ΟΜΗΡΟΣ
THE ILIAD OF HOMER.
Translated by Mr.
POPE.
Te sequor, O Graiae gentis Decus! inque tuis nunc
Fixa pedum pono pressis vestigia signis:
Non ita certandi cupidus, quàm propter Amorem,
Quòd Te imitari aveo—
LUCRET.
LONDON:
Printed by W. BOWYER, for BERNARD LINTOTT between the
Temple-Gates,
1715.
PREFACE.
HOMER is universally allow'd to have had the greatest Invention of any Writer whatever. The Praise of Judgment
Virgil
has justly contested with him, and others may have their Pretensions as to particular Excellencies; but his Invention remains yet unrival'd. Nor is it a Wonder if he has ever been acknowledg'd the greatest of Poets, who most excell'd in That which is the very Foundation of Poetry. It is the Invention that in different degrees distinguishes all great Genius's: The utmost Stretch of human Study, Learning, and Industry, which masters every thing besides, can never attain to this. It furnishes Art with all her Materials, and without it Judgment itself can at best but
steal wisely:
For Art is only like a prudent Steward that lives on managing the Riches of Nature. Whatever Praises may be given to Works of Judgment, there is not even a single Beauty in them but is owing to the Invention: As in the most regular Gardens, however Art may carry the greatest Appearance, there is not a Plant or Flower but is the Gift of Nature. The first can only reduce the Beauties of the latter into a more obvious Figure, which the common Eye may better take in, and is therefore more entertain'd with. And perhaps the reason why most Criticks are inclin'd to prefer a judicious and methodical Genius to a great and fruitful one, is, because they find it easier for themselves to pursue their Observations through an uniform and bounded Walk of Art, than to comprehend the vast and various Extent of Nature.
Our Author's Work is a wild Paradise, where if we cannot see all the Beauties so distinctly as in an order'd Garden, it is only because the Number of them is infinitely greater. 'Tis like a copious Nursery which contains the Seeds and first Productions of every kind, out of which those who follow'd him have but selected some particular Plants, each according to his Fancy, to cultivate and beautify. If some things are too luxuriant, it is owing to the Richness of the Soil; and if others are not arriv'd to Perfection or Maturity, it is only because they are over-run and opprest by those of a stronger Nature.
It is to the Strength of this amazing Invention we are to attribute that unequal'd Fire and Rapture, which is so forcible in
Homer,
that no Man of a true Poetical Spirit is Master of himself while he reads him. What he writes is of the most animated Nature imaginable; every thing moves, every thing lives, and is put in Action. If a Council be call'd, or a Battel fought, you are not coldly inform'd of what was said or done as from a third Person; the Reader is hurry'd out of himself by the Force of the Poet's Imagination, and turns in one place to a Hearer, in another to a Spectator. The Course of his Verses resembles that of the Army he describes,
They pour along like a Fire that sweeps the whole Earth before it.
'Tis however remarkable that his Fancy, which is every where vigorous, is not discover'd immediately at the beginning of his Poem in its fullest Splendor: It grows in the Progress both upon himself and others, and becomes on Fire like a Chariot-Wheel, by its own Rapidity. Exact Disposition, just Thought, correct Elocution, polish'd Numbers, may have been found in a thousand; but this Poetical
Fire,
this
Vivida vis animi,
in a very few. Even in Works where all those are imperfect or neglected, this can over-power Criticism, and make us admire even while we dis-approve. Nay, where this appears, tho' attended with Absurdities, it brightens all the Rubbish about it, 'till we see nothing but its own Splendor. This
Fire
is discern'd in
Virgil,
but discern'd as through a Glass, reflected, and more shining than warm, but every where equal and constant: In
Lucan
and
Statius,
it bursts out in sudden, short, and interrupted Flashes: In
Milton,
it glows like a Furnace kept up to an uncommon Fierceness by the Force of Art: In
Shakespear,
it strikes before we are aware, like an accidental Fire from Heaven: But in
Homer,
and in him only, it burns every where clearly, and every where irresistibly.
I shall here endeavour to show, how this vast
Invention
exerts itself in a manner superior to that of any Poet, thro' all the main constituent Parts of his Work, as it is the great and peculiar Characteristick which distinguishes him from all other Authors.
This strong and ruling Faculty was like a powerful Planet, which in the Violence of its Course, drew all things within its
Vortex.
It seem'd not enough to have taken in the whole Circle of Arts, and the whole Compass of Nature; all the inward Passions and Affections of Mankind to supply this Characters, and all the outward Forms and Images of Things for his Descriptions; but wanting yet an ampler Sphere to expatiate in, he open'd a new and boundless Walk for his Imagination, and created a World for himself in the Invention of
Fable.
That which
Aristotle
calls the
Soul of Poetry,
was first breath'd into it by
Homer.
I shall begin with considering him in this Part, as it is naturally the first, and I speak of it both as it means the Design of a Poem, and as it is taken for Fiction.
Fable may be divided into the
Probable,
the
Allegorical,
and the
Marvelous.
The
Probable
Fable
is the Recital of such Actions as tho' they did not happen, yet might, in the common course of Nature: Or of such as tho' they did, become Fables by the additional Episodes and manner of telling them. Of this sort is the main Story of an Epic Poem,
the Return of
Ulysses,
the Settlement of the
Trojans
in
Italy, or the like. That of the
Iliad
is
the Anger of
Achilles, the most short and single Subject that ever was chosen by any Poet. Yet this he has supplied with a vaster Variety of Incidents and Events, and crouded with a greater Number of Councils, Speeches, Battles, and Episodes of all kinds, than are to be found even in those Poems whose Schemes are of the utmost Latitude and Irregularity. The Action is hurry'd on with the most vehement Spirit, and its whole Duration employs not so much as fifty Days.
Virgil,
for want of so warm a Genius, aided himself by taking in a more extensive Subject, as well as a greater Length of Time, and contracting the Design of both
Homer
's Poems into one, which is yet but a fourth part as large as his. The other Epic Poets have us'd the same Practice, but generally carry'd it so far as to superinduce a Multiplicity of Fables, destroy the Unity of Action, and lose their Readers in an unreasonable Length of Time. Nor is it only in the main Design that they have been unable to add to his Invention, but they have follow'd him in every Episode and Part of Story. If he has given a regular
Catalogue
of an
Army,
they all draw up their Forces in the same Order. If he has funeral Games for
Patroclus, Virgil
has the same for
Anchises,
and
Statius
(rather than omit them) destroys the Unity of his Action for those of
Archemorus.
If
Ulysses
visit the Shades, the
Aeneas
of
Virgil
and
Scipio
of
Silius
are sent after him. If he be detain'd from his Return by the Allurements of
Calypso,
so is
Aeneas
by
Dido,
and
Rinaldo
by
Armida.
If
Achilles
be absent from the Army on the Score of a Quarrel thro' half the Poem,
Rinaldo
must absent himself just as long, on the like account. If he gives his Heroe a Suit of celestial Armour,
Virgil
and
Tasso
make the same Present to theirs.
Virgil
has not only observ'd this close Imitation of
Homer,
but where he had not led the way, supply'd the Want from other
Greek
Authors. Thus the Story of
Sinon
and the
Taking of Troy
was copied (says
Macrobius
) almost word for word from
Pisander,
as the Loves of
Dido
and
Aeneas
are taken from those of
Medaea
and
Jason
in
Apollonius,
and several others in the same manner.
To proceed to the
Allegorical Fable:
If we reflect upon those innumerable Knowledges, those Secrets of Nature and Physical Philosophy which
Homer
is generally suppos'd to have wrapt up in his
Allegories,
what a new and ample Scene of Wonder may this Consideration afford us? How fertile will that Imagination appear, which was able to cloath all the Properties of Elements, the Qualifications of the Mind, the Virtues and Vices, in Forms and Persons; and to introduce them into Actions agreeable to the Nature of the Things they shadow'd? This is a Field in which no succeeding Poets could dispute with
Homer;
and whatever Commendations have been allow'd them on this Head, are by no means for their Invention in having enlarg'd his Circle, but for their Judgment in having contracted it. For when the Mode of Learning chang'd in following Ages, and Science was deliver'd in a plainer manner, it then became as reasonable in the more modern Poets to lay it aside, as it was in
Homer
to make use of it. And perhaps it was no unhappy Circumstance for
Virgil,
that there was not in his Time that Demand upon him of so great an Invention, as might be capable of furnishing all those Allegorical Parts of a Poem.
The
Marvelous Fable
includes whatever is supernatural, and especially the Machines of the Gods. If
Homer
was not the first who introduc'd the Deities (as
Herodotus
imagines) into the Religion of
Greece,
he seems the first who brought them into a System of
Machinery
for Poetry, and such an one as makes its greatest Importance and Dignity. For we find those Authors who have been offended at the literal Notion of the Gods, constantly laying their Accusation against
Homer
as the undoubted Inventor of them. But whatever cause there might be to blame his
Machines
in a Philosophical or Religious View, they are so perfect in the Poetick, that Mankind have been ever since contented to follow them: None have been able to enlarge the Sphere of Poetry beyond the Limits he has set: Every Attempt of this Nature has prov'd unsuccessful; and after all the various Changes of Times and Religions, his Gods continue to this Day the Gods of Poetry.
We come now to the
Characters
of his Persons, and here we shall find no Author has ever drawn so many with so visible and surprizing a Variety, or given us such lively and affecting Impressions of them. Every one has something so singularly his own, that no Painter could have distinguish'd them more by their Features, than the Poet has by their Manners. Nothing can be more exact than the Distinctions he has observ'd in the different degrees of Virtues and Vices. The single Quality of
Courage
is wonderfully diversify'd in the several Characters of the
Iliad.
That of
Achilles
is furious and intractable; that of
Diomede
forward, yet listening to Advice and subject to Command: We see in
Ajax
an heavy and selfconsidering Valour, in
Hector
an active and vigilant one: The Courage of
Agamemnon
is inspirited by Love of Empire and Ambition, that of
Menelaus
mix'd with Softness and Tenderness for his People: We find in
Idomeneus
a plain direct Soldier, in
Sarpedon
a gallant and generous one. Nor is this judicious and astonishing Diversity to be found only in the principal Quality which constitutes the Main of each Character, but even in the Under-parts of it, to which he takes care to give a Tincture of that principal one. For Example, the main Characters of
Ulysses
and
Nestor
consist in
Wisdom,
and they are distinct in this; the Wisdom of one is
artificial
and
various,
of the other
natural, open,
and
regular.
But they have, besides, Characters of
Courage;
and this Quality also takes a different Turn in each from the difference of his Prudence: For one in the War depends still upon
Caution,
the other upon
Experience.
It would be endless to produce Instances of these Kinds. The Characters of
Virgil
are far from striking us in this open manner; they lie in a great degree hidden and undistinguish'd, and where they are mark'd most evidently, affect us not in proportion to those of
Homer.
His Characters of Valour are much alike; even that of
Turnus
seems no way peculiar but as it is in a superior degree; and we see nothing that differences the Courage of
Mnestheus
from that of
Sergesthus, Cloanthus,
or the rest. In like manner it may be remark'd of
Statius
's Heroes, that an Air of Impetuosity runs thro' them all; the same horrid and savage Courage appears in his
Capaneus, Tydeus, Hippomedon,
&c. They have a Parity of Character which makes them seem Brothers of one Family. I believe when the Reader is led into this Track of Reflection, if he will pursue it through the
Epic
and
Tragic
Writers, he will be convinced how infinitely superior in this Point the Invention of
Homer
was to that of all others.
The
Speeches
are to be consider'd as they slow from the Characters, being perfect or defective as they agree or disagree with the Manners of those who utter them. As there is more variety of Characters in the
Iliad,
so there is of Speeches, than in any other Poem.
Every thing in it has Manners
(as
Aristotle
expresses it) that is, every thing is acted or spoken. It is hardly credible in a Work of such length, how small a Number of Lines are employ'd in Narration. In
Virgil
the Dramatic Part is less in proportion to the Narrative; and the Speeches often consist of general Reflections or Thoughts, which might be equally just in any Person's Mouth upon the same Occasion. As many of his Persons have no apparent Characters, so many of his Speeches escape being apply'd and judg'd by the Rule of Propriety. We oftner think of the Author himself when we read
Virgil,
than when we are engag'd in
Homer:
All which are the Effects of a colder Invention, that interests us less in the Action describ'd:
Homer
makes us Hearers, and
Virgil
leaves us Readers.
If in the next place we take a View of the
Sentiments,
the same presiding Faculty is eminent in the Sublimity and Spirit of his Thoughts.
Longinus
has given his Opinion, that it was in this Part
Homer
principally excell'd. What were alone sufficient to prove the Grandeur and Excellence of his Sentiments in general, is that they have so remarkable a Parity with those of the Scripture:
Duport,
in his
Gnomologia Homerica,
has collected innumerable Instances of this sort. And it is with Justice an excellent modern Writer allows, that if
Virgil
has not so many Thoughts that are low and vulgar, he has not so many that are sublime and noble; and that the
Roman
Author seldom rises into very astonishing Sentiments where he is not fired by the
Iliad.
If we observe his
Descriptions, Images,
and
Similes,
we shall find the Invention still predominant. To what else can we ascribe that vast Comprehension of Images of every sort, where we see each Circumstance and Individual of Nature summon'd together by the Extent and Fecundity of his Imagination; to which all things, in their various Views, presented themselves in an Instant, and had their Impressions taken off to Perfection at a Heat? Nay, he not only gives us the full Prospects of Things, but several unexpected Peculiarities and Side-Views, unobserv'd by any Painter but
Homer.
Nothing is so surprizing as the Descriptions of his Battels, which take up no less than half the
Iliad,
and are supply'd with so vast a Variety of Incidents, that no one bears a Likeness to another; such different Kinds of Deaths, that no two Heroes are wounded in the same manner; and such a Profusion of noble Ideas, that every Battel rises above the last in Greatness, Horror, and Confusion. It is certain there is not near that Number of Images and Descriptions in any Epic Poet; tho' every one has assisted himself with a great Quantity out of him: And it is evident of
Virgil
especially, that he has scarce any Comparisons which are not drawn from his Master.
If we descend from hence to the
Expression,
we see the bright Imagination of
Homer
shining out in the most enliven'd Forms of it. We acknowledge him the Father of Poetical Diction, the first who taught that
Language of the Gods
to Men. His Expression is like the colouring of some great Masters, which discovers itself to be laid on boldly, and executed with Rapidity. It is indeed the strongest and most glowing imaginable, and touch'd with the greatest Spirit.
Aristotle
had reason to say, He was the only Poet who had found out
Living Words;
there are in him more daring Figures and Metaphors than in any good Author whatever. An Arrow is
impatient
to be on the Wing, a Weapon
thirsts
to drink the Blood of an Enemy, and the like. Yet his Expression is never too big for the Sense, but justly great in proportion to it: 'Tis the Sentiment that swells and fills out the Diction, which rises with it, and forms itself about it. For in the same degree that a
Thought
is warmer, an
Expression
will be brighter; and as That is more strong, This will become more perspicuous: Like Glass in the Furnace which grows to a greater Magnitude, and refines to a greater Clearness, only as the
Breath
within is more powerful, and the
Heat
more intense.
To throw his Language more out of Prose,
Homer
seems to have affected the
Compound-Epithets.
This was a sort of Composition peculiarly proper to Poetry, not only as it heighten'd the
Diction,
but as it assisted and fill'd the
Numbers
with greater Sound and Pomp, and likewise conduced in some measure to thicken the
Images.
On this last Consideration I cannot but attribute these to the Fruitfulness of his Invention, since (as he has manag'd them) they are a sort of supernumerary Pictures of the Persons or Things they are join'd to. We see the Motion of
Hector
's Plumes in the Epithet
, the Landscape of Mount
Neritus
in that of
, and so of others; which particular Images could not have been insisted upon so long as to express them in a Description (tho' but of a single Line) without diverting the Reader too much from the principal Action or Figure. As a Metaphor is a short Simile, one of these Epithets is a short Description.
Lastly, if we consider his
Versification,
we shall be sensible what a Share of Praise is due to his Invention in that also. He was not satisfy'd with his Language as he found it settled in any one Part of
Greece,
but search'd thro' its differing
Dialects
with this particular View, to beautify and perfect his Numbers: He consider'd these as they had a greater Mixture of Vowels or Consonants, and accordingly employ'd them as the Verse requir'd either a greater Smoothness or Strength. What he most affected was the
Ionic,
which has a peculiar Sweetness from its never using Contractions, and from its Custom of resolving the Diphthongs into two Syllables; so as to make the Words open themselves with a more spreading and sonorous Fluency. With this he mingled the
Attic
Contractions, the broader
Doric,
and the feebler
Aeolic,
which often rejects its Aspirate, or takes off its Accent; and compleated this Variety by altering some Letters with the License of Poetry. Thus his Measures, instead of being Fetters to his Sense, were always in readiness to run along with the Warmth of his Rapture; and even to give a farther Representation of his Notions, in the Correspondence of their Sounds to what they signify'd. Out of all these he has deriv'd that Harmony, which makes us confess he had not only the richest Head, but the finest Ear in the World. This is so great a Truth, that whoever will but consult the Tune of his Verses even without understanding them (with the same sort of Diligence as we daily see practis'd in the Case of
Italian Opera's
) will find more Sweetness, Variety, and Majesty of Sound, than in any other Language or Poetry. The Beauty of his Numbers is allow'd by the Criticks to be copied but faintly by
Virgil
himself, tho' they are so just to ascribe it to the Nature of the
Latine
Tongue. Indeed the
Greek
has some Advantages both from the natural
Sound
of its
Words,
and the Turn and
Cadence
of its
Verse,
which agree with the Genius of no other Language.
Virgil
was very sensible of this, and used the utmost Diligence in working up a more intractable Language to whatsoever Graces it was capable of, and in particular never fail'd to bring the Sound of his Line to a beautiful Agreement with its Sense. If the
Grecian
Poet has not been so frequently celebrated on this Account as the
Roman,
the only reason is, that fewer Criticks have understood one Language than the other.
Dionysius
of
Halicarnassus
has pointed out many of our Author's Beauties in this kind, in his Treatise of the
Composition of Words,
and others will be taken notice of in the Course of the Notes. It suffices at present to observe of his Numbers, that they flow with so much ease, as to make one imagine
Homer
had no other care than to transcribe as fast as the
Muses
dictated; and at the same time with so much Force and inspiriting Vigour, that they awaken and raise us like the Sound of a Trumpet. They roll along as a plentiful River, always in motion, and always full; while we are born away by a Tide of Verse, the most rapid, and yet the most smooth imaginable.
Thus on whatever side we contemplate
Homer,
what principally strikes us is his
Invention.
It is that which forms the Character of each Part of his Work; and accordingly we find it to have made his Fable more
extensive
and
copious
than any other, his Manners more
lively
and
strongly marked,
his Speeches more
affecting
and
transported,
his Sentiments more
warm
and
sublime,
his Images and Descriptions more
full
and
animated,
his Expression more
rais'd
and
daring,
and his Numbers more
rapid
and
various.
I hope in what has been said of
Virgil
with regard to any of these Heads, I have no way derogated from his Character. Nothing is more absurd or endless, than the common Method of comparing eminent Writers by an Opposition of particular Passages in them, and forming a Judgment from thence of their Merit upon the whole. We ought to have a certain Knowledge of the principal Character and distinguishing Excellence of each: It is in
that
we are to consider him, and in proportion to his Degree in
that
we are to admire him. No Author or Man ever excell'd all the World in more than one Faculty, and as
Homer
has done this in Invention,
Virgil
has in Judgment. Not that we are to think
Homer
wanted Judgment, because
Virgil
had it in a more eminent degree; or that
Virgil
wanted Invention, because
Homer
possest a larger share of it: Each of these great Authors had more of both than perhaps any Man besides, and are only said to have less in Comparison with one another.
Homer
was the greater Genius,
Virgil
the better Artist. In one we most admire the
Man,
in the other the
Work. Homer
hurries and transports us with a commanding Impetuosity,
Virgil
leads us with an attractive Majesty:
Homer
scatters with a generous Profusion,
Virgil
bestows with a careful Magnificence:
Homer,
like the
Nile,
pours out his Riches with a sudden Overflow;
Virgil
like a River in its Banks, with a gentle and constant Stream. When we behold their Battels, methinks the two Poets resemble the Heroes they celebrate:
Homer,
boundless and irresistible as
Achilles,
bears all before him, and shines more and more as the Tumult increases;
Virgil,
calmly daring like
Aeneas,
appears undisturb'd in the midst of the Action, disposes all about him, and conquers with Tranquillity: And when we look upon their Machines,
Homer
seems like his own
Jupiter
in his Terrors, shaking
Olympus,
scattering the Lightnings, and firing the Heavens;
Virgil,
like the same Power in his Benevolence, counselling with the Gods, laying Plans for Empires, and regularly ordering his whole Creation.
But after all, it is with great Parts as with great Virtues, they naturally border on some Imperfection; and it is often hard to distinguish exactly where the Virtue ends, or the Fault begins. As Prudence may sometimes sink to Suspicion, so may a great Judgment decline to Coldness; and as Magnanimity may run up to Profusion or Extravagance, so may a great Invention to Redundancy or Wildness. If we look upon
Homer
in this View, we shall perceive the chief
Objections
against him to proceed from so noble a Cause as the Excess of this Faculty.
Among these we may reckon some of his
Marvellous Fictions,
upon which so much Criticism has been spent as surpassing all the Bounds of Probability. Perhaps it may be with great and superior Souls as with gigantick Bodies, which exerting themselves with unusual Strength, exceed what is commonly thought the due Proportion of Parts, to become Miracles in the whole; and like the old Heroes of that Make, commit something near Extravagance amidst a Series of glorious and inimitable Performances. Thus
Homer
has his
speaking Horses,
and
Virgil
his
Myrtles distilling Blood,
without so much as contriving the easy Intervention of a Deity to save the Probability.
It is owing to the same vast Invention that his
Similes
have been thought too exuberant and full of Circumstances. The Force of this Faculty is seen in nothing more, than its Inability to confine itself to that single Circumstance upon which the Comparison is grounded: It runs out into Embellishments of additional Images, which however are so manag'd as not to overpower the main one. His Similes are like Pictures, where the principal Figure has not only its proportion given agreeable to the Original, but is also set off with occasional Ornaments and Prospects. The same will account for his manner of heaping a Number of Comparisons together in one Breath, when his Fancy suggested to him at once so many various and correspondent Images. The Reader will easily extend this Observation to more Objections of the same kind.
If there are others which seem rather to charge him with a Defect or Narrowness of Genius, than an Excess of it; those seeming Defects will be found upon Examination to proceed wholly from the Nature of the Times he liv'd in. Such are his
grosser Representations
of the
Gods,
and the vicious and
imperfect Manners
of his
Heroes,
which will be treated of in the following
See the Articles of
Theology
and
Morality,
in the third Part of the
Essay.
Essay:
But I must here speak a word of the latter, as it is a Point generally carry'd into Extreams both by the Censurers and Defenders of
Homer.
It must be a strange Partiality to Antiquity to think with Madam
Dacier,
"that
Preface to her
Homer.
those Times and Manners are so much the more excellent, as they are more contrary to ours"
Who can be so prejudiced in their Favour as to magnify the Felicity of those Ages, when a Spirit of Revenge and Cruelty reign'd thro' the World, when no Mercy was shown but for the sake of Lucre, when the greatest Princes were put to the Sword, and their Wives and Daughters made Slaves and Concubines? On the other side I would not be so delicate as those modern Criticks, who are shock'd at the
servile Offices
and
mean Employments
in which we sometimes see the Heroes of
Homer
engag'd. There is a Pleasure in taking a view of that Simplicity in Opposition to the Luxury of succeeding Ages; in beholding Monarchs without their Guards, Princes tending their Flocks, and Princesses drawing Water from the Springs. When we read
Homer,
we ought to reflect that we are reading the most ancient Author in the Heathen World; and those who consider him in this Light, will double their Pleasure in the Perusal of him. Let them think they are growing acquainted with Nations and People that are now no more; that they are stepping almost three thousand Years backward into the remotest Antiquity, and entertaining themselves with a clear and surprizing Vision of Things no where else to be found, and the only authentick Picture of that ancient World. By this means alone their greatest Obstacles will vanish; and what usually creates their Dislike, will become a Satisfaction.
This Consideration may farther serve to answer for the constant Use of the same
Epithets
to his Gods and Heroes, such as the
far-darting Phoebus,
the
blue-ey'd Pallas,
the
swift-footed Achilles,
&c. which some have censured as impertinent and tediously repeated. Those of the Gods depended upon the Powers and Offices then believ'd to belong to them, and had contracted a Weight and Veneration from the Rites and solemn Devotions in which they were us'd: They were a sort of Attributes that it was a Matter of Religion to salute them with on all Occasions, and an Irreverence to omit. As for the Epithets of great Men, Mons.
Boileau
is of Opinion; that they were in the Nature of
Surnames,
and repeated as such; for the
Greeks
having no Names deriv'd from their Fathers, were oblig'd when they mention'd any one to add some other Distinction; either naming his Parents expressly, or his Place of Birth, Profession, or the like: As
Alexander
Son of
Philip, Herodotus
of
Halicarnassus, Diogenes
the
Cynic, &c. Homer
therefore complying with the Custom of his Countrey, us'd such distinctive Additions as better agreed with Poetry. And indeed we have something parallel to these in modern Times, such as the Names of
Harold Harefoot, Edmund Ironside, Edward Long-shanks, Edward
the
black Prince, &c.
If yet this be thought to account better for the Propriety than for the Repetition, I shall add a farther Conjecture.
Hesiod
dividing the World into its Ages, has plac'd a fourth Age between the Brazen and the Iron one, of
Heroes distinct from other Men, a divine Race, who fought at
Thebes
and
Troy,
are called Demi-Gods, and live by the Care of
Jupiter
in the Islands of the Blessed
Hesiod,
lib.
1. ℣. 155, &c.
. Now among the divine Honours which were paid them, they might have this also in common with the Gods, not to be mention'd without the Solemnity of an Epithet, and such as might be acceptable to them by its celebrating their Families, Actions, or Qualities.
What other Cavils have been rais'd against
Homer
are such as hardly deserve a Reply, but will yet be taken notice of as they occur in the Course of the Work. Many have been occasion'd by an injudicious Endeavour to exalt
Virgil;
which is much the same, as if one should think to praise the Superstructure by undermining the Foundation: One would imagine by the whole Course of their Parallels, that these Criticks never so much as heard of
Homer
's having written first; a Consideration which whoever compares these two Poets ought to have always in his Eye. Some accuse him for the same things which they overlook or praise in the other; as when they prefer the Fable and Moral of the
Aeneis
to those of the
Iliad,
for the same Reasons which might set the
Odysses
above the
Aeneis:
as that the Heroe is a wiser Man; and the Action of the one more beneficial to his Countrey than that of the other: Or else they blame him for not doing what he never design'd; as because
Achilles
is not as good and perfect a Prince as
Aeneas,
when the very Moral of his Poem requir'd a contrary Character. It is thus that
Rapin
judges in his Comparison of
Homer
and
Virgil.
Others select those particular Passages of
Homer
which are not so labour'd as some that
Virgil
drew out of them: This is the whole Management of
Scaliger
in his
Poetices.
Others quarrel with what they take for low and mean Expressions, sometimes thro' a false Delicacy and Refinement, oftner from an Ignorance of the Graces of the Original; and then triumph in the Aukwardness of their own Translations. This is the Conduct of
Perault
in his
Parallels.
Lastly, there are others, who pretending to a fairer Proceeding, distinguish between the personal Merit of
Homer,
and that of his
Work;
but when they come to assign the Causes of the great Reputation of the
Iliad,
they found it upon the Ignorance of his Times, and the Prejudice of those that followed. And in pursuance of this Principle, they make those Accidents (such as the Contention of the Cities,
&c.
) to be the Causes of his Fame, which were in Reality the Consequences of his Merit. The same might as well be said of
Virgil,
or any great Author, whose general Character will infallibly raise many casual Additions to their Reputation. This is the Method of Mons.
de la Motte;
who yet confesses upon the whole, that in whatever Age
Homer
had liv'd he must have been the greatest Poet of his Nation, and that he may be said in this Sense to be the Master even of those who surpass'd him.
In all these Objections we see nothing that contradicts his Title to the Honour of the chief
Invention;
and as long as this (which is indeed the Characteristic of Poetry itself) remains unequal'd by his Followers, he still continues superior to them. A cooler Judgment may commit fewer Faults, and be more approv'd in the Eves of
One Sort
of Criticks: but that Warmth of Fancy will carry the loudest and most universal Applauses which holds the Heart of a Reader under the strongest Enchantment.
Homer
not only appears the Inventor of Poetry, but excells all the Inventors of other Arts in this, that he has swallow'd up the Honour of those who succeeded him. What he has done admitted no Encrease, it only lest room for Contraction or Regulation. He shew'd all the Stretch of Fancy at once; and if he has fail'd in some of his Flights, it was but because he attempted every thing. A Work of this kind seems like a mighty Tree which rises from the most vigorous Seed, is improv'd with Industry, flourishes, and produces the finest Fruit; Nature and Art have conspir'd to raise it; Pleasure and Profit join'd to make it valuable: and they who find the justest Faults, have only said, that a few Branches (which run luxuriant thro' a Richness of Nature) might be lopp'd into Form to give it a more regular Appearance.
