Incidentally, as the end draws on and his inglorious pile of sham errors and faked-up accusations mounts, his courage grows with it and he begins to scold. He heartens himself with his scolding, and scolds more boldly until he gets to “ignorance,” “vague and unscientific,” “by nature unfitted for an appreciation of Greece,” “no enquiry,” “no judgment,” “careless of the truth,” “blind to important things and ready with the irrelevant,” and so on and so on, and what, coming from him, is really a great lark, he launches out at last into a disquisition on style. I use a broken form of sentence with four full stops when it is unnecessary to round off a statement, and this it seems is “not in Aristotle.” It is, however, in English, and I have helped to put it there. But we will leave that question of style to the end. Upon the matter of Homer Mr. Gomme is very strong. His remarks aim not only at myself, but over and beyond me at my friend Professor Gilbert Murray. There seems to be some hostility, of which I know nothing, between Greek teachers and Greek scholars. I should imagine that in the happy little circle at Glasgow which is being led up to the True, the Beautiful and the Good, through the Greek accidence and syntax, by Mr. Gomme, Professor Gilbert Murray comes in at times for some vigorous treatment. Unless, indeed, I have ousted him as the stock victim, now that Mr. Gomme has to tell his tale of the marvellous heap of errors he found in _The Outline of History_ and how he up and slew that book. I follow Professor Murray in disbelieving that Homer was one single individual. But Mr. Gomme knows that he was one—to use his own clear-cut Greek phrase—“immortal bard.” He does not say how it is that he knows this. He just knows it, he proclaims it, and the opposite view is “nonsense.” But if he were capable of understanding imaginative quality and differences in inventive method and artistic construction, he would have some glimmering of the reason why men of some creative experience deny the common authorship of the two Greek epics ascribed to Homer. (Of course, Mr. Gomme falls foul of an illustration in the Newnes edition of the head of Homer at this point, and drags the thing into the discussion. If there was no Homer, why did I give a portrait of Homer? Exactly. Why did I?) The _Iliad_, I said, was one of the most interesting and informing of the prehistoric compositions of the Aryans. Mr. Gomme throws a kind of fit at this. He shrieks into Italics. _One of, interesting, informing, prehistoric, composition, Aryan!_ To which I can only reply, slowly and solemnly, “Exactly—one of—interesting—informing—prehistoric—composition—Aryan.” Mr. Gomme does not elucidate his Italics. This is almost as good controversy as making faces. Also this cry is wrung from him. “It would be interesting to see the answer of a man who knew nothing of Greece but what he had learnt from this _Outline_ to the question of