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HOMER'S BATTLE OF THE FROGS and MICE.

[Price 1s. 6d.]

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HOMER'S BATTLE OF THE Frogs and Mice. WITH THE REMARKS of ZOILUS. To which is Prefix'd, The LIFE of the ſaid ZOILUS.

Vide quam iniqui ſunt divinorum munerum Aeſtimatores, etiam quidam Profeſſi Sapientiam. Seneca.

LONDON, Printed for BERNARD LINTOT, between the Temple-Gates. MDCCXVII.

PREFACE.

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HAVING ſome Time ago heard, that the Tranſlation of HOMER'S Iliad wou'd be attempted, I reſolv'd to confer with the Gentleman who undertook it. I found him of a tall Preſence, and thoughtful Countenance, with his Hands folded, his Eyes fix'd, and his Beard untrimm'd. This I took to be a good Omen, becauſe he thus reſembled the Conſtantinopolitan Statue of HOMER which Cedrenus deſcribes, and ſurely nothing cou'd have been liker, had he but arriv'd at the Character of Age and Blindneſs. As my Buſineſs was to be my Introduction, I told [] him how much I was acquainted with the ſecret Hiſtory of HOMER; that no one better knows his own Horſe, than I do the Camel of Bactria, in which his Soul reſided at the Time of the Trojan Wars; that my Acquaintance continued with him, as he appear'd in the Perſon of the Grecian Poet; that I knew him in his next Tranſmigration into a Peacock; was pleas'd with his Return to Manhood, under the Name of Ennius at Rome; and more pleas'd to hear he wou'd ſoon revive under another Name, with all his full Luſtre, in England. This particular Knowledge, added I, which ſprung from the Love I bear him, has made me fond of a Converſation with you, in Order to the Succeſs of your Tranſlation.

The civil Manner in which he receiv'd my Propoſal encouraging me to proceed, I told him, there were Arts of Succeſs, as well as Merits to obtain it; and that he, who now dealt in Greek, ſhould not only ſatisfy himſelf with being a good Grecian, but alſo contrive to haſten into the Repute of it. He might therefore write in the Title-Page, Tranſlated from the Original GREEK, and ſelect a Motto for his Purpoſe out of the ſame Language. He might obtain a Copy of Verſes written in it to prefix to the Work; and not call the Titles of each Book, The Firſt, and Second, but Iliad Alpha, and Beta. He might retain ſome Names which the World is leaſt acquainted with, as his old Tranſlator Chapman uſes Ephaiſtus inſtead of Vulcan, Baratrum for Hell; and [] if the Notes were fill'd with Greek Verſes, it wou'd more increaſe the Wonder of many Readers. Thus I went on; when he told me, ſmiling, I had ſhewn him indeed a Set of Arts very different from Merit, for which Reaſon, he thought, he ought not to depend upon them. A Succeſs, ſays he, founded on the Ignorance of others, may bring a temporary Advantage, but neither a conſcious Satisfaction, nor future Fame to the Author. Men of Senſe deſpiſe the Affectation which they eaſily ſee through, and even they who were dazzled with it at firſt, are no ſooner inform'd of its being an Affectation, but they imagine it alſo a Veil to cover Imperfection.

The next Point I ventur'd to ſpeak on, was the Sort of Poetry he intended to uſe; how ſome may fancy, a Poet of the greateſt Fire wou'd be imitated better in the Freedom of Blank Verſe, and the Deſcription of War ſounds more pompous out of Rhime. But, will the Tranſlation, ſaid he, be thus remov'd enough from Proſe, without greater Inconveniences? What Tranſpoſitions is Milton forc'd to, as an Equivalent for Want of Rhime, in the Poetry of a Language which depends upon a natural Order of Words? And even this wou'd not have done his Buſineſs, had he not given the fulleſt Scope to his Genius, by chooſing a Subject upon which there could be no Hyperboles. We ſee (however he be deſervedly ſucceſsful) that the Ridicule of his Manner ſucceeds better than the Imitation of it; becauſe Tranſpoſitions, which are unnatural [] to a Language, are to be fairly derided, if they ruin it by being frequently introduced; and becauſe Hyperboles, which outrage every leſſer Subject where they are ſeriouſly us'd, are often beautiful in Ridicule. Let the French, whoſe Language is not copious, tranſlate in Proſe; but ours, which exceeds it in Copiouſneſs of Words, may have a more frequent Likeneſs of Sounds, to make the Uniſon or Rhime eaſier; a Grace of Muſick, that attones for the Harſhneſs our Conſonants and Monyſyllables occaſion.

After this, I demanded what Air he would appear with? whether antiquated, like Chapman's Verſion, or modern, like La Motte's Contraction. To which he anſwer'd, by deſiring me to obſerve what a Painter does who would always have his Pieces in Faſhion. He neither chooſes to draw a Beauty in a Ruff, or a French-Head; but with its Neck uncover'd, and in its natural Ornament of Hair curl'd up, or ſpread becomingly: So may a Writer chooſe a natural Manner of expreſſing himſelf which will always be in Faſhion, without affecting to borrow an odd Solemnity and unintelligible Pomp from the paſt Times, or humouring the preſent by falling into its Affectations, and thoſe Phraſes which are born to die with it.

I ask'd him, laſtly, whether he would be ſtrictly litteral, or expatiate with further Licenſes? I wou'd not be litteral, replies he, or ty'd up to Line for Line in ſuch a Manner, wherein it is impoſſible to expreſs in one Language what has been deliver'd [] in another. Neither wou'd I ſo expatiate, as to alter my Author's Sentiments, or add others of my own. Theſe Errors are to be avoided on either Hand, by adhering not only to the Word, but the Spirit and Genius of an Author; by conſidering what he means, with what beautiful Manner he has expreſs'd his Meaning in his own Tongue, and how he would have expreſs'd himſelf, had it been in ours. Thus we ought to ſeek for HOMER in a Verſion of HOMER: Other Attempts are but Transformations of him; ſuch as Ovid tells us, where the Name is retain'd, and the Thing alter'd: This will be really what you mention'd in the Compliment you began with, a Tranſmigration of the Poet from one Country into another.

Here ended the ſerious Part of our Conference. All I remember further was, that having ask'd him, what he deſign'd with all thoſe Editions and Comments I obſerv'd in his Room? he made Anſwer, That if any one, who had a Mind to find Fault with his Performance, wou'd but ſtay 'till it was entirely finiſh'd, he ſhou'd have a very cheap Bargain of them.

Since this Diſcourſe, I have often reſolv'd to try what it was to tranſlate in the Spirit of a Writer, and at laſt, choſe the Battle of the Frogs and Mice, which is aſcrib'd to HOMER; and bears a nearer Reſemblance to his Iliad, than the Culex does to the Aeneid of Virgil. Statius and others [] think it a Work of Youth, written as a Prelude to his greater Poems. Chapman thinks it the Work of his Age, after he found Men ungrateful; to ſhew he cou'd give Strength, Lineage and Fame as he pleas'd, and praiſe a Mouſe as well as a Man. Thus, ſays he, the Poet profeſſedly flung up the World, and apply'd himſelf at laſt to Hymns. Now, tho' this Reaſon of his may be nothing more than a Scheme form'd out of the Order in which HOMER's Works are printed, yet does the Conjecture that this Poem was written after the Iliad, appear probable, becauſe of its frequent Alluſions to that Poem, and particularly that there is not a Frog or a Mouſe kill'd, which has not its parallel Inſtance there, in the Death of ſome Warrior or other.

The Poem itſelf is of the Epick Kind; the Time of its Action the Duration of two Days; the Subject (however in its Nature frivolous, or ridiculous) rais'd, by having the moſt ſhining Words and Deeds of Gods and Heroes accommodated to it: And while other Poems often compare the illuſtrious Exploits of great Men to thoſe of Brutes, this always heightens the Subject by Compariſons drawn from Things above it. We have a great Character given it with Reſpect to the Fable in Gaddius de Script. non Eccleſ. It appears, ſays he, nearer Perfection than the Iliad, or Odyſſes, and excels both in Judgment, Wit, and exquiſite Texture, ſince it is a Poem perfect in its own Kind. Nor does Cruſius ſpeak leſs to its Honour, with Reſpect to the Moral, when he cries out in an Apoſtrophe to [] the Reader; ‘Whoever you are, mind not the Names of theſe little Animals, but look into the Things they mean; call them Men, call them Kings, or Counſellors, or humane Polity itſelf, you have here Doctrines of every Sort.’ And indeed, when I hear the Frog talk concerning the Mouſe's Family, I learn, Equality ſhou'd be obſerv'd in making Friendſhips; when I hear the Mouſe anſwer the Frog, I remember, that a Similitude of Manners ſhou'd be regarded in them; when I ſee their Councils aſſembling, I think of the Buſtles of humane Prudence; and when I ſee the Battle grow warm and glorious, our Struggles for Honour and Empire appear before me.

This Piece had many Imitations of it in Antiquity, as the Fight of the Cats, the Cranes, the Starlings, the Spiders, &c. That of the Cats is in the Bodleian Library, but I was not ſo lucky as to find it. I have taken the Liberty to divide my Tranſlation into Books (tho' it be otherwiſe in the Original) according as the Fable allow'd proper Reſting-Places, by varying its Scene, or Nature of Action: This I did, after the Example of Ariſtarchus and Zenodotus in the Iliad. I then thought of carrying the Grammarians Example further, and placing Arguments at the Head of each, which I fram'd as follows, in Imitation of the ſhort Ancient Greek Inſcriptions to the Iliad.

[]BOOK I.
In Alpha, the Ground
Of the Quarrel is found.
BOOK II.
In Beta, we
The Council ſee.
BOOK III.
Dire Gamma relates
The Work of the Fates.

But as I am averſe from all Information which leſſens our Surprize, I only mention theſe for a Handle to quarrel with the Cuſtom of long Arguments before a Poem. It may be neceſſary in Books of Controverſy or abſtruſe Learning, to write an Epitome before each Part; but it is not kind to foreſtal us in a Work of Fancy, and make our Attention remiſs by a previous Account of the End of it.

The next Thing which employ'd my Thoughts was the Heroes Names. It might perhaps take off ſomewhat from the Majeſty of the Poem, had I caſt away ſuch noble Sounds as, Phyſignathus, Lycopinax, and Crambophagus, to ſubſtitute Bluffcheek, Lickdiſh, and Cabbage-Eater, in their Places. It is for this Reaſon I have retain'd them [] untranſlated: However, I place them in Engliſh before the Poem, and ſometimes give a ſhort Character extracted out of their Names; as in Polyphonus, Pternophagus, &c. that the Reader may not want ſome Light of their Humour in the Original.

But what gave me a greater Difficulty was, to know how I ſhou'd follow the Poet, when he inſerted Pieces of Lines from his Iliad, and ſtruck out a Sprightlineſs by their new Application. To ſupply this in my Tranſlation, I have added one or two of HOMER'S Particularities; and us'd two or three Alluſions to ſome of our Engliſh Poets who moſt reſemble him, to keep up ſome Image of this Spirit of the Original with an equivalent Beauty. To uſe more might make my Performance ſeem a Cento rather than a Tranſlation, to thoſe who know not the Neceſſity I lay under.

I am not ignorant, after all my Care, how the World receives the beſt Compoſitions of this Nature. A Man need only go to a Painter's, and apply what he hears ſaid of a Picture to a Tranſlation, to find how he ſhall be us'd upon his own, or his Author's Account. There one Spectator tells you, a Piece is extreamly fine, but he ſets no Value on what is not like the Face it was drawn for, while a ſecond informs you, ſuch another is extreamly like, but he cares not for a Piece of Deformity, tho' its Likeneſs be never ſo exact.

[] Yet notwithſtanding all which happens to the beſt, when I tranſlate, I have a Deſire to be reckon'd amongſt them; and I ſhall obtain this, if the World will be ſo good-natur'd as to believe Writers that give their own Characters: Upon which Preſumption, I anſwer to all Objections beforehand, as follows:

When I am litteral, I regard my Author's Words; when I am not, I tranſlate in his Spirit. If I am low, I chooſe the narrative Style; if high, the Subject requir'd it. When I am enervate, I give an Inſtance of ancient Simplicity; when affected, I ſhow a Point of modern Delicacy. As for Beauties, there never can be one found in me which was not really intended; and for any Faults, they proceeded from too unbounded Fancy, or too nice Judgment, but by no means from any Defect in either of thoſe Faculties.

THE LIFE OF ZOILUS.
THE LIFE OF ZOILUS.

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‘Pendentem volo Zoilum videre.’Martial.

THEY who have diſcours'd concerning the Nature and Extent of Criticiſm, take Notice, That Editions of Authors, the Interpretations of them, and the Judgment which is paſs'd upon each, are the three Branches into which the Art divides itſelf, But the laſt of theſe, that directs in the Choice of Books, and takes Care to [] [...] [] prepare us for reading them, is by the learned Bacon call'd the Chair of the Criticks. In this Chair (to carry on the Figure) have ſate Ariſtotle, Demetrius Phalereus, Dionyſius Halicarnaſſenſis, Cicero, Horace, Quintillian, and Longinus; all great Names of Antiquity, the Cenſors of thoſe Ages which went before, and the Directors of thoſe that come after them, with Reſpect to the natural and perſpicuous Manners of Thought and Expreſſion, by which a correct and judicious Genius may be able to write for the Pleaſure and Profit of Mankind.