Having now spoken of the Beauties and Defects of the Original, it remains to treat of the Translation, with the same View to the chief Characteristic. As far as that is seen in the main Parts of the Poem, such as the
Fable, Manners,
and
Sentiments,
no Translator can prejudice it but by wilful Omissions or Contractions. As it also breaks out in every particular
Image, Description,
and
Simile;
whoever lessens or too much softens those, takes off from this chief Character. It is the first grand Duty of an Interpreter to give his Author entire and unmaim'd; and for the rest, the
Diction
and
Versification
only are his proper Province; since these must be his own, but the others he is to take as he finds them.
It should then be consider'd what Methods may afford some Equivalent in our Language for the Graces of these in the
Greek.
It is certain no literal Translation can be just to an excellent Original in a superior Language: but it is a great Mistake to imagine (as many have done) that a rash Paraphrase can make amends for this general Defect; which is no less in danger to lose the Spirit of an Ancient, by deviating into the modern Manners of Expression. If there be sometimes a
Darkness,
there is often a
Light
in Antiquity, which nothing better preserves than a Version almost literal. I know no Liberties one ought to take, but those which are necessary for transfusing the Spirit of the Original, and supporting the Poetical Style of the Translation: and I will venture to say, there have not been more Men misled in former times by a servile dull Adherence to the Letter, than have been deluded in ours by a chimerical insolent Hope of raising and improving their Author. It is not to be doubted that the
Fire
of the Poem is what a Translator should principally regard, as it is most likely to expire in his managing: However it is his safest way to be content with preserving this to his utmost in the Whole, without endeavouring to be more than he finds his Author is, in any particular Place. 'Tis a great Secret in Writing to know when to be plain, and when poetical and figurative; and it is what
Homer
will teach us if we will but follow modestly in his Footsteps. Where his Diction is bold and lofty, let us raise ours as high as we can; but where his is plain and humble, we ought not to be deterr'd from imitating him by the fear of incurring the Censure of a meer
English
Critick. Nothing that belongs to
Homer
seems to have been more commonly mistaken than the just Pitch of his Style: Some of his Translators having swell'd into Fustian in a proud Confidence of the
Sublime;
others sunk into Flatness in a cold and timorous Notion of
Simplicity.
Methinks I see these different Followers of
Homer,
some sweating and straining after him by violent Leaps and Bounds, (the certain Signs of false Mettle) others slowly and servilely creeping in his Train, while the Poet himself is all the time proceeding with an unaffected and equal Majesty before them. However of the two Extreams one could sooner pardon Frenzy than Frigidity: No Author is to be envy'd for such Commendations as he may gain by that Character of Style, which his Friends must agree together to call
Simplicity,
and the rest of the World will call
Dulness.
There is a
graceful
and
dignify'd
Simplicity, as well as a
bald
and
sordid
one, which differ as much from each other as the Air of a
plain
Man from that of a
Sloven:
'Tis one thing to be tricked up, and another not to be dress'd at all. Simplicity is the Mean between Ostentation and Rusticity.
This pure and noble Simplicity is no where in such Perfection as in the
Scripture
and our Author. One may affirm with all respect to the inspired Writings, that the
Divine Spirit
made use of no other Words but what were intelligible and common to Men at that Time, and in that Part of the World; and as
Homer
is the Author nearest to those, his Style must of course bear a greater Resemblance to the sacred Books than that of any other Writer. This Consideration (together with what has been observ'd of the Parity of some of his Thoughts) may methinks induce a Translator on the one hand to give into several of those general Phrases and Manners of Expression, which have attain'd a Veneration even in our Language from their use in the
Old Testament;
as on the other, to avoid those which have been appropriated to the Divinity, and in a manner consign'd to Mystery and Religion.
For a farther Preservation of this Air of Simplicity, a particular Care should be taken to express with all Plainness those
Moral Sentences
and
Proverbial Speeches
which are so numerous in this Poet. They have something Venerable, and as I may say
Oracular,
in that unadorn'd Gravity and Shortness with which they are deliver'd: a Grace which would be utterly lost by endeavouring to give them what we call a more ingenious (that is a more modern) Turn in the Paraphrase.
Perhaps the Mixture of some
Graecisms
and old Words after the manner of
Milton,
if done without too much Affectation, might not have an ill Effect in a Version of this particular Work, which most of any other seems to require a venerable
Antique
Cast. But certainly the use of
modern Terms
of
War
and
Government,
such as
Platoon, Campagne, Junto,
or the like (which some of his Translators have fallen into) cannot be allowable; those only excepted, without which it is impossible to treat the Subjects in any living Language.
There are two Peculiarities in
Homer
's Diction that are a sort of
Marks
or
Moles,
by which every common Eye distinguishes him at first sight: Those who are not his greatest Admirers look upon them as Defects, and those who are seem pleased with them as Beauties. I speak of his
Compound-Epithets
and of his
Repetitions.
Many of the former cannot be done literally into
English
without destroying the Purity of our Language. I believe such should be retain'd as slide easily of themselves into an
English-Compound,
without Violence to the Ear or to the receiv'd Rules of Composition; as well as those which have receiv'd a Sanction from the Authority of our best Poets, and are become familiar thro' their use of them; such as the
Cloud-compelling Jove, &c.
As for the rest, whenever any can be as fully and significantly exprest in a single word as in a compounded one, the Course to be taken is obvious. Some that cannot be so turn'd as to preserve their full Image by one or two Words, may have Justice done them by Circumlocution; as the Epithet
to a Mountain would appear little or ridiculous translated literally
Leaf-shaking,
but affords a majestic Idea in the
Periphrasis: The lofty Mountains shakes his waving Woods.
Others that admit of differing Significations, may receive an Advantage by a judicious Variation according to the Occasions on which they are introduc'd. For Example, the Epithet of
Apollo,
, or
far-shooting,
is capable of two Explications; one literal in respect of the Darts and Bow, the Ensigns of that God; the other allegorical with regard to the Rays of the Sun: Therefore in such Places where
Apollo
is represented as a God in Person, I would use the former Interpretation, and where the Effects of the Sun are describ'd, I would make choice of the latter. Upon the whole, it will be necessary to avoid that perpetual Repetition of the same Epithets which we find in
Homer,
and which, tho' it might be accommodated (as has been already shewn) to the Ear of those Times, is by no means so to ours: But one may wait for Opportunities of placing them, where they derive an additional Beauty from the Occasions on which they are employed; and in doing this properly, a Translator may at once shew his Fancy and his Judgment.
As for
Homer
's
Repetitions;
we may divide them into three sorts; of whole Narrations and Speeches, of single Sentences, and of one Verse or Hemistich. I hope it is not impossible to have such a Regard to these, as neither to lose so known a Mark of the Author on the one hand, nor to offend the Reader too much on the other. The Repetition is not ungraceful in those Speeches where the Dignity of the Speaker renders it a sort of Insolence to alter his Words; as in the Messages from Gods to Men, or from higher Powers to Inferiors in Concerns of State, or where the Ceremonial of Religion seems to require it, in the solemn Forms of Prayers, Oaths, or the like. In other Cases, I believe the best Rule is to be guided by the Nearness, or Distance, at which the Repetitions are plac'd in the Original: When they follow too close one may vary the Expression, but it is a Question whether a profess'd Translator be authorized to omit any: If they be tedious, the Author is to answer for it.
It only remains to speak of the
Versification. Homer
(as has been said) is perpetually applying the Sound to the Sense, and varying it on every new Subject. This is indeed one of the most exquisite Beauties of Poetry, and attainable by very few: I know only of
Homer
eminent for it in the
Greek,
and
Virgil
in
Latine.
I am sensible it is what may sometimes happen by Chance, when a Writer is warm, and fully possest of his Image: however it may be reasonably believed they design'd this, in whose Verse it so manifestly appears in a superior degree to all others. Few Readers have the Ear to be Judges of it, but those who have will see I have endeavour'd at this Beauty.
Upon the whole, I must confess my self utterly incapable of doing Justice to
Homer.
I attempt him in no other Hope but that which one may entertain without much Vanity, of giving a more tolerable Copy of him than any entire Translation in Verse has yet done. We have only those of
Chapman, Hobbes,
and
Ogilby. Chapman
has taken the Advantage of an immeasurable Length of Verse, notwithstanding which there is scarce any Paraphrase more loose and rambling than his. He has frequent Interpolations of four or six Lines, and I remember one in the thirteenth Book of the
Odysses, ver.
312. where he has spun twenty Verses out of two. He is often mistaken in so bold a manner, that one might think he deviated on purpose, if he did not in other Places of his Notes insist so much upon Verbal Trifles. He appears to have had a strong Affectation of extracting new Meanings out of his Author, insomuch as to promise in his Rhyming Preface, a Poem of the Mysteries he had revealed in
Homer;
and perhaps he endeavoured to strain the obvious Sense to this End. His Expression is involved in Fustian, a Fault for which he was remarkable in his Original Writings, as in the Tragedy of
Bussyd' Amboise,
&c. In a word, the Nature of the Man may account for his whole Performance; for he appears from his Preface and Remarks to have been of an arrogant Turn, and an Enthusiast in Poetry. His own Boast of having finish'd half the
Iliad
in less than fifteen Weeks, shews with what Negligence his Version was performed. But that which is to be allowed him, and which very much contributed to cover his Defects, is a daring fiery Spirit that animates his Translation, which is something like what one might imagine
Homer
himself would have writ before he arriv'd to Years of Discretion.
Hobbes
has given us a correct Explanation of the Sense in general, but for Particulars and Circumstances he continually lopps them, and often omits the most beautiful. As for its being esteem'd a close Translation, I doubt not many have been led into that Error by the Shortness of it, which proceeds not from his following the Original Line by Line, but from the Contractions above-mentioned. He sometimes omits whole Similes and Sentences, and is now and then guilty of Mistakes which no Writer of his Learning could have fallen into, but thro' Carelesness. His Poetry, as well as
Ogilby
's, is too mean for Criticism.
It is a great Loss to the Poetical World that Mr.
Dryden
did not live to translate the
Iliad.
He has left us only the first Book and a small Part of the sixth; in which if he has in some Places not truly interpreted the Sense, or preserved the Antiquities, it ought to be excused on account of the Haste he was obliged to write in. He seems to have had too much Regard to
Chapman,
whose Words he sometimes copies, and has unhappily follow'd him in Passages where he wanders from the Original. However had he translated the whole Work, I would no more have attempted
Homer
after him than
Virgil,
his Version of whom (notwithstanding some human Errors) is the most noble and spirited Translation I know in any Language. But the Fate of great Genius's is like that of great Ministers, tho' they are confessedly the first in the Commonwealth of Letters, they must be envy'd and calumniated only for being at the Head of it.
That which in my Opinion ought to be the Endeavour of any one who translates
Homer,
is above all things to keep alive that Spirit and Fire which makes his chief Character. In particular Places, where the Sense can bear any Doubt, to follow the strongest and most Poetical, as most agreeing with that Character. To copy him in all the Variations of his Style, and the different Modulations of his Numbers. To preserve in the more active or descriptive Parts, a Warmth and Elevation; in the more sedate or narrative, a Plainness and Solemnity; in the Speeches a Fulness and Perspicuity; in the Sentences a Shortness and Gravity. Not to neglect even the little Figures and Turns on the Words, nor sometimes the very Cast of the Periods. Neither to omit or confound any Rites or Customs of Antiquity. Perhaps too he ought to include the whole in a shorter Compass, than has hitherto been done by any Translator who has tolerably preserved either the Sense or Poetry. What I would farther recommend to him, is to study his Author rather from his own Text than from any Commentaries, how learned soever, or whatever Figure they make in the Estimation of the World. To consider him attentively in Comparison with
Virgil
above all the Ancients, and with
Milton
above all the Moderns. Next these the Archbishop of
Cambray
's
Telemachus
may give him the truest Idea of the Spirit and Turn of our Author, and
Bossu
's admirable Treatise of the Epic Poem the justest Notion of his Design and Conduct. But after all, with whatever Judgment and Study a Man may proceed, or with whatever Happiness he may perform such a Work; he must hope to please but a few, those only who have at once a Taste of Poetry, and competent Learning. For to satisfy such as want either, is not in the Nature of this Undertaking; since a meer Modern Wit can like nothing that is not
Modern,
and a Pedant nothing that is not
Greek.
What I have done is submitted to the Publick, from whose Opinions I am prepared to learn; tho' I fear no Judges so little as our best Poets, who are most sensible of the Weight of this Task. As for the worst, whatever they shall please to say, they may give me some Concern as they are unhappy Men, but none as they are malignant Writers. I was guided in this Translation by Judgments very different from theirs, and by Persons for whom they can have no Kindness, if an old Observation be true, that the strongest Antipathy in the World is that of Fools to Men of Wit. Mr.
Addison
was the first whose Advice determin'd me to undertake this Task, who was pleas'd to write to me upon that Occasion in such Terms as I cannot repeat without Vanity. I was obliged to Sir
Richard Steele
for a very early Recommendation of my Undertaking to the Publick. Dr.
Swift
promoted my Interest with that Warmth with which he always serves his Friend. The Humanity and Frankness of Sir
Samuel Garth
are what I never knew wanting on any Occasion. I must also acknowledge with infinite Pleasure the many friendly Offices as well as sincere Criticisms of Mr.
Congreve,
who had led me the way in translating some Parts of
Homer,
as I wish for the sake of the World he had prevented me in the rest. I must add the Names of Mr.
Rowe
and Dr.
Parnell,
tho' I shall take a farther Opportunity of doing Justice to the last, whose Good-nature (to give it a great Panegyrick) is no less extensive than his Learning. The Favour of these Gentlemen is not entirely undeserved by one who bears them so true an Affection. But what can I say of the Honour so many of the
Great
have done me, while the
First Names
of the Age appear as my Subscribers, and the most distinguish'd Patrons and Ornaments of Learning as my chief Encouragers. Among these it is a particular Pleasure to me to find, that my highest Obligations are to such who have done most Honour to the Name of Poet: That his Grace the
Duke
of
Buckingham
was not displeas'd I should undertake the Author to whom he has given (in his excellent
Essay
) the finest Praise he ever yet receiv'd.
Read
Homer once,
and you can read no more;
For all things else appear so mean and poor,
Verse will seem Prose: yet
often
on him look,
And you will hardly need another Book.
That the Earl of
Halifax
was one of the first to favour me, of whom it is hard to say whether the Advancement of the Polite Arts is more owing to his Generosity or his Example. That such a Genius as my Lord
Bolingbroke,
not more distinguished in the great Scenes of Business than in all the useful and entertaining Parts of Learning, has not refus'd to be the Critick of these Sheets, and the Patron of their Writer. And that so excellent an Imitator of
Homer
as the noble Author of the Tragedy of
Heroic Love,
has continu'd his Partiality to me from my writing Pastorals to my attempting the
Iliad.
I cannot deny my self the Pride of confessing, that I have had the Advantage not only of their Advice for the Conduct in general, but their Correction of several Particulars of this Translation.
I could say a great deal of the Pleasure of being distinguish'd by the
Earl
of
Carnarvon,
but it is almost absurd to particularize any one generous Action in a Person whose whole Life is a continued Series of them. The Right Honourable Mr.
Stanhope,
the present Secretary of State, will pardon my Desire of having it known that he was pleas'd to promote this Affair. The particular Zeal of Mr.
Harcourt
(the Son of the late Lord Chancellor) gave me a Proof how much I am honour'd in a Share of his Friendship. I must attribute to the same Motive that of several others of my Friends, to whom all Acknowledgments are render'd unnecessary by the Privileges of a familiar Correspondence: And I am satisfy'd I can no way better oblige Men of their Turn, than by my Silence.
In short, I have found more Patrons than ever
Homer
wanted. He would have thought himself happy to have met the same Favour at
Athens,
that has been shewn me by its learned Rival, the University of
Oxford.
If my Author had the
Wits
of After-Ages for his Defenders, his Translator has had the
Beauties
of the present for his Advocates; a Pleasure too great to be changed for any Fame in Reversion. And I can hardly envy him those pompous Honours he receiv'd after Death, when I reflect on the Enjoyment of so many agreeable Obligations, and easy Friendships which make the Satisfaction of Life. This Distinction is the more to be acknowledg'd, as it is shewn to one whose Pen has never gratify'd the Prejudices of particular
Parties,
or the Vanities of particular
Men.
Whatever the Success may prove, I shall never repent of an Undertaking in which I have experienc'd the Candour and Friendship of so many Persons of Merit; and in which I hope to pass some of those Years of Youth that are generally lost in a Circle of Follies, after a manner neither wholly unuseful to others, nor disagreeable to my self.
ΟΜΗΡΟϹ ΑΜΑϹΤΡΙϹ
ΟΜΗΡΟϹ ΝΩΙΞ
ΚΟΥΜΕΝΕ ΚΡΟΝΟΣ ΙΑΙΑΣ ΟΔΥΣΣΕΙΑ ΟΜΗΡΟΣ ΜΥΘΟΣ ΙΣΤΟΡΙΑ ΠΟ
ΣΙΣ ΚΩΜΩΙΔΙΑ ΤΡΑΓΥΔΙΑ Φ
ΣΙΣ ΑΡ
ΤΗ ΜΝΗΜΗ ΓΙΣΤΙΣ ΣΟΦΙΑ
Ex
antiquo in Palatio
Homaerium Smyrnaeum
ΟΜΗΡΟϹ ϹΜΥΡΝΑΙΩΝ
ΟΜΗΡΟϹ ΑΜΑΣΤΡΙΑΝΩΝ
GRAECIA HOMERICA
PHRYGIA cum Oris Maritimus
AN ESSAY ON THE LIFE, WRITINGS and LEARNING, OF HOMER.
THERE is something in the Mind of Man, which goes beyond bare Curiosity, and even carries us on to a Shadow of Friendship with those great Genius's whom we have known to excel in former Ages. Nor will it appear less to any one, who considers how much it partakes of the Nature of Friendship; how it compounds itself of an Admiration rais'd by what we meet with concerning them; a Tendency to be farther acquainted with them, by gathering every Circumstance of their Lives; a kind of Complacency in their Company, when we retire to enjoy what they have left; an Union with them in those Sentiments they approve; and an Endeavour to defend them, when we think they are injuriously attack'd, or even sometimes with too partial an Affection.
There is also in Mankind a Spirit of Envy or Opposition, which makes them uneasy to see others of the same Species seated far above them in a sort of Perfection. And this, at least so far as we speak of the Fame of Writers, has not always been known to dye with a Man entirely, but to pursue his Remains with idle Traditions, and weak Conjectures; so that his Name, which is not to be forgotten, shall be preserv'd only to be stain'd and blotted. The Controversy, which was carry'd on between the Author and his Enemies, while he yet was living, shall still be kept on foot; not entirely upon his own account, but on theirs who live after him; some being fond to praise extravagantly, and others as rashly eager to contradict his Admirers. This Proceeding, on both sides, gives us an Image of the first Descriptions of War, such as the
Iliad
affords; where a Heroe disputes the Field with an Army 'til it is his time to dye, and then the Battel, which we expected to fall of course, is renew'd about the Body; his Friends contending that they may embalm and honour it, his Enemies that they may cast it to the Dogs and Vultures.
There are yet others of a low kind of Taste, who, without any Malignity to the Character of a great Author, lessen the Dignity of their Subject by insisting too meanly upon little Particularities. They imagine it the Part of an Historian to omit nothing they meet concerning him whom they write upon; and gather every thing wherein he is nam'd, without any distinction, to the Prejudice or Neglect of the more noble Parts of his Character: Like those trifling Painters, or Sculptors, who bestow infinite Pains and Patience upon the most insignificant Parts of a Figure, 'till they sink the Grandeur of the Whole, by finishing every thing with the neatest Want of Judgment.
Besides these, there is a fourth sort of Men, who pretend to divest themselves of impetuous Emotions on both sides, and to get above that imperfect Idea of their Subject, which little Writers fall into; who propose to themselves a calm Search after Truth, and a rational Adherence to Probability in their historical Collections: Who neither wish to be led into the Fables of Poetry, nor are willing to support the Falsehoods of a malignant Criticism; but, endeavouring to steer in a middle way, have obtain'd a Character of failing least in the Choice of Materials for History, even from the darkest Ages.
Being therefore to write something concerning a Life, which there is little Prospect of our knowing, after it has been the fruitless Enquiry of so many Ages, and which has however been thus differently treated by Historians, I shall endeavour to speak of it, not as a Certainty, but as the Tradition, Opinion, or Collection of Authors, who have been suppos'd to write of
Homer
in these four preceding Methods, to which we shall also add some farther Conjectures of our own. After his Life has been thus rather spoken of than discover'd, I shall consider him historically as an Author, with regard to those Works which he has left behind him: In doing which, we may trace the degrees of Esteem they have obtain'd in different Periods of Time, and regulate our present Opinion of them, by a View of that Age in which they were written.
I.
Stories of
Homer,
which are the Effects of
extravagant Admiration.
I. If we take a View of
Homer
in those fabulous Traditions which the Admiration of the ancient Heathens has occasion'd, we find them running to Superstition, and multiply'd and independent on one another, in the different Accounts which are given with respect to
Aegypt
and
Greece,
the two native Countreys of Fable.
We have one in
Eustathius
in Od.
12.
Eustathius
most strangely fram'd, which
Alexander Paphius
has reported concerning
Homer
's Birth and Infancy. That
"He was born in
Aegypt
of
Dmasagoras
and
Aethra,
and brought up by a Daughter of
Orus,
the Priest of
Isis,
who was herself a Prophetess, and from whose Breasts Drops of Honey would frequently distil into the Mouth of the Infant. In the Night-time the first Sounds he utter'd were the Notes of nine several Birds: In the Morning he was found playing with nine Doves in the Bed: The
Sybil,
who attended him, us'd to be seiz'd with a poetical Fury, and utter Verses, in which she commanded
Dmasagoras
to build a Temple to the Muses: This he perform'd in Obedience to her Inspiration, and related all these things to the Child when he was grown up; who, in Memory of the Doves which play'd with him during his Infancy, has in his Works prefer'd this Bird to the Honour of bringing
Ambrosia
to
Jupiter.
"
One would think a Story of this Nature, so fit for Age to talk of, and Infancy to hear, were incapable of being handed down to us. But we find the Tradition again taken up to be heighten'd in one part, and carry'd forward in another.
Heliod. Aethiop.
l.
3.
Heliodorus,
who had heard of this Claim which
Aegypt
put in for
Homer,
endeavours to strengthen it by naming
Thebes
for the particular place of his Birth. He allows too, that a Priest was his reputed Father, but that his real Father, according to the Opinion of
Aegypt,
was
Mercury:
He says,
"That when the Priest was celebrating the Rites of his Countrey, and therefore slept with his Wife in the Temple, the God had knowledge of her, and begot
Homer:
That he was born with Tufts of Hair on his
, Femur.
Thigh, as a Sign of unlawful Generation, from whence he was called
Homer
by the Nations through which he wander'd: That he himself was the occasion why this Story of his divine Extraction is unknown; because he neither told his Name, Race, nor Countrey, being asham'd of his Exile, to which his reputed Father drove him from among the consecrated Youths, on account of that Mark which their Priests esteem'd a Testimony of an incestuous Birth."
These are the extravagant Stories by which Men, who have not been able to express how much they admire him, transcend the Bounds of Probability to say something extraordinary. The Mind, that becomes dazled with the Sight of his Performances, loses the common Idea of a Man in the fansy'd Splendor of Perfection: It sees nothing less than a God worthy to be his Father, nothing less than a Prophetess deserving to be his Nurse, and, growing unwilling that he should be spoken of in a Language beneath its Imaginations, delivers Fables in the place of History.
But whatever has thus been offer'd to support the Claim of
Aegypt,
they who plead for
Greece
are not to be accus'd for coming short of it. Their Fansie rose with a Refinement above what we are suppos'd to have of their Masters, and frequently the Veil of Fiction is wrought fine enough to be seen through, so that it hardly hides the Meaning it is made to cover, from the first Glance of the Imagination. For a Proof of this, we may mention that Poetical Genealogy which is deliver'd for
Homer
's, in the
Greek
Treatise of the Contention between him and
Hesiod,
and but little vary'd by the Relation of it in
Suidas.
"The Poet
Linus
(say they) was born of
Apollo
and
Thoose,
the Daughter of
Neptune. Pierus
of
Linus: Oeagrus
of King
Pierus
and the Nymph
Methone: Orpheus
of
Oeagrus
and the Muse
Calliope.
From
Orpheus
came
Othrys:
from him
Harmonides:
from him
Philoterpus:
from him
Euphemus:
from him
Epiphrades,
who begot
Menalops,
the Father of
Dius: Dius
had
Hesiod
the Poet and
Perses
by
Pucamede,
the Daughter of
Apollo.
Then
Perses
had
Maeon,
on whose Daughter
Crytheis,
the River
Meles
begot
Homer.
"
Here we behold a wonderful Genealogy contriv'd industriously to raise our Idea to the highest, where Gods, Goddesses, Muses, Kings, and Poets link in a descent; nay, where Poets are made to depend, as it were, in Clusters upon the same Stalk beneath one another. If we consider too that
Harmonides
is deriv'd from Harmony,
Philoterpus
from love of Delight,
Euphemus
from beautiful Diction,
Epiphrades
from Intelligence, and
Pucamede
from Prudence; it may not be improbable, but the Inventors meant, by a Fiction of this Nature, to turn such Qualifications into Persons as were agreeable to his Character, for whom the Line was drawn: So that every thing, Divine or Great, will thus come together by the extravagant Indulgence of Fancy, while it turns itself sometimes to Admiration, and sometimes to Allegory.
After this fabulous Tree of his Pedigree, we may regularly view him in one Passage concerning his Birth, which, though it differs in a Circumstance from what has been here deliver'd, yet carries on the same Air, and regards the same Traditions. There is a short Life of
Homer
attributed to
Plutarch,
wherein a third part of
Aristotle
on Poetry, which is now lost, is quoted for an account of his uncommon Birth, in this manner.
"At the time when
Neleus,
the Son of
Codrus,
led the Colony which was sent into
Ionia,
there was in the Island of
Io
a young Girl, compress'd by a
Genius,
who delighted to associate with the
Muses,
and share in their Consorts. She, finding herself with Child, and being touch'd with the Shame of what had happen'd to her, remov'd from thence to a Place call'd
Aegina.
There she was taken in an Excursion made by Robbers, and being brought to
Smyrna,
which was then under the
Lydians,
they gave her to
Maeon
the King, who marry'd her upon account of her Beauty. But while she walk'd on the Bank of the River
Meles,
she brought forth
Homer
and expir'd. The Infant was taken by
Maeon,
and bred up as his Son, 'till the Death of that Prince."
And from this Point of the Story the Poet is let down into his traditional Poverty. Here we see, tho' he be taken out of the Lineage of
Meles
where we met him before, he has still as wonderful a Rise invented for him; he is still to spring from a
Demigod,
one who was of a Poetical Disposition, from whom he might inherit a Soul turn'd to Poetry, and receive an Assistance of heavenly Inspiration.
In his Life the most general Tradition concerning him is his
Blindness,
yet there are some who will not allow even this to have happen'd after the manner in which it falls upon other Men: Chance and Sickness are excluded; nothing less than Gods and Heroes must be visibly concern'd about him. Thus we find among the different Accounts which
Hermias
in Phaed. Plat.
Leo Allat.
de Patr. Hom. C.
Hermias
has collected concerning his Blindness, that when
Homer
resolv'd to write of
Achilles,
he had an exceeding Desire to fill his Mind with a just Idea of so glorious a Heroe: Wherefore, having paid all due Honours at his Tomb, he intreats that he may obtain a sight of him. The Heroe grants his Poet's Petition, and rises in a glorious Suit of Armour, which cast so unsufferable a Splendor, that
Homer
lost his Eyes, while he gaz'd for the Enlargement of his Notions.
If this be any thing more than a meer Fable, one would be apt to imagine it insinuated his contracting a Blindness by too intense an Application while he wrote his
Iliad.
But it is a very pompous way of letting us into the Knowledge of so short a Truth: It looks as if Men imagin'd the Lives of Poets should be Poetically written; that to speak plainly of them, were to speak contemptibly; or that we debase them, when they are plac'd in less glorious Company than those exalted Spirits which they themselves have been fond to celebrate. We may however in some measure be reconcil'd to this last idle Fable, for having occasion'd so beautiful an
Episode
in the
Ambra
of
Politian.
That which does not inform us in a History, may please us in its proper Sphere of Poetry.
II.
Stories of
Homer
proceeding from
Envy.
