HOMER'S BATTLE OF THE FROGS and MICE.
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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.
LONDON, Printed for BERNARD LINTOT, between the Temple-Gates. MDCCXVII.
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 Con⯑ſtantinopolitan 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 Blind⯑neſs. 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 Bac⯑tria, 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 Pro⯑poſal 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, Tranſ⯑lated 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 in⯑deed 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 Ig⯑norance of others, may bring a temporary Advan⯑tage, 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 ima⯑gine 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 Incon⯑veniences? What Tranſpoſitions is Milton forc'd to, as an Equivalent for Want of Rhime, in the Poetry of a Language which depends upon a na⯑tural 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 (how⯑ever 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 Ridi⯑cule. Let the French, whoſe Language is not co⯑pious, 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 Harſh⯑neſs our Conſonants and Monyſyllables occaſion.
After this, I demanded what Air he would ap⯑pear 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 im⯑poſſible 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 ex⯑preſs'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 Com⯑pliment 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 Com⯑ments 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 Bar⯑gain 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 Sub⯑ject (however in its Nature frivolous, or ridicu⯑lous) 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 Ex⯑ploits 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 ma⯑king 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 hu⯑mane 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 Li⯑brary, 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.
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, Ly⯑copinax, and Crambophagus, to ſubſtitute Bluff⯑cheek, Lickdiſh, and Cabbage-Eater, in their Pla⯑ces. 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 Cha⯑racter extracted out of their Names; as in Po⯑lyphonus, Pternophagus, &c. that the Reader may not want ſome Light of their Humour in the Ori⯑ginal.
But what gave me a greater Difficulty was, to know how I ſhou'd follow the Poet, when he inſer⯑ted Pieces of Lines from his Iliad, and ſtruck out a Sprightlineſs by their new Application. To ſup⯑ply 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 re⯑ſemble 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 Tranſ⯑lation, 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 Pre⯑ſumption, 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 Sub⯑ject 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.
THEY who have diſcours'd concerning the Nature and Extent of Criticiſm, take Notice, That Editions of Authors, the Interpreta⯑tions 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 di⯑rects 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 natu⯑ral and perſpicuous Manners of Thought and Ex⯑preſſion, 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 Under⯑taking, 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 ob⯑ſcure Diligence, and a certain Dryneſs of Under⯑ſtanding, incapable of comprehending a figurative Stile, or being mov'd by the Beauties of Imagi⯑nation; and at other Times by ſuch, whoſe na⯑tural 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 aban⯑don'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 en⯑vious Action. I imagine it may be no ungrate⯑ful 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 Thra⯑cian Slave, which the World apply'd to him, be not meerly an Expreſſion of Contempt, it proves him of mean Extraction. He was a Diſ⯑ciple of one Polycrates a Sophiſt, who had diſtin⯑guiſh'd himſelf by writing againſt the great Names of the Ages before him; and who, when he is men⯑tion'd as his Maſter, is ſaid to be particularly fa⯑mous for a bitter Accuſation or Invective againſt the Memory of Socrates. In this Manner is ZOI⯑LUS 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 Com⯑plexion 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 Magi⯑ſterial 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 Readi⯑neſs 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 Paſ⯑ſion 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 ex⯑travagant 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 lear⯑ned 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 writ⯑ten 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 Affecta⯑tion, 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 ſuffi⯑cient Cauſe of Enmity, ſo to have that Reputa⯑tion univerſal, was what wrought his Frenzy to its wildeſt Degree; for which Reaſon it was HO⯑MER 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, in⯑vented for himſelf by Way of Excellency, and thus inſerted after the Manner of the Ancients.
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 Quo⯑tations, which happen to be preſerv'd by the Com⯑mentators 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 Repreſenta⯑tion 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 won⯑derfully well accompliſh'd, Macedon began to be eſteem'd a Stage too narrow for his Glory; and Aegypt, which had then taken Learning in⯑to its Patronage, the proper Place where it ought to diffuſe its Beams, to the Surprize of all whom he wou'd perſwade to reckon them⯑ſelves hitherto in the Dark, and under the Pre⯑judices 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 Aſ⯑ſembly; 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 Pre⯑paration 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 de⯑ſign'd to engage at) in a Kind of Flouriſh before⯑hand: Others were looking on to amuſe them⯑ſelves; 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 Atten⯑tion 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 con⯑ſidering 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 ſui⯑table to the Place, or knew that he had fall'n as well upon the Games themſelves, as upon HO⯑MER 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 there⯑fore only furniſh'd an impertinent Epiſode: that the Fall of the Leſſer Ajax in Cow-dung, the Squabble of the Chariot-Race, and other Acci⯑dents 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 HO⯑MER, 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, ap⯑pear'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 Cri⯑tick expir'd. But we following the more nu⯑merous 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 Pto⯑lomy 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 Ge⯑nius 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 fu⯑ture 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 ad⯑dreſs'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 Deſcrip⯑tion. ‘They (ſays ſhe) in the Chaplets of wild Sorrel, are my Writers of Proſe, who erect Scan⯑dal into Criticiſm: They who wear the wither'd Bay with it, are ſuch who write Po⯑ems, 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 Oppo⯑ſition. 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 Me⯑mory devolves. My Darling, the Fates have de⯑creed 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 Vi⯑ſion forſook him.
