Now let us take the Anglo-Saxon heroic poems. It is obvious enough that here there is at all events a superficial resemblance between the two cases, although the Greek poems are on a much larger scale. Both sets of poems are the work of colonists who had crossed the sea, and both equally suppress all reference to the existence of such settlements. It is true that the scene of the Iliad is laid in a district not far from that in which it appears to have been composed. But this district is represented as being in possession of an alien people. The compatriots of the poets—who clearly speak from the Achaean side—are uniformly represented as dwelling on the west of the Aegean. But these after all are merely accidental coincidences. Far more important for us is the fact, which we have already noted, that both sets of poems carry the history of heroic poetry back to court minstrels who are represented as living in the Heroic Age itself. The question which we have to face is whether or not the Iliad and Odyssey likewise resemble the Anglo-Saxon poems in being themselves products of court-minstrelsy in direct continuation of that which they depict as existing in the Heroic Age.
If this question is incapable of being answered we must, I think, conclude that the historical study of early Greek poetry is futile. No impartial observer can fail to have been struck by the immense strides made within the last generation by Greek archaeology, as compared with the very small amount of progress made from the literary side—at least if progress is to be judged by the attainment of any general consensus of opinion. Experienced archaeologists can now very soon determine whether the remains which they find are those of a village or a palace, and whether they belong to (let us say) the classical or the geometrical or the Mycenean period. Again, in the case of sites long occupied they can easily detect the existence of different strata—especially if a palace has been built on the site of an earlier village, or if a village settlement has intervened between two 'palace-periods.' Is it really impossible to distinguish such strata in the history of poetry, or is the absence of progress which we have noted to be attributed to other causes—perhaps that the criticism has been of too subjective a character?
Now it is almost universally agreed that the Homeric poems are considerably older than any other form of Greek literature which has come down to us. Some scholars indeed hold that the latest portions of the Odyssey belong to the seventh century; but we have seen that the evidence for this view is by no means satisfactory. Certainly by the middle of the seventh century, and probably somewhat earlier, we meet with totally different types of poetry. In the first place we find a number of new metrical forms, elegiac, iambic and trochaic, not to speak of the numerous varieties of lyric metre. In matter and in spirit too the difference is just as marked as it is in form. The new poets are primarily concerned with the affairs of their own day. Callinos and Tyrtaios are inspired by national patriotism. Their fragments may be compared with the poem on the battle of Brunanburh, though even this is nearer to the heroic spirit. Archilochos again is almost entirely taken up with his own experiences and passions. A good analogy for his case is to be found in the Icelandic adventurer Egill Skallagrímsson. In all respects then the poetry of this age is as far removed as possible from the heroic type of poetry.
Yet traces of an intermediate or transitional stage are not altogether wanting. From the fragments of the Hesiodic Catalogue and other works which are attributed to the close of the eighth and the early part of the seventh centuries it is clear that—apart from hymns—the old hexameter metre was retained for a time in a class of poetry which appears to have been largely genealogical in character. In matter also, as well as in form, this class had certain elements in common with Homeric poetry, since both were concerned with the far past. But in spirit its affinities were rather with the poetry of the following age; for its object seems clearly to have been the glorification of the state.
These observations lead us to conclude that a sequence can be traced in the history of poetry, as in that of art. It is at least a natural hypothesis that the great development of original poetry in the age of Callinos and Archilochos was connected in some way with those political and social movements which so greatly affected the Greek world during the eighth and seventh centuries—changing almost every kingdom into a republic. Moreover the existence of the transitional (genealogical) type of poetry which we have noted is altogether favourable to this idea; for the form of government which took the place of kingship was at first that of a strictly limited aristocracy. But have we any ground for believing that heroic poetry was the poetry of the age of kingship? How far is such an equation in accord with the chronological data at our disposal? In Greece itself kingship generally seems to have come to an end about the middle of the eighth century. In Aeolis however, with which we are primarily concerned, the change was in all probability somewhat later; for the Phrygian king Midas (Mita of Muski), who perished in the Cimmerian invasion about the beginning of the seventh century, is said to have married a daughter of Agamemnon, king of Cyme. But few will deny that the great bulk of Homeric poetry was in existence by this time. The equation therefore seems to be fully justified. Survivals and imitations may occur in later times, as in the case of art; but, broadly speaking, it appears that heroic poetry is properly the poetry of the age of kingship.
We must not assume forthwith however that it was the only type of poetry which existed during this age. Certain passages in Hesiod's poems (Theog. 80 ff., W. and D. 38 f.) render it clear that kingship in some form or other still existed when they were composed; yet they differ very greatly from the Homeric type. Our next object therefore must be to try to ascertain the true provenance of Homeric poetry. Was it court poetry or popular poetry, or are we to trace its origin to conditions which cannot well be brought under either of these categories?