II. Such Stories as these have been the Effects of a superstitious Fondness, and of our Astonishment at what we consider in a View of Perfection. But neither have all Men the same Taste, nor do they equally submit to the Superiority of others, nor bear that human Nature, which they know to be imperfect, should be prais'd in an Extream without opposition. From some Principles of this kind have arisen a second sort of Stories, which glance at
Homer
with malignant Suppositions, and endeavour to throw a diminishing Air over his Life, as a kind of Answer to those who sought to aggrandize him injudiciously.
Under this Head we may reckon those ungrounded Conjectures with which his Adversaries asperse the very Design and Prosecution of his Travels, when they insinuate, that they were one continued Search after Authors who had written before him, and particularly upon the same Subject, in order to destroy them, or to rob them of their Inventions.
Thus we read in
Diod. Sic.
l.
4.
Diodorus Siculus,
"That there was one
Daphne,
the Daughter of
Tiresias,
who from her Inspirations obtain'd the Title of a
Sybil.
She had a very extraordinary Genius, and being made Priestess at
Delphos,
wrote Oracles with wonderful Elegance, which
Homer
sought for, and adorn'd his Poems with several of her Verses."
But she is plac'd so far in the fabulous Age of the World, that nothing can be averr'd of her: And as for the Verses now ascrib'd to the
Sybils,
they are more modern than to be able to confirm the Story; which, as it is universally assented to, discovers that whatever there is in them in common with
Homer,
the Compilers have rather taken from him; perhaps to strengthen the Authority of their Work by the Protection of this Tradition.
The next Insinuation we hear is from
Suidas,
that
Palamedes,
who fought at
Troy,
was famous for Poetry, and wrote concerning that War in the
Dorick
Letter which he invented, probably much against
Agamemnon
and
Ulysses,
his mortal Enemies. Upon this Account some have fancy'd his Works were suppress'd by
Agamemnon
's Posterity, or that their entire Destruction was contriv'd and effected by
Homer
when he undertook the same Subject. But surely the Works of so considerable a Man, when they had been able to bear up so long a time as that which pass'd between the Siege of
Troy,
and the flourishing of
Homer,
must have been too much dispers'd, for one of so mean a Condition as he is represented, to have destroy'd in every place, tho' he had been never so much assisted by the vigilant Temper of Envy. And we may say too, that what might have been capable of raising this Principle in him, must be capable of being in some measure esteem'd, and of having at least one Line of it preserv'd to us.
After him, in the order of time, we meet with a whole Set of Names, to whom the Maligners of
Homer
would have him oblig'd, without being able to prove their Assertion.
Suidas
mentions
Corinnus Iliensis,
the Secretary of
Palamedes,
who writ a Poem upon the same Subject, but no one is produc'd as having seen it.
Tzetzes
Chil.
5.
Hist.
29.
Tzetzes
mentions (and from
Johannes Melala
only)
Sisyphus
the
Coan,
Secretary of
Teucer,
but it is not so much as known if he writ Verse or Prose. Besides these, are
Dictys
the
Cretan,
Secretary to
Idomeneus,
and
Dares
the
Phrygian
an Attendant of
Hector,
who have spurious Treatises passing under their Names. From each of these is
Homer
said to have borrow'd his whole Argument; so inconsistent are these Stories with one another.
The next Names we find, are
Demodocus,
whom
Homer
might have met at
Corcyra,
and
Phemius,
whom he might have met at
Ithaca:
the one (as
Plutarch
on Musick.
Plutarch
says) having according to Tradition written the War at
Troy,
the other the
Return
of the
Grecian
Captains. But these are only two Names of Friends, which he is pleas'd to honour with Eternity in his Poem, or two different Pictures of himself, as Author of the
Iliad
and
Odysses,
or entirely the Children of his Imagination, without any particular Allusion. So that his Usage here, puts me in mind of his own
Vulcan
in the
Iliad 18.
Iliad:
The God had cast two Statues which he endued with the Power of Motion; and it is said presently after, that he is scarce able to go unless they support him.
It is reported by some, says
Ptol. Eph.
Excerpt. apud Photium. l.
5.
Ptolomaeus Ephestio,
"That there was before
Homer,
a Woman of
Memphis,
call'd
Phantasia,
who writ of the Wars of
Troy,
and the Wandrings of
Ulysses.
Now
Homer
arriving at
Memphis
where she had laid up her Works, and getting acquainted with
Phanitas,
whose Business it was to copy the sacred Writings, he obtain'd a sight of these, and follow'd entirely the Scheme she had drawn."
But this is a wild Story, which speaks of an
Aegyptian
Woman with a
Greek
Name, and who never was heard of but upon this account. It appears indeed from his Knowledge of the
Aegyptian
Learning, that he was initiated into their Mysteries, and for ought we know by one
Phanitas.
But if we consider what the Name of the Woman signifies, it seems only as if from being us'd in a figurative Expression, it had been mistaken afterwards for a proper Name. And then the Meaning will be, that having gather'd as much Information concerning the
Grecian
and
Trojan
Story, as he could be furnish'd with from the Accounts of
Aegypt,
which were generally mix'd with Fancy and Fable, he wrought out his Plans of the
Iliad
and the
Odysses.
We pass all these Stories, together with the
little Iliad
of
Siagrus,
mention'd by
Aelian,
l.
14.
c.
21.
Aelian.
But one cannot leave this Subject without reflecting on the depreciating Humour, and odd Industry of Man, which shews itself in raising such a Number of Insinuations that clash with each other, and in spiriting up such a Crowd of unwarranted Names to support them. Nor can we but admire at the contradictory Nature of this Proceeding, that Names of Works, which either never were in Being, or never worthy to live, should be produc'd, only to persuade us that the most lasting and beautiful Poem of the Ancients was taken out of them. A Beggar might be content to patch up a Garment with such Shreds as the World throws away, but it is never to be imagin'd an Emperor would make his Robes of them.
After
Homer
had spent a considerable time in Travel, we find him towards his Age introduc'd to such an Action as tends to his Disparagement. It is not enough to accuse him for spoiling the dead, they raise a living Author by whom he must be baffled in that Qualification on which his Fame is founded.
There is in
Hesiod
Op. & dicrum, l.
2.
v.
272, &c.
Hesiod
an Account of an ancient Poetical Contention at the Funeral of
Amphidamas,
in which, he says, he obtain'd the Prize, but does not mention from whom he carry'd it. There is also among the
Hom.
Hymn.
2.
ad Venerem.
Hymns
ascribed to
Homer,
a Prayer to
Venus,
for Success in a Poetical Dispute, but it neither mentions where, nor against whom. But though they have neglected to name their Antagonists, others have since taken care to fill up the Stories by putting them together. The making two such considerable Names in Poetry engage, carries an amusing Pomp in it, like making two Heroes of the first Rank enter the Lists of Combat. And if
Homer
and
Hesiod
had their Parties among the
Grammarians,
here was an excellent Opportunity for
Hesiod
's Favourers to make a Sacrifice of
Homer.
Hence might a bare Conjecture spread into a
Tradition,
then the Tradition give occasion to an
Epigram,
which is yet extant, and again the
Epigram
(for want of knowing the Time it was writ in) be alledg'd as a
Proof
of that Conjecture from whence it sprung. After this, a
whole Treatise was written upon it, which appears not very ancient, because it mentions
Adrian:
The Story agrees in the main with the short Account we find in
Plut.
Banquet of the seven wise Men.
Plutarch,
"That
Ganictor,
the Son of
Amphidamas,
King of
Euboea,
being us'd to celebrate his Father's funeral Games, invited from all Parts Men famous for Strength and Wisdom. Among these
Homer
and
Hesiod
arriv'd at
Chalcis.
The King
Panidas
presided over the Contest, which being finish'd, he decreed the
Tripos
to
Hesiod,
with this Elogy in the Sentence, That the Poet of Peace and Husbandry better deserv'd to be crown'd, than he who stirs us up to War and Contention. Whereupon
Hesiod
dedicated the Prize to the Muses, with this Inscription,
"
"
"
Which are two Lines taken from that Place in
Hesiod
where he mentions no Antagonist, and alter'd, that the two Names might be brought in, as is evident by comparing them with these,
To answer this Story, we take notice that
Hesiod
is generally plac'd after
Homer. Graevius,
his own Commentator, sets him a hundred Years lower; and whether he were so or no, yet
Plut.
Symp. l.
5. §. 2.
Plutarch
has slightly pass'd the whole Account as a Fable. Nay, we may draw an Argument against it from
Hesiod
himself: He had a Love of Fame which caus'd him to engage at the Funeral Games, and which went so far as to make him record his Conquest in his own Works; Had he defeated
Homer,
the same Principle would have made him mention a Name that could have secur'd his own to Immortality. A Poet who records his Glory, would not omit the noblest Circumstance, and
Homer,
like a Captive Prince, had certainly grac'd the Triumph of his Adversary.
Towards the latter end of his Life, there is another Story invented, which makes him conclude it in a manner altogether beneath the Greatness of a Genius. We find in the Life said to be written by
Plutarch,
a Tradition,
"That he was warn'd by an Oracle to beware of the young Mens Riddle. This remain'd long obscure to him, 'til he arriv'd at the Island
Io.
There as he sat to behold the Fishermen, they propos'd to him a Riddle in Verse, which he being unable to answer, dy'd for Grief."
This Story refutes itself by carrying Superstition at one end, and Folly at the other. It seems conceiv'd with an Air of Derision to lay a great Man in the Dust after a foolish Manner. The same sort of Hand might have fram'd that Tale of
Aristotle
's drowning himself because he could not account for the
Euripus:
The Design is the same, the Turn the same; and all the difference, that the great Men are each to suffer in his Character, the one by a
Poetical Riddle,
the other by a
Philosophical Problem.
But these are Actions which can only proceed from the Meanness of Pride, or Extravagance of Madness: A Soul enlarg'd with Knowledge (so vastly as was that of
Homer
) better knows the proper Stress which is to be laid upon every Incident, and the Proportion of Concern, or Carelesness, with which it ought to be affected. But it is the Fate of narrow Capacities to measure Mankind by a false Standard, and imagine the Great, like themselves, capable of being disconcerted by little Occasions; to frame their malignant Fables according to this Imagination, and to stand detected by it as by an evident Mark of Ignorance.
III.
Stories of
Homer
proceeding from
trifling Curiosity.
III. The third Manner in which the Life of
Homer
has been written, is but a heaping of all the Traditions and Hints which the Writers could meet with, great or little, in order to tell a Story of him to the World. Perhaps the want of choice Materials might put them upon the Necessity; or perhaps an injudicious Desire of saying all they could, occasion'd the fault. However it be, a Life compos'd of trivial Circumstances, which (tho' it give a true account of several Passages) has but little of that Appearance in which a Man was most famous, and hardly any thing correspondent to the Idea we entertain of him: Such a Life, I say, will never answer rightly the demand the World has upon an Historian. Yet the most formal Account we have of
Homer
is of this Nature, I mean that which is said to be collected by
Herodotus.
It is, in short, an unsupported minute Treatise, compos'd of Events which lie within the Compass of Probability, and belong to the lowest Sphere of Life. It seems through all its Frame to be entirely conducted by the Spirit of a
Grammarian,
ever abounding with
extempore Verses,
as if it were to prove a thing so unquestionable as our Author's Title to Rapture; and at the same time the Occasions are so poorly invented, that they misbecome the Warmth of a Poetical Imagination. There is nothing in it above the Life which a
Grammarian
might lead himself; nay, it is but such an one as they commonly do lead, the highest Stage of which is to be
Master of a School.
But because this is a Treatise to which Writers have had recourse for want of a better, I shall give the following Abstract.
Homer
was born at
Smyrna,
about one hundred sixty eight Years after the Siege of
Troy,
and six hundred twenty two Years before the
Expedition
of
Xerxes.
His Mother's Name was
Crytheis,
who proving unlawfully with Child, was sent away from
Cumae
by her Uncle, with
Ismenias,
one of those who led the Colony to
Smyrna
then building. A while after, as she was celebrating a Festival with other Women on the Banks of the River
Meles,
she was deliver'd of
Homer,
whom she therefore nam'd
Melesigenes.
Upon this she left
Ismenias,
and supported herself by Working, 'til
Phemius
(who taught a School in
Smyrna
) fell in love with her, and marry'd her. But both dying in process of Time, the School fell to
Homer,
who manag'd it with such Wisdom, that he was universally admir'd both by Natives and Strangers. Amongst these latter was
Mentes,
a Master of a Ship from
Leucadia,
by whose Persuasions and Promises he gave up his School, and went to travel: With him he visited
Spain
and
Italy,
but was left behind at
Ithaca
upon account of a Defluxion in his Eyes. During his Stay he was entertain'd by one
Mentor,
a Man of Fortune, Justice, and Hospitality, and learn'd the principal Incidents of
Ulysses
's Life. But at the Return of
Mentes,
he went from thence to
Colophon,
where, his Defluxion renewing, he fell entirely blind. Upon this he could think of no better Expedient than to go back to
Smyrna,
where perhaps he might be supported by those who knew him, and have the leisure to addict himself to Poetry. But there he found his Poverty encrease, and his hopes of Encouragement fail; so that he remov'd for
Cumae,
and by the way was entertain'd for some time at the House of one
Tychius
a Leather-Dresser. At
Cumae
his Poems were wonderfully admir'd, but when he propos'd to eternize their Town if they would allow him a Sallary, he was answer'd, That there would be no end of maintaining all the
, or
blind Men,
and hence he got the Name of
Homer.
From
Cumae
he went to
Phocaea,
where one
Thestorides
(a School-master also) offer'd to maintain him if he would suffer him to transcribe his Verses: This
Homer
complying with for meer Necessity, the other had no sooner gotten them, but he remov'd to
Chois;
There the Poems gain'd him Wealth and Honour, while the Author himself hardly earn'd his Bread by repeating them. At last, some who came from
Chios
having told the People that the same Verses were publish'd there by a School-master,
Homer
resolv'd to find him out. Having therefore landed near that Place, he was receiv'd by one
Glaucus
a Shepherd (at whose Door he had like to have been worried by Dogs) and carry'd by him to his Master at
Bollissus,
who admiring his Knowledge, entrusted him with the Education of his Children. Here his Praise began to spread, and
Thestorides,
who heard of his Neighbourhood, fled before him. He remov'd however some time afterwards to
Chois,
where he set up a School of Poetry, gain'd a competent Fortune, marry'd a Wife, and had two Daughters, the one of which dy'd young, the other was marry'd to his Patron at
Bollissus.
Here he inserted in his Poems the Names of those to whom he had been most oblig'd, as,
Mentes, Phemius, Mentor,
and
Tychius:
and resolving for
Athens,
he made honourable mention of that City, to prepare the
Athenians
for a kind Reception. But as he went, the Ship put in at
Samos,
where he continu'd the whole Winter, singing at the Houses of great Men, with a Train of Boys after him. In Spring he went on board again in order to prosecute his Journey to
Athens,
but landing by the way at
Ios,
he fell sick, dy'd, and was bury'd on the Sea-Shore.
This is the Life of
Homer
ascrib'd to
Herodotus,
tho' it is wonderful it should be so, since it evidently contradicts his own
History,
by placing
Homer
six hundred twenty two Years before the Expedition of
Xerxes;
whereas
Herodotus
himself, who was alive at the time of that Expedition, says
Homer
was only
Herod.
l.
2.
four hundred Years before him. However, if we can imagin that there may be any thing of Truth in the main Parts of this Treatise, we may gather these general Observations from it: That he shew'd a great Thirst of Knowledge, by undertaking such long and numerous Travels; That he manifested an unexampled Vigor of Mind, by being able to write with more Fire under the Disadvantages of Blindness, and the utmost Poverty, than any Poet after him in better Circumstances; And that he had an unlimited Sense of Fame (the Attendant of noble Spirits) which prompted him to engage in new Travels, both under these Disadvantages, and the additional Burthen of old Age.
But it will not perhaps be either improper or difficult to make some Conjectures, which seem to lay open the Foundation from whence the Traditions which frame the low Lives of
Homer
have arisen. In the first place we may consider, That there are no Historians of his Time (or none handed down to us) who have mention'd him; and that he has never spoken plainly of himself, in those Works which have been ascrib'd to him without Controversy. However, an eager Desire to know something concerning him has occasion'd Mankind to labour the Point under these Disadvantages, and turn on all Hands to see if there were any thing left which might have the least Appearance of Information. Upon the Search, they find no Remains but his
Name
and
Works,
and resolve to torture these upon the Rack of Invention, in order to give some account of the Person they belong to.
The first Thing therefore they settle is, That what pass'd for his
Name,
must be his
Name
no longer, but an
additional Title
us'd instead of it. The reason why it was given, must be some Accident of his Life. Having thus found an end of the Clue, they proceed to consider every thing that the word may imply by its Derivation. One finds that
signifies a
Thigh;
whence arises the Tradition in
Hel.
l.
3.
Heliodorus,
that he was banish'd
Aegypt
for the Mark on that Part, which shew'd a spurious Birth; and this they imagine ground enough to give him the Life of a Wanderer. A second finds that
signifies an
Hostage,
and then he must be deliver'd as such in a War (according to
Proc.
vis.
Hom.
Proclus
) between
Smyrna
and
Chios.
A third can derive the Name
,
non videns,
from whence he must be a
blind Man
(as in the Piece ascrib'd to
Herod.
vit.
Hom.
Herodotus.
) A fourth brings him from
,
speaking
in
Council;
and then (as it is in
Suidas
) he must, by a divine Inspiration, declare to the
Smyrnaeans,
that they should war against
Colophon.
A fifth finds the word may be brought to signify
following others,
or
joining himself
to them, and then he must be call'd
Homer
for saying (as it is quoted from
Plut.
vit.
Hom.
Aristotle
in the Life ascrib'd to
Plutarch
) that he would
, or
follow
the
Lydians
from
Smyrna.
Thus has the Name been turn'd and winded enough at least to give a Suspicion, that he who got a
new Etymology,
got a handle either for a
new Life
of him, or something which he added to the old one.
However, the
Name
itself not affording enough to furnish out a whole Life, his
Works
must be brought in for Assistance, and it is taken for granted, That where he has not spoken of himself, he lies veil'd beneath the Persons or Actions of those whom he describes. Because he calls a Poet by the Name of
Phemius
in his
Odysses,
they conclude this
Herod.
vit.
Hom.
Phemius
was his Master. Because he speaks of
Demodocus
as another Poet who was blind, and frequented Palaces, he must be sent about
Ibid.
blind, to sing at the Doors of rich Men. If
Ulysses
be set upon by Dogs at his Shepherd's Cottage, because this is a low Adventure, it is thought to be his own at
Bollissus.
Ibid.
And if he calls the Leather-dresser, who made
Ajax
's Shield, by the Name of
Tychius,
he has been supported by such an one in his Wants: Nay, some have been so violently carry'd into this way of conjecturing, that the bare
Vid. M.
Dacier
's Life of
Homer.
Simile
of a Woman who works hard for her Livelihood, is said to have been borrow'd from his Mother's Condition, and brought as a Proof of it. Thus he is still imagin'd to intend himself; and the Fictions of Poetry, converted into real Facts, are deliver'd for his Life, who has assign'd them to others. All those Stories in his Works which suit with a mean Condition are suppos'd to have happen'd to him, tho' the same way of Inference might as well prove him to have acted in a higher Sphere, from the many Passages that shew his Skill in Government, and his Knowledge of the great Parts of Life.
There are some other scatter'd Stories of
Homer
which fall not under these Heads, but are however of as trifling a Nature; as much unfit for the Materials of History, still more ungrounded, if possible, and arising merely from Chance, or the Humours of Men: Such is the Report we meet with from
Diogenes Lacrtius
ex
Heracl.
in vita
Socratis.
Heraclides,
That
"
Homer
was fin'd at
Athens
for a Madman;"
which seems invented by the Disciples of
Socrates
to cast an Odium upon the
Athenians
for their consenting to the Death of their Master, and carries in it something like a declaiming Revenge of the Schools, as if the World should imagine the
one
could be esteem'd
mad,
where the
other
was put to Death for being
wicked.
Such another Report is that in
Aelian.
l.
9.
cap.
15.
Aelian,
That
"
Homer
portion'd his Daughter with some of his Works for want of Money;"
which looks but like a Whim deliver'd in the Gaiety of Fancy; a Jest upon a poor Wit, which at first might have had an Epigrammatist for its Father, and been afterwards gravely understood by some painful Collector. In short, Mankind have labour'd heartily about him to no purpose; they have caught up every thing greedily, with that busy minute Curiosity and unsatisfactory Inquisitiveness which
Seneca
calls the
Disease of the
Greeks; they have puzzled the Cause by their Attempts to find it out; and, like Travellers entirely destitute of a Road, yet resolv'd to make it over unpassable Deserts, they superinduce Error, instead of removing Ignorance.
IV.
Probable Conjectures concerning
Homer.
IV. Whenever Men have set themselves to write a Life of
Homer,
clear from Superstition, Envy, and Trifling, they have grown asham'd of all these Traditions. This, however, has not occasion'd every one to desist from the Undertaking; but still the Difficulty which could not make them desist, has necessitated them, either to deliver the old Story with Excuses; or else, instead of a Life, to compose a Treatise partly of
Criticism,
and partly of
Character;
rather descriptive, than supported by Action, and the Air of History.
His
Time.
They begin with letting us know, that the
Time
in which he liv'd has never been fix'd beyond dispute, and that the Opinions of Authors are various concerning it: But the Controversy, in its several Conjectures, includes a Space of Years between the earliest and latest, from twenty four to about five hundred after the Siege of
Troy.
Whenever the Time was, it seems not to have been near that Siege, from his own
.
Iliad
2.
Invocation
of the
Muses
to recount the Catalogue of the Ships:
"For we, says he, have only heard a Rumour, and know nothing particularly."
It is remark'd by
Hic longe à temporibus belli quod composuit, Troici, quàm quidam rentur, abfuit. Nam fermè ante annos 950 floruit, intra mille natus est: (quo nomine non est mirandum quod saepe illud usurpat,
. Hôc enim ut
hominum
ita
saeculorum
notatur differentia.
Vell. Paterc.
lib. 1.
Velleius Paterculus,
That it must have been considerably later, from his own Confession, that Mankind was but half as strong in his Age, as in that he writ of; which, as it is founded upon a Notion of a gradual Degeneracy in our Nature, discovers the Interval to have been long between
Homer
and his Subject. But not to trouble our selves with entring into all the dry Dispute, we may here take notice, that the World is inclin'd to stand by the
Vide
Dacier, Du Pin,
&c. concerning the
Arundelian Marble.
Arundelian Marble,
as the most certain Computation of those early Times; and this, by placing him at the time when
Diognetus
rul'd in
Athens,
makes him flourish a little before the
Olympiads
were establish'd; about three hundred Years after the taking of
Troy,
and near a thousand before the
Christian Aera.
For a farther Confirmation of this, we have some great Names of Antiquity, who give him a Cotemporary agreeing with the Computation.
Cicero
Qu. Tuscul. l.
5.
Cicero
says, There was a Tradition that
Homer
liv'd about the time of
Lycurgus.
Strabo,
l.
10.
Strabo
tells us, It was reported that
Lycurgus
went to
Chios
for an Interview with him. And even
Plut.
vitâ
Lycurgi.
Plutarch,
when he says,
Lycurgus
receiv'd
Homer
's Works from the Grandson of that
Creophilus
with whom he had liv'd, does not put him so far backward, but that possibly they might have been alive together.
His
Country.
The next Dispute regards his
Country,
concerning which,
,
of
Adrian
's Oracle.
Adrian
enquir'd of the Gods, as a Question not to be settled by Men; and
Appion
(according to
Plin.
l.
30.
cap.
2.
Pliny
) rais'd a Spirit for his Information. That which has encreas'd the difficulty, is the Number of contesting Places, of which
Suidas
has reckon'd up nineteen in one Breath. But his ancient Commentator,
Seneca
Ep.
88.
concerning
Didymus.
Didymus,
found the Subject so fertile, as to employ a great Part of his four thousand Volumes upon it. There is a Prophecy of the
Sybils
that he should be born at
Salamis
in
Cyprus;
and then to play an Argument of the same Nature against it, there is the
Oracle
given to
Adrian
afterwards, that says he was born in
Ithaca.
There are
Customs
of
Aeolia
and
Aegypt
cited from his Works, to make out by turns, and with the same Probability, that he belong'd to each of them. There was a School shew'd for his at
Colophon,
and a
Tomb
at
Io,
both of equal Strength to prove he had his Birth in either. As for the
Athenians,
they challeng'd him as born where they had a
Colony;
or else in behalf of
Greece
in general, and as the
Metropolis
of its Learning, they made his Name free of their City, (
qu. Liciniâ & Mutiâ lege,
says
Politian.
Pref. in
Homerum.
Politian
) after the manner of that Law by which all
Italy
became free of
Rome.
All these have their Authors to record their Titles, but still the Weight of the Question seems to lie between
Smyrna
and
Chios,
which we must therefore take a little more notice of. That
Homer
then was born at
Smyrna
is endeavour'd to be prov'd by an
Epigram
on
Pisistratus
in the anonymous Life before
Homer.
Epigram,
recorded to have been under the Statue of
Pisistratus
at
Athens;
by the Reports mention'd in
Cicero, Strabo,
and
A. Gellius;
and by the Greek Lives, which are prefix'd to him with the Names of
Herodotus, Plutarch,
and
Proclus;
as also the two that are anonymous. For this the
Vitruvius Proem.
l.
7.
Smyrnaeans
built him a Temple, cast Medals of him, and grew so possest of his having been theirs, that it is said they burn'd
Zoilus
for affronting them in the Person of
Homer.
On the other hand, the
Chians
plead the ancient Authorities of
Simonides
Frag. de brevitat. Vitae, quoting a Verse of
Homer,
Simonides
and
Theocritus
in
Dioscuris,
—
—
Theocritus
for his being born among them. They mention a Race they had, call'd the
Homeridae,
whom they reckon'd his Posterity; they cast Medals of him; they shew to this Day an
Homaerium,
or Temple of
Homer,
near
Bollissus;
and close their Arguments with a Quotation from the
Hymn
to
Apollo
(which is acknowledg'd for
Homer
's by
Thucyd.
lib.
3.
Thucydides
) where he calls himself,
"The blind Man that inhabits
Chios.
"
The Reader has here the Sum of the large Treatise of
Leo Allatius,
written particularly on this Subject
Leo Allatius
de Patria
Homeri.
, in which, after having separately weigh'd the Pretensions of all, he concludes for
Chios.
For my part, I determine nothing in a Point of so much Uncertainty; neither which of these was honour'd with his Birth, nor whether any of them was, nor, again, whether each may not have produc'd his own
Homer;
since
Xenophon
de Aequivocis.
Xenophon
says, there were many of the Name. But one cannot avoid being surpriz'd at the prodigious Veneration of his Character, which could engage Mankind with such Eagerness in a Point so little essential; that Kings should send to Oracles for the Enquiry of his Birth-place; that Cities should be in Strife about it, and whole Lives of learned Men employ'd upon it; that some should write Treatises concerning it; that others should call up Spirits unavailingly; that thus, in short, Heaven, Earth and Hell should be sought to, for the Decision of a Question which terminates in Curiosity only.
His
Parents.
If we endeavour to find the
Parents
of
Homer,
we immediately perceive the Search is fruitless.
Plut.
vitâ
Hom.
ex
Ephoro.
Ephorus
has made
Maeon
to be his Father, by a Niece whom he deflour'd; and this has so far obtain'd, as to give him the derivative Name of
Maeonides.
His Mother (if we allow the Story of
Maeon
) is call'd
Crytheis:
But we are lost again in Uncertainty if we search farther; for
Suidas
has mention'd
Eumetis
or
Polycaste;
and
Pausanias,
l.
10.
Pausanias, Clymene
or
Themisto;
which happens, because the contesting Countrys find out Mothers of their own for him. Tradition has in this case afforded us no more Light, than what may serve to shew its Shadows in a Confusion; they strike the Sight with so equal a Probability, that we are in doubt which to chuse, and must pass the Question undecided.
His
Name.
If we enquire concerning his own
Name,
even that is doubted of. He has been call'd
Melesigenes
from the River where he was born.
Homer
has been reckon'd an ascititious Name, from some Accident in his Life: The
Certamen Homericum
calls him once
Auletes,
perhaps from his musical Genius; and
Lucian
's true History, l.
2.
Lucian, Tigranes;
it may be from a Confusion with that
Tigranes
or
Suidas
de
Tigrete.
Tigretes,
who was Brother of Queen
Artemisia,
and whose Name has been so far mingled with his, as to make him be esteem'd Author of some of the lesser Works which are ascrib'd to
Homer.
It may not be amiss to close these Criticisms with that agreeable Derision wherewith
Lucian
treats the over-busy Humour of Grammarians in their Search after minute and impossible Enquiries, when he feigns, that he had talk'd over the Point with
Homer
in the
Island of the Blessed.
"I ask'd him, says he, of what Country he was? a Question hard to be resolv'd with Us: to which he answer'd, He could not certainly tell, because some had inform'd him, that he was of
Chios,
some of
Smyrna,
and others of
Colophon;
but he took himself for a
Babylonian;
called
Tigranes,
while he liv'd among his Country-men, and
Homer,
while he was an Hostage among the
Graecians.
