a framework within which higher prerogatives, other and nobler traditions, might be lodged.

In the Iliad, where Helios is little more than a zoophyte, the Poet can safely decorate Apollo with epithets and titles more directly belonging to a displaced proprietor who could not be a rival. In the Outer Zone of the Odyssey, wide separation of sphere and the absence of Apollo from direct share in the action, suffice to obviate competition or confusion. But in the Ithacan and closing portion the case is different, and the Poet's expedient for meeting it is a large use of reserve. The Providential action, apart from the personal and esoteric relation of Athenê to Odysseus, is evidently in the hands of a deity who must be either Apollo or the Sun, or both in one; yet Apollo is very rarely named, and the Sun never. Homer could not, according to my hypothesis, employ the word Phoibos, because it was the old local solar name; and he has only incidentally used the word Apollon, because it was not yet familiarly indicative to the Ithacan people of the same personality as Phoibos. He attained his poetical result there remains the mythological riddle, with such materials as he has allowed us for its solution. Let us now go to the particulars of the text.

Twelve books of the Odyssey wholly, and the greater part of three more, have their scene laid in Ithaca. The name of Apollo, used twenty-nine times in the Odyssey, appears but eleven times in the large Ithacan portion of the Poem. Of the eleven passages two only have reference to acts of religion in Ithaca, although the great crisis of the Poem was connected with the day of a great religious festival (heorté), the only religious festival mentioned in Homer. It was a very great festival, for it is called holy (xxi. 259), and on it apparently no work could be done; for, says one Suitor to another, 'how could you expect to bend the bow on such a day as this' (259)? It was to be observed by all the people (xx. 156; xxi. 258); and, says Eurukleia, the head of the household, the Suitors, to-day, are certain to assemble very early (ibid.).

Now it appears to be placed by particular circumstances beyond all doubt, that this festival was a festival of the Sun. For the Poet tells us, first (xiv. 162), on the prediction of the Return among the Suitors delivered to Eumaios, that it shall take place on the day when one month ends and the next begins. Secondly, on the repetition of the prediction, he repeats the promise, accompanied with a solemn oath to Penelope (xix. 207). It is to be a month in the solar year then current: Toûd' auroû Xukáẞavтos, this same sun-passage. The word lukabas is found nowhere else in the Poems. They use the word heniautos for the circling year; and, with its derivatives, it occurs no less than twenty-nine times. The introduction on this occasion only of a solar name appears to point clearly to the Sun as associated with the festival.

We have in this passage several links with the historic time. The year in Greece was solar, and was not uniform in the different states. But it was subdivided by lunar months, with expedients for supplying a remedy to inequalities. It always commenced with one of the months; and the terms phthinôn and histamenos were applied in Athens to the first and third decades. Moreover, as the monthly course of the moon did not correspond with the earth's diurnal motion, there was a broken day termed the henê kai nea, which exactly corresponds with the declaration here that fixes the event on a day made up from one month passing out and another coming in; at the end of one month and the beginning of the next. The calendars of history continued still to be marked at their intervals by sacrificial observances.8

It will presently be made plain that this festival was also the festival of Apollo. Yet the Poet, twice mentioning the heortê, neither time calls it the heortê either of the Sun or of Apollo. He adopts a method of reticence singular with him. The day is (xxi. 258) simply oρT TOîo Ozolo, 'the festival of that god,' or 'the god.' We cannot have a clearer proof of the reserve maintained by the Poet in using the name of Apollo in connection with the Ithacan religion.

And yet it is quite plain that this is not because he had little to do with that religion. On the contrary, he appears more nearly to have had everything to do with it. I do not dwell on the references in xxi. 267, 338, 364, and xxii. 7, because they are related to Apollo's office as lord of the bow, which is general, beyond saying that the frequency of repetition may deserve some notice. But the action of the Poem is placed in undeniable and close relation with him (1) by the otherwise unexplained intervention of Theoclumenos the augur (xv. 223, 256), and the exercise of his office in interpretation and prediction (xxv. 525; xx. 360, 376-80). (2) By the choice of the Bow as the operative cause of the catastrophe; for be it remembered that Odysseus had not been in war a bowman, and that the use of the bow is appropriated only to secondary heroes, Teucros of the Achaians, Paris and Pandaros on the Trojan side. (3) To Apollo is assigned a function appertaining to the Providence or ordinary divine government of Ithaca: it is by his will that Telemachos is now of an age to control misconduct (xix. 86). But (4) it is in connection with this festival that we have the most conclusive evidence. In Od. xx. 277, the heralds solemnly bring in, for the celebration of the feast, what is called the sacred hecatomb of the gods; and the people were gathered to meet them in the thick grove of Apollo.' The 'hecatomb of the gods' was therefore a sacrifice to him. This appears to give him the place of chief god in Ithaca. It is just as

"See Smith's Dict., 'Calendar;' and more largely Sir George Lewis on The Astronomy of the Ancients, p. 22 seqq.