But whatever has been advanc'd by Men really great in themſelves, has been alſo attempted by others of Capacities either unequal to the Undertaking, or which have been corrupted by their Paſſions, and drawn away into partial Violences: So that we have ſometimes ſeen the Province of Criticiſm uſurp'd, by ſuch who judge with an obſcure Diligence, and a certain Dryneſs of Underſtanding, incapable of comprehending a figurative Stile, or being mov'd by the Beauties of Imagination; and at other Times by ſuch, whoſe natural Moroſeneſs in general, or particular Deſigns of Envy, has render'd them indefatigable againſt the Reputation of others.

In this laſt Manner is ZOILUS repreſented to us by Antiquity, and with a Character ſo abandon'd, that his Name has been ſince made Uſe of to brand all ſucceeding Criticks of his Complexion. He has a Load of Infamy thrown upon him, great, in Proportion to the Fame of HOMER, againſt whom he oppos'd himſelf: If the [] one was eſteem'd as the very Reſidence of Wit, the other is deſcrib'd as a Profligate, who wou'd deſtroy the Temple of Apollo and the Muſes, in Order to have his Memory preſerv'd by the envious Action. I imagine it may be no ungrateful Undertaking to write ſome Account of this celebrated Perſon, from whom ſo many derive their Character; and I think the Life of a Critick is not unſeaſonably put before the Works of his Poet, eſpecially when his Cenſures accompany him. If what he advances be juſt, he ſtands here as a Cenſor; if otherwiſe, he appears as an Addition to the Poet's Fame, and is placed before him with the Juſtice of Antiquity in its Sacrifices, when, becauſe ſuch a Beaſt had offended ſuch a Deity, he was brought annually to l is Altar to be ſlain upon it.

ZOILUS was born at Amphipolis a City of Thrace, during the Time in which the Macedonian Empire flouriſh'd. Who his Parents were is not certainly known, but if the Appellation of Thracian Slave, which the World apply'd to him, be not meerly an Expreſſion of Contempt, it proves him of mean Extraction. He was a Diſciple of one Polycrates a Sophiſt, who had diſtinguiſh'd himſelf by writing againſt the great Names of the Ages before him; and who, when he is mention'd as his Maſter, is ſaid to be particularly famous for a bitter Accuſation or Invective againſt the Memory of Socrates. In this Manner is ZOILUS ſet out to Poſterity, like a Plant naturally [] baneful, and having its Poiſon render'd more acute and ſubtile by a Preparation.

In his Perſon he was tall and meagre, his Complexion was pale, and all the Motions of his Face were ſharp. He is repreſented by Aelian, with a Beard nouriſh'd to a prodigious Length, and his Head kept cloſe ſhav'd, to give him a Magiſterial Appearance: His Coat hung over his Knees in a ſlovenly Faſhion; his Manners were form'd upon an Averſion to the Cuſtoms of the World. He was fond of ſpeaking ill, diligent to ſow Diſſention, and from the conſtant Bent of his Thought, had obtain'd that Sort of Readineſs for Slander or Reproach, which is eſteem'd Wit by the light Opinion of ſome, who take the Remarks of ill Nature for an Underſtanding of Mankind, and the abrupt Laſhes of Rudeneſs for the Spirit of Expreſſion. This, at laſt, grew to ſuch a Heighth in him, that he became careleſs of concealing it; he threw off all Reſerves and Managements in Reſpect of others, and the Paſſion ſo far took the Turn of a Frenzy, that being one Day ask'd, why he ſpoke ill of every one? ‘It is (ſays he) becauſe I am not able to do them Ill, tho' I have ſo great a Mind to it.’ Such extravagant Declarations of his general Enmity made Men deal with him as with the Creature he affected to be; they no more ſpoke of him as belonging to the Species he hated; and from henceforth his learned Speeches or fine Remarks cou'd obtain no other Title for him, but that of The Rhetorical Dog.

[] While he was in Macedon he employ'd his Time in writing, and reciting what he had written in the Schools of Sophiſts. His Oratory (ſays Dioniſius Halicarnaſſenſis) was always of the demonſtrative Kind, which concerns itſelf about Praiſe or Diſpraiſe. His Subjects were the moſt approv'd Authors, whom he choſe to abuſe upon the Account of their Reputation; and to whom, without going round the Matter in faint Praiſes or artificial Inſinuations, he us'd to deny their own Characteriſticks. With this Gallantry of Oppoſition did he cenſure Zenophon for Affectation, Plato for vulgar Notions, and Iſocrates for Incorrectneſs. Demoſthenes, in his Opinion, wanted Fire, Ariſtotle Subtilty, and Ariſtophanes Humour. But, as to have Reputation was with him a ſufficient Cauſe of Enmity, ſo to have that Reputation univerſal, was what wrought his Frenzy to its wildeſt Degree; for which Reaſon it was HOMER with whom he was moſt implacably angry. And certainly, if Envy chooſe its Object for the Power to give Torment, it ſhou'd here (if ever) have the Glory of fully anſwering its Intentions; for the Poet was ſo worſhip'd by the whole Age, that his Critick had not the common Alleviation of the Opinion of one other Man, to concur in his Condemnation.

ZOILUS however went on with indefatigable Induſtry in a voluminous Work which he entitled, The [...], or Cenſure of HOMER: 'Till having at laſt finiſh'd it, he prepares to ſend it into the [] World with a pompous Title at the Head, invented for himſelf by Way of Excellency, and thus inſerted after the Manner of the Ancients.

ZOILUS, the Scourge of HOMER, writ this againſt that Lover of Fables.

Thus did he value himſelf upon a Work, which the World has not thought worth tranſmitting to us, and but juſt left a Specimen in five or ſix Quotations, which happen to be preſerv'd by the Commentators of that Poet againſt whom he writ it. If any One be fond to form a Judgment upon him from theſe Inſtances, they are as follows:

Il. 1. He ſays, HOMER is very ridiculous (a Word he was noted to apply to him) when he makes ſuch a God as Apollo employ himſelf in killing Dogs and Mules.

Il. 5. HOMER is very ridiculous in deſcribing Diomedes's Helmet and Armour, as ſparkling, and in a Blaze of Fire about him, for then why was he not burn'd by it?

Il. 5. When Idaeus quitted his fine Chariot, which was entangl'd in the Fight, and for which he might have been ſlain, the Poet was a Fool for making him leave his Chariot, he had better have run away in it.

Il. 24. When Achilles makes Priam lie out of his Tent, left the Greeks ſhou'd hear of his being there, the Poet had no Breeding, to turn a King out in that Manner.

Od. 9. The Poet ſays, Ulyſſes loſt an equal Number out of each Ship. The Critick ſays, that's impoſſible.

[] Od. 10. He derides the Men who were turn'd into Swine, and calls them HOMER'S poor little blubbering Pigs. The firſt five of theſe Remarks are found in Didymus, the laſt in Longinus.

Such as theſe are the cold Jeſts and trifling Quarrels, which have been regiſtred from a Compoſition that (according to the Repreſentation handed down to us) was born in Envy, liv'd a ſhort Life in Contempt, and lies for ever bury'd with Infamy.

But, as his Deſign was judg'd by himſelf wonderfully well accompliſh'd, Macedon began to be eſteem'd a Stage too narrow for his Glory; and Aegypt, which had then taken Learning into its Patronage, the proper Place where it ought to diffuſe its Beams, to the Surprize of all whom he wou'd perſwade to reckon themſelves hitherto in the Dark, and under the Prejudices of a falſe Admiration. However as he had prepar'd himſelf for the Journey, he was ſuddenly diverted for a while by the Rumour of the Olympick Games, which were at that Time to be celebrated. Thither he ſteer'd his Courſe full of the Memory of Herodotus, and others who had ſucceſsfully recited in that large Aſſembly; and pleas'd to imagine he ſhou'd alter all Greece in their Notions of Wit before he left it.

Upon his Arrival, he found the Field in its Preparation for Diverſion. The Chariots ſtood for the Race, carv'd and gilded, the Horſes were led in coſtly Trappings, ſome practis'd to wreſtle, [] ſome to dart the Spear, (or whatever they deſign'd to engage at) in a Kind of Flouriſh beforehand: Others were looking on to amuſe themſelves; and all gaily dreſs'd according to the Cuſtom of thoſe Places. Through theſe did ZOILUS move forward, bald-headed, bearded to the Middle, in a long ſad-colour'd Veſtment, and inflexibly ſtretching forth his Hands fill'd with Volumns roll'd up to a vaſt Thickneſs: a Figure moſt venerably ſlovenly! able to demand Attention upon Account of its Oddneſs. And indeed, he had no ſooner fix'd himſelf upon an Eminence, but a Crowd flock'd about him to know what he intended. Then the Critick caſting his Eyes on the Ring, open'd his Volume ſlowly, as conſidering with what Part he might moſt properly entertain his Audience. It happen'd, that the Games at Patroclus's Obſequies came firſt into his Thought; whether it was that he judg'd it ſuitable to the Place, or knew that he had fall'n as well upon the Games themſelves, as upon HOMER for celebrating them, and cou'd not reſiſt his natural Diſpoſition to give Mankind Offence. Every One was now intently faſten'd upon him, while he undertook to prove, that thoſe Games ſignify'd nothing to the Taking of Troy, and therefore only furniſh'd an impertinent Epiſode: that the Fall of the Leſſer Ajax in Cow-dung, the Squabble of the Chariot-Race, and other Accidents which attend ſuch Sports, are mean or trifling: and a World of other Remarks, for [] which he ſtill affirm'd HOMER to be a Fool, and which they that heard him took for ſtudy'd Invectives againſt thoſe Exerciſes they were then employ'd in. Men who frequent Sports, as they are of a chearful Diſpoſition, ſo are they Lovers of Poetry: This, together with the Opinion they were affronted, wrought them up to Impatience and further Licenſes: There was particularly a young Athenian Gentleman who was to run three Chariots in thoſe Games, who being an Admirer of HOMER, cou'd no longer contain himſelf, but cry'd out, ‘What in the Name of Caſtor have we here, ZOILUS from Thrace? and as he ſaid it, ſtruck him with a Chariot-Whip. Immediately then a Hundred Whips were ſeen curling round his Head; ſo that his Face, naturally deform'd, and heighten'd by Pain to its utmoſt Caricatura, appear'd in the Midſt of them, as we may fancy the Viſage of Envy, if at any Time her Snakes riſe in Rebellion to laſh their Miſtreſs. Nor was this all the Puniſhment they decreed him, when once they imagin'd he was ZOILUS: The Scyronian Rocks were near 'em, and thither they hurried him with a general Cry, to that ſpeedy Juſtice which is practis'd at Places of Diverſion.

It is here, that, according to Suidas, the Critick expir'd. But we following the more numerous Teſtimonies of other Authors, conclude he eſcap'd either by the Lowneſs of thoſe Rocks whence he was thruſt, or by Buſhes which might break his Fall; and ſoon after following [] the Courſes of his firſt Intention, he ſet Sail for Aegypt.

Aegypt was at this Time govern'd by Ptolomy Philadelphus, a Prince paſſionately fond of Learning, and learned Men; particularly an Admirer of HOMER to Adoration. He had built the fineſt Library in the World, and made the choiceſt, as well as moſt numerous Collection of Books. No Encouragements were wanting from him to allure Men of the brighteſt Genius to his Court, and no Time thought too much which he ſpent in their Company. From hence it is that we hear of Eratoſthenes and Ariſtophanes, thoſe univerſal Scholars, and candid Judges of other Mens Performances: Callimachus, a Poet of the moſt eaſy, courteous Delicacy, famous for a Poem on the Cutting of Berenice's Hair; and whom Ovid ſo much admired as to ſay, ‘It was Reaſon enough for him to love a Woman, if ſhe wou'd but tell him he exceeded Callimachus;’ Theocritus, the moſt famous in the Paſtoral Way of Writing; And among the young Men, Ariſtarchus and Apollonius Rhodius, the one of whom prov'd a moſt judicious Critick, the other a Poet of no mean Character.

Theſe and many more fill'd the Court of that munificent Prince, whoſe liberal Diſpenſations of Wealth and Favour became Encouragements to every One to exert their Parts to the utmoſt; like Streams which flow through different Sorts of Soils, and improve each in that for which it was adapted by Nature.

[] Such was the Court when ZOILUS arriv'd; but before he enter'd Alexandria, he ſpent a Night in the Temple of Iſis, to enquire of the Succeſs of his Undertaking; not that he doubted the Worth of his Works, but his late Misfortune had inſtructed him, that others might be ignorant of it. Having therefore perform'd the accuſtom'd Sacrifice, and compos'd himſelf to reſt upon the Hide, he had a Viſion which foretold of his future Fame.

