BOOKS.
MYTHS OF HELLAS.* WE expect that thousands of young readers will welcome this
new presentment of the beautiful legends of Greece. Told simply, without any arriere pewee of a purpose, ethical or scientific (for surely the solar myth is as vexatious as what Mr. Arthur Sidgwick in his excellent inttoduction calls the "medi- cinal flavour of a moral "), they are sure to please this genera- tion, as they have pleased many generations before. The Lempriere which some of us knew in our youth was not scientific, and, we fear, not edifying, but it was certainly enter- taining. Here we have again the entertainment, freed from the objectionable element.
• His subject-matter Professor Witt has collected from a variety of sources, making his choice with a judgment and taste with which very little fault can be found. We could wish, perhaps, that he had not included among his stories the horrible legend of CEdipus. This legend belongs to another region of Greek thought than that in which the myths properly so called grew up. The sense of an overpowering doom, not called forth, indeed, by human pride, but tragically contrasting with it, was essentially a religious feeling, the result of a profounder obser- vation of the problems of life ; and, we may conjecture, late in growth. However this may be, its gloom fits it for the drama rather than for the lighter narrative of romantic adventure. We may remark that, as the story is told here, it wai3ts what may be called the motive of its denouement, the plague that overtook the laud of the Thebans, and set their king on inquir- ing what might be the hidden evil that was sapping the founda- tion of his prosperity.
The author's treatment of his subject is judicious and effective. He has found it sufficient, for the most part, to let the stories, so to speak, tell themselves, and to limit his own share to choosing the details and incidents that were most suitable for his purpose. Sometimes he adds a picturesque touch. Here is the picture of Theseus and his fellow-prisoners in the Labyrinth of Crete :—
" About mid-day they heard the monster bellowing in the distance. He was still some way from them, but he scented human blood, and as he came nearer, his bellowing grew louder and louder. The others crowded together in a corner, each wanting to be the last to meet him; but Theseus stood forward in the middle of the room, with his naked sword raised, waiting for his approach."
It is natural to wish that a hero so thoroughly sans pear should be also sans reproehe. Accordingly, we find that Theseus leaves the beautiful and loving Ariadne in Naxos, not from fickle- ness of mind, but because Dionysus had warned him in a dream that he desired to have the maiden for his own wife. The tragic story of Medea, too, is softened in some of its details.
Glance, her rival in Jason's love, perishes, indeed, (did the poisoned robe, by the way," burst out into flames," or—surely, a more terrible idea—cling to the flesh, and devour it with a secret heat P) but her old father is not involved in her doom, as he is in the famous play ; while the great enchantress relents at the last, and carries off her Children, instead of slaying them.
• • Myths of Hellas, or Greek NU,. Told in German by Protes•or C. Witt.
Translated into English, by Prances Yontighnsband. German, Longmans. 1883.
Now and then, we feel inclined to wish that a story had been given in more detail. There is nothing that boys at least—of girls, we do not venture to speak—more enjoy reading about than a good stand-up fight. An opportunity of delighting them is missed when the writer comes to the boxing match between Pollux and Bebrycus. Both Theocritus and Apollonins Rhodius tell it at length, and make of it a very picturesque scene.
Of the style in which these stories are told, there is little to be said. We are not acquainted with Professor Witt's original, but Miss Younghusband's English deserves the praise of being simple, straightforward, and easily intelligible. It is wanting, perhaps, here and there in dignity (such a phrase, for instance, as "the King was horrified," jars a little upon the ear) ; but it is possible that the dignity could not easily have been added without some sacrifice of plainness of meaning. It is an open question whether this tinge of archaism which it seems natural to give to writing of the kind is not suited for older readers, rather than for those whose needs should be first consulted, the young. Here is a specimen, from "The Quest of the Argonauts :I'
"After rowing for a long time, the heroes came to the land of Crete. They would have liked to go on shore, but there was an iron watchman, who refused to allow any one to land without the King's express permission. His name was Tabs, and he had been made out. of iron by the blacksmith-god Hephaestus, who gave him to Minos, the King of Crete. Minos used him as a watchman, and made him run round the whole island three times every day, and drive away any stranger who might approach it. He was all iron, excepting a single vein that ran from his head right down to his feet, and was fastened underneath with iron nails, which held in the life-blood that ran through the vein and kept him alive. When Tabs saw the ship full of heroes coming, he stood still and threw great atones at her. It would have been of no use for the Argonauts to shoot spears and arrows at him in return, for he could not be wounded ; so Medea called out to him over the water,'Tales, if you will be kind to us ands let us land, I will show you how you may become immortal.' Tabs was pleased at this, and he began to make friendly grimaces, and shouted back his answer in a voice that came oat of his iron body like the sound of a great trumpet. He said, First, tell me how I may become immortal, and then I will let you land.' But Medea answered him deceitfully, and she called back, Draw out the nail that is in your foot, and all that is mortal in you will flow out.' Tabs believed her, and he sat down on the shore and drew out the nail with some difficulty, for it had been well hammered in. Then the red blood flowed out, and Tales was glad, for he thought it was his mortality which was leaving him ; but he became weaker and weaker, and when the last drop of blood had flowed out of his body, he was dead,, and there was nothing left but a cold lamp of iron."
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