"
His
Blindness
At his Birth he appears not to have been
blind,
whatever he might be afterwards. The
The Medal is exhibited at the beginning of this Essay.
Chian
Medal of him (which is of great Antiquity, according to
Leo Allatius
) seats him with a Volume open, and reading intently: But there is no need of Proofs from Antiquity for that which every Line of his Works will demonstrate. With what an Exactness, agreeable to the natural Appearance of Things, do his Cities stand, his Mountains rise, his Rivers wind, and his Regions lie extended? How beautifully are the Surfaces of all things drawn in their Figures, and adorn'd with their Paintings? What Address in Action, what visible Characters of the Passions inspirit his Heroes? It is not to be imagin'd, that a Man could have been always blind, who thus inimitably copies Nature, who gives every where the proper Proportion, Figure, Colour, and Life:
"
Quem si quis caecum genitum putat
(says
Paterculus,
l.
1.
Paterculus
)
omnibus sensibus orbus est:
"
He must certainly have beheld the Creation, consider'd it with a long Attention, and enrich'd his Fancy by the most sensible Knowledge of those Ideas which he makes the Reader see while he but describes them.
His
Education
and
Master.
As he grew forward in Years, he was train'd up to Learning (if we credit
Diod. Sic.
l.
3.
Diodorus
) under one
"
Pronapides,
a Man of excellent natural Endowments, who taught the
Pelasgick
Letter invented by
Linus.
"
From him might he learn to preserve his Poetry by committing it to Writing; which we mention, because it is generally believ'd
Joseph.
cont.
Apion,
l.
1.
no Poems before his were so preserv'd; and he himself in the third Line of his
Batrochomuomachia
(if that Piece be allow'd to be his) expressly speaks of
—
Batroch.
writing his Works in his
Tablets.
His
Travels.
When he was of riper Years, for his farther Accomplishment, and the Gratification of his Thirst of Knowledge, he spent a considerable part of his time in travelling. Upon which account,
Procl.
vita
Hom.
Proclus
has taken notice that he must have abounded in Riches:
"For long Travels, says he, occasion high Expences, and especially at those times when Men could neither sail without imminent Danger and Inconveniences, nor had a regulated manner of Commerce with one another."
This way of reasoning appears very probable; and if it does not prove him to have been rich, it shews him, at least, to have had Patrons of a generous Spirit, who, observing the Vastness of his Capacity, believ'd themselves beneficent to Mankind, while they supported one who seem'd born for something extraordinary.
Aegypt
being at that time the Seat of Learning, the greatest Wits and Genius's of
Greece
us'd to travel thither. Among these
Diod Sic.
l.
1.
Diodorus
reckons
Homer,
and to strengthen his Opinion, alledges that Multitude of their Notions which he has receiv'd into his Poetry, and of their Customs, to which he alludes in his Fictions: Such as his
Gods,
which are nam'd from the first
Aegyptian Kings;
the Number of the
Muses
taken from the
nine Minstrels
which attended
Osyris;
the
Feast
wherein they us'd to send their Statues of the Deities into
Aethiopia,
and to return after twelve Days; and the carrying their
dead Bodies
over the Lake to a pleasant Place call'd
Acherusia
near
Memphis,
from whence arose the Stories of
Charon, Styx,
and
Elysium.
These are Notions which so abound in him, as to make
Herodot.
l.
2.
Herodotus
say, He had introduc'd from thence the
Religion
of
Greece.
And if others have believ'd he was an
Aegyptian,
from his Knowledge of their Rites and Traditions which were reveal'd but to few; and of the Arts and Customs which were practis'd among them in general; it may prove at least thus much, that he was there in his Travels.
As
Greece
was in all Probability his native Country, and had then began to make an Effort for Learning, we cannot doubt but he travel'd there also, with a particular Observation. He uses the different
Dialects
which were spoken in its different Parts, as one who had been conversant with them all. But the Argument which appears most irrefragable, is to be taken from his
Catalogue
of the
Ships:
He has there given us an exact
Geography
of
Greece;
where its Cities, Mountains, and Plains, are particularly mention'd; where the Courses of its Rivers are trac'd out; where the Countrys are laid in order, their Bounds assign'd, and the uses of their Soils specify'd; which the Ancients, who compar'd it with the Original, have allow'd to be so true in all Points, that it could never have been owing to a loose and casual Information. Even
Strabo
's Account of
Greece
is but a kind of Commentary upon
Homer
's.
We may carry this Argument farther, to suppose his having been round
Asia Minor,
from his exact Division of the
Regnum Priami vetus
(as
Horace
calls it) into its separate
Dynasties,
and the Account he gives of the bordering Nations in Alliance with it. Perhaps too, in the Wandrings of
Ulysses
about
Sicily,
whose Ports and neighbouring Islands are mention'd, he might contrive to send his Heroe where he had made his own Voyage before. Nor will the Fables he has intermingled be any Objection to his having travel'd in those Parts, since they are not related as the History of the present time, but the Tradition of the former. His mention of
Thrace,
his Description of the Beasts of
Lybia,
and of the Climate in the
Fortunate Islands,
may seem also to give us a view of him in the Extreams of the Earth, where it was not barbarous or uninhabited. It is hard to set limits to the Travels of a Man, who has set none to that desire of Knowledge which made him undertake them. Who can say what People he has not seen, who appears to be vers'd in the Customs of all? He takes the Globe for the Scene in which he introduces his Subjects; he launches forward intrepidly, like one to whom no place is new, and appears a Citizen of the World in general.
When he return'd from his Travels, he seems to have apply'd himself to the finishing his Poems, however he might have either design'd, begun, or pursu'd them before. In these he has treasur'd up his various Acquisitions of Knowledge, where they have been preserv'd through Ages, to be as well the Proofs of his own Industry, as the Instructions of Posterity. He might then describe his Sacrifices after the
Aeolian
manner; or
Iliad 3.
his Leagues with a Mixture of
Trojan
and
Spartan
Ceremonies:
Il. 2. ℣. 145.
He could then compare the Confusion of a Multitude to that Tumult he had observ'd in the
Icarian
Sea, dashing and breaking among its Crowd of Islands: He could represent the Numbers of an Army, by those Flocks of
Iliad 2. ℣. 461.
Swans he had seen on the Banks of the
Cayster;
or being to describe that Heat of Battel with which
Achilles
drove the
Trojans
into the River,
Il. 21. ℣. 12.
he could illustrate it with an Allusion from
Cyrene
or
Cyprus,
where, when the Inhabitants burn'd their Fields, the Grass-hoppers fled before the Fire to perish in the Ocean. His Fancy being fully replenish'd, might supply him with every proper occasional Image, and his Soul after having enlarg'd itself, and taken in an extensive Variety of the Creation, might be equal to the Task of an
Iliad
and an
Odysses.
His
old Age
and
Death.
In his
Age,
we hear he fell blind, and settled at
Chios,
as he says in the
Hymn
to
Apollo,
which (as is before observ'd) is acknowledg'd for his by
Thucydides,
and might occasion both
Simonides
and
Theocritus
to call him a
Chian.
Strabo,
l.
10.
Strabo
relates, That
Lycurgus,
the great Legislator of
Sparta,
was reported to have gone to
Chios
to have a Conference with
Homer,
after he had study'd the Laws of
Crete
and
Aegypt
in order to form his Constitutions. If this be true, how much a nobler Representation does it give of him, and indeed more agreeable to what we conceive of this mighty Genius, than those spurious Accounts which keep him down among the meanest of Mankind? What an Idea could we frame to our selves of a Conversation, held between two Persons so considerable; a Philosopher conscious of the Force of Poetry, and a Poet knowing in the Depths of Philosophy; both their Souls improv'd with Learning, both eminently rais'd above little Designs, or the meaner kind of Interest, and meeting together to consult the Good of Mankind? But in this, I have only indulg'd a Thought which is not to be insisted upon; the Evidence of History rather tends to prove that
Lycurgus
brought his Works from
Asia
after his Death: which
Procl.
vitâ
Hom.
Proclus
imagines to have happen'd at a great old Age, on account of his Circumference of Learning, for which a short Life could never suffice.
His
Character
and
Manners.
If we would now make a Conjecture concerning the Genius and Temper of this great Man; perhaps his Works, which would not furnish us with Facts for his Life, will be more reasonably made use of to give us a Picture of his Mind: To this end therefore, we may suffer the very Name and Notion of a Book to vanish for a while, and look upon what is left us as a Conversation, in order to gain an Acquaintance with
Homer.
Perhaps the general Air of his Works will become the general Character of his Genius, and the particular Observations give some Light to the particular Turns of his Temper. His comprehensive Knowledge shews that his Soul was not form'd like a narrow Chanel for a single Stream, but as an Expanse which might receive an Ocean into its Bosom; that he had the strongest Desire of Improvement, and an unbounded Curiosity, which made its Advantage of every transient Circumstance, or obvious Accident. His solid and sententious Manner may make us admire him for a Man of Judgment; one who, in the darkest Ages, could enter far into a Disquisition of human Nature; who, notwithstanding all the Changes which Governments, Manners, Rites, and even the Notions of Virtue have undergone, could still abound with so many Maxims correspondent to Truth, and Notions applicable to so many Sciences. The Fire, which is so observable in his Poem, as to give every thing the most active Appearance, may make us naturally conjecture him to have been of a warm Temper, and lively Behaviour; and the pleasurable Air which every where overspreads it, may give us reason to think, that Fire of Imagination was temper'd with Sweetness and Affability. If we farther observe the Particulars he treats of, and imagine that he laid a Stress upon the Sentiments he delivers, pursuant to his real Opinions; we shall take him to be of a religious Spirit, by his inculcating in almost every Page the worship of the Gods. We shall imagine him to be a generous Lover of his Countrey, from his care to extol it every where: which is carry'd to such a heighth, as to make
Plutarch
de Aud. Poetis.
Plutarch
observe, That though many of the
Barbarians
are made Prisoners or Suppliants, yet neither of these disgraceful Accidents (which are common to all Nations in War) ever happens to one
Greek
throughout his Works. We shall take him to be a compassionate Lover of Mankind, from his numberless Praises of Hospitality and Charity; (if indeed we are not to account for 'em, as the common Writers of his Life imagine, from his owing his Support to these Virtues.) It might seem from his Love of Stories, with his manner of telling them sometimes, that he gave his own Picture when he painted his
Nestor,
and, as wise as he was, was no Enemy to Talking. One would think from his Praises of Wine, his copious Goblets, and pleasing Descriptions of Banquets, that he was addicted to a chearful, sociable Life, which
Horace
takes notice of as a kind of Tradition;
"Laudibus arguitur vini vinosus
Homerus.
"
Ep.
19.
l.
1.
And that he was not (as may be guess'd of
Virgil
from his Works) averse to the
Female Sex,
will appear from his care to paint them amiably upon all occasions: His
Andromache
and
Penelope
are in each of his Poems most shining Characters of conjugal Affection; even his
Helena
herself is drawn with all the Softnings imaginable; his Souldiers are exhorted to combat with the hopes of
Women;
his Commanders are furnish'd with
fair Slaves
in their Tents, nor is the venerable
Nestor
without a
Mistress.
It is true, that in this way of turning a
Book
into a
Man,
this reasoning from his Works to himself, we can at best but hit off a few Out-strokes of a Character: Wherefore I shall decline the carrying it into more minute Points, and conclude with one
Discovery
which we may make from his
Silence,
a Discovery extreamly proper to be made in this manner, which is, that he was of a very modest Temper. There is in all other Poets a Custom of speaking of themselves, and a Vanity of promising Eternity to their Writings: In both which
Homer,
who has the best Title to speak out, is altogether silent. As to the last of them, the World has made him ample Recompence; it has given him that Eternity he would not promise himself: But whatever Endeavours have been offer'd in respect of the former, we find our selves still under an irreparable Loss. That which others have said of him has amounted to no more than Conjecture; that which I have said is no farther to be insisted on: I have us'd the liberty which is indulg'd me by Precedent, to give in my Opinions among the Accounts of others, and the World may be pleas'd to receive them as so many willing Endeavours to gratify its Curiosity.
Catalogue of his Works.
The only uncontestable Works which
Homer
has left behind him are the
Iliad
and
Odysses:
The
Batrachomuomachia
or
Battle of the Frogs and Mice,
has been disputed, but is however allow'd for his by many great Authorities; amongst whom
Statius
Pres. ad Sylu.
1
Statius
has reckon'd it like the
Culex
of
Virgil,
a Trial of his Force before his larger Performances. It is indeed a beautiful Piece of Raillery, in which a great Writer may delight to unbend himself; an Instance of that
agreeable Trifling,
which has been at some time or other indulg'd by the
finest Genius
's, and the Offspring of that amusing and chearful Humour, which generally accompanies the Character of a rich Imagination, like a Vein of
Mercury
running mingled with a Mine of
Gold.
The
Hymns
have been doubted also, and attributed by the Scholiasts to
Cynaethus
the
Rhapsodist;
but notwithstanding the Tradition, neither
Thucyd.
l.
3.
Thucydides,
Lucian
Phalarid.
2.
Lucian,
nor
Pausan.
Boeotic.
Pausanias,
have scrupled to cite them as genuine. We have the Authority of the two former for that to
Apollo,
tho' it be observ'd that the word
is found in it, which the Book
de Poesi Homericâ
(ascrib'd to
Plutarch
) tells us, was not in use in
Homer
's Time. We have also an Authority of the last for a
Paus.
Messen.
Hymn
to
Ceres,
of which he has given us a Fragment. That to
Mars
is objected against for mentioning
, and that which is the first to
Minerva
for using
, both of them being (according to the Author of the Treatise before mention'd) words of a later Invention. The
Hymn
to
Venus
has many of its Lines copy'd by
Virgil
in the Enterview between
Aeneas,
and that Goddess in the first
Aeneid:
But whether these Hymns are
Homer
's or not, they are always judg'd to be near as ancient, if not of the same Age with him.
The
Epigrams
are extracted out of the Life said to be written by
Herodotus,
and we leave them as such to stand or fall with it; except the Epitaph on
Midas,
which is of very ancient Authority, quoted without its Author both by
Plat.
in
Phaed.
Plato
and
Longin. §.36.
Edit.
Tollii.
Longinus,
and (according to
Laertius
in vita
Cleobuli.
Laertius
) ascrib'd by
Simonides
to
Cleobulus
the wise Man; who living long after
Homer
answers better to the Age of
Midas
the Son of
Gordias.
The
Margites,
which is lost, is said by
Arist.
Poet. cap.
4.
Aristotle
to have been a Poem of a comick Nature, wherein
Homer
made use of
Iambick
Verses as proper for Raillery. It was a Jest upon the Fair Sex, and had its Name from one
Margites,
a weak Man who was the Subject of it. The Story is something loose, as may be seen by the Account of it still preserv'd in
Eustath.
in
Odyss. 10.
Eustathius
's Comment on the
Odysses.
The
Cercopes
was a Satyrical Work which is also lost; we may however imagine it was level'd against the Vices of Men, if our Conjecture be right that it was founded upon the
Ovid
Metam. l.
14.
de
Cercop.
old Fable of the
Cercopes,
a Nation who were turn'd into
Monkies
for their Frauds and Impostures.
The
Destruction
of
Oechalia,
was a Poem of which (according to
Eustathius
)
Hercules
was the Heroe; and the Subject, his ravaging that Countrey; because
Eurytus
the King had deny'd him his Daughter
Iole.
The
Ilias Minor
was a Piece which included both the taking of
Troy,
and the return of the
Graecians;
In this was the Story of
Sinon,
which
Virgil
has made use of:
Arist.
Poet. cap.
24.
Aristotle
has judg'd it not to belong to
Homer.
The
Cypriacks,
if it was upon them that
Nevius
founded his
Ilias Cypria,
(as
Dac.
on
Arist.
Poet. cap.
24.
Mr.
Dacier
conjectures) were the
Love-Adventures
of the
Ladies
at the Siege: these are rejected by
Herod.
l.
2.
Herodotus,
for saying that
Paris
brought
Helen
to
Troy
in three Days; whereas
Homer
asserts they were long driven from Place to Place.
There are also other Things ascrib'd to him, such as the
Heptapection Goat,
the
Arachnomachia, &c.
in the ludicrous Manner; and the
Thebais, Epigoni,
or second Siege of
Thebes,
the
Phocais, Amazonia, &c.
in the serious: which, if they were his, are now to be reputed a real Loss to the learned World. Time, in some Things, may have prevail'd over
Homer
himself, and left only the Names of these Works as Memorials that such were in being; but while the
Iliad
and
Odysses
remain, he seems like a Leader, who, tho' he may have fail'd in a Skirmish, has carry'd a Victory, for which he passes in Triumph through all future Ages.
Monuments, Coins, Marbles,
remaining of him.
THE Remains we have at present of those Monuments Antiquity had fram'd for him, are but few. It could not be thought that they who knew so little of the Life of
Homer,
could have a right Knowledge of his
Person;
yet had they Statues of him as of their Gods, whose Forms they had never seen.
"
Quinimò quae non sunt, finguntur
(says
Pliny,
l.
35.
c.
2.
Pliny
)
pariuntque desideria non traditi vultûs, sicut in
Homero
evenit.
"
But tho' the ancient Portraits of him seem purely notional, yet they agree (as I think
Raph. Fabret.
Explicatio Veteris Tabellae Anaglyphae
Hom.
Iliad.
Fabretti
has observ'd) in representing him with a short curl'd Beard, and distinct Marks of Age in his Forehead. That which is prefix'd to this Book, is taken from an ancient Marble Bust, in the Palace of
Farnese
at
Rome.
In
Bollissus
near
Chios
there is a Ruin, which was shown for the House of
Homer,
which
Leo Allat.
de patria
Hom.
cap.
13.
Leo Allatius
went on Pilgrimage to visit, and (as he tells us) found nothing but a few Stones crumbling away with Age, over which he and his Companions wept for Satisfaction.
They erected Temples to
Homer
in
Smyrna,
as appears from
Cicero
pro Archia.
Cicero;
one of these is suppos'd to be yet extant, and the same which they show for the Temple of
Janus.
It agrees with
Strabo,
l.
14. Tò
, &c.
de
Smyrna.
Strabo
's Description, a square Building of Stone, near a River, thought to be the
Meles,
with two Doors opposite to each other, North and South, and a large Niche within the East-Wall, where the Image stood: But M.
Spon
denies this to be the true
Homaerium.
Of the Medals struck for him, there are some both of
Chios
and
Smyrna
still in being, and exhibited at the beginning of this Essay. The most valuable with respect to the Largeness of the Head is that of
Amastris,
which is carefully copied from an Original belonging to the present Earl of
Pembroke,
and is the same which
Gronovius Cuperus
and
Dacier
have Copies of, but very incorrectly performed.
But that which of all the Remains has been of late the chief Amusement of the Learned, is the Marble call'd his
Apotheosis,
the Work of
Archelaus
of
Priene,
and now in the Palace of
Colonna.
We see there a Temple hung with its Veil, where
Homer
is plac'd on a Seat with a Footstool to it, as he has describ'd the Seats of his Gods; supported on each side with Figures known for the
Iliad
and the
Odysses,
the one by the Sword, the other by the Ornament of a Ship, which denotes the Voyages of
Ulysses.
On each side of his Footstool are
Mice,
in Allusion to the
Batrachomuomachia.
Behind, is
Time
waiting upon him, and a Figure with Turrets on its Head, which signifies the
World,
crowning him with the Laurel. Before him is an Altar, at which all the
Arts
are sacrificing to him as to their Deity. On one side of the Altar stands a Boy, representing
Mythology,
on the other, a Woman, representing
History;
after her is
Poetry
bringing the
Sacred Fire;
and in a long following Train,
Tragedy, Comedy, Nature, Virtue, Memory, Rhetorick,
and
Wisdom,
in all their proper Attitudes.
SECT. II.
HAVING now finish'd what was propos'd concerning the History of
Homer
's Life, I shall proceed to that of his Works; and considering him no longer as a
Man,
but as an
Author,
prosecute the Thread of his Story in this his second Life, thro' the different Degrees of Esteem which those Writings have obtain'd in different Periods of Time.
It has been the fortune of several great Genius's not to be known while they liv'd, either for want of Historians, the Meanness of Fortune, or the Love of Retirement, to which a Poetical Temper is peculiarly addicted. Yet after Death their Works give themselves a Life in Fame, without the help of an Historian; and, notwithstanding the Meanness of their Author, or his Love of Retreat, they go forth among Mankind, the Glories of that Age which produc'd them, and the Delight of those which follow it. This is a Fate particularly verify'd in
Homer,
than whom no considerable Author is less known as to himself, or more highly valu'd as to his Productions.
The first Publication of his Works by
Lycurgus.
The earliest Account of these is said by
Plut.
vit.
Lycurgi.
Plutarch
to be some time after his Death, when
Lycurgus
sail'd to
Asia:
"There he had the first sight of
Homer
's Works, which were probably preserv'd by the Grand-children of
Creophilus;
and having observ'd that their pleasurable Air of Fiction did not hinder the Poets abounding in Maxims of State, and Rules of Morality, he transcrib'd and carry'd with him that entire Collection we have now among us: For at that time (continues this Author) there was only an obscure Rumour in
Greece
to the Reputation of these Poems, and but a few scatter'd Fragments handed about, 'till
Lycurgus
publish'd them entire."
Thus they were in danger of being lost as soon as they were produced, by the Misfortune of the Age, a want of Taste in Learning, or the manner in which they were left to Posterity, when they fell into the Hands of
Lycurgus.
He was a Man of great Learning, a Law-giver to a People divided and untractable, and one who had a Notion that Poetry influenc'd and civiliz'd the Minds of Men; which made him smooth the way to his Constitution by the Songs of
Thales
the
Cretan,
whom he engag'd to write upon Obedience and Concord. As he propos'd to himself that the Constitution he would raise upon this their Union should be of a martial Nature, these Poems were of an extraordinary Value to him: for they came with a full Force into his Scheme; the Moral they inspir'd was Unity; the Air they breath'd was Martial; and their Story had this particular Engagement for the
Lacedaemonians,
that it shew'd
Greece
in War, and
Asia
subdu'd under the Conduct of one of their own Monarchs, who commanded all the
Graecian
Princes. Thus the Poet both pleas'd the Law-giver, and the People: from whence he had a double Influence when the Laws were settled. For his Poem then became a Panegyrick on their Constitution, as well as a Register of their Glory; and confirm'd them in the Love of it by a gallant Description of those Qualities and Actions for which it was adapted. This made
Plutarch.
Apoptheg.
Cleomenes
call him
The Poet of the
Lacedaemonians: And therefore when we remember that
Homer
owed the Publication of his Works to
Lycurgus,
we should grant too, that
Lycurgus
owed in some degree the Enforcement of his Laws to the Works of
Homer.
Their Reception in
Greece
At their first Appearance in
Greece,
they were not digested into a regular Body, but remain'd as they were brought over in several detach'd Pieces, call'd (according to
Aelian
l
13.
cap.
14.
Aelian
) from the Subject on which they treated; as the
Battle at the Ships, the Death of
Dolon,
the Valour of
Agamemnon,
the
Patroclea,
the Grot of
Calypso,
Slaughter of the Wooers,
and the like. Nor were these entitled
Books,
but
Rhapsodies;
from whence they who sung them had the Title of
Rhapsodists.
It was in this manner they began to be disperst, while their Poetry, their History, the Glory they ascrib'd to
Greece
in general, the particular Description they gave of it, and the Compliment they paid to every little State by an honourable mention, so influenc'd all, that they were transcrib'd and sung with general Approbation. But what seems to have most recommended them was, that
Greece
which could not be great in its divided Condition, looked upon the Fable of them as a likely Plan of future Grandeur. They seem from thenceforward to have had an Eye upon the Conquest of
Asia;
as a proper Undertaking which by its Importance might occasion Union enough to give a Diversion from Civil Wars, and by its Prosecution bring in an Acquisition of Honour and Empire. This is the meaning of
. Isocrat.
Paneg.
Isocrates,
when he tells us, That
"
Homer
's Poetry was in the greater Esteem, because it gave exceeding Praise to those who fought against the
Barbarians.
Our Ancestors (continues he) honour'd it with a Place in Education and musical Contests, that by often hearing it we should have a Notion of an original Enmity between us and those Nations; and that admiring the Virtue of those who fought at
Troy,
we should be induc'd to emulate their Glory."
And indeed they never quitted this thought, 'till they had successfully carry'd their Arms where-ever
Homer
might thus excite them.
Digested into order at
Athens.
But while his Works were suffer'd to lie in an unconnected manner, the Chain of Story was not always perceiv'd, so that they lost much of their Force and Beauty by being read disorderly. Wherefore as
Lacedaemon
had the first Honour of their Publication by
Lycurgus,
that of their Regulation fell to the share of
Athens
in the time of
Diog. Laert.
vit.
Sol.
Solon,
who himself made a Law for their recital. It was then that
Pisistratus,
the Tyrant of
Athens,
who was a Man of great Learning and Eloquence (as
Quis doctior iisdem illis temporibus aut cujus cloquentia litteris instructior quam
Pisistrati?
Qui primus
Homeri
libros, confusos antea, sic disposuisse dicitur ut nunc habemus. Cic.
de Orat. l.
3.
Vide ctiam Ael. l.
13.
cap.
14. Liban.
Panegyr. in
Jul.
Anonymam
Homeri
vitam. Fusius vero in Commentatoribus
Dyon. Thracis.
Cicero
has it) first put together the confus'd Parts of
Homer,
according to that Regularity in which they are now handed down to us. He divided them into the two different Works, entitled the
Iliad
and
Odysses;
he digested each according to the Author's design, to make their Plans become evident; and distinguish'd each again into twenty four Books, to which were afterwards prefix'd the twenty four Letters. There is a Passage indeed in
Plato
in
Hypparcho.
Plato,
which takes this Work from
Pisistratus,
by giving it to his Son
Hypparchus;
with this addition, that he commanded them to be sung at the Feast call'd
Panathenaea.
Perhaps it may be, as
Leo Allatius
de Patria
Hom.
cap.
5.
Leo Allatius
has imagin'd, because the Son publish'd the Copy more correctly: This he offers, to reconcile so great a Testimony as
Plato
's to the Cloud of Witnesses which are against him in it: But be that as it will,
Athens
still claims its proper Honour of rescuing the Father of Learning from the Injuries of Time, of having restor'd
Homer
to himself, and given the World a view of him in his Perfection. So that if his Verses were before admir'd for their
Use
and
Beauty,
as the
Stars
were before they were consider'd in a
System
of Science; they are now admir'd much more for their graceful
Harmony,
and that
Sphere
of
Order
in which they appear to move. They became henceforward more the Pleasure of the Wits of
Greece;
more the Subject of their Studies, and the Employment of their Pens.
About the time that this new Edition of
Homer
was publish'd in
Athens,
there was one
Cynaethus,
a learned
Rhapsodist,
who (as the
Schol. Pind.
in Nem. Od.
2.
Scholiast
of
Pindar
informs us) settled first at
Syracuse
in that Employment; and if (as
Leo Allatius
believes) he had been before an Assistant in the Edition, he may be suppos'd to have first carry'd it abroad. But it was not long preserv'd correct among his Followers; they committed Mistakes in their Transcriptions and Repetitions, and had even the Presumption to alter some Lines, and interpolate others. Thus the Works of
Homer
ran the danger of being utterly defac'd; which made it become the concern of Kings and Philosophers, that they should be restor'd to their Primitive Beauty.
The Edition in
Macedon
under
Alexander.
In the Front of these is
Alexander the Great,
for whom they will appear peculiarly calculated, if we consider that no Books more enliven or flatter personal Valour, which was great in him to what we call Romantick: Neither has any Book more places applicable to his
Designs
on
Asia,
or (as it happen'd) to his
Actions
there. It was then no ill Compliment in
Plut.
in vitâ
Alexandri.
Aristotle
to purge the
Iliad,
upon his account, from those Errors and Additions which had crept into it. And so far was
Alexander
himself from esteeming it a Matter of small Importance, that he afterwards
Strabo,
lib.
13.
assisted in a strict Review of it with
Anaxarchus
and
Calisthenes;
whether it was meerly because he esteem'd it a Treasury of military Virtue and Knowledge; or that (according to a late ingenious Conjecture) he had a farther Aim, in promoting the Propagation of it when he was ambitious to be esteem'd a Son of
Jupiter;
as a Book which treating of the Sons of the Gods, might make the Intercourse between them and Mortals become a familiar Notion. The Review being finish'd, he laid it up in a Casket which was found among the Spoils of
Darius
as what best deserv'd so inestimable a Case, and from this Circumstance it was nam'd The
Edition of the Casket.
Editions in
Aegypt.
The Place where the Works of
Homer
were next found in the greatest Regard, is
Aegypt,
under the Reign of the
Ptolomys.
These Kings being descended from
Greece
retain'd always a Passion for their original Country. The Men, the Books, the Qualifications of it, were in esteem in their Court; they preserv'd the Language in their Family; they encourag'd a Concourse of learned Men; erected the greatest Library in the World; and train'd up their Princes under
Graecian
Tutors; among whom the most considerable were appointed for Revisers of
Homer.