He found himſelf ſitting under the Shade of a dark Yew, which was cover'd with Hellebore and Hemlock, and near the Mouth of a Cave, where fate a Monſter, pale, waſted, ſurrounded with Snakes, foſt'ring a Cockatrice in her Boſom; and curſing the Sun, for making the Work of the Deities appear in its Beauty. The Sight of this bred Fear in him; when ſhe ſuddenly turning her ſunk Eyes, put on a hideous Kind of a loving Grin, in which he diſcover'd a Reſemblance to ſome of his own Features. Then turning up her Snakes, and interlacing them in the Form of a Turbant to give him leſs Diſguſt, ſhe thus addreſs'd herſelf: ‘Go on, my Son, in whom I am renew'd, and proſper in thy brave Undertakings on Mankind: Aſſert their Wit to be Dulneſs; prove their Senſe to be Folly; know Truth only when it is on thy own Side; and acknowledge Learning at no other Time to be uſeful. Spare not an Author of any Rank or Size; let not thy Tongue or Pen know Pity; make the living feel [] thy Accuſations; make the Ghoſts of the dead groan in their Tombs for their violated Fame. But why do I ſpend Time in needleſs Advice, which may be better us'd in Encouragement? Let thy Eyes delight themſelves with the future Recompence which I have reſerv'd for thy Merit.’ Thus ſpoke the Monſter, and ſhriek'd the Name of ZOILUS: The Shades who were to bear the ſame Name after him became obedient, and the Mouth of the Cave was fill'd with ſtrange ſupercilious Countenances, which all crowded to make their Appearance. Theſe began to march before him with an Imitation of his Mien and Manners: Some crown'd with wild Sorrel, others having Leaves of dead Bays mingl'd amongſt it; while the Monſter ſtill deſcrib'd them as he paſs'd, and touch'd each with a livid Track of malignant Light that ſhot from her Eye, to point where ſhe meant the Deſcription. ‘They (ſays ſhe) in the Chaplets of wild Sorrel, are my Writers of Proſe, who erect Scandal into Criticiſm: They who wear the wither'd Bay with it, are ſuch who write Poems, which are profeſſedly to anſwer all Rules, and be left for Patterns to Men of Genius. Theſe that follow ſhall attack others, becauſe they are excell'd by them. The next Rank ſhall make an Author's being read a ſufficient Ground of Oppoſition. Here march my Grammarians skill'd to torture Words; there my Sons of Sophiſtry, ever ready to wreſt a Meaning. Obſerve how faint the foremoſt of the Proceſſion appear; and [] how they are now loſt in yonder Miſts which roll about the Cave of Oblivion! This ſhews, it is not for themſelves that they are to be known; the World will conſider them only as managing a Part of thy Endowments, and ſo know them by thy Name while they live, that their own ſhall be loſt for ever. But ſee how my Cave ſtill ſwarms! how every Age produces Men, upon whom the Preſervation of thy Memory devolves. My Darling, the Fates have decreed it! Thou art ZOILUS, and ZOILUS ſhall be eternal: Come, my Serpents, applaud him with your Hiſſes, that is all which now can be done; in modern Times my Sons ſhall invent louder Inſtruments, and artificial Imitations, Noiſes which drown the Voice of Merit, ſhall furniſh a Conſort to delight them.’ Here ſhe aroſe to claſp him in her Arms, a ſtrange Noiſe was heard, the Critick ſtarted at it, and his Viſion forſook him.

It was with ſome Confuſion, that he lay muſing a while upon what he had ſeen; but reflecting, that the Goddeſs had giv'n him no Anſwer concerning his Succeſs in Aegypt, he ſtrengthen'd his Heart in his ancient Self-Love and Enmity to others, and took all for an idle Dream born of the Fumes of Indigeſtion, or produc'd by the dizzy Motion of his Voyage. In this Opinion, he told it at his Departure to the Prieſt, who admiring the extraordinary Relation, regiſtred it in Hieroglyphicks at Canopus.

[] The Day when he came to Alexandria was one on which the King had appointed Games to Apollo and the Muſes, and Honours and Rewards for ſuch Writers as ſhou'd appear in them. This he took for a happy Omen at his Entrance, and, not to loſe an Opportunity of ſhewing himſelf, repair'd immediately to the publick Theatre, where, as if every Thing was to favour him, the very firſt Accident gave his Spleen a Diverſion, which we find at large in the Proem of the ſeventh Book of Vitruvius. It happen'd that when the Poets had recited, ſix of the Judges decreed the Prizes with a full Approbation of all the Audience. From this Ariſtophanes alone diſſented, and demanded the firſt Prize for a Perſon whoſe baſhful and interrupted Manner of ſpeaking made him appear the moſt diſguſtful: For he (ſays the Judge) is alone a Poet, and all the reſt Reciters; and they who are Judges ſhou'd not approve Thefts, but Writings. To maintain his Aſſertion, thoſe Volumns were produc'd from whence they had been ſtoll'n: Upon which the King order'd them to be formally try'd for Theft, and diſmiſs'd with Infamy; but plac'd Ariſtophanes over his Library, as One, who had given a Proof of his Knowledge in Books. This Paſſage ZOILUS often afterwards repeated with Pleaſure, for the Number of Diſgraces which happen'd in it to the Pretenders in Poetry; tho' his Envy made him ſtill careful not to name Ariſtophanes, but a Judge in general.

[] However, Criticiſm had only a ſhort Triumph over Poetry, when he made the next Turn his own, by ſtepping forward into the Place of reciting. Here he immediately rais'd the Curioſity, and drew the Attention of both King and People: But, as it happen'd, neither the one nor the other laſted; for the firſt Sentence where he had regiſtred his own Name, ſatisfied their Curioſity; and the next, where he offer'd to prove to a Court ſo devoted to Homer, that he was ridiculous in every thing, went near to finiſh his Audience. He was nevertheleſs heard quietly for ſome Time, till the King ſeeing no End of his Abuſing the Prince of Philological Learning, (as Vitruvius words it) departed in Diſdain. The Judges follow'd, deriding his Attempt as an Extravagance which cou'd not demand their Gravity; and the People taking a Licenſe from the Precedent, hooted him away with Obloquy and Indignation. Thus Zoilus fail'd at his firſt Appearance, and was forc'd to retire, ſtung with a moſt impatient Senſe of publick Contempt.

Yet notwithſtanding all this, he did not omit his Attendance at Court on the Day following, with a Petition that he might be put upon the Eſtabliſhment of Learning, and allow'd a Penſion. This the King read, but return'd no Anſwer: So great was the Scorn he conceiv'd againſt him. But ZOILUS ſtill undauntedly renew'd his Petitions, 'till Ptolomy, being weary of his Perſecution, gave him a flat Denial. HOMER, (ſays [] the Prince) who has been dead theſe Thouſand Years, has maintain'd Thouſands of People; and ZOILUS, who boaſts he has more Wit than he, ought not only to maintain himſelf, but many others alſo.

His Petitions being thrown careleſly about, were fall'n into the Hands of Men of Wit, whom, according to his Cuſtom, he had provok'd, and whom it is unſafe to provoke if you wou'd live unexpos'd. I can compare them to nothing more properly, than to the Bee, a Creature wing'd and lively, fond to rove through the choiceſt Flowers of Nature, and bleſt at home among the Sweets of its own Compoſition: Not ill-natur'd, yet quick to revenge an Injury; not wearing its Sting out of the Sheath, yet able to wound more ſorely than its Appearance wou'd threaten. Now theſe being made perſonal Enemies by his malicious Expreſſions, the Court rung with Petitions of ZOILUS tranſvers'd; new Petitions drawn up for him; Catalogues of his Merits, ſuppos'd to be collected by himſelf; his Complaints of Man's Injuſtice ſet to a Harp out of Tune, and a Hundred other Sports of Fancy, with which their Epigrams play'd upon him. Theſe were the Ways of Writing which ZOILUS hated, becauſe they were not only read, but retain'd eaſily, by Reaſon of their Spirit, Humour, and Brevity; and becauſe they not only make the Man a Jeſt upon whom they are written, but a further Jeſt, if he attempt to anſwer them gravely. [] However, he did what he cou'd in Revenge; he endeavour'd to ſet thoſe whom he envy'd at Variance among themſelves, and invented Lies to promote his Deſign. He told Eratoſthenes, that Callimachus ſaid, his Extent of Learning conſiſted but in a ſuperficial Knowledge of the Sciences; and whiſper'd Callimachus, that Eratoſthenes only allow'd him to have an artful habitual Knack of Verſifying. He would have made Ariſtophanes believe, that Theocritus rally'd his Knowledge in Editions as a curious Kind of Triffling; and Theocritus, that Ariſtophanes derided the ruſtical Simplicity of his Shepherds. Tho' of all his Stories, that which he moſt valu'd himſelf for, was his conſtant Report, that every one whom he hated was a Friend to Antiochus King of Syria, the Enemy of Ptolomy.

But Malice is unſucceſsful when the Character of its Agent is known: They grew more Friends to one another, by imagining, that even what had been ſaid, as well as what had not, was all of ZOILUS'S Invention; and as he grew more and more the common Jeſt, their Deriſion of him became a Kind of Life and Cement to their Converſation.

Contempt, Poverty, and other Misfortunes had now ſo aſſaulted him, that even they who abhorr'd his Temper, contributed ſomething to his Support, in common Humanity. Yet ſtill his Envy, like a vitiated Stomach, converted every Kindneſs to the Nouriſhment of his Diſeaſe; and 'twas the whole Buſineſs of his Life to revile HOMER, [] and thoſe by whom he himſelf ſubſiſted. In this Humour he had Days, which were ſo given up to impatient Ill-nature, that he cou'd neither write any Thing, nor converſe with any One. Theſe he ſometimes employ'd in throwing Stones at Children; which was once ſo unhappily return'd upon him, that he was taken up for dead: And this occaſion'd the Report in ſome Authors, of his being ſton'd to Death in Aegypt. Or, ſometimes he convey'd himſelf into the Library, where he blotted the Name of HOMER wherever he could meet it, and tore the beſt Editions of ſeveral Volumns; for which the Librarians debarr'd him the Privilege of that Place. Theſe and other Miſchiefs made him univerſally ſhunn'd; nay, to ſuch an Extravagance was his Character of Envy carry'd, that the more ſuperſtitious Aegyptians imagin'd they were faſcinated by him, if the Day were darker, or themſelves a little heavier than ordinary; ſome wore Sprigs of Rue, by Way of Prevention; and others, Rings made of the Hoof of a wild Aſs for Amulets, leſt they ſhou'd ſuffer, by his fixing an Eye upon them.

It was now near the Time, when that ſplendid Temple which Ptolomy built in Honour of HOMER, was to be open'd with a ſolemn Magnificence: For this the Men of Genius were employ'd in finding a proper Pageant. At laſt, they agreed by one Conſent, to have ZOILUS, the utter Enemy of HOMER, hang'd in Effigie; [] and the Day being come, it was on this Manner they form'd the Proceſſion. Twelve beautiful Boys, lightly habited in white, with purple Wings repreſenting the Hours, went on the foremoſt: After theſe came a Chariot exceeding high and ſtately, where ſate one repreſenting Apollo, with another at his Feet, who in this Pomp ſuſtain'd the Perſon of HOMER: Apollo's Lawrel had little gilded Points, like the Appearance of Rays between its Leaves; HOMER'S was bound with a blue Fillet, like that which is worn by the Prieſts of the Deity: Apollo was diſtinguiſh'd by the golden Harp he bore; HOMER, by a Volumn, richly beautify'd with Horns of inlaid Ivory, and Taſſels of Silver depending from them. Behind theſe came three Chariots, in which rode nine Damſels, each of them with that Inſtrument which is proper to each of the Muſes; among whom, Calliope, to give her the Honour of the Day, ſate in the Middle of the ſecond Chariot, known by her richer Veſtments. After theſe march'd a ſolemn Train aptly habited, like thoſe Sciences which acknowledge their Riſe or Improvement from this Poet. Then the Men of Learning who attended the Court, with Wreaths, and Rods or Scepters of Lawrel, as taking upon themſelves the Repreſentation of Rhapſodiſts, to do Honour, for the Time, to HOMER. In the Rear of all was ſlowly drawn along an odd Carriage, rather than a Chariot, [] which had its Sides artfully turn'd, and carv'd ſo as to bear a Reſemblance to the Heads of ſnarling Maſtiffs. In this was born, as led in Triumph, a tall Image of Deformity, whoſe Head was bald, and wound about with Nettles for a Chaplet. The Tongue lay lolling out, to ſhew a Contempt of Mankind, and was fork'd at the End, to confeſs its Love to Detraction. The Hands were manacled behind, and the Fingers arm'd with long Nails, to cut deep through the Margins of Authors. Its Veſture was of the Paper of Nilus, bearing inſcrib'd upon its Breaſt in Capital Letters, ZOILUS the HOMERO-MASTIX; and all the reſt of it was ſcrawl'd with various Monſters of that River, as Emblems of thoſe Productions with which that Critick us'd to fill his Papers. When they had reach'd the Temple, where the King and his Court were already plac'd to behold them from its Galleries, the Image of ZOILUS was hung upon a Gibbet, there erected for it, with ſuch loud Acclamations as witneſs'd the Peoples Satisfaction. This being finiſh'd, the Hours knock'd at the Gates, which flew open, and diſcover'd the Statue of HOMER magnificently ſeated, with the Pictures of thoſe Cities which contended for his Birth, rang'd in Order around him. Then they who repreſented the Deities in the Proceſſion, laying aſide their Enſigns of Divinity, uſher'd in the Men of Learning with a Sound of Voices, and their [] various Inſtruments, to aſſiſt at a Sacrifice in Honour of Apollo and his Favourite HOMER.