It cannot seriously be contended, I think, that the Homeric poems are of popular origin. In the first place their length is scarcely compatible with such a hypothesis[358]. Their metrical form also is clearly the product of a long artistic development; it is inconceivable that popular poetry could be capable of creating anything so elaborate. Again they are by no means in the nature of biographical sketches (cf. p. [95]); in spite of their great length the action in both cases extends over quite a brief period of time. Further, there is little or no definite evidence—certainly none which can be called conclusive—for that confusion of different stories which characterises popular poetry. The heroes who figure in the Homeric poems are scarcely the most famous representatives of their states. Most of them are little known elsewhere. Popular poetry could hardly have failed to introduce into the action such persons as Heracles, Theseus, Peirithoos, Minos, Iason or Adrastos. Then again we may note the presence of nearly all those features which distinguish the heroic poetry of the Teutonic peoples (cf. p. [82] f.). The characters brought before us in the Iliad are almost invariably either princes or persons attached to the retinues of princes, and themselves apparently of what we may call knightly rank. The chief exception (Thersites) is described in a way which only proves the rule. It is true that this principle is not so strictly observed in the latter part of the Odyssey Several persons of humble rank are introduced here, though it is to be noted that the most prominent of them (Eumaios, the swineherd) is said to be of princely birth. In other respects however the Odyssey conforms to the rules of Teutonic court poetry just as much as the Iliad. Thus it is fond of describing in detail the movements of kings and queens in their palaces and the conventions observed in the reception of strangers. Again, persons of princely rank are seldom spoken of with disrespect in either poem. Dialogues must of course be excepted, and also references (especially in the Nekyia) to persons of the far past—precisely as in Teutonic poetry. But in general there is a noteworthy absence of any display of feeling against the opponents of the poet's heroes—as much in the case of Penelope's suitors as in that of the Trojans. Perhaps the most striking instance is the semi-apologetic account of Clytaimnestra's conduct given by Nestor (Od. III 263-272), a passage which may be compared with the story of Offa's wife in Beowulf. We may note also the surprisingly lenient treatment of Paris in the Iliad. Indeed the characters represented in the most unfavourable light are gods—a phenomenon for which we have analogies in Old Norse poetry. Lastly, we must observe the strict avoidance of coarseness and of things not mentioned in polite society.
Before we proceed further it will be convenient to turn for a moment to Hesiod's poems. For these also early Teutonic literature presents a number of fairly close parallels. In particular the proverbial part of the Works and Days has many analogies in gnomic poetry, both English and Scandinavian. As an example we may cite the first and last portions of Hávamál. Again the precepts on husbandry and the calendar resemble several Anglo-Saxon works both in prose and verse. For the Theogony the closest Teutonic parallel—and it is very close—is the prose Gylfaginning; but earlier poetical works, such as Völuspá and Hyndlulióð, run on somewhat similar lines. There is evidence too that subjects of the same kind were once popular in England[359]. Lastly, the verses (22 ff.) which relate how the poet received his inspiration may be compared with the story of Caedmon.
Now if we compare the characteristics of Hesiodic and Homeric poetry we cannot fail to notice that they present a very striking contrast in several respects, even apart from the absence of a common theme. In the first place Hesiod takes no pains to conceal his personality. Again, his poems contain little in the way of detailed description, except where the occupations of a farmer's life are discussed. Thirdly, they show no tendency to avoid indelicate subjects. Lastly, they betray no acquaintance with court life. Kings are occasionally mentioned, though not by name, but all the references are to their public appearances, as judges or mediators. We may notice too that though in the Theogony (v. 80 ff.) they are spoken of with respect, in the Works and Days (v. 38 f.) the title is coupled with an opprobrious epithet (δωροφάγους). No one can fail to observe that in nearly all these respects[360] Hesiod shows the characteristics which commonly distinguish popular poetry.
But we have to remember that in spite of all these differences Hesiod uses the same metrical form and to a large extent the same style of language as the Homeric poems. There can be little doubt that priority lies with the latter; indeed Hesiod frequently betrays acquaintance with Homeric poetry. But it must not be assumed that his themes were new; they are far more primitive than anything of the heroic type. If Hesiod was the founder of a new era in poetry we must conclude that his innovation consisted in the application of the forms of heroic poetry to purposes for which they had not previously been used. The heroic hexameter is the only form of metre which can be traced back beyond the seventh century, and we can hardly doubt that it is the oldest form of cultivated Greek poetry. But less elaborate forms of verse—perhaps rude precursors of the iambic and lyric metres—must also have been in popular use for ages in ballads, songs and hymns. We may infer then that what Hesiod did was to turn to popular use the form of poetry which represented the highest standard of art in his day.