The text of Homer must have attracted some attention when Antimachus came to be known as the “corrector” (διοθωτής) of a distinct edition (ἔκδοσις), Aristotle is said himself to have made a recension for the use of Alexander the Great. This is unlikely. His remarks on Homer (in the Poetics and elsewhere) show that he had made a careful study of the structure and leading ideas of the poems, but do not throw much light on the text.
The real work of criticism became possible only when great collections of manuscripts began to be made by the princes of the generation after Alexander, and when men of learning were employed to sift and arrange these treasures. In this way the great Alexandrian school of Homeric criticism began with Zenodotus, the first chief of the museum, and was continued by Aristophanes and Aristarchus. In Aristarchus ancient philology culminated, as philosophy had done in Socrates. All earlier learning either passed into his writings, or was lost; all subsequent research turned upon his critical and grammatical work.
The means of forming a judgment of the Alexandrine criticism are scanty. The literary form which preserved the works of the great historians was unfortunately wanting, or was not sufficiently valued, in the case of the grammarians. Abridgments and newer treatises soon drove out the writings of Aristarchus and other founders of the science. Moreover, a recension could not be reproduced without new errors soon creeping in. Thus we find that Didymus, writing in the time of Cicero, does not quote the readings of Aristarchus as we should quote a textus receptus. Indeed, the object of his work seems to have been to determine what those readings were. Enough, however, remains to show that Aristarchus had a clear notion of the chief problems of philology (except perhaps those concerning etymology). He saw, for example, that it was not enough to find a meaning for the archaic words (the γλῶσσαι, as they were called), but that common words (such as πόνος, φόβος) had their Homeric uses, which were to be gathered by due induction. In the same spirit he looked upon the ideas and beliefs of Homer as a consistent whole, which might be determined from the evidence of the poems. He noticed especially the difference between the stories known to Homer and those given by later poets, and made many comparisons between Homeric and later manners, arts and institutions. Again, he was sensible of the paramount value of manuscript authority, and appears to have introduced no readings from mere conjecture. The frequent mention in the Scholia of “better” and “inferior” texts may indicate a classification made by him or by the general opinion of critics. His use of the “obelus” to distinguish spurious verses, which made so large a part of his fame in antiquity, has rather told against him with modern scholars.[9] It is chiefly interesting as a proof of the confusion in which the text must have been before the Alexandrian times; for it is impossible to understand the readiness of Aristarchus to suspect the genuineness of verses unless the state of the copies had pointed to the existence of numerous interpolations. On this matter, however, we are left to conjecture.
Our knowledge of Alexandrian criticism is derived almost wholly from a single document, the famous Iliad of the library of St Mark in Venice (Codex Venetus 454, or Ven. A), first published by the French scholar Villoison in 1788 (Scholia antiquissima ad Homeri Iliadem). This manuscript, written in the 10th century, contains (1) the best text of the Iliad, (2) the critical marks of Aristarchus and (3) Scholia, consisting mainly of extracts from four grammatical works, viz. Didymus (contemporary of Cicero) on the recension of Aristarchus, Aristonicus (fl. 24 B.C.) on the critical marks of Aristarchus, Herodian (fl. A.D. 160) on the accentuation, and Nicanor (fl. A.D. 127) on the punctuation, of the Iliad.
These extracts present themselves in two distinct forms. One series of scholia is written in the usual way, on a margin reserved for the purpose. The other consists of brief scholia, written in very small characters (but of the same period) on the narrow space left vacant round the text. Occasionally a scholium of this kind gives the substance of one of the longer extracts; but as a rule they are distinct. It would seem, therefore, that after the manuscript was finished the “marginal scholia” were discovered to be extremely defective, and a new series of extracts was added in a form which interfered as little as possible with the appearance of the book.[10]
The mention of the Venetian Scholia leads us at once to the Homeric controversy; for the immortal Prolegomena of F. A. Wolf[11] appeared a few years after Villoison’s publication, and was founded in great measure upon the fresh and abundant materials which it furnished. Not that the “Wolfian theory” of the Homeric poems is directly supported by anything in the Scholia; the immediate object of the Prolegomena was not to put forward that theory, but to elucidate the new and remarkable conditions under which the text of Homer had to be settled, viz. the discovery of an apparatus criticus of the 2nd century B.C. The questions regarding the original structure and early history of the poems were raised (forced upon him, it may be said) by the critical problem; but they were really originated by facts and ideas of a wholly different order.