The first of these was
Suidas
Zenodotus,
Library-Keeper to the first
Ptolomy,
and qualify'd for this Undertaking by being both a Poet, and a Grammarian; a compounded Character in which there was Fancy for a Discovery of Beauties, and a minuter Judgment for a Detection of Faults. But neither his Copy nor that which his Disciple
Aristophanes
had made, satisfying
Aristarchus,
(whom
Ptolomy Philometor
had appointed over his Son
Euergetes
) he set himself to another Correction with all the Wit and Learning he was Master of. He restor'd some Verses to their former Readings, rejected others which he mark'd with
Obelisks
as spurious, and proceeded with such industrious Accuracy, that, notwithstanding there were some who wrote against his Performance, Antiquity has generally acquiesc'd in it. Nay, so far have they carry'd their Opinion in his favour, as to call a Man an
Argue ambiguè dictum; mutanda notabit;
Fiet
Aristarchus.—
Horat.
Ars Poetica.
Aristarchus
when they meant to say a candid, judicious Critick; in the same manner as they call the contrary a
Zoilus,
from that
Zoilus
who about this time wrote an envious Criticism against
Homer.
And now we mention these two together, I fancy it will be no small Pleasure to the benevolent Part of Mankind, to see how their Characters stand in Contrast to each other, for Examples to future Ages, at the head of the two contrary sorts of Criticism, which proceed from good Nature, or from ill Will. The one was honour'd with the Offices and Countenance of the Court; the other,
Vitruv.
l.
7.
in Prooem.
when he apply'd to the same Place for an Encouragement amongst the Men of Learning, had his Petition rejected: The one had his Fame continu'd to Posterity; the other is only remember'd with Infamy: If the one had Antagonists, they were oblig'd to pay him the deference of a formal Answer; the other was never answer'd but in general, with those opprobrious Names of
Thracian Slave
and
Rhetorical Dog:
The one is suppos'd to have his Copy still remaining; while the other's Remarks are perish'd as things that Men were asham'd to preserve, the just Desert of whatever arises from the miserable Principles of ill Will or Envy.
In
Syria
and other Parts of
Asia.
It was not the Ambition of
Aegypt
only to have a correct Edition of
Homer.
We find in the
Author vitae
Arati,
&
Suidas
in
Arato.
Life of the Poet
Aratus,
that he, having finish'd a Copy of the
Odysses,
was sent for by
Antiochus
King of
Syria,
and entertain'd by him while he finish'd one of the
Iliad.
We read too of others which were publish'd with the Names of Countrys; such as the
Eustathius
Initio Iliados.
Massaliotick
and
Synopick:
as if the World were agreed to make his Works in their Survival undergo the same Fate with himself; and that as different Cities contended for his Birth, so they might again contend for his true Edition. But though these Reviews were not peculiar to
Aegypt,
the greatest Honour was theirs, in that universal Approbation which the Performance of
Aristarchus
receiv'd; and if it be not his Edition which we have at present, we know not to whom to ascribe it.
In
India
and
Persia.
But the World was not contented barely to have settled an Edition of his Works. There were innumerable Comments in which they were open'd like a Treasury of Learning; and Translations whereby other Languages became enrich'd by an Infusion of his Spirit of Poetry.
Aelian,
l.
12.
cap.
48.
Aelian
tells us, that even the
Indians
had them in their Tongue, and the
Persian
Kings sung them in theirs.
Persius,
Sat.
1.
Persius
mentions a Version into
Latin
by
Labeo,
and in general the Passages and Imitations which are taken from him, are so numerous that he may be said to have been translated by piecemeal into that, and all other Languages. Which affords us this Remark, that there is hardly any thing in him, which has not been pitch'd upon by some Author or other for a particular Beauty.
The Extent and Height of their Reputation in the Heathen World.
It is almost incredible to what an Height the Idea of that Veneration the Ancients paid to
Homer
will arise, to one who reads particularly with this view, through all these Periods. He was no sooner come from his Obscurity, but
Greece
receiv'd him with Delight and Profit: There were then but few Books to divide their Attention, and none which had a better Title to engross it all. They made some daily Discoveries of his Beauties, which were still promoted in their different Channels by the favourite Qualities of different Nations.
Sparta
and
Macedon
consider'd him most in respect of his
warlike Spirit; Athens
and
Aegypt
with regard to his
Poetry
and
Learning;
and all their Endeavours united under the Hands of the Learned, to make him blaze forth into an universal Character. His Works, which from the beginning pass'd for excellent
Poetry,
grew to be
History
and
Geography;
they rose to be a
Magazine
of
Sciences;
were exalted into a
Scheme
of
Religion;
gave a Sanction to whatever Rites they mention'd; were quoted in all Cases for the
Conduct of Life,
and learned by Heart as the very Book of Belief and Practice. From him the
Poets
drew their Inspirations, the
Criticks
their Rules, and the
Philosophers
a Defence of their Opinions: Every Author was fond to use his Name; and every Profession writ Books upon him, 'till they swell'd to Libraries. The Warriors form'd themselves by his Heroes, and the Oracles deliver'd his Verses for Answers. Nor was Mankind satisfy'd to have thus seated his Character at the top of human Wisdom, but being overborn with an imagination that he transcended their Species, they admitted him to share in those Honours they gave the Deities. They instituted Games for him, dedicated Statues, erected Temples, as at
Smyrna, Chios
and
Alexandria;
and
Aelian,
l.
9.
cap.
15.
Aelian
tells us, That when the
Argives
sacrific'd with their Guests, they us'd to invoke the Presence of
Apollo
and
Homer
together.
The Decline of their Character in the beginning of Christianity.
Thus he was settled on a Foot of Adoration, and continu'd highly venerated in the
Roman
Empire, when
Christianity
began. Heathenism was then to be destroy'd, and
Homer
appear'd the Father of it; whose Fictions were at once the Belief of the Pagan Religion, and the Objections of Christianity against it. He became therefore very deeply involv'd in the Question; and not with that Honour which hitherto attended him, but as a Criminal who had drawn the World into Folly. He was on one hand accus'd for having fram'd
Justin Martyr,
Admonit. ad Gentes.
Fables upon the Works of
Moses;
as the Rebellion of the Giants from the building of
Babel,
and the casting
Atè
or
Strife
out of Heaven from the Fall of
Lucifer.
He was expos'd on the other hand for those which he is said to invent, as when
Arnobius
adversus gentes, l.
7.
Arnobius
crys out,
"This is the Man who wounded your
Venus,
imprison'd your
Mars,
who free'd even your
Jupiter
by
Briareus,
and who finds Authorities for all your Vices,"
&c.
Mankind was
Vid.
Tertull.
Apol. cap.
14.
derided for whatever he had hitherto made them believe; and
Arnobius,
ibid.
Eusebius
praep. Evangel. l.
14.
cap.
10.
Plato,
who expell'd him his Commonwealth, has, of all the Philosophers, found the best Quarter from the Fathers, for passing that Sentence. His finest Beauties began to take a new Appearance of pernicious Qualities; and because they might be consider'd as Allurements to Fancy, or Supports to those Errors with which they were mingled, they were to be depreciated while the Contest of Faith was in being. It was hence, that the reading them was discourag'd, that we hear
Ruffinus
accusing St.
Jerome
for it, and that
St.
August.
confess. l.
1.
cap.
14.
St.
Austin
rejects him as the grand Master of Fable; tho' indeed the
dulcissimè vanus
which he applies to
Homer,
looks but like a fondling manner of parting with him.
This strong Attack against our Author oblig'd those Philosophers who could have acquiesc'd as his Admirers, to appear as his Defenders; who because they saw the Fables could not be literally supported, endeavour'd to find a hidden Sense, and to carry on every where that Vein of Allegory which was already broken open with Success in some Places. But how miserably were they forc'd to Shifts, when they made
Plutarch
on reading the Poets.
Juno
's dressing in the
Cestos
for
Jupiter
to signify the purging of the
Air
as it approach'd the
Fire?
Or the Story of
Mars
and
Venus,
that Inclination they have to Incontinency who are born when these Planets are in Conjunction? Wit and Learning had here a large Field to display themselves, and to disagree in: for sometimes
Jupiter,
and sometimes
Vulcan,
was made to signify the
Fire;
or
Mars
and
Venus
were allow'd to give us a Lecture of
Morality
at one time, and a Problem of
Astronomy
at another. And these strange Discoveries, which
Porphyrius
de Antro Nymph. &c.
Porphyry
and the rest would have to pass for the genuine
Theology
of the
Greeks,
prove but (as
Eusebii
praepar. Evangel. l.
3.
cap.
1.
Eusebius
terms it) the perverting of Fables into a mystick Sense. They did indeed often defend
Homer,
but then they allegorized away their
Gods
by doing so. What the World took for substantial Objects of Adoration, dissolv'd before its Eyes into a figurative Meaning, a moral Truth, or a Piece of Learning which might equally correspond to any Religion; and the Learned at last had left themselves nothing to worship, when they came to find an Object in Christianity.
Restoration of
Homer
's Works to their just Character.
The Dispute of Faith being over, ancient Learning re-assumed its Dignity, and
Homer
obtain'd his proper Place in the Esteem of Mankind. His Books are now no longer the Scheme of a living Religion, but become the Register of one of former Times. They are not now receiv'd for a Rule of Life, but valu'd for those just Observations which are dispers'd through them. They are no longer pronounc'd from Oracles, but quoted still by Authors for their Learning. Those Remarks which the Philosophers made upon them, have their Weight with us; those Beauties which the Poets dwell'd upon, their Admiration: And even after the Abatement of what was extravagant in his Run of Praise, he remains confessedly a mighty Genius not transcended by any which have since arisen; a Prince, as well as a Father, of Poetry.
SECT. III.
A View of the Learning of
Homer
's Time.
IT remains in this Historical Essay, to regulate our present Opinion of
Homer
by a view of his Learning, compar'd with that of his Age. For this end he may first be consider'd as a Poet, that Character which was his professedly; and secondly as one endow'd with other Sciences, which must be spoken of not as in themselves, but as in Subserviency to his main Design. Thus he will be seen on his right Foot of Perfection in one view, and with the just Allowances which should be made on the other: While we pass through the several Heads of Science, the State of those Times in which he writ will show us both the Impediments he rose under, and the Reasons why several things in him which have been objected to, either could not, or should not be otherwise than they are.
In
Poetry.
As for the State of
Poetry,
it was at a low Pitch in the Age of
Homer.
There is mention of
Orpheus, Linus,
and
Musaeus,
venerable Names in Antiquity, and eminently celebrated in Fable for the wonderful Power of their Songs and Musick. The learned
Fabricius,
in his
Bibliotheca Graeca,
has reckon'd about seventy who are said to have written before
Homer:
but their Works were not preserv'd, and can be only consider'd (if they were really excellent) as the Happiness of their own Generation. What sort of Poets
Homer
saw in his own Time may be gather'd from his Description of
Od. 1st
and
Od. 8th .
Demodocus
and
Phemius,
whom he has introduc'd as Opportunities to celebrate his Profession. The imperfect Risings of the Art lay then among the
Extempore-
Singers of Stories at Banquets, who were half Singers, half Musicians. Nor was the Name of
Poet
then in being, or once us'd throughout
Homer
's Works. From this poor State of Poetry, he has taken a handle to usher it into the World with the boldest Stroke of Praise which has ever been given it. It is in the eighth
Odyssey,
where
Ulysses
puts
Demodocus
upon a trial of Skill.
Demodocus
having diverted the Guests with some Actions of the
Trojan
War;
"
Odyss.
l.
8. ℣. 487,
&c.
All this (says
Ulysses
) you have sung very elegantly, as if you had either been present, or heard it reported; but pass now to a Subject I shall give you, sing the Management of
Ulysses
in the wooden Horse, just as it happen'd, and I will acknowledge the Gods have taught you your Songs."
This the Singer being inspir'd from Heaven begins immediately, and
Ulysses
by weeping at the recital confesses the Truth of it. We see here a Narration which could only pass upon an Age extreamly ignorant in the Nature of Poetry, where that Claim of Inspiration is given to it, which it has never since laid down, and (which is more) a Power of prophecying at pleasure ascrib'd to it. Thus much therefore we gather from himself concerning the most ancient State of Poetry in
Greece;
that no one was honour'd with the Name of Poet, before Him whom it has especially belong'd to ever after. And if we farther appeal to the consent of Authors, we find he has other Titles for being call'd the first.
Joseph.
contra
Apion.
l.
r.
Josephus
observes, That the
Greeks
have not contested but he was the most ancient, whose Books they had in Writing.
Arist.
Poet. cap.
25.
Aristotle
says, He was the
"first who brought all the Parts of a Poem into one Piece,"
to which he adds,
"with true Judgment,"
to give him a Praise including both the Invention and Perfection. And
Horace
acquaints us, that he invented the very
Measure
which is call'd
Heroick
from the Subjects on which he employ'd it;
Res gestae regumque, ducumque, & fortia bella,
Quo scribi possint
numero
monstravit Homerus
Hor.
Epist. ad
Pisones. ℣. 73.
.
Whatever was serious or magnificent made a part of his Subject: War and Peace were the comprehensive Division in which he consider'd the World; and the Plans of his Poems were founded on the most active Scenes of each, the Adventures of a Siege, and the Accidents of a Voyage. For these his Spirit was equally active and various, lofty in Expression, clear in Narration, natural in Description, rapid in Action, abundant in Figures. If ever he appears less than himself, it is from the Time he writ in; and if he runs into Errors, it is from an Excess, rather than a Defect of Genius. Thus he rose over the Poetical World, shining out like a Sun all at once, which if it sometimes make too
faint
an Appearance, 'tis to be ascrib'd only to the necessity of the Season that keeps it at a distance; and if he is sometimes too
violent,
we confess at the same time that we owe all things to his Heat.
Theology.
As for his
Theology,
we see the Heathen System entirely follow'd. This was all he could then have to work upon, and where he fails of Truth for want of Revelation he at least shows his Knowledge in his own Religion by the Traditions he delivers. But we are now upon a Point to be farther handled, because the greatest Controversy concerning the Merit of
Homer
depends upon it. Let us consider then that there was an Age in
Greece,
when natural Reason only discover'd there must be something superior to us, and Tradition had affix'd the Notion to a Number of Deities. At this time
Homer
rose with the finest Turn imaginable for Poetry, who designing to instruct Mankind in the manner for which he was most adapted, writ Poems wherein he made use of the Ministry of the Gods to give the highest Air of Surprize and Veneration to his Writings. He found the Religion of Mankind wrapt up in Fables; it was thought then the easiest way to convey Morals to the People, who were allur'd to Attention by Pleasure, and aw'd with the Opinion of a hidden Mystery. Nor was it his Business when he undertook the Province of a Poet (not of a meer Philosopher) to be the first who should discard That which furnishes Poetry with its most beautiful Appearance: and especially since the Age he liv'd in, by discovering its Taste, had not only given him Authority, but even put him under the necessity of preserving it. Whatever therefore he might think of his Gods, he took them as he found them: he brought them into Action according to the Notions which were then entertain'd, and in some Stories as they were then believ'd; unless we imagine that he invented every thing he delivers. Yet there are several Rays of Truth streaming through all this Darkness, in those Sentiments he entertains concerning the Gods; and several
Allegories
lightly veil'd over, from whence the learned drew new Knowledges, each according to his Power of Penetration and Fancy. But that we may the better comprehend him in all the Parts of this general View, let us extract from him a Scheme of his Religion.
He has a
Jupiter,
a
Father of Gods and Men,
whom he makes supream, and to whom he applies several Attributes, as Wisdom, Justice, Knowledge, Power,
&c.
which are essentially inherent to the Idea of a God.
Iliad 24. ℣. 527.
He has given him two
Vessels,
out of which he distributes natural
Good
or
Evil
for the Life of Man; he places the Gods in Council round him; he makes
Il. 9. ℣. 498.
Prayers
pass to and fro before him; and Mankind adore him with Sacrifice. But all this grand Appearance, wherein Poetry paid a deference to Reason, is dash'd and mingled with the Imperfection of our Nature; not only with the applying our Passions to the supreme Being (for Men have always been treated with this Complyance to their Notions) but that he is not even exempted from our common Appetites and Frailties: For he is made to eat, drink, and sleep: but this his Admirers would imagine to be only a grosser way of representing a general Notion of Happiness, because he says in one place,
Il. 5. ℣. 340.
that the Food of the Gods was not of the same Nature with ours. But upon the whole, while he endeavour'd to speak of a Deity without a right Information, he was forc'd to take him from that Image he discover'd in
Man;
and (like one who being dazled with the Sun in the Heavens, would view him as he is reflected in a River) he has taken off the Impression not only ruffled with the Emotion of our Passions, but obscur'd with the earthy Mixture of our Natures.
The other Gods have all their Provinces assign'd 'em:
"Every thing has its peculiar Deity, says
Maxim. Tyrius,
Diss.
16.
Maximus Tyrius,
by which
Homer
would insinuate that the Godhead was present to all things."
When they are consider'd farther, we find he has turn'd the Virtues and Endowments of our Minds into
Persons,
to make the Springs of Action become visible; and because they are given by the Gods, he represents them as Gods themselves descending from Heaven. In the same strong Light he shows our Vices when they occasion Misfortunes, like extraordinary Powers which inflict them upon us, and even our natural Punishments are represented as Punishers themselves. But when we come to see the manner they are introduc'd in, they are found feasting, fighting, wounded by Men, and shedding a sort of Blood; in which his Machines play a little too grosly: the Fable which was admitted to procure the Pleasure of Surprize, violently oppresses the Allegory, and it may be lost labour to search for it in every minute Circumstance, if indeed it was intended to be there. The main Design was however Philosophical, the Dress the Poet's, which is us'd for necessity and allow'd to be ornamental. And there will be something still to be offer'd in his Defence, if he has both preserved the grand Moral from being obscur'd, and adorn'd the Parts of his Works with such Sentiments of the Gods as belong'd to the Age he liv'd in; which that he did, appears from his having then had that Success for which Allegory was contriv'd.
"It is the Madness of Man, says
Maxim. Tyr.
Diss.
29.
Maximus Tyrius,
to dis-esteem what is plain and admire what is hidden; This the Poets discovering invented the Fable for a Remedy, when they treated of holy Matters; which being more obscure than Conversation, and more clear than the Riddle, is a Mean between Knowledge and Ignorance; believ'd partly for being agreeable, and partly for being wonderful. Thus as Poets in Name, and Philosophers in Effect, they drew Mankind gradually to a search after Truth, when the Name of Philosopher would have been harsh and displeasing."
When
Homer
proceeds to tell us our Duty to these superior Beings, we find Prayer, Sacrifice, Lustration, and all the Rites which were esteem'd religious, constantly recommended under fear of their Displeasure. We find too a Notion of the Soul's subsisting after this Life, but for want of Revelation he knows not what to reckon the Happiness of a future State, to any one who was not deify'd: Which is plain from the Speech of
Odyss. 11. ℣. 488.
Achilles
to
Ulysses
in the Region of the dead; where he tells him, that
"he would rather serve the poorest Creature upon Earth than rule over all the departed."
It was chiefly for this Reason that
Plato
excluded him his Common-Wealth; he thought
Homer
spoke indecently of the Gods, and dreadfully of a future State; in which Sentence he has made no Allowance for the Times he writ in. But if he can not be defended in every thing as a Theologist, yet we may say in respect of his Poetry, that he has enrich'd it from Theology with true Sentiments for Profit, adorn'd it with Allegories for Pleasure, and by using some Machines which have no farther Significancy or are so refin'd as to make it doubted if they have any, he has however produc'd that Character in Poetry which we call the
Marvellous,
and from which the
Agreeable
(according to
Aristotle
) is always inseparable.
Politicks.
If we take the State of
Greece
at his time in a
Political
View, we find it a
See
Thucydides,
lib.
1.
disunited Country, made up of small States; and whatever was manag'd in War amounted to no more than intestine Skirmishes or Pyracies abroad, which were easily reveng'd on account of their Disunion. Thus one People stole
Europa,
and another
Io;
the
Graecians
took
Hesione
from
Troy,
and the
Trojans
took
Helena
from
Greece
in Revenge. But this last having greater Friends and Alliances than any upon whom the Rapes had hitherto fallen, the Ruin of
Troy
was the Consequence; and the Force of the
Asiatick
Coasts was so broken, that this Accident put an end to the Age of Pyracies. Then the intestine Broils of
Greece
(which had been discontinued during the League) were renew'd upon its Dissolution. War and Sedition mov'd People from Place to Place during its want of Inhabitants; Exiles from one Country were receiv'd for Kings in another; and Leaders took Tracts of Ground to bestow them upon their Followers. Commerce was neglected, living at home unsafe, and nothing of Moment tranfacted by any but against their Neighbours:
Athens
only, where the People were undisturb'd because it was a barren Soil which no Body coveted, had begun to send Colonies abroad, being over-stock'd with Inhabitants.
Now a Poem coming out at so seasonable a Time, with a Moral capable of healing these Disorders by promoting
Union,
we may reasonably think it was design'd for that End to which it is so peculiarly adapted. If we imagine therefore that
Homer
was a Politician in this Affair, we may suppose him to have look'd back into the Ages past, to see if at any time the Disorder had been less; and to have pitch'd upon that Story wherein it found a temporary Cure, that by celebrating it with all possible Honour he might instil a Desire of the same sort of Union into the Hearts of his Countrymen. This indeed was a Work which could belong to none but a Poet, when Governors had Power only over small Territories, and the numerous Governments were every way independent. It was then that all the Charms of Poetry were call'd forth to insinuate the important Glory of an Alliance, and the
Iliad
deliver'd from the
Muses
with all the Pomp of Words and artificial Influence. Union among themselves was recommended, Peace at home, and Glory abroad: And lest this should be render'd useless by Mismanagements, he lets us into farther Lessons concerning it. How when his Kings quarrel, their Subjects suffer; when they act in Conjunction, Victory attends them. When they meet in Council, Plans are drawn and Provisions made for future Action; and when in the Field, the Arts of War are describ'd with the greatest Exactness. These were Lectures of general Concern to Mankind, proper for the Poet to deliver and Kings to attend to; such as made
Porphyry
write of the Profit that Princes might receive from
Homer;
and
Stratocles, Hermias,
and
Frontinus
extract military Discipline out of him. Thus tho'
Plato
has banish'd him from one imaginary Commonwealth, he has still been serviceable to many real Kingdoms.
Morality.
The
Morality
of
Greece
could not be perfect while there was a Weakness in its Government; Faults in Politicks are occasion'd by Faults in Ethicks, and occasion them in their turn. The Division into so many States was the rise of frequent Quarrels, whereby Men were bred up in a kind of rough untractable Disposition. Bodily Strength met with the greatest Honours, because it was daily necessary to the Subsistence of little Governments; and that headlong Courage which throws itself forward to Enterprize and Plunder, was universally caress'd, because it carry'd all things before it. It is no wonder in an Age of such Education and Customs, that, as
Thucyd.
lib.
1.
Thucydides
says,
"Robbing was honour'd, provided it were done with Gallantry, and that the ancient Poets made People question one another as they sail'd by,
if they were Thieves?
as a thing for which no one ought either to be scorn'd or upbraided."
These were the sort of Actions which the Singers then recorded, and it was out of such an Age that
Homer
was to take his Subjects. For this reason (not a want of Morality in him) we see a boasting Temper and unmanag'd Roughness in the Spirit of his Heroes, which ran out in Pride, Anger, or Cruelty. It is not in him as in our modern
Romances,
where Men are drawn in Perfection, and we but read with a tender Weakness what we can neither apply nor emulate.
Homer
writ for Men, and therefore he writ of them; if the World had been better, he would have shown it so; as the Matter now stands, we see his People with the turn of his Age, insatiably thirsting after Glory and Plunder; for which however he has found them a lawful Cause, and taken care to retard their Success by those very Faults.
In the Prosecution of the Story every Part of it has its Lessons of Morality: There is brotherly Love in
Agamemnon
and
Menelaus,
Friendship in
Achilles
and
Patroclus,
and the Love of his Country in
Hector.
But since we have spoken of the
Iliad
as more particular for its Politicks, we may consider the
Odysses
as its Moral is more directly fram'd for Ethicks. It carries the Heroe through a world of Trials both of the dangerous and pleasurable Nature. It shows him first under most surprizing Weights of Adversity, among Shipwrecks and Savages; all these he is made to pass through in the Methods by which it becomes a Man to conquer; a Patience in suffering, and a Presence of Mind in every Accident. It shows him again in another View, tempted with the Baits of idle or unlawful Pleasures, and then points out the Methods of being safe from them. But if in general we consider the care our Author has taken to fix his Lessons of Morality by the Proverbs and Precepts he delivers, we shall not wonder if
Greece
which afterwards gave the Appellation of
Wise
to Men who settled
single Sentences
of Truth, should give him the Title of the
Father of Virtue
for introducing such a Number. To be brief, if we take the Opinion of
Qui quid sit pulchrum, quid turpe, quid utile, quid non,
Plenius & melius Chrysippo & Crantore dicit.
Hor.
Ep.
2.
lib
1.
Horace,
he has propos'd him to us as a Master of Morality; he lays down the common Philosophical Division of
Good
into
pleasant, profitable,
and
honest;
and then asserts that
Homer
has more fully and clearly instructed us in each of them, than the most rigid Philosophers.
Some indeed have thought notwithstanding all this, that
Homer
had only a design to please in his Inventions; and that others have since extracted Morals out of his Stories (and indeed all Stories are capable of being us'd so.) But this is an Opinion concerning Poetry which the World has rather degenerated into, than begun with. The Traditions of
Orpheus
's civilizing Mankind by Hymns on the Gods, with others of the like Nature, may show there was a better use of the Art both known and practis'd. There is also a remarkable Passage of this kind in the third Book of the
Odysses,
that
Agamemnon
left one of the
Odyss. 3. ℣. 267.
Poets of his Times in the Court when he sail'd for
Troy;
and that his Queen was preserv'd virtuous by his Songs, 'till
Aegysthus
was forc'd to expel him in order to debauch her. Here he has hinted what a true Poetical Spirit can do when apply'd to the Promotion of Virtue; and from this one may judge he could not but design That himself, which he recommends as the Duty and Merit of his Profession. Others since his Time may have seduc'd the Art to worse Intentions; but they who are offended at the Liberties of some Poets, should not judge all in the gross for trifling or Corruption; especially when the Evidence runs so strongly for any One to the contrary.
We may in general go on to observe, that the time when
Homer
was born did not abound in Learning. For whereever Politicks and Morality is weak, it wants its peaceable Air to thrive in, and that Opportunity which is not known in the Ages of unsettled Life. He is himself the Man from whom we have the first Accounts of Antiquity, either in its Actions or Learning; from whom we hear what
Aegypt
or
Greece
could inform him in, and whatever himself could discover by the Strength of Nature or Industry. But however that we may not mistake the Elogies of those Ancients who call him the
Father of Arts and Sciences,
and be surpriz'd to find so little of them (as they are now in Perfection) in his Works; we should know that this Character is not to be understood at large, as if he had included the full and regular Systems of every thing: He is to be consider'd professedly only in Quality of a Poet; this was his Business, to which, as whatever he knew was to be subservient, so he has not fail'd to introduce those Strokes of Knowledge from the whole Circle of Arts and Sciences, which the Subject demanded either for Necessity or Ornament. This will appear on a fair View of him in each of these Lights.
History.
Before his Time there were no
Historians
in
Greece:
He treated Historically of past Transactions, according as he could be inform'd by Tradition, Song, or whatever Method there was of preserving their Memory. For this we have the Consent of Antiquity; they have generally more appeal'd to his Authority, and more insisted on it than on the Testimony of any other Writer, when they treat of the Rites, Customs, and Manners of the first Times. They have generally believ'd that the Acts of
Tydeus
at
Thebes,
the second Siege of that City, the Settlement of
Rhodes,
the Battel between the
Curetes
and the
Aetolians,
the Account of the Kings of
Mycenae
by the Sceptre of
Agamemnon,
the Acts of the
Greeks
at
Troy,
and many other such Accounts, are some of them wholly preserv'd by him, and the rest as faithfully related as by any Historian. Nor perhaps was all of his Invention which seems to be feign'd, but rather frequently the obscure Traces and Remains of real Persons and Actions; which as
Strabo,
l.
1.
Strabo
observes, when History was transmitted by Oral Tradition, might be mix'd with Fable before it came into the Hands of the Poet.
"This happen'd (says he) to
Herodotus,
the first professed Historian, who is often as fabulous as
Homer
when he defers to the common Reports of Countreys; and it is not to be reckon'd to either as a fault, but as a necessity of the Times."
Nay, the very Passages which cause us to tax them at this distance with being fabulous, might be occasion'd by their Diligence, and a fear of erring, if they too hastily rejected those Reports which had pass'd current in the Nations they describ'd.
Geography.
Before his Time there was no such thing as
Geography
in
Greece.
For this we have the Suffrage of
Strabo,
ibid. initio.