It may be eaſily believ'd, that ZOILUS concluded his Affairs were at the utmoſt Point of Deſperation in Aegypt; wherefore, fill'd with Pride, Scorn, Anger, Vexation, Envy, (and whatever cou'd torment him, except the Knowledge of his Unworthineſs) he flung himſelf aboard the firſt Ship which left that Country. As it happen'd, the Veſſel he ſail'd in was bound for Aſia Minor, and this landing him at a Port the neareſt to Smyrna, he was a little pleas'd amidſt his Miſery to think of decrying HOMER in another Place where he was ador'd, and which chiefly pretended to his Birth. So incorrigible was his Diſpoſition, that no Experience taught him any Thing which might contribute to his Eaſe and Safety.

And as his Experience wrought nothing on him, ſo neither did the Accidents, which the Opinion of thoſe Times took for ominous Warnings: For, he is reported to have ſeen the Night he came to Smyrna, a venerable Perſon, ſuch as HOMER is deſcrib'd by Antiquity, threatning him in a Dream; and in the Morning he found a Part of his Works gnaw'd by Mice, which, ſays Aelian, are of all Beaſts the moſt prophetick; inſomuch that they know when to leave a Houſe, even before its Fall is ſuſpected. Envy, which has no Relaxation, ſtill hurry'd him forward, for it is certainly true [] that a Man has not firmer Reſolution from Reaſon, to ſtand by a good Principle, than Obſtinacy from perverted Nature, to adhere to a bad one.

In the Morning as he walk'd the Street, he obſerv'd in ſome Places Inſcriptions concerning HOMER, which inform'd him where he liv'd, where he had taught School, and ſeveral other Particularitieswhich the Smyrneans glory to have recorded of him; all which awaken'd and irritated the Paſſions of ZOILUS. But his Temper was quite overthrown, by the venerable Appearance which he ſaw, upon entring the Homereum; which is a Building compos'd of a Library, Porch, and Temple erected to HOMER. Here a Phrenzy ſeiz'd him which knew no Bounds; he rav'd violently againſt the Poet, and all his Admirers; he trampled on his Works, he ſpurn'd about his Commentators, he tore down his Buſts from the Niches, threw the Medals that were caſt of him out of the Windows, and paſſing from one Place to another, beat the aged Prieſts, and broke down the Altar. The Cries which were occaſioned by this Means brought in many upon him; who obſerv'd with Horror how the moſt ſacred Honours of their City were prophan'd by the frantick Impiety of a Stranger; and immediately dragg'd him to Puniſhment before their Magiſtrates, who were then ſitting. He was no ſooner there, but known for ZOILUS by ſome [] in Court, a Name a long Time moſt hateful to Smyrna; which, as it valu'd itſelf upon the Birth of HOMER, ſo bore more impatiently than other Places, the Abuſes offer'd him. This made them eager to propitiate his Shade, and claim to themſelves a ſecond Merit by the Death of ZOILUS; wherefore they ſentenc'd him to ſuffer by Fire, as the due Reward of his Deſecrations; and order'd, that their City ſhou'd be purify'd by a Luſtration, for having entertain'd ſo impious a Gueſt. In Purſuance to this Sentence, he was led away, with his Compoſitions born before him by the publick Executioner: Then was he faſten'd to the Stake, propheſying all the while how many ſhou'd ariſe to revenge his Quarrel: particularly, that when Greek ſhou'd be no more a Language, there ſhall be a Nation which will both tranſlate HOMER into Proſe, and contract him in Verſe. At laſt, his Compoſitions were lighted to ſet the Pile on Fire, and he expir'd ſighing for the Loſs of them, more than for the Pain he ſuffer'd: And perhaps too, becauſe he might foreſee in his prophetick Rapture, that there ſhou'd ariſe a Poet in another Nation, able to do HOMER Juſtice, and make him known amongſt his People to future Ages.

Thus dy'd this noted Critick, of whom we may obſerve from the Courſe of the Hiſtory, that as ſeveral Cities contended for the [] Honour of the Birth of HOMER, ſo ſeveral have contended for the Honour of the Death of ZOILUS. With him likewiſe periſh'd his great Work on the Iliad, and the Odyſſes; concerning which we obſerve alſo, that as the known Worth of HOMER'S Poetry makes him ſurvive himſelf with Glory; ſo the bare Memory of ZOILUS'S Criticiſm makes him ſurvive himſelf with Infamy. Theſe are deſervedly the Conſequences of that ill Nature which made him fond of Detraction, that Envy, which made him chooſe ſo excellent a Character for its Object, and thoſe partial Methods of Injuſtice with which he treated the Object he had choſen.

Yet how many commence Criticks after him, upon the ſame unhappy Principles? How many labour to deſtroy the Monuments of the dead, and ſummon up the Great from their Graves to anſwer for Trifles before them? How many, by Miſrepreſentations, both hinder the World from favouring Men of Genius, and diſcourage them in themſelves; like Boughs of a baneful and barren Nature, that ſhoot a-croſs a Fruit-Tree; at once to ſcreen the Sun from it, and hinder it by their Droppings from producing any Thing of Value? But if theſe who thus follow ZOILUS, meet not the ſame Severities of Fate, becauſe they come ſhort of his Indefatigableneſs, or their Object is not ſo univerſally the Concern of Mankind; they ſhall nevertheleſs [] meet a Proportion of it in the inward Trouble they give themſelves, and the outward Contempt others fling upon them: A Puniſhment which every one has hitherto felt, who has really deſerv'd to be call'd a ZOILUS; and which will always be the natural Reward of ſuch Mens Actions, as long as ZOILUS is the proper Name of Envy.

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Names of the MICE.
PSYCARPAX,
One who plunders Granaries.
Troxartas,
A Bread-eater.
Lychomile,
A Licker of Meal.
Pternotractas,
A Bacon-eater.
Lychopinax,
A Licker of Diſhes.
Embaſichytros,
A Creeper into Pots.
Lychenor,
A Name from Licking.
Troglodytes,
One who runs into Holes.
Artophagus,
Who feeds on Bread.
Tyroglyphus,
A Cheeſe-Scooper.
Pternoglyphus,
A Bacon-Scooper.
Pternophogus,
A Bacon-Eater.
Cniſſodioctes,
One who follows the Steam of Kitchens.
Sitophagus,
An Eater of Wheat.
Meridarpax,
One who plunders his Share.
Names of the FROGS.
PHYSIGNATHUS,
One who ſwells his Cheeks.
Peleus,
A Name from Mud.
Hydromeduſe,
A Ruler in the Waters.
Hypſiboas,
A loud Bawler.
Pelion,
From Mud.
Seutlaeus,
Call'd from the Beets.
Polyphonus,
A great Babbler.
Lymnocharis,
One who loves the Lake.
Crambophagus,
Cabbage-eater.
Lymniſius,
Call'd from the Lake.
Calaminthius,
From the Herb.
Hydrocharis,
Who loves the Water
Borborocates,
Who lies in the Mud
Praſſophagus,
An Eater of Garlick.
Peluſius,
From Mud.
Pelobates,
Who walks in the Dirt.
Praſſaeus,
Call'd from Garlick.
Craugaſides,
from Croaking.

HOMER'S BATTLE of the FROGS and MICE BOOK I.

[]
TO fill my riſing Song with ſacred Fire,
Ye tuneful Nine, ye ſweet Celeſtial Quire
From Helicon's imbow'ring Height repai [...]
Attend my Labours, and reward my Pray' [...]
The dreadful Toils of raging Mars I writ [...]
The Springs of Conteſt, and the Fields of Fight;
How threatning Mice advanc'd with warlike Grace,
And wag'd dire Combats with the croaking Race.
[2]
Not louder Tumults ſhook Olympus' Tow'rs,
When Earth-born Giants dar'd Immortal Pow'rs.
Theſe equal Acts an equal Glory claim,
And thus the Muſe records the Tale of Fame.
Once on a Time, fatigu'd and out of Breath,
And juſt eſcap'd the ſtretching Claws of Death,
A Gentle Mouſe, whom Cats purſu'd in vain,
Flies ſwift-of-foot acroſs the neighb'ring Plain,
Hangs o'er a Brink, his eager Thirſt to cool,
And dips his Whiskers in the ſtanding Pool;
When near a courteous Frog advanc'd his Head,
And from the Waters, hoarſe-reſounding ſaid,
What art thou, Stranger? What the Line you boaſt?
What Chance hath caſt thee panting on our Coaſt?
With ſtricteſt Truth let all thy Words agree,
Nor let me find a faithleſs Mouſe in thee.
If worthy Friendſhip, proffer'd Friendſhip take,
And entring view the pleaſurable Lake:
Range o'er my Palace, in my Bounty ſhare,
And glad return from hoſpitable Fare.
[3] This Silver Realm extends beneath my Sway,
And me, their Monarch, all its Frogs obey.
Great Phyſignathus I, from Peleus' Race,
Begot in fair Hydromeduſe' Embrace,
Where by the nuptial Bank that paints his Side,
The ſwift Eridanus delights to glide.
Thee too, thy Form, thy Strength, and Port proclain
A ſcepter'd King; a Son of Martial Fame;
Then trace thy Line, and aid my gueſſing Eyes.
Thus ceas'd the Frog, and thus the Mouſe replies.
Known to the Gods, the Men, the Birds that fly
Thro' wild Expanſes of the midway Sky,
My Name reſounds; and if unknown to thee,
The Soul of Great Pſycarpax lives in me.
Of brave Troxartas' Line, whoſe ſleeky Down
In Love compreſs'd Lychomile the brown.
My Mother ſhe, and Princeſs of the Plains
Where-e're her Father Pternotroctas reigns:
[4] Born where a Cabin lifts its airy Shed,
With Figs, with Nuts, with vary'd Dainties fed.
But ſince our Natures nought in common know,
From what Foundation can a Friendſhip grow?
Theſe curſing Waters o'er thy Palace roll;
But Man's high Food ſupports my Princely Soul.
In vain the circled Loaves attempt to lie
Conceal'd in Flaskets from my curious Eye,
In vain the Tripe that boaſts the whiteſt Hue,
In vain the gilded Bacon ſhuns my View,
In vain the Cheeſes, Oſspring of the Pale,
Or honey'd Cakes, which Gods themſelves regale.
And as in Arts I ſhine, in Arms I fight,
Mix'd with the braveſt, and unknown to Flight.
Tho' large to mine the humane Form appear,
Not Man himſelf can ſmite my Soul with Fear.
Sly to the Bed with ſilent Steps I go,
Attempt his Finger, or attack his Toe,
[5] And fix indented Wounds with dext'rous Skill,
Sleeping he feels, and only ſeems to feel.
Yet have we Foes which direful Dangers cauſe,
Grim Owls with Talons arm'd, and Cats with Claws,
And that falſe Trap, the Den of ſilent Fate,
Where Death his Ambuſh plants around the Bait;
All-dreaded theſe, and dreadful o'er the reſt
The potent Warriours of the tabby Veſt,
If to the dark we fly, the Dark they trace,
And rend our Heroes of the nibling Race.
But me, nor Stalks, nor watriſh Herbs delight,
Nor can the crimſon Radiſh charm my Sight,
The Lake-reſounding Frogs ſelected Fare,
Which not a Mouſe of any Taſt can bear.
As thus the downy Prince his Mind expreſt,
His Anſwer thus the croaking King addreſt.
Thy Words luxuriant on thy Dainties rove,
And, ſtranger, we can boaſt of bounteous Jove:
[6] We ſport in Water, or we dance on Land,
And born amphibious, Food from both command
But truſt thy ſelf where Wonders ask thy View,
And ſafely tempt thoſe Seas, I'll bear thee through:
Aſcend my Shoulders, firmly keep thy Seat,
And reach my marſhy Court, and feaſt in State.
He ſaid, and leant his Back; with nimble Bound
Leaps the light Mouſe, and claſps his Arms around
Then wond'ring floats, and ſees with glad Survey
The winding Banks diſſemble Ports at Sea.
But when aloft the curling Water rides,
And wets with azure Wave his downy Sides,
His Thoughts grow conſcious of approaching Woe,
His idle Tears with vain Repentance flow,
His Locks he rends, his trembling Feet he rears,
Thick beats his Heart with unaccuſtom'd Fears;
He ſighs, and chill'd with Danger, longs for Shore:
His Tail extended forms a fruitleſs Oar,
[7] Half-drench'd in liquid Death his Pray'rs he ſpake,
And thus bemoan'd him from the dreadful Lake.
So paſs'd Europa thro' the rapid Sea,
Trembling and fainting all the vent'rous Way;
With oary Feet the Bull triumphant rode,
And ſafe in Crete depos'd his lovely Load.
Ah ſafe at laſt! may thus the Frog ſupport
My trembling Limbs to reach his ample Court.
As thus he ſorrows, Death ambiguous grows,
Lo! from the deep a Water-Hydra roſe;
He rolls his ſanguin'd Eyes, his Boſom heaves,
And darts with active Rage along the Waves.
Confus'd, the Monarch ſees his hiſſing Foe,
And dives to ſhun the ſable Fates below.
Forgetful Frog! The Friend thy Shoulders bore,
Unskill'd in Swimming, floats remote from Shore.
He graſps with fruitleſs Hands to find Relief,
Supinely falls, and grinds his Teeth with Grief,
[8] Plunging he ſinks, and ſtruggling mounts again,
And ſinks, and ſtrives, but ſtrives with Fate in vain.
The weighty Moiſture clogs his hairy Veſt,
And thus the Prince his dying Rage expreſt.
Nor thou, that flings me flound' ring from thy Back,
As from hard Rocks rebounds the ſhatt'ring Wrack,
Nor thou ſhalt 'ſcape thy Due, perfidious King!
Purſu'd by Vengeance on the ſwifteſt Wing:
At Land thy Strength could never equal mine,
At Sea to conquer, and by Craft, was thine.
But Heav'n has Gods, and Gods have ſearching Eyes:
Ye Mice, ye Mice, my great Avengers riſe!
This ſaid, he ſighing gaſp'd, and gaſping dy'd.
His Death the young Lychopinax eſpy'd,
As on the flow'ry Brink he paſs'd the Day,
Bask'd in the Beams, and loyter'd Life away:
Loud ſhrieks the Mouſe, his Shrieks the Shores repeat;
The nibbling Nation learn their Heroe's Fate:
[9] Grief, diſmal Grief enſues; deep Murmurs ſound,
And ſhriller Fury fills the deafen'd Ground;
From Lodge to Lodge the ſacred Heralds run,
To fix their Council with the riſing Sun;
Where great Troxartas crown'd in Glory reigns,
And winds his length'ning Court beneath the Plains;
Pſycarpax Father, Father now no more!
For poor Pſycarpax lies remote from Shore;
Supine he lies! the ſilent Waters ſtand,
And no kind Billow wafts the Dead to Land!