It was with ſome Confuſion, that he lay muſing a while upon what he had ſeen; but re⯑flecting, that the Goddeſs had giv'n him no An⯑ſwer concerning his Succeſs in Aegypt, he ſtrength⯑en'd his Heart in his ancient Self-Love and En⯑mity 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 Opi⯑nion, he told it at his Departure to the Prieſt, who admiring the extraordinary Relation, regi⯑ſtred 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 im⯑mediately 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 de⯑manded the firſt Prize for a Perſon whoſe baſh⯑ful 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 re⯑citing. 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 ridicu⯑lous in every thing, went near to finiſh his Audi⯑ence. 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 Ex⯑travagance which cou'd not demand their Gra⯑vity; and the People taking a Licenſe from the Pre⯑cedent, hooted him away with Obloquy and In⯑dignation. Thus Zoilus fail'd at his firſt Ap⯑pearance, 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 Pen⯑ſion. This the King read, but return'd no An⯑ſwer: So great was the Scorn he conceiv'd againſt him. But ZOILUS ſtill undauntedly renew'd his Petitions, 'till Ptolomy, being weary of his Per⯑ſecution, 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-na⯑tur'd, yet quick to revenge an Injury; not wear⯑ing 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 Pe⯑titions of ZOILUS tranſvers'd; new Petitions drawn up for him; Catalogues of his Merits, ſuppos'd to be collected by himſelf; his Com⯑plaints 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 re⯑tain'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 al⯑low'd him to have an artful habitual Knack of Ver⯑ſifying. 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 Chil⯑dren; which was once ſo unhappily return'd up⯑on 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 ſplen⯑did Temple which Ptolomy built in Honour of HOMER, was to be open'd with a ſolemn Mag⯑nificence: 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 Vo⯑lumn, 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 con⯑feſs 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 Let⯑ters, ZOILUS the HOMERO-MASTIX; and all the reſt of it was ſcrawl'd with various Monſters of that River, as Emblems of thoſe Pro⯑ductions 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 Acclama⯑tions 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 what⯑ever cou'd torment him, except the Knowledge of his Unworthineſs) he flung himſelf aboard the firſt Ship which left that Country. As it hap⯑pen'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 Mi⯑ſery 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 Rea⯑ſon, 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 Par⯑ticularitieswhich the Smyrneans glory to have recor⯑ded 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 vi⯑olently 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 occa⯑ſioned 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 Magi⯑ſtrates, 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 Deſecra⯑tions; and order'd, that their City ſhou'd be pu⯑rify'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 Compo⯑ſitions 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 Conſe⯑quences 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 bar⯑ren 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 uni⯑verſally 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 Puniſh⯑ment 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.
[]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 men⯑tion 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 Tranſ⯑lation, when I ſhow this Work, which is written upon the Original, by ZOILUS, the famous Ad⯑verſary of HOMER. ZOILUS! ſaid I with Sur⯑prize, 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 ac⯑counting 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 Ho⯑race's wiſhing Maevius in the 10th Epode, ſuch a Ship⯑wrack as HOMER deſcribes; as it were with an Eye to his having done ſomething diſadvan⯑tageous 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 ap⯑ply'd to them no other Name than that of ZOILUS, in Order to ſink their own in [] Oblivion. Thus it ever found ſome learned Phi⯑lologiſt 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 acknow⯑ledge, 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 Pro⯑tagoras the Sophiſt found Fault with the Beginning of the Iliad, for its ſpeaking to the Muſe ra⯑ther with an abrupt Command, than a ſolemn Invoca⯑tion, ſo I, ſays ZOILUS, do on the other Hand find Fault with him for uſing any Invocation at all be⯑fore 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, not⯑withſtanding 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 extrac⯑ted from him, or founded in him. In ſhort, HO⯑MER'S Works are the Examples of Ariſtotle's Pre⯑cepts; and Ariſtotle's Precepts the Methods HO⯑MER wrought by. From hence it is to be con⯑cluded as the Opinion of this Critick, that who⯑ever wou'd intirely deſtroy the Reputation of HOMER, muſt renounce the Authority of Ari⯑ſtotle 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 Tranſla⯑tion as of no Conſequence, the Great ZOILUS has thought fit to expunge; aſſerting for a Reaſon, without backing it with farther Proof, That Ta⯑blets were not of ſo early Invention. Now, it muſt be granted, this Manner of proving by Affirma⯑tion 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 Sen⯑tences upon bare Aſſertion.