Strabo
the best of Geographers, who approves the Opinion of
Hipparchus
and other Ancients, that
Homer
was the very Author of it; and upon this Account begins his Treatise of the Science itself with an
Encomium
on him. As to the general Part of it, we find he had a Knowledge of the
Earth
's being surrounded with the
Ocean,
because he makes the
Sun
and
Stars
both to rise and set in it; and that he knew the
Use
of the
Stars
is plain from his making
Odyss.
l.
5. ℣. 272.
Ulysses
sail by the Observation of them. But the Instance oftnest alledg'd upon this Point is the
Iliad 18. ℣. 482,
&c.
Shield
of
Achilles:
where he places the
Earth
encompass'd with the
Sea,
and gives the Stars the Names they are yet known by, as the
Hyades, Pleiades,
the
Bear,
and
Orion.
By the three first of these he represents the Constellations of the Northern Region; and in the last he gives a single Representative of the Southern, to which (as it were for a counter-balance) he adds a Title of Greatness,
. Then he tells us that the
Bear,
or
Stars
of the
Arctick Circle,
never disappear; as an Observation which agrees with no other. And if to this we add (what
Eratosthenes
thought he meant) that the five Plates which were fastened on the Shield, divided it by the Lines where they met, into the five
Zones,
it will appear an original design of
Globes
and
Spheres.
In the particular Parts of
Geography,
his Knowledge is intirely incontestable.
Strabo
refers to him upon all occasions, allowing that he knew the Extreams of the Earth, some of which he names and others describes by Signs, as the
Fortunate Islands.
The same
Strabo,
l.
1.
Author takes notice of his Accounts concerning the several Soils, Plants, Animals, and Customs; as
Aegypt
's being fertile of medicinal Herbs,
Lybia
's Fruitfulness, where the Sheep have Horns, and yean thrice a Year,
&c.
which are Knowledges that make
Geography
more various and profitable. But what all have agreed to celebrate is his Description of
Greece;
which has had Laws made for its Preservation, and Contests between Governments decided by its Authority: Which
Strab.
l.
8.
Strabo
acknowledges to have no Epithet, or ornamental Expression for any Place, that is not drawn from its Nature, Quality, or Circumstances; and professes after so long an Interval to deviate from it only where the Countrey had undergone Alterations, that cast the Description into Obscurity.
Rhetorick.
In his time,
Rhetorick
was not known; that Art took its Rise out of Poetry, which was not 'till then establish'd.
"The Oratorial Elocution (says
Strabo,
l.
1.
Strabo
) is but an Imitation of the Poetical: this appear'd first and was approv'd: They who imitated it took off the Measures, but still preserv'd all the other Parts of Poetry in their Writings: Such as these were
Cadmus
the
Milesian, Pherecydes,
and
Hecataeus.
Then their Followers took something more from what was left, and at last Elocution descended into the Prose which is now among us."
But if
Rhetorick
is owing to Poetry, the Obligation is still more due to
Homer.
He (as
Quintil.
l.
10.
cap.
1.
Quintilian
tells us) gave both the Pattern and Rise to all the Parts of it.
"
Hic omnibus eloquentiae partibus exemplum & ortum dedit: hunc nemo in magnis rebus sublimitate, in parvis proprietate, superavit. Idem laetus & pressus, jucundus & gravis, tùm copiâ tùm brevitate admirabilis, nec Poeticâ modò sed oratoriâ virtute eminentissimus.
"
From him therefore they who settled the Art found it proper to deduce the Rules, which was easily done, when they had divided their Observations into the
Kinds
and the
Ornaments
of Elocution. For the
Kinds,
the
"Ancients (says
Aulus Gell.
l.
7.
cap.
14.
A. Gell.
) settled them according to the three which they observe in his principal Speakers; his
Ulysses
who is magnificent and flowing, his
Menelaus
who is short and close, and his
Nestor
who is moderate and dispassion'd, and has a kind of middle Eloquence participating of both the former."
And for the
Ornaments,
Arist.
Topic.
Aristotle,
the great Master of the Rhetoricians, shows what deference is paid to
Homer,
when he orders the Orator to lay down his Heads, and express both the Manners and Affections of his Work with an Imitation of that Diction, and those Figures, which the
divine Homer
excel'd in. This is the constant Language of those who succeeded him, and the Opinion so far prevail'd as to make
Quintil.
l.
10.
Quintilian
observe, that they who have written concerning the Arts of Speaking, take from
Homer
most of the Instances of their Similitudes, Amplifications, Examples, Digressions, and Arguments.
Natural Philosophy.
As to
Natural Philosophy,
the Age was not arriv'd in which it flourish'd; however some of its Notions may be trac'd in him. As when he says that the Fountains and Rivers come from the Ocean, he holds a
Circulation of Fluids
in the Earth. But as this is a Branch of Learning which does not lie much in the way of a Poet who speaks of Heroes and Wars; the desire to prove his Knowledge this way has only run
Politian,
Praesatio in Hom.
Politian
and others into trifling Inferences: as when they would have it that he understood Nature, because he mentions Sun, Rain, Wind, and Thunder. The most probable way of making out his Knowledge in this kind, is by supposing he couch'd it in
Allegories;
and that he sometimes us'd the
Names of the Gods
as his
Terms
for the
Elements,
as the
Chymists
now use them for
Metals.
But in applying this to him we must tread very carefully; not searching for Allegory too industriously where the Passage may instruct by Example; and endeavouring rather to find the Fable an Ornament to what is easily known, than to make it a Cover to curious and unknown Problems.
Physick.
As for
Medicine,
something of it must have been understood in that Age, though it was so far from Perfection that (according to
Celsus,
lib.
1.
Celsus
) what concern'd Diet was invented long afterwards by
Hippocrates.
The Accidents of Life make the Search after Remedies too indispensible a Duty to be neglected at any time. Accordingly he
Odvss.
l.
4. ℣. 231.
tells us, that the
Aegyptians
who had many medicinal Plants in their Countrey, were all Physicians: and perhaps he might have learnt his own Skill from his Acquaintance with that Nation. The State of War which
Greece
had liv'd in, requir'd a Knowledge in the healing of Wounds: and this might make him breed his Princes,
Achilles, Patroclus, Podalirius,
and
Machaon
to the Science. What
Homer
thus attributes to others he knew himself, and he has given us reason to believe, not slightly. For if we consider his Insight into the Structure of the human Body, it is so nice, that he has been judg'd by some to have wounded his Heroes with too much Science: Or if we observe his Cure of Wounds, which are the Accidents proper to an Epic Poem, we find him directing the Chirurgical Operation, sometimes infusing
Il. 4. ℣. 218
and
Il. 11.
in fine.
Lenitives, and at other times bitter Powders, when the Effusion of Blood requir'd astringent Qualities.
Statuary.
For
Statuary,
it appears by the Accounts of
Aegypt
and the
Palladium,
that there was enough of it very early in the World for those Images which were requir'd in the Worship of their Gods; but there are none mention'd as valuable in
Greece
so early, nor was the Art establish'd on its Rules before
Homer.
He found it agreeable to the Worship in use, and necessary for his Machinery, that his Gods should be cloath'd in Bodies: Wherefore he took care to give them such as carry'd the utmost Perfection of the human Form; and distinguish'd them from each other even in this superior Beauty, with such Marks as were agreeable to each of the Deities.
"This, says
Strabo,
l.
8.
Strabo,
awaken'd the Conceptions of the eminent Statuaries, while they strove to keep up the Grandeur of that Idea which
Homer
had impress'd upon their Imagination; as we read of
Phidias
concerning the Statue of
Jupiter.
"
And because they copy'd their Gods from him in their best Performances, his Descriptions became the
Characters
which were afterwards pursu'd in all Works of a good Taste. Hence came the common Saying of the Ancients,
"That either
Homer
was the only Man who had seen the Forms of the Gods, or the only one who had shown them to Men;"
a Passage which
Dacier,
Preface to
Homer.
Madam
Dacier
wrests to prove the Truth of his Theology, different from
Strabo
's Acceptation of it.
There are, besides what we have spoken of, other Sciences pretended to be found in him. Thus
Macrobius
discovers that the
Chain
with which
Il. 8. ℣. 19.
Vid
Macrob.
de somn. Scip. l.
1.
c.
14.
Jupiter
says he could lift the World, is a metaphysical Notion, that means a Connexion of all Things from the supream Being to the meanest Part of the Creation. Others, to prove him skilful in judicial Astrology, bring a Quotation concerning the Births of
Il. 18. ℣. 252.
Hector
and
Polydamas
on the same Night; who were nevertheless of different Qualifications, one excelling in War, and the other in Eloquence. Others again will have him to be vers'd in Magick, from his Stories concerning
Ciree.
These and many of the like Nature are Interpretations strain'd or trifling, such as
Homer
does not want for a Proof of his Learning, and by which we contribute nothing to raise his Character, while we sacrifice our Judgment to him in the Eyes of others.
It is sufficient to have gone thus far, in shewing he was a Father of Learning, a Soul capable of ranging over the whole Creation with an intellectual View, shining alone in an Age of Obscurity, and shining beyond those who have had the Opportunity of more learned Ages; leaving behind him a Work adorn'd with the Knowledge of his own Time, and in which he has before-hand broken up the Fountains of several Sciences which were brought nearer to Perfection by Posterity: A Work which shall always stand at the top of the sublime Character, to be gaz'd at by Readers with an Admiration of its Perfection, and by Writers with a Despair that it should ever be emulated with Success.
FINIS.
ERRATA in the ESSAY.
PAge 15. line 34. for
brings him,
read
brings it.
Pag. 17. in the References at the bottom, for
, read
, and for
, read
. Pag. 36. in the Citation from
Horace,
for
Argue,
read
Arguet.
TROJA cum Locis pertingentibus. 1. Porta Scoea & Fagus. 2. Caprificus. 3. Fonles Scamandri duo. 4. Callicolone prope Simoim. 5. Batiea seu Sepulcrum Myrinnes. 6. Jli Monimentum. 7. Tumulus. Esiclis AA. Murus Achivorum. B. Locus Pugnoe ante naves in lib. 8. 12. 13. 14. C. Gesta Diomedis hoc loco lib. 5. D. Achillis & Scamandri Certalio lib. 22. E. Locus Pugnoe in lib. 6. F. Pugnoe in lib. 11. G. Pugnoe in lib. 20.
THE FIRST BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The ARGUMENT.
The Contention of
Achilles
and
Agamemnon.
IN the War of
Troy,
the
Greeks
having sack'd some of the neighbouring Towns, and taken from thence two beautiful Captives,
Chruseis
and
Briseis,
allotted the first to
Agagamemnon,
and the last to
Achilles. Chryses,
the Father of
Chruseis
and Priest of
Apollo,
comes to the
Grecian
Camp to ransome her; with which the Action of the Poem opens, in the Tenth Year of the Siege. The Priest being refus'd and insolently dismiss'd by
Agamemnon,
intreats for Vengeance from his God, who inflicts a Pestilence on the
Greeks. Achilles
calls a Council, and encourages
Chalcas
to declare the Cause of it, who attributes it to the Refusal of
Chruseis.
The King being obliged to send back his Captive, enters into a furious Contest with
Achilles,
which
Nestor
pacifies; however as he had the absolute Command of the Army, he seizes on
Briseis
in revenge.
Achilles
in discontent withdraws himself and his Forces from the rest of the
Greeks;
and complaining to
Thetis,
she supplicates
Jupiter
to render them sensible of the Wrong done to her Son, by giving Victory to the
Trojans. Jupiter
granting her Suit incenses
Juno,
between whom the Debate runs high, 'till they are reconciled by the Address of
Vulcan.
The
Time
of two and twenty Days is taken up in this Book; nine during the Plague, one in the Council and Quarrel of the Princes, and twelve for
Jupiter
's Stay with the
Aethiopians,
at whose Return
Thetis
prefers her Petition. The Scene lies in the
Grecian
Camp, then changes to
Chrysa,
and lastly to the Gods on
Olympus.
THE FIRST BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
THE Wrath of
Peleus'
Son, the direful Spring
Of all the
Grecian
Woes, O Goddess, sing!
That Wrath which hurl'd to
Pluto
's gloomy Reign
The Souls of mighty Chiefs untimely slain;
Whose Limbs unbury'd on the naked Shore
Devouring Dogs and hungry Vultures tore.
Since Great
Achilles
and
Atrides
strove,
Such was the Sov'reign Doom, and such the Will of
Jove.
Declare, O Muse! in what ill-fated Hour
Sprung the fierce Strife, from what offended Pow'r?
Latona
's Son a dire Contagion spread,
And heap'd the Camp with Mountains of the Dead;
The King of Men his Rev'rend Priest defy'd,
And, for the King's Offence, the People dy'd.
For
Chryses
sought with costly Gifts to gain
His Captive Daughter from the Victor's Chain.
Suppliant the Venerable Father stands,
Apollo
's awful Ensigns grace his Hands:
By these he begs; and lowly bending down,
Extends the Sceptre and the Laurel Crown.
He su'd to All, but chief implor'd for Grace
The Brother-Kings, of
Atreus'
Royal Race.
Ye Kings and Warriors! may your Vows be crown'd,
And
Troy's
proud Walls lie level with the Ground.
May
Jove
restore you, when your Toils are o'er,
Safe to the Pleasures of your native Shore.
But oh! relieve a wretched Parent's Pain,
And give
Chruseis
to these Arms again;
If Mercy fail, yet let my Presents move,
And dread avenging
Phoebus,
Son of
Jove.
The
Greeks
in Shouts their joint Assent declare
The Priest to rev'rence, and release the Fair.
Not so
Atrides:
He, with Kingly Pride,
Repuls'd the sacred Sire, and thus reply'd.
Hence on thy Life, and fly these hostile Plains,
Nor ask, Presumptuous, what the King detains;
Hence, with thy Laurel Crown, and Golden Rod,
Nor trust too far those Ensigns of thy God.
Mine is thy Daughter, Priest, and shall remain;
And Pray'rs, and Tears, and Bribes shall plead in vain;
'Till Time shall rifle ev'ry youthful Grace,
And Age dismiss her from my cold Embrace,
In daily Labours of the Loom employ'd,
Or doom'd to deck the Bed she once enjoy'd.
Hence then: to
Argos
shall the Maid retire;
Far from her native Soil, and weeping Sire.
The trembling Priest along the Shore return'd,
And in the Anguish of a Father mourn'd.
Disconsolate, nor daring to complain,
Silent he wander'd by the sounding Main:
'Till, safe at distance, to his God he prays,
The God who darts around the World his Rays.
O
Smintheus!
sprung from fair
Latona
's Line,
Thou Guardian Pow'r of
Cilla
the Divine,
Thou Source of Light! whom
Tenedos
adores,
And whose bright Presence gilds thy
Chrysa
's Shores.
If e'er with Wreaths I hung thy sacred Fane,
Or fed the Flames with Fat of Oxen slain;
God of the Silver Bow! thy Shafts employ,
Avenge thy Servant, and the
Greeks
destroy.
Thus
Chryses
pray'd: the fav'ring Pow'r attends,
And from
Olympus'
lofty Tops descends.
Bent was his Bow, the
Grecian
Hearts to wound;
Fierce as he mov'd, his Silver Shafts resound.
Breathing Revenge, a sudden Night he spread,
And gloomy Darkness roll'd around his Head.
The Fleet in View, he twang'd his deadly Bow,
And hissing fly the feather'd Fates below.
On Mules and Dogs th' Infection first began,
And last, the vengeful Arrows fix'd in Man.
For nine long Nights, thro' all the dusky Air
The Fires thick-flaming shot a dismal Glare.
But ere the tenth revolving Day was run,
Inspir'd by
Juno, Thetis'
God-like Son
Conven'd to Council all the
Grecian
Train;
For much the Goddess mourn'd her Heroes slain.
Th' Assembly seated, rising o'er the rest,
Achilles
thus the King of Men addrest.
Why leave we not the fatal
Trojan
Shore,
And measure back the Seas we crost before?
The Plague destroying whom the Sword would spare,
'Tis time to save the few Remains of War.
But let some Prophet, or some sacred Sage,
Explore the Cause of great
Apollo
's Rage;
Or learn the wastful Vengeance to remove,
By mystic Dreams; for Dreams descend from
Jove.
If broken Vows this heavy Curse have laid,
Let Altars smoke, and Hecatombs be paid.
So Heav'n aton'd shall dying
Greece
restore,
And
Phoebus
dart his burning Shafts no more.
He said and sate: when
Chalcas
thus reply'd,
Chalcas
the wise, the
Grecian
Priest and Guide,
That sacred Seer whose comprehensive View
The past, the present, and the future knew.
Uprising slow, the venerable Sage
Thus spoke the Prudence and the Fears of Age.
Belov'd of
Jove, Achilles!
wou'dst thou know
Why angry
Phoebus
bends his fatal Bow?
First give thy Faith, and plight a Prince's Word
Of sure Protection by thy Pow'r and Sword.
For I must speak what Wisdom would conceal,
And Truths invidious to the Great reveal.
Bold is the Task, when Subjects grown too wise
Instruct a Monarch where his Error lies;
For tho' we deem the short-liv'd Fury past,
'Tis sure, the Mighty will revenge at last.
To whom
Pelides.
From thy inmost Soul
Speak what thou know'st, and speak without controul.
Ev'n by that God I swear, who rules the Day;
To whom thy Hands the Vows of
Greece
convey,
And whose blest Oracles thy Lips declare;
Long as
Achilles
breathes this vital Air,
No daring
Greek
of all the num'rous Band,
Against his Priest shall lift an impious Hand:
Not ev'n the Chief by whom our Hosts are led,
The King of Kings, shall touch that sacred Head.
Encourag'd thus, the blameless Priest replies:
Nor Vows unpaid, nor slighted Sacrifice,
But He, our Chief, provok'd the raging Pest,
Appollo
's Vengeance for his injur'd Priest.
Nor will the God's awaken'd Fury cease,
But Plagues shall spread, and Fun'ral Fires increase,
'Till the great King, without a Ransom paid,
To her own
Chrysa
send the black-ey'd Maid.
Perhaps, with added Sacrifice and Pray'r,
The Priest may pardon, and the God may spare.
The Prophet spoke; when with a gloomy Frown,
The Monarch started from his shining Throne;
Black Choler fill'd his Breast that boil'd with Ire,
And from his Eyeballs flash'd the living Fire.
Augur accurst! denouncing Mischief still,
Prophet of Plagues, for ever boding Ill!
Still must that Tongue some wounding Message bring,
And still thy Priestly Pride provoke thy King?
For this are
Phoebus'
Oracles explor'd,
To teach the
Greeks
to murmur at their Lord?
For this with Falshoods is my Honour stain'd;
Is Heav'n offended, and a Priest profan'd,
Because my Prize, my beauteous Maid I hold,
And heav'nly Charms prefer to proffer'd Gold?
A Maid, unmatch'd in Manners as in Face,
Skill'd in each Art, and crown'd with ev'ry Grace.
Not half so dear were
Clytemnestra
's Charms,
When first her blooming Beauties blest my Arms.
Yet if the Gods demand her, let her sail;
Our Cares are only for the Publick Weal:
Let me be deem'd the hateful Cause of all,
And suffer, rather than my People fall.
The Prize, the beauteous Prize I will resign,
So dearly valu'd, and so justly mine.
But since for common Good I yield the Fair,
My private Loss let grateful
Greece
repair;
Nor unrewarded let your Prince complain,
That He alone has fought and bled in vain.
Insatiate King (
Achilles
thus replies)
Fond of the Pow'r, but fonder of the Prize!
Would'st thou the
Greeks
their lawful Prey shou'd yield,
The due Reward of many a well-fought Field?
The Spoils of Cities raz'd, and Warriors slain,
We share with Justice, as with Toil we gain:
But to resume whate'er thy Av'rice craves,
(That Trick of Tyrants) may be born by Slaves.
Yet if our Chief for Plunder only fight,
The Spoils of
Ilion
shall thy Loss requite,
Whene'er, by
Jove
's Decree, our conqu'ring Pow'rs
Shall humble to the Dust her lofty Tow'rs.
Then thus the King. Shall I my Prize resign
With tame Content, and Thou possest of thine?
Great as thou art, and like a God in Fight,
Think not to rob me of a Soldier's Right.
At thy Demand shall I restore the Maid?
First let the just Equivalent be paid;
Such as a King might ask; and let it be
A Treasure worthy Her, and worthy Me.
Or grant me this, or with a Monarch's Claim
This Hand shall seize some other Captive Dame.
The mighty
Ajax
shall his Prize resign,
Ulysses'
Spoils, or ev'n thy own be mine.
The Man who suffers, loudly may complain;
And rage he may, but he shall rage in vain.
But this when Time requires—It now remains
We launch a Bark to plow the watry Plains,
And waft the Sacrifice to
Chrysa
's Shores,
With chosen Pilots, and with lab'ring Oars.
Soon shall the Fair the sable Ship ascend,
And some deputed Prince the Charge attend;
This
Creta
's King, or
Ajax
shall fulfill,
Or wise
Ulysses
see perform'd our Will,
Or, if our Royal Pleasure shall ordain,
Achilles
self conduct her o'er the Main;
Let fierce
Achilles,
dreadful in his Rage,
The God propitiate, and the Pest asswage.
At this,
Pelides
frowning stern, reply'd:
O Tyrant, arm'd with Insolence and Pride!
Inglorious Slave to Int'rest, ever join'd
With Fraud, unworthy of a Royal Mind.
What gen'rous
Greek
obedient to thy Word,
Shall form an Ambush, or shall lift the Sword?
What Cause have I to war at thy Decree?
The distant
Trojans
never injur'd me.
To
Pthia
's Realms no hostile Troops they led;
Safe in her Vales my warlike Coursers fed:
Far hence remov'd, the hoarse-resounding Main
And Walls of Rocks, secure my native Reign,
Whose fruitful Soil luxuriant Harvests grace,
Rich in her Fruits, and in her martial Race.
Hither we sail'd, a voluntary Throng,
T' avenge a private, not a publick Wrong:
What else to
Troy
th' assembled Nations draws,
But thine, Ungrateful, and thy Brother's Cause?
Is this the Pay our Blood and Toils deserve,
Disgrac'd and injur'd by the Man we serve?
And dar'st thou threat to snatch my Prize away,
Due to the Deeds of many a dreadful Day?
A Prize as small, O Tyrant! match'd with thine,
As thy own Actions if compar'd to mine.
Thine in each Conquest is the wealthy Prey,
Tho' mine the Sweat and Danger of the Day.
Some trivial Present to my Ships I bear,
Or barren Praises pay the Wounds of War.
But know, proud Monarch, I'm thy Slave no more;
My Fleet shall waft me to
Thessalia
's Shore.
Left by
Achilles
on the
Trojan
Plain,
What Spoils, what Conquests shall
Atrides
gain?
To this the King: Fly, mighty Warriour! fly,
Thy Aid we need not, and thy Threats defy.
There want not Chiefs in such a Cause to fight,
And
Jove
himself shall guard a Monarch's Right.
Of all the Kings (the Gods distinguish'd Care)
To Pow'r superior none such Hatred bear:
Strife and Debate thy restless Soul employ,
And Wars and Horrors are thy savage Joy.
If thou hast Strength, 'twas Heav'n that Strength bestow'd,
For know, vain Man! thy Valour is from God.
Haste, launch thy Vessels, fly with Speed away,
Rule thy own Realms with arbitrary Sway:
I heed thee not, but prize at equal rate
Thy short-liv'd Friendship, and thy groundless Hate.
Go, threat thy Earth-born
Myrmidons;
but here
'Tis mine to threaten, Prince, and thine to fear.
Know, if the God the beauteous Dame demand,
My Bark shall waft her to her native Land;
But then prepare, Imperious Prince! prepare,
Fierce as thou art, to yield thy captive Fair:
Ev'n in thy Tent I'll seize the blooming Prize,
Thy lov'd
Briseïs
with the radiant Eyes.
Hence shalt thou prove my Might, and curse the Hour,
Thou stood'st a Rival of Imperial Pow'r;
And hence to all our Host it shall be known,
That Kings are subject to the Gods alone.
Achilles
heard, with Grief and Rage opprest,
His Heart swell'd high, and labour'd in his Breast.
Distracting Thoughts by turns his Bosom rul'd,
Now fir'd by Wrath, and now by Reason cool'd:
That prompts his Hand to draw the deadly Sword,
Force thro' the
Greeks,
and pierce their haughty Lord;
This whispers soft his Vengeance to controul,
And calm the rising Tempest of his Soul.
Just as in Anguish of Suspence he stay'd,
While half unsheath'd appear'd the glitt'ring Blade,
Minerva
swift descended from above,
Sent by the
Juno.
Sister and the Wife of
Jove;
(For both the Princes claim'd her equal Care)
Behind she stood, and by the Golden Hair
Achilles
seiz'd; to him alone confest;
A sable Cloud conceal'd her from the rest.
He saw, and sudden to the Goddess cries,
Known by the Flames that sparkled from her Eyes.
Descends
Minerva,
in her guardian Care,
A heav'nly Witness of the Wrongs I bear
From
Atreus'
Son? Then let those Eyes that view
The daring Crime, behold the Vengeance too.
Forbear! (the Progeny of
Jove
replies)
To calm thy Fury I forsook the Skies:
Let great
Achilles,
to the Gods resign'd,
To Reason yield the Empire o'er his Mind.
By awful
Juno
this Command is giv'n;
The King and You are both the Care of Heav'n.
The Force of keen Reproaches let him feel,
But sheath, Obedient, thy revenging Steel.
For I pronounce (and trust a heav'nly Pow'r)
Thy injur'd Honour has its fated Hour,
When the proud Monarch shall thy Arms implore,
And bride thy Friendship with a boundless Store.
Then let Revenge no longer bear the Sway,
Command thy Passions, and the Gods obey.
To her
Pelides.
With regardful Ear
'Tis just, O Goddess! I thy Dictates hear.
Hard as it is, my Vengeance I suppress:
Those who revere the Gods, the Gods will bless.
He said, observant of the blue-ey'd Maid;
Then in the Sheath return'd the shining Blade.
The Goddess swift to high
Olympus
flies,
And joins the sacred Senate of the Skies.
Nor yet the Rage his boiling Breast forsook,
Which thus redoubling on the Monarch broke.
O Monster, mix'd of Insolence and Fear,
Thou Dog in Forehead, but in Heart a Deer!
When wert thou known in ambush'd Fights to dare,
Or nobly face the horrid Front of War?
'Tis ours, the Chance of fighting Fields to try,
Thine to look on, and bid the Valiant dye.
So much 'tis safer thro' the Camp to go,
And rob a Subject, than despoil a Foe.
Scourage of thy People, violent and base!
Sent in
Jove
's Anger on a slavish Race,
Who lost to Sense of gen'rous Freedom past
Are tam'd to Wrongs, or this had been thy last.
Now by this sacred Sceptre, hear me swear,
Which never more shall Leaves or Blossoms bear,
Which sever'd from the Trunk (as I from thee)
On the bare Mountains left its Parent Tree;
This Sceptre, form'd by temper'd Steel to prove
An Ensign of the Delegates of
Jove,
From whom the Pow'r of Laws and Justice springs:
(Tremendous Oath! inviolate to Kings)
By this I swear, when bleeding
Greece
again
Shall call
Achilles,
she shall call in vain.
When flush'd with Slaughter,
Hector
comes, to spread
The purpled Shore with Mountains of the Dead,
Then shalt thou mourn th' Affront thy Madness gave,
Forc'd to deplore, when impotent to save:
Then rage in Bitterness of Soul, to know
This Act has made the bravest
Greek
thy Foe.
He spoke; and furious, hurl'd against the Ground
His Sceptre starr'd with golden Studs around.
Then sternly silent sate: With like Disdain,
The raging King return'd his Frowns again.
To calm their Passion with the Words of Age,
Slow from his Seat arose the
Pylian
Sage;
Th' experienc'd
Nestor,
in Persuasion skill'd,
Words, sweet as Honey, from his Lips distill'd:
Two Generations now had past away,
Wise by his Rules, and happy by his Sway;
Two Ages o'er his native Realm he reign'd,
And now th' Example of the third remain'd.
All view'd with Awe the Venerable Man;
Who thus, with mild Benevolence, began;
What Shame, what Woe is this to
Greece!
what Joy
To
Troy
's proud Monarch, and the Friends of
Troy!
That adverse Gods commit to stern Debate
The best, the bravest of the
Grecian
State.
Young as you are, this youthful Heat restrain,
Nor think your
Nestor
's Years and Wisdom vain.
A Godlike Race of Heroes once I knew,
Such, as no more these aged Eyes shall view!
Lives there a Chief to match
Pirithous'
Fame,
Dryas
the bold, or
Ceneus'
deathless Name.
Theseus,
endu'd with more than mortal Might,
Or
Polyphemus,
like the Gods in Fight?
With these of old to Toils of Battel bred,
In early Youth my hardy Days I led;
Fir'd with the Thirst which Virtuous Envy breeds,
And smit with Love of Honourable Deeds.