HOMER'S BATTLE of the FROGS and MICE. BOOK II.

[10]
WHEN roſy-finger'd Morn had ting'd the Clouds.
Around their Monarch-Mouſe the Nation crouds
Slow roſe the Monarch, heav'd his anxious Breaſt,
And thus, the Council fill'd with Rage, addreſt.
For loſt Pſycarpax much my Soul endures,
'Tis mine the private Grief, the publick, yours.
Three warlike Sons adorn'd my nuptial Bed,
Three Sons, alas, before their Father dead!
Our Eldeſt periſh'd by the rav'ning Cat,
As near my Court the Prince unheedful ſate.
[11] Our next, an Engine fraught with Danger drew,
The Portal gap'd, the Bait was hung in View,
Dire Arts aſſiſt the Trap, the Fates decoy,
And Men unpitying kill'd my gallant Boy!
The laſt, his Country's Hope, his Parent's Pride,
Plung'd in the Lake by Phyſignathus, dy'd.
Rouſe all the War, my Friends! avenge the Deed,
And bleed that Monarch, and his Nation bleed.
His Words in ev'ry Breaſt inſpir'd Alarms,
And careful Mars ſupply'd their Hoſt with Arms.
In verdant Hulls deſpoil'd of all their Beans,
The buskin'd Warriours ſtalk'd along the Plains,
Quills aptly bound, their bracing Corſelet made,
Fac'd with the Plunder of a Cat they flay'd,
The Lamp's round Boſs affords their ample Shield,
Large Shells of Nuts their cov'ring Helmet yield;
And o'er the Region, with reflected Rays,
Tall Groves of Needles for their Lances blaze.
[12] Dreadful in Arms the marching Mice appear:
The wond'ring Frogs perceive the Tumult near,
Forſake the Waters, thick'ning form a Ring,
And ask, and hearken, whence the Noiſes ſpring;
When near the Croud, diſclos'd to publick View,
The valiant Chief Embaſichytros drew:
The ſacred Herald's Scepter grac'd his Hand,
And thus his Words expreſt his King's Command.
Ye Frogs! the Mice with Vengeance fir'd, advance,
And deckt in Armour ſhake the ſhining Lance;
Their hapleſs Prince by Phyſignathus ſlain,
Extends incumbent on the watry Plain.
Then arm your Hoſt, the doubtful Battle try;
Lead forth thoſe Frogs that have the Soul to die.
The Chief retires, the Crowd the Challenge hear,
And proudly-ſwelling, yet perplex'd appear,
Much they reſent, yet much their Monarch blame,
Who riſing, ſpoke to clear his tainted Fame.
[13]
O Friends, I never forc'd the Mouſe to Death,
Nor ſaw the Gaſpings of his lateſt Breath.
He, vain of Youth, our Art of Swimming try'd,
And vent'rous, in the Lake the Wanton dy'd.
To Vengeance now by falſe Appearance led,
They point their Anger at my guiltleſs Head.
But wage the riſing War by deep Device,
And turn its Fury on the crafty Mice.
Your King directs the Way; my Thoughts elate
With Hopes of Conqueſt, form Deſigns of Fate.
Where high the Banks their verdant Surface heave,
And the ſteep Sides confine the ſleeping Wave,
There, near the Margin, and in Armour bright,
Suſtain the firſt impetuous Shocks of Fight:
Then where the dancing Feather joins the Creſt,
Let each brave Frog his obvious Mouſe arreſt;
Each ſtrongly graſping, headlong plunge a Foe,
'Till countleſs Circles whirl the Lake below;
[14] Down ſink the Mice in yielding Waters drown'd;
Loud flaſh the Waters; ecchoing Shores reſound:
The Frogs triumphant tread the conquer'd Plain,
And raiſe their glorious Trophies of the ſlain.
He ſpake no more, his prudent Scheme imparts
Redoubling Ardour to the boldeſt Hearts.
Green was the Suit his arming Heroes choſe,
Around their Legs the Greaves of Mallows cloſe,
Green were the Beetes about theit Shoulders laid,
And green the Colewort, which the Target made.
Form'd of the vary'd Shells the Waters yield,
Their gloſſy Helmets gliſt'ned o'er the Field;
And tap'ring Sea-Reeds for the poliſh'd Spear,
With upright Order pierc'd the ambient Air.
Thus dreſs'd for War, they take th' appointed Height,
Poize the long Arms, and urge the promis'd Fight.
But now, where Jove's irradiate Spires ariſe,
With Stars ſurrounded in Aethereal Skies,
[15] (A Solemn Council call'd) the brazen Gates
Unbar; the Gods aſſume their golden Seats:
The Sire ſuperiour leans, and points to ſhow
What wond'rous Combats Mortals wage below:
How ſtrong, how large, the num'rous Heroes ſtride;
What Length of Lance they ſhake with warlike Pride:
What eager Fire, their rapid March reveals;
So the fierce Centaurs ravag'd o'er the Dales;
And ſo confirm'd, the daring Titans roſe,
Heap'd Hills on Hills, and bid the Gods be Foes.
This ſeen, the Pow'r his ſacred Viſage rears,
He caſts a pitying Smile on worldly Cares,
And asks what heav'nly Guardians take the Liſt,
Or who the Mice, or who the Frogs aſſiſt?
Then thus to Pallas. If my Daughter's Mind
Have join'd the Mice, why ſtays ſhe ſtill behind?
Drawn forth by ſav'ry Steams they wind their Way,
And ſure Attendance round thine Altar pay,
[16] Where while the Victims gratify their Taſt,
They ſport to pleaſe the Goddeſs of the Feaſt.
Thus ſpake the Ruler of the ſpacious Skies,
When thus, reſolv'd, the Blue-Ey'd Maid replies.
In vain, my Father! all their Dangers plead,
To ſuch, thy Pallas never grants her Aid.
My flow'ry Wreaths they petulantly ſpoil,
And rob my chryſtal Lamps of feeding Oil.
(Ills following Ills) but what afflicts me more,
My Veil, that idle Race profanely tore.
The Web was curious, wrought with Art divine;
Relentleſs Wretches! all the Work was mine.
Along the Loom the purple Warp I ſpread,
Caſt the light Shoot, and croſt the ſilver Thread;
In this their Teeth a thouſand Breaches tear,
The thouſand Breaches skilful Hands repair,
For which vile earthly Dunns thy Daughter grieve,
And Gods, that uſe no Coin, have none to give.
[17] And Learning's Goddeſs never leſs can owe,
Neglected Learning gets no Wealth below.
Nor let the Frogs to gain my Succour ſue,
Thoſe clam'rous Fools have loſt my Favour too.
For late, when all the Conflict ceaſt at Night,
When my ſtretch'd Sinews work'd with eager Fight.
When ſpent with glorious Toil, I left the Field,
And ſunk for Slumber on my ſwelling Shield,
Lo from the Deep, repelling ſweet Repoſe,
With noiſy Croakings half the Nation roſe:
Devoid of Reſt, with aking Brows I lay,
'Till Cocks proclaim'd the crimſon Dawn of Day.
Let all, like me, from either Hoſt forbear,
Nor tempt the flying Furies of the Spear.
Let heav'nly Blood (or what for Blood may flow)
Adorn the Conqueſt of a meaner Foe,
Who, wildly ruſhing, meet the wond'rous Odds,
Tho' Gods oppoſe, and brave the wounded Gods.
[18] O'er gilded Clouds reclin'd, the Danger view,
And be the Wars of Mortals Scenes for you.
So mov'd the blue-ey'd Queen, her Words perſuade,
Great Jove aſſented, and the reſt obey'd.

HOMER'S BATTLE of the FROGS and MICE. BOOK III.

