_Homer._

Seneca reckons among the idle questions, which were unworthy of wise
men, the dispute whether Homer wrote both the Iliad and Odyssey, and
in what countries Ulysses wandered. Notwithstanding the "Stoic's
philosophic pride," these inquiries have still an interest to minds
of the highest order--such is the homage which genius extorts from the
remotest countries and from the latest ages. We noticed, in an article
in our last Number, the curious fact of native youths in India
performing parts of Shakspeare, and thus on the shores of the Ganges
countless minds are deriving delight, perhaps improvement, from the
careless and unlaboured verses of the light-hearted Warwickshire
deer-stealer. So, in this country, and over all the continent of
Europe, which, when the songs of Homer first gladdened the halls of
the chieftains on the shores of the Aegean, were vast unknown deserts,
unpeopled, or wandered over by a few rude hunters; which, to the Greeks,
were regions of more than Cimmerian darkness, beyond the boundaries of
the living world--men of the loftiest and most powerful understanding
are examining, and discussing, and disputing the most minute points
which may illustrate the poetry of the blind bard; scholars are
elucidating, antiquaries illustrating, philosophers reasoning upon,
men of genius transfusing into their native tongues, poets honouring
with despairing emulation, the whole mind of educated man _feeling_
the transcendent power of the poet of the Iliad and Odyssey. Surely,
the boasted triumph of poetry over space and time is no daring
hyperbole--surely, it is little more than the boasted reality of truth.