esting and ingenious, that without presuming here to discuss its truth, it claims a brief mention. It may be fairest to put it in the words of one of its most enthusiastic advocates. So far as it applies to the Odyssey, it stands thus:—
"The Sun [Ulysses] leaves his bride the Twilight [Penelope] in the sky, where he sinks beneath the sea, to journey in silence and darkness to the scene of the great fight with the powers of Darkness [the Siege of Troy]. The ten weary years of the war are the weary hours of the night. . . . The victory is won: but the Sun still longs to see again the beautiful bride from whom he parted yester-eve. Dangers may await him, but they cannot arrest his steps: things lovely may lavish their beauty upon him, but they cannot make him forget her. . . . But he cannot reach his home until another series of ten long years have come to an end—the Sun cannot see the Twilight until another day is done."[1]
So, in the Iliad, as has been already noticed, Paris and the Trojans represent the powers of Darkness, "who steal away the beautiful Twilight [Helen] from the western sky;" while Achilles is the Sun, who puts to rout these forces of the Night.[2]
In contrast, though not necessarily in contradiction, to this physical allegory, stands the moral interpretation, a favourite one with some of the mediæval stu-