[19]
NOW Front to Front the marching Armies ſhine,
Halte'er they meet, and form the length'ning Line
The Chiefs conſpicuous ſeen, and heard afar,
Give the loud Sign to looſe the ruſhing War;
Their dreadful Trumpets deep-mouth'd Hornets ſound
The ſounded Charge remurmurs o'er the Ground,
Ev'n Jove proclaims a Field of Horror nigh,
And rolls low Thunder thro' the troubled Sky.
Firſt to the Fight the large Hypſiboas flew,
And brave Lychenor with a Javelin ſlew,
[20] The luckleſs Warriour fill'd with gen'rous Flame,
Stood foremoſt glitt' ring in the Poſt of Fame.
When in his Liver ſtruck, the Jav'lin hung,
The Mouſe fell thund' ring, and the Target rung;
Prone to the Ground he ſinks his cloſing Eye,
And ſoil'd in Duſt his lovely Treſſes lie.
A Spear at Pelion Troglodytes caſt,
The miſſive Spear within the Boſom paſt;
Death's ſable Shades the fainting Frog ſurround,
And Life's red Tide runs ebbing from the Wound.
Embaſichytros felt Seutlaeus' Dart
Transfix, and quiver in his panting Heart;
But great Artophagus aveng'd the ſlain,
And big Seutlaeus tumbling loads the Plain,
And Polyphonus dies, a Frog renown'd,
For boaſtful Speech and Turbulence of Sound;
Deep thro' the Belly pierc'd, ſupine he lay,
And breath'd his Soul againſt the Face of Day.
[21] The ſtrong Lymnocharis, who view'd with Ire,
A Victor triumph, and a Friend expire;
And fiercely flung where Troglodytes fought,
With heaving Arms a rocky Fragment caught,
A Warrious vers'd in Arts, of ſure Retreat,
Yet Arts in vain elude impending Fate;
Full on his ſinewy Neck the Fragment fell,
And o'er his Eye-lids Clouds eternal dwell.
Lychenor (ſecond of the glorious Name)
Striding advanc'd, and took no wand' ring Aim;
Thro' all the Frog the ſhining Jav'lin flies,
And near the vanquiſh'd Mouſe the Victor dies;
The dreadful Stroke Crambophagus affrights,
Long bred to Banquets, leſs inur'd to Fights,
Heedleſs he runs, and ſtumbles o'er the Steep,
And wildly flound' ring flaſhes up the Deep;
Lychenor following with a downward Blow,
Reach'd in the Lake his unrecover'd Foe;
[22] Gaſping he rolls, a purple Stream of Blood
Diſtains the Surface of the Silver Flood;
Thro' the wide Wound the ruſhing Entrails throng,
And ſlow the breathleſs Carkaſs floats along.
Lymniſius good Tyroglyphus aſſails,
Prince of the Mice that haunt the flow'ry Vales,
Loſt to the milky Fares and rural Seat,
He came to periſh on the Bank of Fate.
The dread Pternoglyphus demands the Fight,
Which tender Calaminthlus ſhuns by Flight,
Drops the green Target, ſpringing quits the Foe,
Glides thro' the Lake, and ſafely dives below.
The dire Pternophagus divides his Way
Thro' breaking Ranks, and leads the dreadful Day.
No nibbling Prince excell'd in Fierceneſs more,
His Parents fed him on the ſavage Boar;
But where his Lance the Field with Blood imbru'd,
Swift as he mov'd Hydrocharis purſu'd,
[23] 'Till fall'n in Death he lies, a ſhatt' ring Stone
Sounds on the Neck, and cruſhes all the Bone,
His Blood pollutes the Verdure of the Plain,
And from his Noſtrils burſts the guſhing Brain.
Lycopinax with Borbocaetes ſights
A blameleſs Frog, whom humbler Life delights;
The fatal Jav'lin unrelenting flies,
And Darkneſs ſeals the gentle Croaker's Eyes.
Incens'd Praſſophagus with ſpritely Bound,
Bears Cniſſiodortes off the riſing Ground,
Then drags him o'er the Lake depriv'd of Breath,
And downward plunging, ſinks his Soul to Death.
But now the great Pſycarpax ſhines afar,
(Scarce he ſo great whoſe Loſs provok'd the War)
Swift to Revenge his fatal Jav'lin fled,
And thro' the Liver ſtruck Peluſius dead;
His freckled Corps before the Victor fell,
His Soul indignant ſought the Shades of Hell.
[24] This ſaw Pelohates, and from the Flood
Lifts with both Hands a monſt'rous Maſs of Mud,
The Cloud obſcene o'er all the Warrior flies,
Diſhonours his brown Face, and blots his Eyes.
Enrag'd, and wildly ſputtring, from the Shore
A Stone immenſe of Size the Warrior bore,
A Load for lab'ring Earth, whoſe Bulk to raiſe,
Asks ten degen'rate Mice of modern Days.
Full to the Leg arrives the cruſhing Wound,
The Frog ſupportleſs, wriths upon the Ground.
Thus fluſh'd, the Victor wars with matchleſs Force,
'Till loud Craugaſides arreſts his Courſe,
Hoarſe-croaking Threats precede, with fatal Speed
Deep thro' the Belly runs the pointed Reed,
Then ſtrongly tug'd, return'd imbru'd with Gore,
And on the Pile his reeking Entrails bore.
The lame Sitophagus oppreſs'd with Pain,
Creeps from the deſp'rate Dangers of the Plain.
[25] And where the Ditches riſing Weeds ſupply,
To ſpread their lowly Shades beneath the Sky,
There lurks the ſilent Mouſe reliev'd of Heat,
And ſafe imbower'd, avoids the Chance of Fate.
But here Troxartes, Phyſignathus there,
Whirl the dire Furies of the pointed Spear:
Then where the Foot around its Ankle plies,
Troxartes wounds, and Phyſignathus flies,
Halts to the Pool, a ſafe Retreat to find,
And trails a dangling Length of Leg behind.
The Mouſe ſtill urges, ſtill the Frog retires,
And half in Anguiſh of the Flight expires;
Then pious Ardor young Praſſaeus brings,
Betwixt the Fortunes of contending Kings:
Lank, harmleſs Frog! with Forces hardly grown,
He darts the Reed in Combats not his own,
Which faintly tinkling on Troxarters' Shield,
Hangs at the Point, and drops upon the Field.
[26] Now nobly tow'ring o'er the reſt appears
A gallant Prince that far tranſcends his Years,
Pride of his Sire, and Glory of his Houſe,
And more a Mars in Combat than a Mouſe:
His Action bold, robuſt his ample Frame,
And Meridarpax his reſounding Name.
The Warrior ſingled from the fighting Crowd,
Boaſts the dire Honours of his Arms aloud;
Then ſtrutting near the Lake, with Looks elate,
Threats all its Nations with approaching Fate.
And ſuch his Strength, the Silver Lakes around,
Might roll their Waters o'er unpeopled Ground.
But pow'rful Jove who ſhews no leſs his Grace
To Frogs that periſh, than to human Race,
Felt ſoft Compaſſion riſing in his Soul,
And ſhook his ſacred Head, that ſhook the Pole.
Then thus to all the gazing Pow'rs began,
The Sire of Gods, and Frogs, and Mouſe, and Man.
[27]
What Seas of Blood I view, what Worlds of ſlain,
An Iliad riſing from a Day's Campaign!
How fierce his Jav'lin o'er the trembling Lakes
The black-fur'd Hero Meridarpax ſhakes!
Unleſs ſome fav'ring Deity deſcend,
Soon will the Frogs loquacious Empire end.
Let dreadful Pallas wing'd with Pity fly,
And make her Aegis blaze before his Eye:
While Mars refulgent on his ratling Car,
Arreſts his raging Rival of the War.
He ceas'd, reclining with attentive Head,
When thus the glorious God of Combats ſaid.
Nor Pallas, Jove! tho' Pallas take the Field,
With all the Terrors of her hiſſing Shield,
Nor Mars himſelf, tho' Mars in Armour bright
Aſcend his Car, and wheel amidſt the Fight;
Nor theſe can drive the deſp'rate Mouſe afar,
And change the Fortunes of the bleeding War.
[28] Let all go forth, all Heav'n in Arms ariſe,
Or launch thy own red Thunder from the Skies.
Such ardent Bolts as flew that wond'rous Day,
When Heaps of Titans mix'd with Mountains lay,
When all the Giant-Race enormous fell,
And huge Enceladus was hurl'd to Hell.
'Twas thus th' Armipotent advis'd the Gods,
When from his Throne the Cloud-Compeller nods,
Deep length'ning Thunders run from Pole to Pole,
Olympus trembles as the Thunders roll.
Then ſwift he whirls the brandiſh'd Bolt around,
And headlong darts it at the diſtant Ground,
The Bolt diſcharg'd inwrap'd with Light'ning flies,
And rends its flaming Paſſage thro' the Skies,
Then Earth's Inhabitants the Niblers ſhake,
And Frogs, the Dwellers in the Waters, quake.
Yet ſtill the Mice advance their dread Deſign,
And the laſt Danger threats the croaking Line,
[29] 'Till Jove that inly mourn'd the Loſs they bore,
With ſtrange Aſſiſtants fill'd the frighted Shore.
Pour'd from the neighb'ring Strand, deform'd to View,
They march, a ſudden unexpected Crew,
Strong Sutes of Armor round their Bodies cloſe,
Which, like thick Anvils, blunt the Force of Blows;
In wheeling Marches turn'd oblique they go,
With harpy Claws their Limbs divide below,
Fell Sheers the Paſſage to their Mouth command,
From out the Fleſh the Bones by Nature ſtand,
Broad ſpread their Backs, their ſhining Shouldersriſe,
Unnumber'd Joints diſtort their lengthen'd Thighs,
With nervous Cords their Hands are firmly brac'd,
Their round black Eye-balls in their Boſom plac'd,
On eight long Feet the wond'rous Warriors tread,
And either End alike ſupplies a Head.
Theſe, mortal Wits to call the Crabs, agree;
The Gods have other Names for Things than we.
[30] Now where the Jointures from their Loins depend
The Heroes Tails with ſev'ring Graſps they rend.
Here, ſhort of Feet, depriv'd the Pow'r to fly,
There, without Hands upon the Field they lie.
Wrench'd from their Holds, and ſcatter'd all around,
The bended Lances heap the cumber'd Ground.
Helpleſs Amazement, Fear purſuing Fear,
And mad Confuſion thro' their Hoſt appear,
O'er the wild Waſt with headlong Flight they go,
Or creep conceal'd in vaulted Holes below.
But down Olympus to the Weſtern Seas,
Far-ſhooting Phoebus drove with fainter Rays,
And a whole War (ſo Jove ordain'd) begun,
Was fought, and ceas'd, in one revolving Sun.

Appendix A

Appendix A.1 ZOILUS'S REMARKS.

[]
Ingenium magni Livor detractat Amici,
Quiſquis & ex illo Zoile nomen Habes.

I MUST do my Reader the Juſtice, before I enter upon theſe NOTES of ZOILUS, to inform him, that I have not in any Author met this Work aſcrib'd to him by its Title, which has made me not mention it in the LIFE. But thus much in general appears, that he wrote ſeveral Things beſides his Cenſure on the Iliad, which, as it gives Ground for this Opinion, encourages me to offer an Account of the Treatiſe.

[] Being acquainted with a grave Gentleman who ſearches after Editions, purchaſes Manuſcripts, and collects Copies, I apply'd to him for ſome Editions of this Poem, which he readily oblig'd me with. But, added he, taking down a Paper, I doubt I ſhall diſcourage you from your Tranſlation, when I ſhow this Work, which is written upon the Original, by ZOILUS, the famous Adverſary of HOMER. ZOILUS! ſaid I with Surprize, I thought his Works had long ſince periſh'd. They have ſo, anſwer'd he, all, except this little Piece, which has a PREFACE annex'd to it accounting for its Preſervation. It ſeems, when he parted from Macedon, he left this behind him where he lodg'd, and where no one enter'd for a long Time, in Deteſtation of the Odiouſneſs of his Character, 'till Maevius arriving there in his Travels, and being deſirous to lie in the ſame Room, luckily found it, and brought it away with him. This the Author of the PREFACE imagins the Reaſon of Horace's wiſhing Maevius in the 10th Epode, ſuch a Shipwrack as HOMER deſcribes; as it were with an Eye to his having done ſomething diſadvantageous to that Poet. From Maevius, the Piece came into the Hand of Carbilius Pictor, (who, when he wrote againſt Virgil, call'd his Book, with a reſpectful Imitation of ZOILUS, the Aeneidomaſtix) and from him into the Hands of others who are unknown, becauſe the World apply'd to them no other Name than that of ZOILUS, in Order to ſink their own in [] Oblivion. Thus it ever found ſome learned Philologiſt or Critick, to keep it ſecret from the Rage of HOMER's Admirers; yet not ſo ſecret, but that it has ſtill been communicated among the Literati. I am of Opinion, that our Great Scaliger borrow'd it, to work him up when he writ ſo ſharply againſt Cardan; and perhaps Le Clerc too, when he prov'd Q. Curtius ignorant of every particular Branch of Learning.

This formal Account made me give Attention to what the Book contain'd; and I muſt acknowledge, that whether it be his, or the Work of ſome Grammarian, it appears to be writ in his Spirit. The open Profeſſion of Enmity to great Genius's, and the Fear of nothing ſo much as that he may not be able to find Faults enough, are ſuch Reſemblances of his ſtrongeſt Features, that any one might take it for his own Production. To give the World a Notion of this, I have made a Collection of ſome REMARKS, which moſt ſtruck me, during that ſhort Time in which I was allow'd to peruſe the Manuſcript.

Appendix A.2 THE REMARKS OF ZOILUS UPON Homer's Battle OF THE FROGS and MICE.

[]

VERSE I. TO fill my riſing Song.] As Protagoras the Sophiſt found Fault with the Beginning of the Iliad, for its ſpeaking to the Muſe rather with an abrupt Command, than a ſolemn Invocation, ſo I, ſays ZOILUS, do on the other Hand find Fault with him for uſing any Invocation at all before this Poem, or any ſuch Trifles as he is Author [] of. If he muſt aſe one, Protagoras is in the right; if not, I am: This I hold for true Criticiſm, notwithſtanding the Opinion of Ariſtotle againſt us. Nor let any one lay a Streſs on Ariſtotle in this Point; he alas! knows nothing of Poetry but what he has read in HOMER; his Rules are all extracted from him, or founded in him. In ſhort, HOMER'S Works are the Examples of Ariſtotle's Precepts; and Ariſtotle's Precepts the Methods HOMER wrought by. From hence it is to be concluded as the Opinion of this Critick, that whoever wou'd intirely deſtroy the Reputation of HOMER, muſt renounce the Authority of Ariſtotle before-hand. The Rules of Building may be of Service to us, it we deſign to judge of an Edifice, and diſcover what may be amiſs in it for the Advantage of future Artificers; but they are of no Uſe to thoſe who only intend to overthrow it utterly.

After the Word [Song,] in the firſt Line the Original adds, [What I have written in my Tablets.] Theſe Words, which are dropp'd in the Tranſlation as of no Conſequence, the Great ZOILUS has thought fit to expunge; aſſerting for a Reaſon, without backing it with farther Proof, That Tablets were not of ſo early Invention. Now, it muſt be granted, this Manner of proving by Affirmation is of an extraordinary Nature, but however it has its End with a Set of Readers for whom it is adapted. One Part of the World knows not with what Aſſurance another Part can expreſs itſelf. [] They imagine a reaſonable Creature will not have the Face to ſay any Thing which has not ſome Shadow of Reaſon to ſupport it; and run implicity into the Snare which is laid for good Nature, by theſe daring Authors of definitive Sentences upon bare Aſſertion.

VERSE 15. Whom Cats purſu'd.] The Greek Word here expreſly ſignifies a Cat: ZOILUS, whom Perizonius follows, affirms, It was Weezils which the Mouſe fled from; and then objects againſt its Probability. But it is common with one Sort of Criticks, to ſhew an Author means differently from what he really did, and then to prove, that the Meaning which they find out for him is good for nothing.