Zeus in Il. i. 423 went to his banquet among the Aithiopes, and the other gods attended him:

θεοὶ δ ̓ ἅμα πάντες ἕποντο·

There was a common interest for all, and a special honour to the head.

What between artful expression and artful silence, the text, then, at certain points betrays indications of the Sun-god as supreme in Ithaca, and at certain other points the same inference has to be drawn for Apollo. The probable mode of reconciliation is that a modifying and uplifting process was going on; the Sun-idea was dying; the Olympian idea, far loftier yet claiming kindred with it, took the inheritance by a change without shock or danger. The Sun-god, in some of the Outer theologies associated with the Phoenician name and intercourse, was undoubtedly the head of more or fewer systems of local worship. As elsewhere of a Zeus-Poseidon, so here we seem to have indications of a Zeus-Apollo; and we may rationally propose an hypothesis to the effect that Sun-worship for some special reason had ruled in Ithaca; that Ithaca had become subject, like the rest of the Achaian lands, to the action of that theanthropic idea, which took up the old materials lying ready to hand, and accommodated them according to the laws and needs of its own composite and eclectic system; that the whole offices and, so to speak, estate, of the Sungod became part of the equipment of the grand Homeric Apollo; that time had to be allowed for the reduction of the old elements to a secondary position; that it was not well to force into too prominent a place the name which we have found to be so closely annexed to the new and enlarged conception. And if all this be so, we see at once how well it suits and promotes the general purpose of the Poet to call the festival, in the speeches which he puts into the mouths of his Ithacan personages, not the festival of Apollo, but the festival 'of that god' or of the god; the god κar' ¿§oxýv, who under that general name would be perfectly recognised at the time, and in the place.

To complete this view, I must subjoin that the important lines giving us the grove of far-darting Apollo as the place where the hecatombs of the gods were to fall by the sacrificial knife, is not in any Ithacan speech, but in the narrative text of the Poem, meant of course for recitation throughout Greece.

In this investigation I have not yet referred to the passage (xii. 343) where Eurulochos, advising his shipmates to consume the best among the sacred kine of the Sun, proposes that by way of compensation they shall build a temple for him in Ithaca, and supply it liberally with ornament (agalmata, ver. 347) and endowment. I have not dwelt upon this passage, because it seems to me to be capable, if it stood alone, of being applied either way. It might

mean that he was already well known, or that his worship was absolutely unknown in Ithaca, and that they would introduce it; or that his personality, once familiar, had been absorbed and forgotten, and that they would revive it. But the emphasis seems to be placed on the ornamentation and endowment; and the duplication of temples was common; whereas it might seem strange for private persons to promise so glibly the introduction of a new cult into the island. The hypothesis I have suggested is quite independent of this passage; but may on the whole derive a degree of confirmation from it.

The phenomenon of a worship in Ithaca distinct from that of the Achaian land generally stands at the point to which this paper carries it, as an isolated phenomenon. But I hope to supply it with support, and support on a wide basis. I propose elsewhere to set forth fully a number of indications, which go to prove a marked connection between Ithaca, with its lord, and the important element which, for want of a better name, I call exoteric or Phoenician, and which very deeply colours the Homeric Poems and the Achaian age.

W. E. GLADSTONE.

SCIENCE FALSELY SO CALLED.

A REPLY.

My sincere respect for Professor Huxley forbids me from following him into the field of personal polemics, even if this Review were a fitting place for such exercitations. There are, however, some points of general interest in his last article on which I wish to say a few words.

The first of these concerns the use which Professor Huxley makes of the word science.' In common parlance this word is now very much confined to the physical sciences, some of which may be called specially experimental sciences, such as chemistry, and others exact sciences, such as astronomy. But Professor Huxley evidently uses it in that wider sense in which it includes metaphysics and philosophy. Under cover of this wide sweep of his net, he assumes to speak with the special authority of a scientific expert upon questions respecting which no such authority exists either in him or in anyone else. It seems to be on the strength of this assumption that he designates as pseudo-science any opinion, or teaching, or belief, different from his

own.

I will illustrate what I mean by an example. One of the most elaborate of Professor Huxley's own works is his volume on The Elements of Comparative Anatomy, published some twenty-three years ago. Comparative anatomy is one of the branches of the larger science of Biology in which Professor Huxley is an expert ; and, like all the other branches which grow out of the one great stem of Life,' as a subject of physical investigation, it runs up into ideas and conceptions which belong to, or border on, the region of metaphysics. In that volume Professor Huxley deals with the well-known question of comparative anatomy whether the vertebrate skull can, or cannot, be interpreted' as a developed vertebra. Through an elaborate argument, strictly conducted on the observation and analysis of physical facts, Professor Huxley comes to the conclusion that this interpretation' breaks down. The vertebral hypothesis of the skull,' he says, 'seems to me to be altogether abolished.' Yet, whilst rejecting this particular interpretation,' he accepts and enforces the general conception that there is a complete unity of organisation