text:  He has no more difficulty to think of Minerva darting in the likeness of a hawk from the snowy crest of Olympus to the shore of the Hellespont--or to imagine the Thunderer in his celestial car lashing on his golden-maned steeds that pace the clouds and the air and waft him at the speed almost of a wish from the unfolding portals of heaven to the summit of Mount Ida--than when he is called upon in the midst of some totally different scene to figure to himself a mortal hero with waving crest glittering in polished brass advancing erect in his war-chariot hurling his lance that misses his foe; and in return transpierced by that of his antagonist falling backwards to the ground in his resounding arms and groaning out his soul in the bloody dust