VERSE 25. If worthy Friendſhip.] In this Propoſal begins the Moral of the whole Piece, which is, that haſty, ill-founded, or unnatural Friendſhips and Leagues, will naturally end in War and Diſcord. But ZOILUS, who is here mightily concern'd to take off from HOMER all the Honour of having deſign'd a Moral, aſſerts on the other Hand, That the Poet's whole Intent was to make a Fable; that a Fable he has made, and one very idle and triffling; that many Things are aſcrib'd to HOMER, which poor HOMER never dream'd of; and he who finds them out rather ſhews his own Parts than diſcover his Author's Beauties. In this Opinion has he been follow'd by ſeveral of thoſe Criticks, who only dip into Authors when they have Occaſion to write againſt [] them. And yet even theſe ſhall ſpeak differently concerning the Deſign of Writers, if the Queſtion be of their own Performances; for to their own Works they write Prefaces, to diſplay the Grandneſs of the Moral, Regularity of the Scheme, Number and Brightneſs of the Figures, and a Thouſand other Excellencies, which if they did not tell, no one wou'd ever imagine. For others, they write Remarks, which tend to contract their Excellencies within the narrow Compaſs of their partial Apprehenſion. It were well if they cou'd allow ſuch to be as wiſe as themſelves, whom the World allows to be much wiſer: But their being naturally Friends to themſelves, and profeſſedly Adverſaries to ſome greater Genius, eaſily accounts for theſe different Manners of Speaking. I will not leave this Note, without giving you an Inſtance of its Practice in the Great Julius Scaliger: He has been free enough with HOMER in the Remarks he makes upon him; but when he ſpeaks of himſelf, I deſire my Reader wou'd take Notice of his Modeſty; I give his own Words, Lib. 3. Poet. Cap. 112. In Deum Patrem Hymnum cum ſcriberemus tanquam rerum omnium conditorem, ab orbis ipſius creatione ad nos noſtra (que) uſ (que) duximus.—In quo abduximus animum noſtrum a corporis carcere ad liberos campos contemplationis quae me in illum tranſformaret. Tum autem ſanctiſſimi Spiritus ineffabilis vigor ille tanto ardore celebratus eſt, ut cum leniſſimis numeris eſſet inchoatus Hymnus, repentino divini Ignis impetu conflagravit.

[] VERSE 53. The circled Loaves.] ZOILUS here finds Fault with the Mention of Loaves, Tripes, Bacon and Cheeſe, as Words below the Dignity of the Epick, as much, (ſays he) as it wou'd be to have opprobious Names given in it. By which Expreſſion we eaſily ſee, he hints at the Firſt Book of the Iliad. Now, we muſt conſider in Anſwer, that it is a Mouſe which is ſpoken of, that Eating is the moſt appearing Characteriſtick of that Creature, that theſe Foods are ſuch as pleaſe it moſt; and to have deſcrib'd particular Pleaſures for it in any other Way, would have been as incongruous, as to have deſcrib'd a haughty loud Anger without thoſe Names which it throws out in its Fierceneſs, and which raiſe it to its Pitch of Phrenzy. In the one Inſtance you ſtill ſee a Mouſe before you, however the Poet raiſes it to a Man; in the other you ſhall ſee a Man before you; however the Poet raiſes him to a Demi-God. But ſome call that low, which others call natural. Every Thing has two Handles, and the Critick who ſets himſelf to cenſure all he meets, is under an Obligation ſtill to lay hold on the worſt of them.

VERSE 75. But me, nor Stalks.] In this Place ZOILUS laughs at the Ridiculouſneſs of the Poet, who (according to his Repreſentation) makes a Prince refuſe an Invitation in Heroicks, becauſe he did not like the Meat he was invited to. And, that the Ridicule may appear in as ſtrong a Light to others as to himſelf, he puts as much of the Speech as concerns it into Burleſque Airs and [] Expreſſions. This is indeed a common Trick with Remarkers, which they either practice by Precedent from their Maſter ZOILUS, or are beholding for it to the ſame Turn of Temper. We acknowledge it a fine Piece of Satyr, when there is Folly in a Paſſage, to lay it open in the Way by which it naturally requires to be expos'd: Do this handſomely, and the Author is deſervedly a Jeſt. If, on the contrary, you dreſs a Paſſage which was not originally fooliſh, in the higheſt Humour of Ridicule, you only frame ſomething which the Author himſelf might laugh at, without being more nearly concern'd than another Reader.

VERSE 103. So paſs'd Europa.] This Simile makes ZOILUS, who ſets up for a profeſs'd Enemy of Fables, to exclaim violently. We had, ſays he, a Frog and a Mouſe hitherto, and now we get a Bull and a Princeſs to illuſtrate their Actions: When will there be an End of this Fabling-Folly and Poetry, which I value my ſelf for being unacquainted with? O great Polycrates, how happily haſt thou obſerv'd in thy Accuſation againſt Socrates, That whatever he was before, he deſerv'd his Poiſon when he began to make Verſes! Now, if the Queſtion be concerning HOMER'S good or bad Poetry, this is an unqualifying Speech, which affords his Friends juſt Grounds of Exception againſt the Critick. Wherefore, be it known to all preſent and future Cenſors, who have, or ſhall preſume to glory in an Ignorance of Poetry, and at the ſame Time take upon them to judge of Poets, that they are in all [] their Degrees for ever excluded the Poſt they would uſurp. In the firſt Place, they who know neither the Uſe, nor Practice of the Art; in the ſecond, they who know it but by Halves, who have Hearts inſenſible of the Beauties of Poetry, and are however able to find Fault by Rules; and, thirdly, they who, when they are capable of perceiving Beauties and pointing out Defects, are ſtill ſo ignorant in the Nature of their Buſineſs, as to imagine the Province of Criticiſm extends itſelf only on the Side of Diſpraiſe and Reprehenſion. How cou'd any one at this Rate be ſeen with his proper Ballance of Perfection and Error? or what were the beſt Performances in this Indulgence of ill Nature, but as Apartments hung with the Deformities of Humanity, done by ſome great Hand, which are the more to be abhorr'd, becauſe the Praiſe and Honour they receive, reſults from the Degree of Uneaſineſs, to which they put every Temper of common Goodneſs?

VERSE 130. Ye Mice, ye Mice.] The Ancients believ'd that Heroes were turn'd into Demi-Gods at their Death; and in general, that departing Souls have ſomething of a Sight into Futurity. It is either this Notion, or a Care which the Gods may take to abate the Pride of inſulting Adverſaries, which a Poet goes upon, when he makes his Leaders die foretelling the End of thoſe by whom they are ſlain. ZOILUS however is againſt this Paſſage. He ſays, That every Character ought to be ſtrictly kept; that a General ought not to invade the Character of a Prophet, nor a Prophet of a General. He [] is poſitive, That nothing ſhou'd be done by any one, without having been hinted at in ſome previous Account of him. And this he aſſerts, without any Allowance made either for a Change of States, or the Deſign of the Gods. To confirm this Obſervation, he ſtrengthens it with a Quotation out of his larger Work on the Iliads, where he has theſe Words upon the Death of Hector: How fooliſh is it in HOMER to make Hector (who thro' the whole Courſe of the Iliad had made Uſe of Helenus, to learn the Will of the Gods) become a Prophet juſt at his Death? Let every one be what he ought, without falling into thoſe Parts which others are to ſuſtain in a Poem. This he has ſaid, not diſtinguiſhing rightly between our natural Diſpoſitions and accidental Offices. And this he has ſaid again, not minding, that tho' it be taken from another Book, it is ſtill from the ſame Author. However, Vanity loves to gratify itſelf by the Repetition of what it eſteems to be written with Spirit, and even when we repeat it our ſelves, provided another hears us. Hence has he been follow'd by a Magiſterial Set of Men who quote themſelves, and ſwell their new Performances with what they admire in their former Treatiſes. This is a moſt extraordinary Knack of Arguing, whereby a Man can never want a Proof, if he be allow'd to become an Authority for his own Opinion.

VERSE 146. And no kind Billow.] How impertinent is this Caſe of Pity, ſays ZOILUS, to bemoan, that the Prince was not toſs'd towards Land: It is enough [] he loſt his Life, and there is an End of his Suffering where there is an End of his Feeling. To carry the Matter farther is juſt the ſame fooliſh Management as HOMER has ſhewn in his Iliads, which he ſpins out into forty Triffles beyond the Death of Hector. But the Critick muſt allow me to put the Readers in Mind, that Death was not the laſt Diſtreſs the Ancients believ'd was to be met upon Earth. The laſt was the remaining unbury'd, which had this Miſery annex'd, that while the Body was without its Funeral-Rites in this World, the Soul was ſuppos'd to be without Reſt in the next, which was the Caſe of the Mouſe before us. And accordingly the Ajax of Sophocles continues after the Death of its Heroe more than an Act, upon the Conteſt concerning his Burial. All this ZOILUS knew very well: But ZOILUS is not the only one, who diſputes for Victory rather than Truth. Theſe fooliſh Criticks write even Things they themſelves can anſwer, to ſhew how much they can write againſt an Author. They act unfairly, that they may be ſure to be ſharp enough; and triffle with the Reader, in order to be voluminous. It is needleſs to wiſh them the Return they deſerve: Their Diſregard to Candour is no ſooner diſcover'd, but they are for ever baniſh'd from the Eyes of Men of Senſe, and condemn'd to wander from Stall to Stall, for a temporary Refuge from that Oblivion which they can't eſcape.

BOOK II. VERSE 9. Our Eldeſt periſh'd.] ZOILUS has here taken the Recapitulation of thoſe Misfortunes which [] happen'd to the Royal Family, as an Impertinence that expatiates from the Subject; tho' indeed there ſeems nothing more proper to raiſe that Sort of Compaſſion, which was to inflame his Audience to War. But what appears extreamly pleaſant is, that at the ſame Time he condemns the Paſſage, he ſhou'd make Uſe of it as an Opportunity, to fall into an ample Digreſſion on the various Kinds of Mouſe-Traps, and diſplay that minute Learning which every Critick of his Sort is fond to ſhew himſelf Maſter of. This they imagine is tracing of Knowledge thro' its hidden Veins, and bringing Diſcoveries to Day-light, which Time had cover'd over. Indefatigable and uſeleſs Mortals! who value themſelves for Knowledge of no Conſequence, and think of gaining Applauſe by what the Reader is careful to paſs over unread. What did the Diſquiſition ſignify formerly, whether Ulyſſes's Son, or his Dog, was the elder? or how can the Account of a Veſture, or a Player's Maſque, deſerve that any ſhou'd write the Bulk of a Treatiſe, or others read it when it is written? A Vanity thus poorly ſupported, which neither affords Pleaſure nor Profit, is the unſubſtantial Amuſement of a Dream to our ſelves, and a provoking Occaſion of our Deriſion to others.

BOOK II. VERSE 23. Quills aptly bound—Fac'd with the Plunder of a Cat they flay'd.] This Paſſage is ſomething difficult in the Original, which gave ZOILUS the Opportunity of inventing an Expreſſion, which his Followers conceitedly uſe when any [] Thing appears dark to them. This, ſay they, let Phoebus explain; as if what exceeds their Capacity muſt of Neceſſity demand Oracular Interpretations, and an Interpoſal of the God of Wit and Learning. The Baſis of ſuch Arrogance is the Opinion they have of that Knowledge they aſcribe to themſelves. They take Criticiſm to be beyond every other Part of Learning, becauſe it gives Judgment upon Books written in every other Part. They think in Conſequence, that every Critick muſt be a greater Genius than any Author whom he cenſures; and therefore if they eſteem themſelves Criticks, they ſet enthron'd Infancy at the Head of Literature. Criticiſm indeed deſerves a noble Elogy, when it is enlarg'd by ſuch a comprehenſive Learning as Ariſtoile and Cicero were Maſters of; when it adorns its Precepts with the conſummate Exactneſs of Quintilian, or is exalted into the ſublime Sentiments of Longinus. But let not ſuch Men tell us they participate in the Glory of theſe great Men, and place themſelves next to Phoebus, who, like ZOILUS, entangle an Author in the Wrangles of Grammarians, or try him with a poſitive Air and barren Imagination, by the Set of Rules they have collected out of others.

BOOK II. VERSE 37. Ye Frogs, the Mice.] At this Speech of the Herald's, which recites the Cauſe of the War, ZOILUS is angry with the Author, for not finding out a Cauſe entirely juſt; for, ſays he, it appears not from his own Fable, that Phyſignathus invited the Prince with any malicious Intention to make him away. To this we anſwer, 1ſt. That it is [] not neceſſary in relating Facts to make every War have a juſt Beginning. 2dly, This doubtful Cauſe agrees better with the Moral, by ſhewing that ill-founded Leagues have Accidents to deſtroy them, even without the Intention of Parties. 3dly, There was all Appearance imaginable againſt the Frogs; and if we may be allow'd to retort on our Adverſary the Practice of his Poſterity, there is more Humanity in an Hoſtility proclaim'd upon the Appearance of Injuſtice done us, than in their Cuſtom of attacking the Works of others as ſoon as they come out, purely becauſe they are eſteem'd to be good. Their Performances, which cou'd derive no Merit from their own Names, are then ſold upon the Merit of their Antagoniſt: And if they are ſenſible of Fame, or even of Envy, they have the Mortification to remember, how much by this Means they become indebted to thoſe they injure.