The 18th century, in which the spirit of classical correctness had the most absolute dominion, did not come to an end before a powerful reaction set in, which affected not only literature but also speculation and politics. In this movement the leading ideas were concentrated in the word Nature. The natural condition of society, natural law, natural religion, the poetry of nature, gained a singular hold, first on the English philosophers from Hume onwards, and then (through Rousseau chiefly) on the general drift of thought and action in Europe. In literature the effect of these ideas was to set up a false opposition between nature and art. As political writers imagined a patriarchal innocence prior to codes of law, so men of letters sought in popular unwritten poetry the freshness and simplicity which were wanting in the prevailing styles. The blind minstrel was the counterpart of the noble savage. The supposed discovery of the poems of Ossian fell in with this train of sentiment, and created an enthusiasm for the study of early popular poetry. Homer was soon drawn into the circle of inquiry. Blackwell (Professor of Greek at Aberdeen) had insisted, in a book published in 1735, on the “naturalness” of Homer; and Wood (Essay on the Original Genius of Homer, London, 1769) was the first who maintained that Homer composed without the help of writing, and supported his thesis by ancient authority, and also by the parallel of Ossian. Both these books were translated into German, and their ideas passed into the popular philosophy of the day. Everything in short was ripe for the reception of a book that brought together, with masterly ease and vigour, the old and the new Homeric learning, and drew from it the historical proof that Homer was no single poet, writing according to art and rule, but a name which stood for a golden age of the true spontaneous poetry of genius and nature.
The part of the Prolegomena which deals with the original form of the Homeric poems occupies pp. xl.-clx. (in the first edition). Wolf shows how the question of the date of writing meets us on the threshold of the textual criticism of Homer and accordingly enters into a full discussion, first of the external evidence, then of the indications furnished by the poems. Having satisfied himself that writing was unknown to Homer, he is led to consider the real mode of transmission, and finds this in the Rhapsodists, of whom the Homeridae were an hereditary school. And then comes the conclusion to which all this has been tending: “the die is cast”—the Iliad and Odyssey cannot have been composed in the form in which we know them without the aid of writing. They must therefore have been, as Bentley had said, “a sequel of songs and rhapsodies,” “loose songs not collected together in the form of an epic poem till about 500 years after.” This conclusion he then supports by the character attributed to the “Cyclic” poems (whose want of unity showed that the structure of the Iliad and Odyssey must be the work of a later time), by one or two indications of imperfect connexion, and by the doubts of ancient critics as to the genuineness of certain parts. These, however, are matters of conjecture. “Historia loquitur.” The voice of antiquity is unanimous in declaring that “Peisistratus first committed the poems of Homer to writing, and reduced them to the order in which we now read them.”
The appeal of Wolf to the “voice of all antiquity” is by no means borne out by the different statements on the subject. According to Heraclides Ponticus (pupil of Plato), the poetry of Homer was first brought to the Peloponnesus by Lycurgus, who obtained it from the descendants of Creophylus (Polit. fr. 2). Plutarch in his Life of Lycurgus (c. 4) repeats this story, with the addition that there was already a faint report of the poems in Greece, and that certain detached fragments were in the possession of a few persons. Again, the Platonic dialogue Hipparchus (which though not genuine is probably earlier than the Alexandrian times) asserts that Hipparchus, son of Peisistratus, first brought the poems to Athens, and obliged the rhapsodists at the Panathenaea to follow the order of the text, “as they still do,” instead of reciting portions chosen at will. The earliest authority for attributing any work of the kind to Peisistratus is the well-known passage of Cicero (De Orat. 3. 34: “Quis doctior eisdem temporibus illis, aut cujus eloquentia litteris instructior fuisse traditur quam Pisistrati? qui primus Homeri libros, confusos antea, sic disposuisse dicitur ut nunc habemus”). To the same effect Pausanias (vii. p. 594) says that the change of the name Donoessa to Gonoessa (in Il. ii. 573) was thought to have been made by “Peisistratus or one of his companions,” when he collected the poems, which were then in a fragmentary condition. Finally, Diogenes Laertius (i. 57) says that Solon made a law that the poems should be recited with the help of a prompter so that each rhapsodist should begin where the last left off; and he argues from this that Solon did more than Peisistratus to make Homer known. The argument is directed against a certain Dieuchidas of Megara, who appears to have maintained that the verses about Athens in the Catalogue (Il. ii. 546-556) were interpolated by Peisistratus. The passage is unfortunately corrupt, but it is at least clear that in the time of Solon, according to Diogenes, there were complete copies of the poems, such as could be used to control the recitations. Hence the account of Diogenes is quite irreconcilable with the notices on which Wolf relied.
It is needless to examine the attempts which have been made to harmonize these accounts. Such attempts usually start with the tacit assumption that each of the persons concerned—Lycurgus, Solon, Peisistratus, Hipparchus—must have done something for the text of Homer, or for the regulation of the rhapsodists. But we have first to consider whether any of the accounts come to us on such evidence that we are bound to consider them as containing a nucleus of truth.