit even to this test. The relations between masters and servants, in the sketches of household life left us by Homer, afford a very pleasing picture. Gentle consideration and indulgence on the part of the masters, is requited by enduring faithfulness and affection on the part of the servants. And among the crimes of the suitors of Penelope, which the poet evidently details, in order to satisfy his hearers with their awful punishment, their insulting conduct towards servants and towards mendicants, is, perhaps, that on which he most depends to excite a strong aversion against them. But even these lawless suitors of Penelope, who lived in rude riot and wanton wassail in her absent lord's palace, are hushed in respectful silence, when the queen appears in the hall, attended by her handmaidens. And, if such was the force of society upon lawless and godless

men, what must have been the influence of the same forces upon a hero of refinement and piety, like Ulysses. Nothing, in any age or any poem, can exceed the delicate politeness of his conduct towards the ladies and chiefs of the Phæakians, upon whose shores he was cast, a naked and desolate exile; nor are they wanting in the same excellent qualities.

He first meets with the princess Nausikaa and her maidens, who are occupied washing clothes in the river.* The maidens fly at the sight of the naked hero; but the princess, with greater dignity, waits to hear his story. His delicacy forbids him to fall at her knees, as was usual for suppliants, and he addresses her from a distance, in a strain of the most courteous flattery. Nausikaa, perceiving that he is no ordinary man, calls back her maidens, and apologises for their idle fears. She gives him food and raiment, and proposes to drive him home to the palace; for the beauty and dignity of the hero have made a deep impression upon her. But she objects to driving with him through the city, as she fears gossip, which may arise from her being seen in company with a handsome stranger; and indeed, she herself objects to young girls mixing too freely in society before they are married. So she requests him to leave her when they approach the town, and directs him how to find his way to the palace. He enters as a suppliant, and obtains the favour of King Alkinous and his princes. After the manner of the age, they give him supper, and propose, that after he has had a night's

* Cf. Odyssey, lib. vi.