Strongest of Men, they pierc'd the Mountain Boar,
Rang'd the wild Desarts red with Monsters Gore,
And from their Hills the shaggy
Centaurs
tore.
Yet these with soft, persuasive Arts I sway'd,
When
Nestor
spoke, they listen'd and obey'd.
If, in my Youth, ev'n these esteem'd me wise,
Do you, young Warriors, hear my Age advise.
Atrides,
seize not on the beauteous Slave;
That Prize the
Greeks
by common Suffrage gave:
Nor, thou,
Achilles,
treat our Prince with Pride;
Let Kings be just, and Sov'reign Pow'r preside.
Thee, the first Honours of the War adorn,
Like Gods in Strength, and of a Goddess born;
Him awful Majesty exalts above
The Pow'rs of Earth, and sceptred Sons of
Jove.
Let both unite, with well-consenting Mind,
So shall Authority with Strength be join'd.
Leave me, O King! to calm
Achilles'
Rage;
Rule thou thy self, as more advanc'd in Age.
Forbid it Gods!
Achilles
should be lost,
The Pride of
Greece,
and Bulwark of our Host.
This said, he ceas'd: The King of Men replies;
Thy Years are awful, and thy Words are wise.
But that imperious, that unconquer'd Soul,
No Laws can limit, no Respect controul.
Before his Pride must his Superiors fall,
His Word the Law, and He the Lord of all?
Him must our Hosts, our Chiefs, our Self obey?
What King can bear a Rival in his Sway?
Grant that the Gods his matchless Force have giv'n;
Has foul Reproach a Privilege from Heav'n?
Here on the Monarch's Speech
Achilles
broke,
And furious, thus, and interrupting spoke.
Tyrant, I well deserv'd thy galling Chain,
To live thy Slave, and still to serve in vain,
Should I submit to each unjust Decree:
Command thy Vassals, but command not Me.
Seize on
Briseïs,
whom the
Grecians
doom'd
My Prize of War, yet tamely see resum'd;
And seize secure; No more
Achilles
draws
His conqu'ring Sword in any Woman's Cause.
The Gods command me to forgive the past;
But let this first Invasion be the last:
For know, thy Blood, when next thou dar'st invade,
Shall stream in Vengeance on my reeking Blade.
At this, they ceas'd; the stern Debate expir'd:
The Chiefs in sullen Majesty retir'd.
Achilles
with
Patroclus
took his Way.
Where near his Tents his hollow Vessels lay.
Mean time
Atrides
launch'd with num'rous Oars
A well-rigg'd Ship for
Chrysa
's sacred Shores:
High on the Deck was fair
Chruseis
plac'd,
And sage
Ulysses
with the Conduct grac'd:
Safe in her Sides the Hecatomb they stow'd,
Then swiftly sailing, cut the liquid Road.
The Host to expiate next the King prepares,
With pure Lustrations, and with solemn Pray'rs.
Wash'd by the briny Wave, the pious Train
Are cleans'd, and cast th' Ablutions in the Main.
Along the Shore whole Hecatombs were laid,
And Bulls and Goats to
Phoebus'
Altars paid.
The sable Fumes in curling Spires arise,
And waft their grateful Odours to the Skies.
The Army thus in sacred Rites engag'd,
Atrides
still with deep Resentment rag'd.
To wait his Will two sacred Heralds stood,
Talthybius
and
Eurybates
the good.
Haste to the fierce
Achilles'
Tent (he cries)
Thence bear
Briseïs
as our Royal Prize:
Submit he must; or if they will not part,
Ourself in Arms shall tear her from his Heart.
Th' unwilling Heralds act their Lord's Commands;
Pensive they walk along the barren Sands:
Arriv'd, the Heroe in his Tent they find,
With gloomy Aspect, on his Arm reclin'd.
At awful Distance long they silent stand,
Loth to advance, or speak their hard Command;
Decent Confusion! This the Godlike Man
Perceiv'd, and thus with Accent mild began.
With Leave and Honour enter our Abodes,
Ye sacred Ministers of Men and Gods!
I know your Message; by Constraint you came;
Not you, but your Imperious Lord I blame.
Patroclus
haste, the fair
Briseïs
bring;
Conduct my Captive to the haughty King.
But witness, Heralds, and proclaim my Vow,
Witness to Gods above, and Men below!
But first, and loudest, to your Prince declare,
That lawless Tyrant whose Commands you bear;
Unmov'd as Death
Achilles
shall remain,
Tho' prostrate
Greece
should bleed at ev'ry Vein:
The raging Chief in frantick Passion lost,
Blind to himself, and useless to his Host,
Unskill'd to judge the Future by the Past,
In Blood and Slaughter shall repent at last.
Patroclus
now th' unwilling Beauty brought;
She, in soft Sorrows, and in pensive Thought,
Supported by the Chiefs on either Hand,
In Silence past along the winding Strand.
Not so his Loss the fierce
Achilles
bore;
But sad retiring to the sounding Shore,
O'er the wild Margin of the Deep he hung,
That kindred Deep, from whence his Mother sprung.
There, bath'd in Tears of Anger and Disdain,
Thus loud lamented to the stormy Main.
O Parent Goddess! since in early Bloom
Thy Son must fall, by too severe a Doom;
Sure, to so short a Race of Glory born,
Great
Jove
in Justice should this Span adorn:
Honour and Fame at least the Thund'rer ow'd,
And ill he pays the Promise of a God;
If yon proud Monarch thus thy Son defies,
Obscures my Glories, and resumes my Prize.
Far in the deep Recesses of the Main,
Where aged
Ocean
holds his wat'ry Reign,
The Goddess-Mother heard. The Waves divide;
And like a Mist she rose above the Tide;
Beheld him mourning on the naked Shores,
And thus the Sorrows of his Soul explores.
Why grieves my Son? Thy Anguish let me share,
Reveal the Cause, and trust a Parent's Care.
He deeply sighing said: To tell my Woe,
Is but to mention what too well you know.
From
Thebe
sacred to
Apollo
's Name,
(
Aetion
's Realm) our conqu'ring Army came,
With Treasure loaded and triumphant Spoils,
Whose just Division crown'd the Soldier's Toils;
But bright
Chruseïs,
heav'nly Prize! was led
By Vote selected, to the Gen'ral's Bed.
The Priest of
Phoebus
sought by Gifts to gain
His beauteous Daughter from the Victor's Chain;
The Fleet he reach'd, and lowly bending down,
Held forth the Sceptre and the Laurel Crown,
Entreating All: but chief implor'd for Grace
The Brother Kings of
Atreus'
Royal Race:
The gen'rous
Greeks
their joint Consent declare,
The Priest to rev'rence, and release the Fair;
Not so
Atrides:
He, with wonted Pride,
The Sire insulted, and his Gifts deny'd:
Th' insulted Sire (his God's peculiar Care)
To
Phoebus
pray'd, and
Phoebus
heard the Pray'r:
A dreadful Plague ensues; Th' avenging Darts
Incessant fly, and pierce the
Grecian
Hearts:
A Prophet then, inspir'd by Heav'n arose,
And points the Crime, and thence derives the Woes:
My self the first th' assembl'd Chiefs incline
T'avert the Vengeance of the Pow'r Divine;
Then rising in his Wrath, the Monarch storm'd;
Incens'd he threaten'd, and his Threats perform'd:
The fair
Chruseïs
to her Sire was sent,
With offer'd Gifts to make the God relent;
But now He seiz'd
Briseïs'
heav'nly Charms,
And of my Valour's Prize defrauds my Arms,
Defrauds the Votes of all the
Grecian
Train;
And Service, Faith, and Justice plead in vain.
But Goddess! thou, thy suppliant Son attend,
To high
Olympus'
shining Court ascend,
Urge all the Ties to former Service ow'd,
And sue for Vengeance to the Thund'ring God.
Oft hast thou triumph'd in the glorious Boast,
That thou stood'st forth, of all th'Aethereal Host,
When bold Rebellion shook the Realms above,
The undaunted Guard of Cloud-compelling
Jove.
When the bright Partner of his awful Reign,
The Warlike Maid, and Monarch of the Main,
The Traytor-Gods, by mad Ambition driv'n,
Durst threat with Chains th' Omnipotence of Heav'n.
Then call'd by thee: the Monster
Titan
came,
(Whom Gods
Briareus,
Men
Aegeon
name)
Thro' wondring Skies enormous stalk'd along;
Not
Neptune.
He that shakes the solid Earth so strong:
With Giant-Pride at
Jove
's high Throne he stands,
And brandish'd round him all his Hundred Hands;
Th' affrighted Gods confess'd their awful Lord,
They dropt the Fetters, trembled and ador'd.
This, Goddess, this to his Remembrance call,
Embrace his Knees, at his Tribunal fall;
Conjure him far to drive the
Grecian
Train,
To hurl them headlong to their Fleet and Main,
To heap the Shores with copious Death, and bring
The
Greeks
to know the Curse of such a King:
Let
Agamemnon
lift his haughty Head
O'er all his wide Dominion of the Dead,
And mourn in Blood, that e'er he durst disgrace
The boldest Warrior of the
Grecian
Race.
Unhappy Son! (fair
Thetis
thus replies,
While Tears Celestial trickled from her Eyes)
Why have I born thee with a Mother's Throes,
To Fates averse, and nurs'd for future Woes?
So short a Space the Light of Heav'n to view!
So short a Space, and fill'd with Sorrow too!
Oh might a Parent's careful Wish prevail,
Far, far from
Ilion
should thy Vessels sail,
And thou, from Camps remote, the Danger shun,
Which now, alas! too nearly threats my Son.
Yet (what I can) to move thy Suit I'll go,
To great
Olympus
crown'd with fleecy Snow.
Mean time, secure within thy Ships from far
Behold the Field, nor mingle in the War.
The Sire of Gods, and all th' Etherial Train,
On the warm Limits of the farthest Main,
Now mix with Mortals, nor disdain to grace
The Feasts of
Aethiopia
's blameless Race:
Twelve Days the Pow'rs indulge the Genial Rite,
Returning with the twelfth revolving Light.
Then will I mount the Brazen Dome, and move
The high Tribunal of Immortal
Jove.
The Goddess spoke: The rowling Waves unclose;
Then down the Deep she plung'd from whence she rose,
And left him sorrowing on the lonely Coast,
In wild Resentment for the Fair he lost.
In
Chrysa
's Port now sage
Ulysses
rode;
Beneath the Deck the destin'd Victims stow'd:
The Sails they furl'd, they lash'd the Mast aside,
And dropt their Anchors, and the Pinnace ty'd.
Next on the Shore their Hecatomb they land,
Chruseïs
last descending on the Strand.
Her, thus returning from the furrow'd Main,
Ulysses
led to
Phoebus
sacred Fane;
Where at his solemn Altar, as the Maid
He gave to
Chryses,
thus the Heroe said.
Hail Rev'rend Priest! to
Phoebus'
awful Dome
A Suppliant I from great
Atrides
come:
Unransom'd here receive the spotless Fair;
Accept the Hecatomb the
Greeks
prepare;
And may thy God who scatters Darts around,
Aton'd by Sacrifice, desist to wound.
At this, the Sire embrac'd the Maid again,
So sadly lost, so lately sought in vain.
Then near the Altar of the darting King,
Dispos'd in Rank their Hecatomb they bring:
With Water purify their Hands, and take
The sacred Off'ring of the salted Cake;
While thus with Arms devoutly rais'd in Air,
And solemn Voice, the Priest directs his Pray'r.
God of the Silver Bow, thy Ear incline,
Whose Power encircles
Cilla
the Divine,
Whose sacred Eye thy
Tenedos
surveys,
And gilds fair
Chrysa
with distinguish'd Rays!
If, fir'd to Vengeance at thy Priests request,
Thy direful Darts inflict the raging Pest;
Once more attend! avert the wastful Woe,
And smile propitious, and unbend thy Bow.
So
Chryses
pray'd,
Apollo
heard his Pray'r:
And now the
Greeks
their Hecatomb prepare;
Between their Horns the salted Barley threw,
And with their Heads to Heav'n the Victims slew:
The Limbs they sever from th' inclosing Hide;
The Thighs, selected to the Gods, divide:
On these, in double Cawls involv'd with Art,
The choicest Morsels lay from ev'ry Part.
The Priest himself before his Altar stands,
And burns the Victims with his holy Hands,
Pours the black Wine, and sees the Flames aspire;
The Youth with Instruments surround the Fire:
The Thighs thus sacrific'd, and Entrails drest,
Th'Assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest:
Then spread the Tables, the Repast prepare,
Each takes his Seat, and each receives his Share.
When now the Rage of Hunger was represt,
With pure Libations they conclude the Feast;
The Youths with Wine the copious Goblets crown'd,
And pleas'd, dispense the flowing Bowls around.
With Hymns Divine the joyous Banquet ends,
The
Paeans
lengthen'd 'till the Sun descends:
The
Greeks
restor'd the grateful Notes prolong;
Apollo
listens, and approves the Song.
'Twas Night: the Chiefs beside their Vessel lie,
'Till rosie Morn had purpled o'er the Sky:
Then launch, and hoise the Mast; Indulgent Gales
Supply'd by
Phoebus,
fill the swelling Sails;
The milk-white Canvas bellying as they blow;
The parted Ocean foams and roars below:
Above the bounding Billows swift they flew,
'Till now the
Grecian
Camp appear'd in view.
Far on the Beach they haul their Bark to Land,
(The crooked Keel divides the yellow Sand)
Then part, where stretch'd along the winding Bay
The Ships and Tents in mingled Prospect lay.
But raging still amidst his Navy sate
The stern
Achilles,
stedfast in his Hate;
Nor mix'd in Combate, nor in Council join'd,
But wasting Cares lay heavy on his Mind:
In his black Thoughts Revenge and Slaughter roll,
And Scenes of Blood rise dreadful in his Soul.
Twelve Days were past, and now the dawning Light
The Gods had summon'd to th'
Olympian
Height.
Jove
first ascending from the Wat'ry Bow'rs,
Leads the long Order of Aetherial Pow'rs.
When like a Morning Mist, in early Day,
Rose from the Flood the Daughter of the Sea;
And to the Seats Divine her Flight addrest.
There, far apart, and high above the rest,
The Thund'rer sate; where old
Olympus
shrouds
His hundred Heads in Heav'n, and props the Clouds.
Suppliant the Goddess stood: One Hand she plac'd
Beneath his Beard, and one his Knees embrac'd.
If e'er, O Father of the Gods! she said,
My Words cou'd please thee, or my Actions aid;
Some Marks of Honour on my Son bestow,
And pay in Glory what in Life you owe.
Fame is at least by Heav'nly Promise due
To Life so short, and now dishonour'd too.
Avenge this Wrong, oh ever just and wise!
Let
Greece
be humbled, and the
Trojans
rise;
'Till the proud King, and all th'
Achaian
Race
Shall heap with Honours him they now disgrace.
Thus
Thetis
spoke, but
Jove
in Silence held
The facred Counsels of his Breast conceal'd.
Not so repuls'd, the Goddess closer prest,
Still grasp'd his Knees, and urg'd the dear Request.
O Sire of Gods and Men! thy Suppliant hear,
Refuse, or grant; for what has
Jove
to fear?
Or oh declare, of all the Pow'rs above
Is wretched
Thetis
least the Care of
Jove?
She said, and sighing thus the God replies
Who rolls the Thunder o'er the vaulted Skies.
What hast thou ask'd? Ah why should
Jove
engage
In foreign Contests, and domestic Rage,
The Gods Complaints, and
Juno
's fierce Alarms,
While I, too partial, aid the
Trojan
Arms?
Go, lest the haughty Partner of my Sway
With jealous Eyes thy close Access survey;
But part in Peace, secure thy Pray'r is sped:
Witness the sacred Honours of our Head,
The Nod that ratifies the Will Divine,
The faithful, fix'd, irrevocable Sign;
This seals thy Suit, and this fulfills thy Vows—
He spoke, and awful, bends his sable Brows;
Shakes his Ambrosial Curls, and gives the Nod;
The Stamp of Fate, and Sanction of the God:
High Heav'n with trembling the dread Signal took,
And all
Olympus
to the Centre shook.
Swift to the Seas profound the Goddess flies,
Jove
to his starry Mansion in the Skies.
The shining Synod of th' Immortals wait
The coming God, and from their Thrones of State
Arising silent, wrapt in Holy Fear,
Before the Majesty of Heav'n appear.
Trembling they stand, while
Jove
assumes the Throne,
All, but the God's Imperious Queen alone:
Late had she view'd the Silver-footed Dame,
And all her Passions kindled into Flame.
Say, artful Manager of Heav'n (she cries)
Who now partakes the Secrets of the Skies?
Thy
Juno
knows not the Decrees of Fate,
In vain the Partner of Imperial State.
What fav'rite Goddess then those Cares divides,
Which
Jove
in Prudence from his Consort hides?
To this the Thund'rer: Seek not thou to find
The sacred Counsels of Almighty Mind:
Involv'd in Darkness lies the great Decree,
Nor can the Depths of Fate be pierc'd by thee.
What fits thy Knowledge, thou the first shalt know;
The first of Gods above and Men below:
But thou, nor they, shall search the Thoughts that roll
Deep in the close Recesses of my Soul.
Full on the Sire the Goddess of the Skies
Roll'd the large Orbs of her majestic Eyes,
And thus return'd. Austere
Saturnius,
say,
From whence this Wrath, or who controuls thy Sway?
Thy boundless Will, for me, remains in Force,
And all thy Counsels take the destin'd Course.
But 'tis for
Greece
I fear: For late was seen
In close Consult, the Silver-footed Queen.
Jove
to his
Thetis
nothing could deny,
Nor was the Signal vain that shook the Sky.
What fatal Favour has the Goddess won,
To grace her fierce, inexorable Son?
Perhaps in
Grecian
Blood to drench the Plain,
And glut his Vengeance with my People slain.
Then thus the God: Oh restless Fate of Pride,
That strives to learn what Heav'n resolves to hide;
Vain is the Search, presumptuous and abhorr'd,
Anxious to thee, and odious to thy Lord.
Let this suffice; th' immutable Decree
No Force can shake: What
is,
that
ought
to be.
Goddess submit, nor dare our Will withstand,
But dread the Pow'r of this avenging Hand;
Th' united Strength of all the Gods above
In vain resists th' Omnipotence of
Jove.
The Thund'rer spoke, nor durst the Queen reply;
A rev'rend Horror silenc'd all the Sky.
The Feast disturb'd with Sorrow
Vulcan
saw,
His Mother menac'd, and the Gods in Awe;
Peace at his Heart, and Pleasure his Design,
Thus interpos'd the Architect Divine.
The wretched Quarrels of the mortal State
Are far unworthy, Gods! of your Debate:
Let Men their Days in senseless Strife employ,
We, in eternal Peace and constant Joy.
Thou, Goddess-Mother, with our Sire comply,
Nor break the sacred Union of the Sky:
Lest, rouz'd to Rage, he shake the blest Abodes,
Launch the red Lightning, and dethrone the Gods.
If you submit, the Thund'rer stands appeas'd;
The gracious Pow'r is willing to be pleas'd.
Thus
Vulcan
spoke; and rising with a Bound,
The double Bowl with sparkling
Nectar
crown'd,
Which held to
Juno
in a chearful way,
Goddess (he cry'd) be patient and obey.
Dear as you are, if
Jove
his Arm extend,
I can but grieve, unable to defend.
What God so daring in your Aid to move,
Or lift his Hand against the Force of
Jove?
Once in your Cause I felt his matchless Might,
Hurl'd headlong downward from th' Etherial Height;
Tost all the Day in rapid Circles round;
Nor 'till the Sun descended, touch'd the Ground:
Breathless I fell, in giddy Motion lost;
The
Sinthians
rais'd me on the
Lemnian
Coast.
He said, and to her Hands the Goblet heav'd,
Which, with a Smile, the white-arm'd Queen receiv'd.
Then to the rest he fill'd; and, in his Turn,
Each to his Lips apply'd the nectar'd Urn.
Vulcan
with awkward Grace his Office plies,
And unextinguish'd Laughter shakes the Skies.
Thus the blest Gods the Genial Day prolong,
In Feasts Ambrosial, and Celestial Song.
Apollo
tun'd the Lyre; the
Muses
round
With Voice alternate aid the silver Sound.
Meantime the radiant Sun, to mortal Sight
Descending swift, roll'd down the rapid Light.
Then to their starry Domes the Gods depart,
The shining Monuments of
Vulcan
's Art:
Jove
on his Couch reclin'd his awful Head,
And
Juno
slumber'd on the golden Bed.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE First Book.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE FIRST BOOK.
IT is something strange that of all the Commentators upon
Homer,
there is hardly one whose principal Design is to illustrate the Poetical Beauties of the Author. They are voluminous in explaining those Sciences which he made but subservient to his Poetry, and sparing only upon that Art which constitutes his Character. This has been occasion'd by the Ostentation of Men who had more Reading than Taste, and were fonder of shewing their Variety of Learning in all Kinds, than their single Understanding in Poetry. Hence it comes to pass that their Remarks are rather Philosophical, Historical, Geographical, Allegorical, or in short rather any thing than Critical and Poetical. Even the Grammarians, tho' their whole Business and Use be only to render the Words of an Author intelligible, are strangely touch'd with the Pride of doing something more than they ought. The grand Ambition of one sort of Scholars is to encrease the Number of
Various Lections;
which they have done to such a degree of obscure Diligence, that we now begin to value the first Editions of Books as most correct, because they have been least corrected. The prevailing Passion of others is to discover
New Meanings
in an Author, whom they will cause to appear mysterious purely for the Vanity of being thought to unravel him. These account it a disgrace to be of the Opinion of those that preceded them; and it is generally the Fate of such People who will never say what was said before, to say what will never be said after them. If they can but find a Word that has once been strain'd by some dark Writer to signify any thing different from its usual Acceptation, it is frequent with them to apply to constantly to that uncommon Meaning, whenever they meet it in a clear Writer: For Reading is so much dearer to them than Sense, that they will discard it at any time to make way for a Criticism. In other Places where they cannot contest the Truth of the common Interpretation, they get themselves room for Dissertation by imaginary
Amphibologies,
which they will have to be design'd by the Author. This Disposition of finding out different Significations in one thing, may be the Effect of either too much, or too little Wit: For Men of a right Understanding generally see at once all that an Author can reasonably mean, but others are apt to fancy Two Meanings for want of knowing One. Not to add, that there is a vast deal of difference between the Learning of a Critick, and the Puzzling of a Grammarian.
It is no easy Task to make something out of a hundred Pedants that is not Pedantical; yet this he must do, who would give a tolerable Abstract of the former Expositors of
Homer.
The Commentaries of
Eustathius
are indeed an immense Treasury of the
Greek
Learning; but as he seems to have amassed the Substance of whatever others had written upon the Author, so he is not free from some of the foregoing Censures. There are those who have said, that a judicious Abstract of Him alone might furnish out sufficient Illustrations upon
Homer.
It was resolv'd to take the trouble of reading thro' that voluminous Work, and the Reader may be assur'd, those Remarks that any way concern the Poetry or Art of the Poet, are much fewer than is imagin'd. The greater Part of these is already plunder'd by succeeding Commentators, who have very little but what they owe to him: and I am oblig'd to say even of Madam
Dacier,
that she is either more beholden to him than she has confessed, or has read him less than she is willing to own. She has made a farther Attempt than her Predecessors to discover the Beauties of the Poet; tho' we have often only her general Praises and Exclamations instead of Reasons. But her Remarks all together are the most judicious Collection extant of the scatter'd Observations of the Ancients and Moderns, as her Preface is excellent, and her Translation equally careful and elegant.
The chief Design of the following Notes is to comment upon
Homer
as a Poet; whatever in them is extracted from others is constantly own'd; the Remarks of the Ancients are generally set at length, and the Places cited: all those of
Eustathius
are collected which fall under this Scheme: many which were not acknowledg'd by other Commentators, are restor'd to the true Owner; and the same Justice is shown to those who refus'd it to others.
I.
THE Plan of this Poem is form'd upon Anger and its ill Effects, the Plan of
Virgil
's upon pious Resignation and its Rewards: and thus every Passion or Virtue may be the Foundation of the Scheme of an Epic Poem. This Distinction between two Authors who have been so successful, seem'd necessary to be taken notice of, that they who would imitate either may not stumble at the very Entrance, or curb their Imaginations so as to deprive us of noble Morals told in a new Variety of Accidents. Imitation does not hinder Invention: We may observe the Rules of Nature, and write in the Spirit of those who have best hit upon them, without taking the same Track, beginning in the same Manner, and following the Main of their Story almost step by step; as most of the modern Writers of Epic Poetry have done after one of these great Poets.
II.
VERSE 1.]
Quintilian
has told us, that from the beginning of
Homer
's two Poems the Rules of all
Exordiums
were deriv'd.
"
In paucissimis versibus utriusque operis ingressu, legem Prooemiorum non dico servavit, sed constituit.
"
Yet
Rapin
has been very free with this Invocation, in his
Comparison
between
Homer
and
Virgil; which is by no means the most judicious of his Works. He cavils first at the Poet's insisting so much upon the Effects of
Achilles
's Anger, That it was
"the Cause of the Woes of the
Greeks,
"
that it
"sent so many Heroes to the Shades,"
that
"their Bodies were left a Prey to Birds and Beasts,"
the first of which he thinks had been sufficient. One may answer, that the Woes of
Greece
might consist in several other things than in the Death of her Heroes, which was therefore needful to be specify'd: As to the Bodies, he might have reflected how great a Curse the want of Burial was accounted by the Ancients, and how prejudicial it was esteem'd even to the Souls of the deceas'd: We have a most particular Example of the Strength of this Opinion from the Conduct of
Sophocles
in his
Ajax;
who thought this very Point sufficient to make the Distress of the last Act of that Tragedy after the Death of his Heroe, purely to satisfy the Audience that he obtain'd the Rites of Sepulture. Next he objects it as preposterous in
Homer
to desire the Muse to tell him the whole Story, and at the same time to inform her solemnly in his own Person that 'twas the
Will of Jove
which brought it about. But is a Poet then to be imagin'd intirely ignorant of his Subject, tho' he invokes the Muse to relate the Particulars? May not
Homer
be allow'd the Knowledge of so plain a Truth, as that the Will of God is fulfill'd in all things? Nor does his Manner of saying this infer that he
informs
the Muse of it, but only corresponds with the usual way of desiring Information from another concerning any thing, and at the same time mentioning that little we know of it in general. What is there more in this Passage?
"Sing, O Goddess, that Wrath of
Achilles,
which prov'd so pernicious to the
Greeks:
We only know the Effects of it, that it sent innumerable brave Men to the Shades, and that it was
Jove
's Will it should be so. But tell me, O Muse, what was the Source of this destructive Anger?"
I can't apprehend what
Rapin
means by saying, it is hard to know where this
Invocation
ends, and that it is confounded with the
Narration,
which so manifestly begins at
. But upon the whole, methinks the
French
Criticks play double with us, when they sometimes represent the Rules of Poetry to be form'd upon the Practice of
Homer,
and at other times arraign their Master as if he transgress'd them.
Horace
has said the
Exordium
of an Epic Poem ought to be plain and modest, and instances
Homer
's as such; and
Rapin
from this very Rule will be trying
Homer
and judging it otherwise (for he criticises also upon the beginning of the
Odysses
) But for a full Answer we may bring the Words of
Quintilian
(whom
Rapin
himself allows to be the best of Criticks) concerning these Propositions and Invocations of our Author.
"
Benevolum Auditorem invocatione dearum quas praesidere vatibus creditum est, intentum propositâ rerum magnitudine, & docilem summā celeriter comprehensâ, facit.
"
III.
VERSE 1.]
Plutarch
observes there is a Defect in the Measure of this first Line (I suppose he means in the
Eta
's of the Patronymick.) This he thinks the fiery Vein of
Homer
making haste to his Subject, past over with a bold Neglect, being conscious of his own Power and Perfection in the greater Parts; as some (says he) who make Virtue their sole Aim, pass by Censure in smaller Matters. But perhaps we may find no occasion to suppose this a Neglect in him, if we consider that the word
Pelides,
had he made use of it without so many Alterations as he has put it to in
, would still have been true to the Rules of Measure. Make but a Diphthong of the second
Eta
and the
Iota,
instead of their being two Syllables (perhaps by the fault of Transcribers) and the Objection is gone. Or perhaps it might be design'd that the Verse in which he professes to sing of violent Anger should run off in the Rapidity of Dactyles. This Art he is allow'd to have us'd in other Places, and
Virgil
has been particularly celebrated for it.
IV.
VERSE 8.
Will of Jove.
]
Plutarch
in his Treatise of reading Poets, interprets
in this Place to signify
Fate,
not imagining it consistent with the Goodness of the supreme Being, or
Jupiter,
to contrive or practise any Evil against Men.
Eustathius
makes [
Will
] here to refer to the Promise which
Jupiter
gave to
Thetis,
that he would honour her Son by siding with
Troy
while he should be absent. But to reconcile these two Opinions, perhaps the Meaning may be that when
Fate
had decreed the Destruction of
Troy, Jupiter
having the Power of Incidents to bring it to pass, fulfill'd that Decree by providing Means for it. So that the Words may thus specify the Time of Action, from the beginning of the Poem, in which those Incidents work'd, 'till the Promise to
Thetis
was fulfil'd, and the Destruction of
Troy
ascertain'd to the
Greeks
by the Death of
Hector.
