who has a nine days' float on a mast to the island of Calyp'so. With this charming immortal he resides seven years.

The next scene in the story brings us to Ithaca, where Ulysses has been landed by the Phæa'cians. Here the goddess Pallas transforms him in appearance to an old beggar, and instructs him what course to pursue. Thus disguised he is entertained by Eumæ'us, his master of the swine, to whom comes Telemachus, on his way home, having escaped the plot laid by his mother's suitors for his destruction.

Making himself known to his son, Ulysses is brought into the palace, where the insolent suitors are at their revels. The poet here introduces an exquisite touch of nature. Among all present the long-absent wanderer is recognized only by his old dog Argus, who staggers to his feet, feebly expresses his joy in his master's return, and falls dead.

"And when he marked Ulysses on the way,
And could no longer to his lord draw near,
Fawned with his tail, and drooped in feeble play
His ears. Ulysses, turning, wiped a tear."

Meanwhile preparations are being made by Telemachus for the overthrow of the suitors, all arms being quietly removed from the hall. In the next scene Penelope brings forth the bow of Ulysses, offering her hand to him among the suitors who can bend it. One by one they strive in vain with the stubborn ash. But the disguised hero bends it with ease, and with wonderful skill sends an arrow whizzing through the rings of a row of twelve axes set up in line.

Then follows a scene as exciting and warlike as the battle scenes of the Iliad.

"Stript of his rags then leaped the godlike King

On the great threshold, in his hand the bow,
And quiver filled with arrows of mortal sting.
These with a rattle he rained down below,

Loose at his feet, and spake among them so;
'See! at the last our matchless bout is o'er!

Now for another mark, that I may know
If I can hit what none hath hit before,

And if Apollo heed me in the prayer I pour."

-Worsley.

The indignant lord of the castle turns his bow now with deadly effect upon the suitors, the arrows whizzing among them with death upon every shaft. He is ably seconded by Telemachus and Eumæus, and an awful scene of terror and bloodshed ensues, the insulted dignity of the husband being fearfully avenged in the terrible death of his enemies.

The story ends in the hero making himself known to his faithful wife, Penelope, and his old father, Laertes, in the defeat of the friends of the wooers, and the full recovery of his kingdom by its long-absent lord.

There are numerous translations of the works of Homer which possess very various degrees of merit; though it is conceded that the full spirit and character of the original has not yet been reproduced.

The principal English translations are the spirited though imperfect one of Chapman, the elegant but modernized version of Pope, and the blank-verse translations of Cowper, of the Earl of Derby, and of our American poet Bryant.

Of foreign translations the most noted is that by Voss into German hexameters, which reproduction of the Homeric versification has been performed with wonderful skill.

HE'SIOD.

FLOURISHED ABOUT 800 B.C.

This writer, the second Greek author whose works have descended to us, is as obscure, so far as chronology is concerned, as Homer, though the events of his life are much

better known. His period, like that of Homer, is placed at about 850 B.C., and with as little substantial reason. As to which of these two authors preceded the other in point of time nothing is known, though Hesiod has not as stable a claim as Homer to be considered the earliest of the classic writers.

In the character of his works he deviates widely from Homer, and possesses, in common with him, the merit of establishing a special school of literature. This field, however, like the field of the warlike epic, may have been cultivated by many previous authors, these earliest extant writers reaping the harvests sown by their vanished prede

cessors.

However that be, Hesiod is markedly original in style, ignoring the sanguinary struggles of the heroic age and preferring to sing of gentler themes. He is emphatically the poet of peace, treating of such homely subjects as the pursuits of the husbandman, the holiness of domestic life, the duty of economy, the education of youth, and the details of commerce and politics. Indeed, he tells us that he was first instigated to the pursuit of poetry by a vision, in which the Muses appeared to him and commanded him to write "the poetry of truth."

Although some of his countrymen scornfully termed him "the poet of slaves," in comparison with Homer, "the delight of warriors," yet to our less warlike dispositions. his writings indicate a distinct advance in civilization and morality over the trumpet-like strains of the Iliad.

In language and versification Hesiod and the poets of his school do not differ essentially from Homer, but are antagonistic in theme and treatment, the beauties of peace in their pages being contrasted with the clash of swords and shields in the strains of the warlike epics. So far as poetic merit is concerned, his works do not challenge any high estimation, though they possess the virtue of sim

plicity, so characteristic of early writers. They were held in great veneration by the Greeks, his theologic writings in particular being highly valued, and viewed as authorities in the Hellenic cosmogony.

The poet himself gives us many points in his personal history, detailing the emigration of his father from Kyme, in Asia Minor, where he had with difficulty made a living, to Ascra, in Boo'tia. This the poet describes as a cold, barren country, at the foot of Mount Helicon. We will give the account in his own words, as translated by Elton.

"O witless Perses, thus for honest gain,
Thus did our mutual father plow the main.
Erst from Æolian Cy'me's distant shore
Hither in sable ship his course he bore;

Through the wide seas his venturous way he took,
No revenues, nor prosperous ease forsook.
His wandering course from poverty began,
The visitation sent from Heaven to man.
In Ascra's wretched hamlet, at the feet
Of Helicon, he fixed his humble seat;
Ungenial clime, in wintry cold severe,

And summer heat, and joyless through the year."

Modern travelers have not found the region of Helicon so bleak, and it is possible that our author was affected by nursery tales of the delights of the ancestral home when drawing this picture of the drear Boeotian realm. He was himself born in Ascra, and seems at first to have been a poor peasant, or herdsman. He afterward went to Orchom'enos, on Lake Copa'is, where the remainder of his life was passed. It was an uneventful life, being principally occupied in poetic labors. He tells us of but one journey, in which he went to take part in a poetic contest. This, like Homer's description of the bard at the court of King Alcinous, is of interest as showing us to what extent. poetry was cultivated at that period.

The works ascribed to Hesiod are seven in number, of which the most important are the "Works and Days," the "Theogony," or "Generations of the Gods," and the "Catalogues of Women;" which last work, and also the "Shield of Hercules," are probably by later authors.

The Works and Days is essentially didactic in tone, being a sort of farmers' chronicle, in which he tells when to plant and how to reap, describes the form and the use of plows, explains grape gathering and wine making, gives a list of lucky and unlucky days, and enlivens the whole with stories, which are introduced somewhat at random into the text. We give an extract from the interesting episode of Pandora and her celebrated box.

"The Sire who rules the earth and sways the pole
Had said, and laughter filled his secret soul:
He bade the crippled god his hest obey,
And mould with tempering water plastic clay;
With human nerve and human voice invest
The limbs elastic and the breathing breast;
Fair as the blooming goddesses above,
A virgin's likeness, with the looks of love.
He bade Minerva teach the skill that sheds
A thousand colors in the gliding threads;
He called the magic of love's holy queen
To breathe around a witchery of mien,
And eager passion's never-sated flame,
And cares of dress, that prey upon the frame;
Adored Persuasion, and the Graces young,
Her tapered limbs with golden jewels hung;
Round her fair brow the lovely tresséd Hours

A golden garland twined of spring's purpureal flowers.
The woman's hands an ample casket bear;

Hope still remained within, nor took her flight,

Beneath the casket's verge concealed from sight."-Elton.

The Works and Days seems especially written for the edification of his brother Perses, to whom he constantly