he gods, according to
him, not only live for ever, but live for ever in misery.

8
Far to be preferred to this description of the Battle of the Gods are
those passages which exhibit the divine nature in its true light, as
something spotless, great, and pure, as, for instance, a passage which
has often been handled by my predecessors, the lines on Poseidon:--

"Mountain and wood and solitary peak,
The ships Achaian, and the towers of Troy,
Trembled beneath the god's immortal feet.
Over the waves he rode, and round him played,
Lured from the deeps, the ocean's monstrous brood,
With uncouth gambols welcoming their lord:
The charmed billows parted: on they flew."[5]

[Footnote 5: _Il._ xiii. 18; xx. 60; xiii. 19, 27.]

9
And thus also the lawgiver of the Jews, no ordinary man, having formed
an adequate conception of the Supreme Being, gave it adequate expression
in the opening words of his "Laws": "God said"--what?--"let there be
light, and there was light: let there be land, and there was."

10
I trust you will not think me tedious if I quote yet one more passage
from our great poet (referring this time to human characters) in
illustration of the manner in which he leads us with him to heroic
heights. A sudden and baffling darkness as of night has overspread the
ranks of his warring Greeks. Then Ajax in sore perplexity cries aloud--

"Almighty Sire,
Only from darkness save Achaia's sons;
No more I ask, but give us back the day;
Grant but our sight, and slay us, if thou wilt."[6]

The feelings are just what we should look for in Ajax. He does not, you
observe, ask for his life--such a request would have been unworthy of
his heroic soul--but finding himself paralysed by darkness, and
prohibited from employing his valour in any noble action, he chafes
because his arms are idle, and prays for a speedy return of light. "At
least," he thinks, "I shall find a warrior's grave, even though Zeus
himself should fight against me."

[Footnote 6: _Il._ xvii. 645.]

11
In such passages the mind of the poet is swept along in the whirlwind of
the struggle, and, in his own words, he

"Like the fierce war-god, raves, or wasting fire
Through the deep thickets on a mountain-side;
His lips drop foam."[7]

[Footnote 7: _Il._ xv. 605.]

12
But there is another and a very interesting aspect of Homer's mind. When
we turn to the _Odyssey_ we find occasion to observe that