BOOK II. VERSE 57. Where high the Banks.] This Project is not put in Practice during the following Battle, by Reaſon of the Fury of the Combatants: Yet the Mention of it is not impertinent in this Place, foraſmuch as the probable Face of Succeſs which it carries with it tended to animate the Frogs. ZOILUS however cannot be ſo ſatisfied; It were better, ſays he, to cut it intirely out; nor wou'd HOMER be the worſe if half of him were ſerv'd in the ſame Manner; ſo, continues he, they will find it, whoever in any Country ſhall hereafter undertake ſo odd a Task, as that of Tranſlating him. [] Thus Envy finds Words to put in the Mouth of Ignorance; and the Time will come, when Ignorance ſhall repeat what Envy has pronounced ſo raſhly.

BOOK II. VERSE 77. And tap'ring Sea-Reed.] If we here take the Reed for that of our own Growth, it is no Spear to match the long Sort of Needles with which the Mice had arm'd themſelves; but the Cane, which is rather intended, has its Splinters ſtiff and ſharp, to anſwer all the Uſes of a Spear in Battle. Nor is it here to be lightly paſt over, ſince ZOILUS moves a Queſtion upon it, that the Poet cou'd not chooſe a more proper Weapon for the Frogs, than that which they chooſe for themſelves in a defenſive War they maintain with the Serpents of Nile. They have this Stratagem, ſays Aelian, to protect themſelves; they ſwim with Pieces of Cane acroſs their Mouths, of too great a Length for the Breadth of the Serpents Threats; by which Means they are preſerv'd from being ſwallow'd by them. This is a Quotation ſo much to the Point, that I ought to have uſher'd in my Author with more Pomp to dazzle the Reader. ZOILUS and his Followers, who ſeldom praiſe any Man, are however careful to do it for their own Sakes, if at any Time they get an Author of their Opinion: Tho' indeed it muſt be allow'd, they ſtill have a Drawback in their Manner of Praiſe, and rather chooſe to drop the Name of their Man, or darkly hint him in a Periphraſis, than to have it appear that they have directly aſſiſted the perpetuating of any [] one's Memory. Thus, if a Dutch Critick were to introduce for Example Martial, he wou'd, inſtead of naming him, ſay, Ingenioſus ille Epigrammaticus Bilbilicus. Or, if one of our own were to quote from among ourſelves, he wou'd tell us how it has been remark'd in the Works of a learned Writer, to whom the World is oblig'd for many excellent Productions, &c. All which Proceeding is like boaſting of our great Friends, when it is to do our ſelves an Honour, or the Shift of dreſſing up one who might otherwiſe be diſregarded, to make him paſs upon the World for a reſponſible Voucher to our own Aſſertions.

BOOK II. VERSE 81. But now where Jove's.] At this fine Epiſode, in which the Gods are introduced, ZOILUS has no Patience left him to remark; but runs ſome Lines with a long String of ſuch Expreſſions as Triffler, Fabler, Lyar, fooliſh, impious, all which he laviſhly heaps upon the Poet. From this Knack of calling Names, joyn'd with the ſeveral Arts of finding Fault, it is to be ſuſpected, that our ZOILUS'S might make very able Libellers, and dangerous Men to the Government, if they did not rather turn themſelves to be ridiculous Cenſors: For which Reaſon I cannot but reckon the State oblig'd to Men of Wit; and under a Kind of Debt in Gratitude, when they take off ſo much Spleen, Turbulency, and Ill-nature, as might otherwiſe ſpend it ſelf to the Detriment of the Publick.

BOOK II. VERSE 98. If my Daughter's Mind.] This Speech, which Jupiter ſpeaks to Pallas with a pleaſant [] Kind of Air, ZOILUS takes gravely to Pieces; and affirms, It is below Jupiter's Wiſdom, and only agreeable with HOMER'S Folly, that he ſhou'd borrow a Reaſon for her aſſiſting the Mice from their Attendance in the Temple, when they waited to prey upon thoſe Things which were ſacred to her. But the Air of the Speech rendering a grave Anſwer unneceſſary; I ſhall only offer ZOILUS an Obſervation in Return for his. There are upon the Stone that is carv'd for the Apotheoſis of HOMER, Figures of Mice by his Footſtool, which, according to Cuperus, its Interpreters, ſome have taken to ſignify this Poem; and others thoſe Criticks, who tear or vilify the Works of great Men. Now, if ſuch can be compar'd to Mice, let the Words of ZOILUS be brought home to himſelf and his Followers for their Mortification: That no one ought to think of meriting in the State of Learning only by debaſing the beſt Performances, and as it were preying upon thoſe Things which ſhou'd be ſacred in it.

BOOK II. VERSE 105. In vain my Father.] The Speech of Pallas is diſlik'd by ZOILUS, becauſe it makes the Goddeſs carry a Reſentment againſt ſuch inconſiderable Creatures; tho' he ought to eſteem them otherwiſe when they repreſent the Perſons and Actions of Men, and teach us how the Gods diſregard thoſe in their Adverſities who provoke them in Proſperity. But, if we conſider Pallas as the Patroneſs of Learning, we may by an allegorical Application of the Mice and Frogs, find in this Speech two Sorts of Enemies to Learning; they [] who are maliciouſly miſchievous, as the Mice; and they who are turbulent through Oſtentation, as the Frogs. The firſt are Enemies to Excellency upon Principle; the ſecond accidentally by the Error of Self-Love, which does not quarrel with the Excellence itſelf, but only with thoſe People who get more Praiſe than themſelves by it. Thus, tho' they have not the ſame Perverſneſs with the others, they are however drawn into the ſame Practices, while they ruin Reputations, leſt they ſhou'd not ſeem to be learn'd; as ſome Women turn Proſtitutes, leſt they ſhou'd not be thought handſome enough to have Admirers.

BOOK III. VERSE 5. The dreadful Trumpets.] Upon the reading of this, ZOILUS becomes full of Diſcoveries. He recollects, that HOMER makes his Greeks come to Battle with Silence, and his Trojans with Shouts, from whence he diſcovers, that he knew nothing of Trumpets. Again, he ſees, that the Hornet is made a Trumpeter to the Battle, and hence he diſcovers, that the Line muſt not be HOMER'S. Now had he drawn his Conſequences fairly, he cou'd only have found by the one, that Trumpets were not in uſe at the taking of Troy; and by the other, that the Battle of Frogs and Mice was laid by the Poet for a later Scene of Action than that of the Iliad. But the Boaſt of Diſcoveries accompanies the Affectation of Knowledge; and the Affectation of Knowledge is taken up with a Deſign to gain a Command over the Opinions of others. It is too heavy a Task for ſome Criticks to ſway our Judgments by rational Inferences; a pompous [] Pretence muſt occaſion Admiration, the Eyes of Mankind muſt be obſcur'd by a Glare of Pedantry, that they may conſent to be led blindfold, and permit that an Opinion ſhou'd be dictated to them without demanding that they may be reaſon'd into it.

BOOK III. VERSE 24. Big Seutlaeus Tumbling.] ZOILUS has happen'd to bruſh the Duſt of ſome old Manuſcript, in which the Line that kills Seutlaeus is wanting. And for this cauſe he fixes a general Concluſion, that there is no Dependance upon any thing which is handed down for HOMER'S, ſo as to allow it Praiſe; ſince the different Copies vary amongſt themſelves. But is it fair in ZOILUS, or any of his Followers, to oppoſe one Copy to a Thouſand? and are they impartial who wou'd paſs this upon us for an honeſt Ballance of Evidence? When there is ſuch an Inequality on each Side, is it not more than probable that the Number carry the Author's Senſe in them, and the ſingle one its Tranſcribers Errors? It is Folly or Madneſs of Paſſion to be thus given over to Partiality and Prejudices. Men may flouriſh as much as they pleaſe concerning the Value of a new found Edition, in order to byaſs the World to particular Parts of it; but in a Matter eaſily decided by common Senſe, it will ſtill continue of its own Opinion.

BOOK III. VERSE 69. With Borbocaetes fights.] Through the Grammatical Part of ZOILUS'S Work he frequently rails at HOMER for his Dialects. Theſe, ſays he in one place, the Poet made uſe of becauſe he could not write pure Greek; and in another, [] they ſtrangely contributed to his Fame, by making ſeveral Cities who obſerv'd ſomething of their own in his mix'd Language, contend for his being one of their Natives. Now ſince I have here practis'd a Licenſe in Imitation of his, by ſhort'ning the Word Borbocaetes a whole Syllable, it ſeems a good Opportunity to ſpeak for him where I defend myſelf. Remember then, that any great Genius who introduces Poetry into a Language, has a Power to poliſh it, and of all the Manners of ſpeaking then in uſe, to ſettle that for Poetical which he judges moſt adapted to the Art. Take Notice too, that HOMER has not only done this for Neceſſity but for Ornament, ſince he uſes various Dialects to humour his Senſe with Sounds which are expreſſive of it. Thus much in Behalf of my Author to anſwer ZOILUS: As for myſelf, who deal with his Followers, I muſt argue from Neceſſity, that the Word was ſtubborn and wou'd not ply to the Quantities of an Engliſh Verſe, and therefore I alter'd it by the Dialect we call Poetical, which makes my Line ſo much ſmoother, that I am ready to cry with their Brother Lipſius, when he turn'd an O into an I, Vel ego me amo, vel me amavit Phaebus quando hoc correxi. To this let me add a Recrimination upon ſome of them: As firſt, ſuch as chooſe Words written after the Manner of thoſe who preceded the pureſt Age of a Language, without the Neceſſity I have pleaded, as regundi for regendi, perduit for perdidit, which Reſtoration of obſolete Words deſerves to be call'd a Critical Licenſe or Dialect. 2dly, Thoſe who pretending [] to Verſe without an Ear, uſe the Poetical Dialect of Abbreviation, ſo that the Lines ſhall run the rougher for it. And, 3dly, Thoſe who preſume by their Critical Licenſes to alter the Spellings of Words; an Affectation which deſtroys the Etymology of a Language, and being carry'd on by private Hands for Fancy or Faſhion, wou'd be a Thing we ſhou'd never have an End.

BOOK III. VERSE 149. Nor Pallas, Jove.] I cannot, ſays ZOILUS, reflect upon this Speech of Mars, where a Mouſe is oppos'd to the God of War, the Goddeſs of Valour, the Thunder of Jupiter, and all the Gods at once, but I rejoyce to think that Pythagoras ſaw HOMER'S Soul in Hell hanging on a Tree and ſurrounded with Serpents for what he ſaid of the Gods. Thus he who hates Fables anſwers one with another, and can rejoyce in them when they flatter his Envy. He appears at the Head of his Squadron of Criticks, in the full Spirit of one utterly devoted to a Party; with whom Truth is a Lye, or as bad as a Lye, when it makes againſt him; and falſe Quotations, paſs for Truth, or as good as Truth, when they are neceſſary to a Cauſe.

BOOK III. VERSE 203. And a wholeWar.] Here, ſays ZOILUS, is an End of a very fooliſh Poem, of which by this Time I have effectually convinc'd the World, and ſilenc'd all ſuch for the future, who, like HOMER, write Fables to which others find Morals, Characters whoſe Juſtneſs is queſtion'd, unneceſſary Digreſſions, and impious Epiſodes. But what Aſſurance can ſuch as ZOILUS have, that the World will ever be convinc'd againſt an eſtabliſh'd [] Reputation, by ſuch People whoſe Faults in writing are ſo very notorious? who judge againſt Rules, affirm without Reaſons, and cenſure without Manners? who quote themſelves for a Support of their Opinions, found their Pride upon a Learning in Trifles, and their Superiority upon the Claims they magiſterially make? who write of Beauties in a harſh Style, judge of Excellency with a Lowneſs of Spirit, and purſue their Deſire to decry it with every Artifice of Envy? There is no Diſgrace in being cenſur'd, where there is no Credit to be favour'd. But, on the contrary, Envy gives a Teſtimony of ſome Perfection in another; and one who is attack'd by many, is like a Heroe whom his Enemies acknowledge for ſuch, when they point all the Spears of a Battle againſt him. In ſhort, an Author who writes for every Age, may even erect himſelf a Monument of thoſe Stones which Envy throws at him: While the Critick who writes againſt him can have no Fame becauſe he has no Succeſs; or if he fancies he may ſucceed, he ſhou'd remember, that by the Nature of his Undertaking he wou'd but undermine his own Foundation; for he is to ſink of Courſe when the Book which he writes againſt, and for which alone he is read, is loſt in Diſrepute or Oblivion.

FINIS.

Appendix B BOOKS Printed for BERNARD LINTOT, between the Temple-Gates.

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