VERSE 15. Whom Cats purſu'd.] The Greek Word here expreſly ſignifies a Cat: ZOILUS, whom Peri⯑zonius follows, affirms, It was Weezils which the Mouſe fled from; and then objects againſt its Pro⯑bability. 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 Pro⯑poſal 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 HO⯑MER all the Honour of having deſign'd a Mo⯑ral, 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 ra⯑ther 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 Grand⯑neſs 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 con⯑tract 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 ſcribe⯑remus 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 tranſ⯑formaret. Tum autem ſanctiſſimi Spiritus ineffabilis vigor ille tanto ardore celebratus eſt, ut cum leniſſi⯑mis 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 ea⯑ſily 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 Fierce⯑neſs, and which raiſe it to its Pitch of Phren⯑zy. 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 Obli⯑gation ſtill to lay hold on the worſt of them.
VERSE 75. But me, nor Stalks.] In this Place ZOI⯑LUS laughs at the Ridiculouſneſs of the Poet, who (ac⯑cording to his Repreſentation) makes a Prince re⯑fuſe 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 be⯑holding 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, with⯑out 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 con⯑cerning HOMER'S good or bad Poetry, this is an unqualifying Speech, which affords his Friends juſt Grounds of Exception againſt the Critick. Where⯑fore, be it known to all preſent and future Cen⯑ſors, 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 per⯑ceiving 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 Indul⯑gence 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, re⯑ſults 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 Cha⯑racter 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 Ob⯑ſervation, 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 be⯑tween our natural Diſpoſitions and accidental Offices. And this he has ſaid again, not mind⯑ing, 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, pro⯑vided another hears us. Hence has he been fol⯑low'd by a Magiſterial Set of Men who quote themſelves, and ſwell their new Performances with what they admire in their former Trea⯑tiſes. 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 Mat⯑ter 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 Rea⯑ders 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 Com⯑paſſion, 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 Oppor⯑tunity, to fall into an ample Digreſſion on the va⯑rious Kinds of Mouſe-Traps, and diſplay that mi⯑nute Learning which every Critick of his Sort is fond to ſhew himſelf Maſter of. This they ima⯑gine 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 Know⯑ledge 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 Ve⯑ſture, 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 ZOI⯑LUS the Opportunity of inventing an Expreſſion, which his Followers conceitedly uſe when any [] Thing appears dark to them. This, ſay they, let Phoe⯑bus 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 them⯑ſelves 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 compre⯑henſive 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 ap⯑pears not from his own Fable, that Phyſignathus invi⯑ted 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 ſhew⯑ing that ill-founded Leagues have Accidents to deſtroy them, even without the Intention of Par⯑ties. 3dly, There was all Appearance imagi⯑nable againſt the Frogs; and if we may be al⯑low'd to retort on our Adverſary the Practice of his Poſterity, there is more Humanity in an Hoſtility proclaim'd upon the Appearance of In⯑juſtice done us, than in their Cuſtom of at⯑tacking 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 Igno⯑rance 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 Wea⯑pon for the Frogs, than that which they chooſe for themſelves in a defenſive War they maintain with the Serpents of Nile. They have this Stra⯑tagem, 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 pre⯑ſerv'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 Follow⯑ers, 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 Draw⯑back 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 Epigrammati⯑cus 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 lear⯑ned 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 diſ⯑regarded, 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 Ex⯑preſſions 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 ſuſ⯑pected, that our ZOILUS'S might make very able Libellers, and dangerous Men to the Go⯑vernment, 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 Grati⯑tude, when they take off ſo much Spleen, Tur⯑bulency, 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 agree⯑able with HOMER'S Folly, that he ſhou'd borrow a Reaſon for her aſſiſting the Mice from their Atten⯑dance 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 An⯑ſwer 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 in⯑conſiderable Creatures; tho' he ought to eſteem them otherwiſe when they repreſent the Perſons and Ac⯑tions of Men, and teach us how the Gods diſre⯑gard 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 Diſcove⯑ries. 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 Hor⯑net 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 accom⯑panies the Affectation of Knowledge; and the Af⯑fectation 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 in⯑to 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 them⯑ſelves. 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 Au⯑thor's Senſe in them, and the ſingle one its Tran⯑ſcribers 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 Borbo⯑caetes a whole Syllable, it ſeems a good Opportuni⯑ty to ſpeak for him where I defend myſelf. Re⯑member then, that any great Genius who introduces Poetry into a Language, has a Power to poliſh it, and of all the Manners of ſpeak⯑ing then in uſe, to ſettle that for Poetical which he judges moſt adapted to the Art. Take No⯑tice 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 Ne⯑ceſſity, 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 Dia⯑lect 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 de⯑ſtroys 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 ut⯑terly 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, un⯑neceſſary 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 with⯑out Manners? who quote themſelves for a Sup⯑port 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 De⯑ſire 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 ſuc⯑ceed, 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.