of the text, which
appears even to present _lacunae_. The English reader will naturally
prefer the lively and charming version of Shelley to any other. The poet
can tell and adorn the story without visibly floundering in the pitfalls
of a dislocated text. If we may judge by line 51, and if Greek musical
tradition be correct, the date of the Hymn cannot be earlier than the
fortieth Olympiad. About that period Terpander is said to have given the
lyre seven strings (as Mercury does in the poem), in place of the
previous four strings. The date of Terpander is dubious, but probably
the seven-stringed lyre had long been in common use before the poet
attributed the invention to Hermes. The same argument applies to the
antiquity of writing, assigned by poets as the invention of various
mythical and prehistoric heroes. But the poets were not careful
archaeologists, and regarded anachronisms as genially as did Shakespeare
or Scott. Moreover, the fact that Terpander did invent the seven chords
is not beyond dispute historically, while, mythically, Apollo and Amphion
are credited with the idea. That Hermes invented fire-sticks seems a
fable which robs Prometheus of the honour. We must not look for any kind
of consistency in myth.

The learned differ as to the precise purpose of the Hymn, and some even
exclude the invention of the _cithara_. To myself it seems that the poet
chiefly revels in a very familiar subject of savage humour (notably among
the Zulus), the extraordinary feats and tricks of a tiny and apparently
feeble and helpless person or animal, such as Brer Rabbit. The triumph
of astuteness over strength (a triumph here assigned to the infancy of a
God) is the theme. Hermes is here a rustic _doublure_ of Apollo, as he
was, in fact, mainly a rural deity, though he became the Messenger of the
Gods, and the Guide of Souls outworn. In these respects he answers to
the Australian Grogoragally, in his double relation to the Father, Boyma,
and to men living and dead. {37a}

As a go-between of Gods and men, Hermes may be a _doublure_ of Apollo,
but, as the Hymn shows, he aspired in vain to Apollo's oracular function.
In one respect his behaviour has a singular savage parallel. His shoes
woven of twigs, so as not to show the direction in which he is
proceeding, answer to the equally shapeless feather sandals of the blacks
who "go _Kurdaitcha_," that is, as avengers of blood. I have nowhere
else found this practice