However it is certain that this Poet was not an absolute
Fatalist,
but still suppos'd the Power of
Jove
superior: For in the sixteenth
Iliad
we see him designing to save
Sarpedon
tho' the Fates had decreed his Death, if
Juno
had not interposed. Neither does he exclude
Free-will
in Men; for as he attributes the Destruction of the Heroes to the
Will
of
Jove
in the beginning of the
Iliad,
so he attributes the Destruction of
Ulysses
's Friends to their
own Folly
in the beginning of the
Odysses,
V.
VERSE 9.
Declare, O Muse.
]
It may be question'd whether the first Period ends at
, and the Interrogation to the Muse begins with
—Or whether the Period does not end 'till the words,
, with only a single Interrogation at
—? I should be inclin'd to favour the former, and think it a double Interrogative, as
Milton
seems to have done in his Imitation of this Place at the beginning of
Paradise Lost.
—Say first what Cause
Mov'd our grand Parents?
&c.
And just after,
Who first seduc'd them to that foul Revolt?
Besides that I think the Proposition concludes more nobly with the Sentence
Such was the Will of
Jove. But the latter being follow'd by most Editions, and by all the Translations I have seen in any Language, the general Acceptation is here comply'd with, only transposing the Line to keep the Sentence last: And the next Verses are so turn'd as to include the double Interrogation, and at the same time do justice to another Interpretation of the Words
,
Ex quo tempore;
which marks the
Date
of the Quarrel from whence the Poem takes its Rise.
Chapman
would have
Ex quo
understood of
Jupiter, from whom
the Debate was suggested; but this clashes with the Line immediately following, where he asks What God inspir'd the Contention? and answers, It was
Apollo.
VI.
VERSE 11. Latona
's Son.
]
Here the Author who first invok'd the Muse as the Goddess of Memory, vanishes from the Reader's view, and leaves her to relate the whole Affair through the Poem, whose Presence from this time diffuses an Air of Majesty over the Relation. And lest this should be lost to our Thoughts by the Continuation of the Story, he sometimes refreshes them with a new Invocation at proper Intervals.
Eustathius.
VII.
VERSE 20.
The Sceptre and the Laurel Crown.
]
There is something exceedingly venerable in this Appearance of the Priest to command Attention. He comes with the Ensigns of the God he belong'd to; the Laurel Crown, now carry'd in his Hand to show he was a Suppliant; and a golden Sceptre which the Ancients gave in particular to
Apollo,
as they did a silver one to the Moon, and other sorts to other Planets.
Eustathius.
VIII.
VERSE 23.
Ye Kings and Warriors.
]
The Art of this Speech is remarkable.
Chryses
considers the Constitution of the
Greeks
before
Troy,
as made up of Troops partly from Kingdoms and partly from Democracies: Wherefore he begins with a distinction which comprehends all. After this, as
Apollo
's Priest, he prays that they may obtain the two Blessings they had most in view, the Conquest of
Troy,
and a safe Return. Then as he names his Petition, he offers an extraordinary Ransom, and concludes with bidding them fear the God if they refuse it; like one who from his Office seems to foresee their Misery and exhorts them to shun it. Thus he endeavours to work by the Art of a general Application, by Religion, by Interest, and the Insinuation of Danger. This is the Substance of what
Eustathius
remarks on this Place; and in pursuance to his last Observation, the Epithet
Avenging
is added to this Version, that it may appear the Priest foretells the Anger of his God.
IX.
VERSE 33.
He with Pride repuls'd.
]
It has been remark'd in Honour of
Homer
's Judgment, and the Care he took of his Reader's Morals, that where he speaks of evil Actions committed, or hard Words given, he generally characterises them as such by a previous Expression. This Passage is given as one Instance of it, where he says the Repulse of
Chryses
was a proud injurious Action in
Agamemnon:
And it may be remark'd that before his Heroes fall on one another with hard Language, in this Book, he still takes care to let us know they were under a Distraction of Anger. Plutarch
of reading Poets.
X.
VERSE 41.
'Till Time shall rifle ev'ry youthful Grace,
And Age dismiss her from my cold Embrace,
In daily Labours of the Loom employ'd,
Or doom'd to deck the Bed she once enjoy'd.
]
The
Greek
is
, which signifies either
making
the Bed, or
partaking
it.
Eustathius
and Madam
Dacier
insist very much upon its being taken in the former Sense only, for fear of presenting a loose Idea to the Reader, and of offending against the Modesty of the
Muse
who is suppos'd to relate the Poem. This Observation may very well become a Bishop and a Lady: But that
Agamemnon
was not studying here for Civility of Expression, appears from the whole Tenour of his Speech; and that he design'd
Chryseis
for more than a Servant-Maid may be seen from some other things he says of her, as that he preferr'd her to his Queen
Clytemnestra, &c.
The Impudence of which Confession Madam
Dacier
herself has elsewhere animadverted upon. Mr.
Dryden
in his Translation of this Book, has been juster to the Royal Passion of
Agamemnon;
tho' he has carry'd the Point so much on the other side, as to make him promise a greater Fondness for her in her old Age than in her Youth, which indeed is hardly credible.
Mine she shall be, 'till creeping Age and Time
Her Bloom have wither'd and destroy'd her Prime;
'Till then
my nuptial Bed she shall attend,
And having
first
adorn'd it,
late
ascend.
This for the Night; by Day the Web and Loom,
And homely Houshold-Tasks shall be her Doom.
Nothing could have made Mr.
Dryden
capable of this Mistake but extreme haste in Writing; which never ought to be imputed as a Fault to him, but to those who suffer'd so noble a Genius to lie under the necessity of it.
XI.
VERSE 47.
The trembling Priest.
]
We may take notice here, once for all, that
Homer
is frequently Eloquent in his very Silence.
Chryses
says not a word in answer to the Insults of
Agamemnon,
but walks pensive along the Shore, and the melancholy Flowing of the Verse admirably expresses the Condition of the mournful and deserted Father.
XII.
VERSE 61.
The fav'ring God attends.
]
Upon this first Prayer in the Poem
Eustathius
takes occasion to observe, that the Poet is careful throughout his whole Work to let no Prayer ever fall entirely which has Justice on its side; but he who prays either kills his Enemy, or has Signs given him that he has been heard, or his Friends return, or his Undertaking succeeds, or some other visible Good happens. So far instructive and useful to Life has
Homer
made his Fable.
XIII.
VERSE 67.
He bent his deadly Bow.
]
In the tenth Year of the Siege of
Troy
a Plague happen'd in the
Grecian
Camp, occasion'd perhaps by immoderate Heats and gross Exhalations. At the Introduction of this Accident
Homer
begins his Poem, and takes occasion from it to open the Scene of Action with a most beautiful Allegory. He supposes that such Afflictions are sent from Heaven for the Punishment of our evil Actions, and because the Sun whom the Heathens worship'd was a principal Instrument of it, he says it was sent to punish
Agamemnon
for despising that God and injuring his Priest.
Eustathius.
XIV.
VERSE 69.
Mules and Dogs.
]
Hippocrates observes two things of Plagues; that their Cause is in the Air, and that different Animals are differently touch'd by them according to their Nature or Nourishment. This Philosophy
Spondanus
refers to the Plague here mention'd. First, the Cause is in the Air, by reason of the
Darts
or
Beams
of
Apollo.
Secondly, the Mules and Dogs are said to die sooner than the Men; partly because they have by Nature a Quickness of Smell which makes the Infection sooner perceivable; and partly by the Nourishment they take, their feeding on the Earth with prone Heads making the Exhalation the more easy to be suck'd in with it. Thus has
Hippocrates
so long after
Homer
writ, subscrib'd to his Knowledge in the Rise and Progress of this Distemper. There have been some who have refer'd this Passage to a religious Sense, making the Death of the Mules and Dogs before the Men to point out a kind Method of Providence in punishing, whereby it sends some previous Afflictions to warn Mankind so as to make them shun the greater Evils by Repentance. This Monsieur
Dacier
in his Notes on
Aristotles
's Art of Poetry calls a Remark perfectly fine, and agreeable to God's Method of sending Plagues on the
Aegyptians,
where first Horses, Asses,
&c.
were smitten, and afterwards the Men themselves.
XV.
VERSE 74. Thetis'
God-like Son convenes a Council.
]
On the tenth Day a Council is held to enquire why the Gods were angry? We may observe with
Plutarch,
how justly he applies the Characters of his Persons to the Incidents; not making
Agamemnon
but
Achilles
call this Council, who of all the Kings was most capable of making Observations upon the Plague, and of foreseeing its Duration, as having been bred by
Chiron
to the Study of Physick. One may mention also a Remark of
Eustathius
in pursuance to this, that
Juno
's advising him in this case might allude to his Knowledge of an evil Temperament in the
Air,
of which she was Goddess.
XVI.
VERSE 79.
Why leave we not the fatal
Trojan
Shore,
&c.]
The Artifice of this Speech (according to
Dionysius
of
Halicarnassus
in his second Discourse,
) is admirably carry'd on to open an Accusation against
Agamemnon,
whom
Achilles
suspects to be the Cause of all their Miseries. He directs himself not to the Assembly, but to
Agamemnon;
he names not only the
Plague
but the
War
too, as having exhausted them all, which was evidently due to his Family. He leads the
Augurs
he would consult, by pointing at something lately done with respect to
Apollo.
And while he continues within the guard of civil Expression, scattering his Insinuations, he encourages those who may have more Knowledge to speak out boldly, by letting them see there is a Party made for their Safety; which has its Effect immediately in the following Speech of
Chalcas,
whose demand of Protection shows upon whom the Offence is to be plac'd.
XVII.
VERSE 85.
By mystic Dreams.
]
It does not seem that by the word
an Interpreter of Dreams is meant, for we have no hint of any preceding Dream which wants to be interpreted. We may therefore more probably refer it to such who us'd (after performing proper Rites) to lie down at some sacred Place, and expect a Dream from the Gods upon any particular Subject which they desir'd. That this was a Practice amongst them, appears from the Temples of
Amphiaraus
in
Boeotia,
and
Podalirius
in
Apulia,
where the Enquirer was oblig'd to sleep at the Altar upon the Skin of the Beast he had sacrific'd in order to obtain an Answer. It is in this manner that
Latinus
in
Virgil
's seventh Book goes to dream in the Temple of
Faunus,
where we have a particular Description of the whole Custom.
Strabo, Lib.
16. has spoken concerning the Temple of
Jerusalem
as a Place of this Nature;
"where (says he) the People either dream'd for themselves, or procur'd some good Dreamer to do it:"
By which it should seem he had read something concerning the Visions of their Prophets, as that which
Samuel
had when he was order'd to sleep a third time before the Ark, and upon doing so had an Account of the Destruction of
Eli
's House: or that which happen'd to
Solomon
after having sacrific'd before the Ark at
Gibeon.
The same Author also has mention'd the Temple of
Serapis
in his seventeenth Book as a Place for receiving Oracles by Dreams.
XVIII.
VERSE 97.
Belov'd of Jove,
Achilles!]
These Appellations of Praise and Honour with which the Heroes in
Homer
so frequently salute each other, were agreeable to the Style of the ancient Times, as appears from several of the like Nature in the Scripture.
Milton
has not been wanting to give his Poem this Cast of Antiquity, throughout which our first Parents almost always accost each other with some Title that expresses a Respect to the Dignity of human Nature.
Daughter of God and Man, immortal
Eve.
Adam,
Earth's hallow'd Mould of God inspir'd.
Offspring of Heav'n and Earth, and all Earth's Lord.
&c.
XIX.
VERSE 115.
Not even the Chief.
]
After
Achilles
had brought in
Chalcas
by his dark Doubts concerning
Agamemnon, Chalcas
who perceiv'd them, and was unwilling to be the first that nam'd the King, artfully demands a Protection in such a manner, as confirms those Doubts, and extorts from him that warm and particular Expression
"that he would protect him even against
Agamemnon,
"
who, as he says, is
now
the greatest Man of
Greece,
to hint that at the Expiration of the War he should be again reduc'd to be barely King of
Mycenae.
This Place
Plutarch
takes notice of as the first in which
Achilles
shews his Contempt of Sovereign Authority.
XX.
VERSE 117.
The Blameless Priest.
]
The Epithet
or
blameless,
is frequent in
Homer,
but not always us'd with so much Propriety as here. The Reader may observe that Care has not been wanting thro' this Translation to preserve those Epithets which are peculiar to the Author, whenever they receive any Beauty from the Circumstances about them: as this of
blameless
manifestly does in the present Passage. It is not only apply'd to a Priest, but to one who being conscious of the Truth, prepares with an honest Boldness to discover it.
XXI.
VERSE 131.
Augur accurst.
]
This Expression is not meerly thrown out by chance, but proves what
Chalcas
said of the King when he ask'd Protection; that he harbour'd Anger in his Heart. For it aims at the Prediction
Chalcas
had given at
Aulis
nine Years before, for the sacrificing his Daughter
Iphigenia. Spondanus.
This, and the two following Lines are in a manner Repetitions of the same thing thrice over. It is left to the Reader to consider how far it may be allow'd, or rather praised for a Beauty, when we consider with
Eustathius
that it is a most natural Effect of Anger to be full of Words and insisting on that which galls us. We may add, that these reiterated Expressions might be suppos'd to be thrown out one after another, according as
Agamemnon
is struck in the Confusion of his Passion, first by the Remembrance of one Prophecy, and then of another, which the same Man had utter'd against him.
XXII.
VERSE 143.
Not half so dear were
Clytemnestra
's Charms.
]
Agamemnon having heard the Charge which
Chalcas
drew up against him in two Particulars, that he had affronted the Priest, and refus'd to restore his Daughter; he offers one Answer which gives softening Colours to both, that he lov'd her as well as his Queen
Clytemnestra
for her Perfections. Thus he would seem to satisfy the Father by Kindness to his Daughter, to excuse himself before the
Greeks
for what is past, and to make a Merit of yielding her in the following Lines, and sacrificing his Passion for their Safety.
XXIII.
VERSE 155.
Insatiate King.
]
Here, where this Passion of Anger grows loud, it seems proper to prepare the Reader, and prevent his Mistake in the Character of
Achilles,
which might shock him in several Particulars following. We should know that the Poet has rather study'd Nature than Perfection in the laying down his Characters. He resolv'd to sing the Consequences of Anger; he consider'd what Virtues and Vices would conduce most to bring his Moral out of the Fable; and artfully dispos'd them in his chief Persons after the manner in which we generally find them; making the Fault which most peculiarly attends any good Quality, to reside with it. Thus he has plac'd Pride with Magnanimity in
Agamemnon,
and Craft with Prudence in
Ulysses.
And thus we must take his
Achilles,
not as a meer heroick dispassion'd Character, but as one compounded of Courage and Anger; one who finds himself almost invincible, and assumes an uncontroul'd Carriage upon the Self-consciousness of his Worth; whose high Strain of Honour will not suffer him to betray his Friends or fight against them, even when he thinks they have affronted him; but whose inexorable Resentment will not let him hearken to any Terms of Accommodation. These are the Lights and Shades of his Character, which
Homer
has heighten'd and darkned in Extreams; because on the one side Valour is the darling Quality of Epic Poetry, and on the other, Anger the particular Subject of his Poem. When Characters thus mix'd are well conducted, tho' they be not morally beautiful quite through, they conduce more to the end, and are still poetically perfect.
Plutarch
takes occasion from the Observation of this Conduct in
Homer,
to applaud his just Imitation of Nature and Truth, in representing Virtues and Vices intermixed in his Heroes: contrary to the Paradoxes and strange Positions of the Stoicks, who held that no Vice could consist with Virtue, nor the least Virtue with Vice. Plut.
de aud. Poetis.
XXIV.
VERSE 169.
Great as thou art, and like a God in Fight.
]
The Words in the Original are
.
Ulysses
is soon after call'd
, and others in other Places. The Phrase of
Divine
or
God-like
is not used by the Poet to signify Perfection in Men, but apply'd to considerable Persons upon account of some particular Qualification or Advantage which they were possess'd of far above the common Standard of Mankind. Thus it is ascrib'd to
Achilles
upon account of his great Valour, to
Ulysses
for his Preheminence in Wisdom, even to
Paris
for his exceeding Beauty, and to
Clytemnestra
for several fair Endowments.
XXV.
VERSE 172.
First let the just Equivalent.
]
The Reasoning in point of Right between
Achilles
and
Agamemnon
seems to be this.
Achilles
pleads that
Agamemnon
could not seize upon any other Man's Captive without a new Distribution, it being an Invasion of private Property. On the other hand, as
Agamemnon
's Power was limited, how came it that all the
Grecian
Captains would submit to an illegal and arbitrary Action? I think the legal Pretence for his seizing
Briseis
must have been founded upon that Law, whereby the Commander in Chief had the Power of taking what part of the Prey he pleas'd for his own Use: And he being obliged to restore what he had taken, it seem'd but just that he should have a second Choice.
XXVI.
VERSE 213.
And dar'st thou threat to snatch my Prize away,
Due to the Deeds of many a dreadful Day?
]
The Anger of these two Princes was equally upon the account of Women, but yet it is observable that there is a different Air with which they are conducted.
Agamemnon
appears as a Lover,
Achilles
as a Warriour: The one speaks of
Chryseis
as a Beauty whom he valu'd equal to his Wife, and whose Merit was too considerable to be easily resign'd; the other treats
Briseis
as a Slave, whom he is concern'd to preserve in point of Honour, and as a Testimony of his Glory. Hence it is that we never hear him mention her but as his
Spoil,
the
Reward of War,
the
Gift the
Graecians
gave him,
or the like Expressions: and accordingly he yields her up, not in Grief for a Mistress whom he loses, but in Sullenness for an Injury that is done him. This Observation is Madam
Dacier
's, and will often appear just as we proceed farther. Nothing is finer than the Moral exhibited to us in this Quarrel, of the Blindness and Partiality of Mankind to their own Faults: The
Graecians
make a War to recover a Woman that was ravish'd, and are in danger to fail in the Attempt by a Dispute about another.
Agamemnon
while he is revenging a Rape, commits one; and
Achilles
while he is in the utmost Fury himself, reproaches
Agamemnon
for his passionate Temper.
XXVII.
VERSE 225.
Fly, mighty Warriour.
]
Achilles having threaten'd to leave them in the former Speech, and spoken of his Acts of War; the Poet here puts an artful Piece of Spite in the Mouth of
Agamemnon,
making him opprobriously brand his Retreat as a Flight, and lessen the Appearance of his Courage by calling it the Love of Contention and Slaughter.
XXVIII.
VERSE 229.
Kings, the Gods distinguish'd Care.
]
In the Original it is
, or
nurst by Jove. Homer
often uses to call his Kings by such Epithets as
,
born of the Gods,
or
,
bred by the Gods;
by which he points out to themselves, the Offices they were ordain'd for; and to their People, the Reverence that should be pay'd them. These Expressions of his are perfectly in the exalted Style of the Eastern Nations, and correspondent to those Places of holy Scripture where they are call'd
Gods,
and
the Sons of the most High.
XXIX.
VERSE 261. Minerva
swift descended from above.
]
Homer having by degrees rais'd
Achilles
to such a Pitch of Fury as to make him capable of attempting
Agamemnon
's Life in the Council,
Pallas
the Goddess of Wisdom descends, and being seen only by him, pulls him back in the very Instant of Execution. He parlies with her a while as imagining she would advise him to proceed, but upon the promise of a time wherein there should be a full Reparation of his Honour, he sheaths his Sword in Obedience to her. She ascends to Heaven, and he being left to himself, falls again upon his General with bitter Expressions. The Allegory here may be allow'd by every Reader to be unforc'd: The Prudence of
Achilles
checks him in the rashest Moment of his Anger, it works upon him unseen to others, but does not entirely prevail upon him to desist, 'till he remembers his own Importance, and depends upon it that there will be a necessity of their courting him at any Expence into the Alliance again. Having persuaded himself by such Reflections, he forbears to attack his General, but thinking that he sacrifices enough to Prudence by this Forbearance, lets the thought of it vanish from him, and no sooner is Wisdom gone but he falls into more violent Reproaches for the Gratification of his Passion. All this is a most beautiful Passage whose Moral is evident, and generally agreed upon by the Commentators.
XXX.
VERSE 268.
Known by the Flames that sparkled from her Eyes.
]
They who carry on this Allegory after the most minute manner, refer this to the Eyes of
Achilles,
as indeed we must, if we entirely destroy the bodily Appearance of
Minerva.
But what Poet designing to have his Moral so open, would take pains to form it into a Fable? In the proper mythological Sense, this Passage should be referr'd to
Minerva:
according to an Opinion of the Ancients, who suppos'd that the Gods had a peculiar Light in their Eyes. That
Homer
was not ignorant of this Opinion appears from his use of it in other Places, as when in the third
Iliad Helena
by this means discovers
Venus:
and that he meant it here is particularly asserted by
Heliodorus
in the third Book of his
Aethiopick
History.
"The Gods, says he, are known in their Apparitions to Men by the fix'd Glare of their Eyes, or their gliding Passage through Air without moving the Feet; these Marks
Homer
has us'd from his Knowledge of the
Aegyptian
Learning, applying one to
Pallas,
and the other to
Neptune.
"
Madam
Dacier
has gone into the contrary Opinion, and blames
Eustathius
and others without overthrowing these Authorities, or assigning any other Reason but that it was not proper for
Minerva
's Eyes to
sparkle,
when her Speech was
mild.
XXXI.
VERSE 298.
Thou Dog in Forehead.
]
It has been one of the Objections against the Manners of
Homer
's Heroes, that they are abusive. Mons.
de la Motte
affirms in his Discourse upon the
Iliad,
that great Men differ from the vulgar in their manner of expressing their Passion; but certainly in violent Passions (such as those of
Achilles
and
Agamemnon
) the Great are as subject as any others to these Sallies; of which we have frequent Examples both from History and Experience.
Plutarch,
taking notice of this Line, gives it as a particular Commendation of
Homer,
that
"he constantly affords us a fine Lecture of Morality in his Reprehensions and Praises, by referring them not to the Goods of Fortune or the Body, but those of the Mind, which are in our Power, and for which we are blameable or praise-worthy. Thus, says he,
Agamemnon
is reproach'd for Impudence and Fear,
Ajax
for vain-bragging,
Idomeneus
for the Love of Contention, and
Ulysses
does not reprove even
Thersites
but as a Babbler, tho' he had so many personal Deformities to object to him. In like manner also the Appellations and Epithets with which they accost one another, are generally founded on some distinguishing Qualification of
Merit,
as
Wise
Ulysses, Hector
equal to
Jove
in Wisdom,
Achilles
chief Glory of the
Greeks,"
and the like Plutarch
of reading Poets.
XXXII.
VERSE 299.
In ambush'd Fights to dare.
]
Homer has magnify'd the Ambush as the boldest manner of Fight. They went upon those Parties with a few Men only, and generally the most daring of the Army, on Occasions of the greatest Hazard, where they were therefore more expos'd than in a regular Battel. Thus
Idomeneus
in the thirteenth Book expressly tells
Meriones
that the greatest Courage appears in this way of Service, each Man being in a manner singled out to the Proof of it.
Eustathius.
XXXIII.
VERSE 309.
Now by this sacred Sceptre.
]
Spondanus in this Place blames
Eustathius,
for saying that
Homer
makes
Achilles
in his Passion swear by the first thing he meets with; and then assigns (as from himself) two Causes which the other had mention'd so plainly before, that it is a wonder they could be over-look'd. The Substance of the whole Passage in
Eustathius
is, that if we consider the Sceptre simply as Wood,
Achilles
after the manner of the Ancients takes in his Transport the first thing to swear by; but that
Homer
himself has in the Process of the Description assign'd Reasons why it is proper for the Occasion, which may be seen by considering it Symbolically. First, That as the Wood being cut from the Tree will never re-unite and flourish, so neither should their Amity ever flourish again, after they were divided by this Contention. Secondly, That a Sceptre being the mark of Power and Symbol of Justice, to swear by it might in effect be construed swearing by the God of Power, and by Justice itself; and accordingly it is spoken of by
Aristotle,
3
l. Polit.
as a usual solemn Oath of Kings.
I cannot leave this Passage without showing in Opposition to some Moderns who have criticiz'd upon it as tedious, that it has been esteem'd a Beauty of so fine a Nature by the Ancients as to engage them in its Imitation.
Virgil
has almost transcrib'd it in his 12
Aen.
for the Sceptre of
Latinus.
Ut sceptrum hoc (sceptrum dextrâ nam fortè gerebat)
Nunquam fronde levi sundet virgulta nec umbras;
Cùm semel in silvis imo de stirpe recisum,
Matre caret, posuitque comas & brachia ferro:
Olim arbos, nunc artificis manus aere decoro
Inclusit, Patribusque dedit gestare Latinis.
But I cannot think this comes up to the Spirit or Propriety of
Homer,
notwithstanding the Judgment of
Scaliger
who decides for
Virgil
upon a trivial comparison of the Wording in each,
l.
5.
cap.
3.
Poet.
It fails in a greater Point than any he has mention'd, which is that being there us'd on occasion of a Peace, it has no emblematical reference to Division, and yet describes the cutting of the Wood and its Incapacity to bloom and branch again, in as many Words as
Homer.
It is borrow'd by
Valerius Flaccus
in his third Book, where he makes
Jason
swear as a Warriour by his Spear,
Hanc ego magnanimi spolium Didymaonis hastam,
Ut semel est avulsa jugis à matre perempta,
Quae neque jam frondes virides neque proferet umbras,
Fida ministeria & duras obit horrida pugnas,
Testor.—
And indeed, however he may here borrow some Expressions from
Virgil
or fall below him in others, he has nevertheless kept to
Homer
in the Emblem, by introducing the Oath upon
Jason
's Grief for sailing to
Colchis
without
Hercules,
when he had separated himself from the Body of the
Argonauts
to search after
Hylas.
To render the Beauty of this Passage more manifest, the Allusion is inserted (but with the fewest Words possible) in this Translation.
XXXIV.
VERSE 324.
Thy Rashness made the bravest
Greek
thy Foe.
]
Tho' self-praise had not been agreeable to the haughty Nature of
Achilles,
yet
Plutarch
has mention'd a Case, and with respect to him, wherein it is allowable. He says that
Achilles
has at other times ascrib'd his Success to
Jupiter,
but it is permitted to a Man of Merit and Figure who is injuriously dealt with, to speak frankly of himself to those who are forgetful and unthankful.
XXXV.
VERSE 333.
Two Generations.
]
The Commentators make not
Nestor
to have liv'd three hundred Years (according to
Ovid
's Opinion;) they take the word
not to signify a Century or Age of the World; but a Generation, or compass of Time in which one Set of Men flourish, which in the common Computation is thirty Years; and accordingly it is here translated as much the more probable.
From what
Nestor
says in this Speech, Madam
Dacier
computes the Age he was of, at the end of the
Trojan
War. The Fight of the
Lapithae
and
Centaurs
fell out fifty five or sixty Years before the War of
Troy:
The Quarrel of
Agamemnon
and
Achilles
happen'd in the tenth and last Year of that War. It was then fifty five or sixty five Years since
Nestor
fought against the
Centaurs;
he was capable at that time of giving Counsel, so that one cannot imagine him to have been under twenty: From whence it will appear that he was now almost arriv'd to the Conclusion of his third Age, and about fourscore and five, or fourscore and six Years of Age.
XXXVI.
VERSE 339.
What Shame.
]
The Quarrel having risen to its highest Extravagance,
Nestor
the wisest and most aged
Greek
is raised to quiet the Princes, whose Speech is therefore fram'd entirely with an opposite Air to all which has been hitherto said, sedate and inoffensive. He begins with a soft affectionate Complaint which he opposes to their Threats and haughty Language; he reconciles their Attention in an awful manner, by putting them in mind that they hear one whom their Fathers and the greatest Heroes have heard with deference. He sides with neither, that he might not anger any one, while he advises them to the proper Methods of Reconciliation; and he appears to side with both while he praises each, that they may be induc'd by the Recollection of one another's Worth to return to that Amity which would bring Success to the Cause. It was not however consistent with the Plan of the Poem that this should entirely appease them, for then the Anger would be at an end which was propos'd to be sung through the whole.
Homer
has not therefore made this Speech to have its full Success; and yet that the Eloquence of his
Nestor
might not be thrown out of Character by its proving unavailable, he takes care that the Violence with which the Dispute was manag'd should abate immediately upon his speaking;
Agamemnon
confesses that all he spoke was right,
Achilles
promises not to fight for
Briseis
if she should be sent for, and the Council dissolves.
It is to be observ'd that this Character of Authority and Wisdom in
Nestor,
is every where admirably used by
Homer,
and made to exert itself thro' all the great Emergencies of the Poem. As he quiets the Princes here, he proposes that Expedient which reduces the Army into their Order after the Sedition in the second Book. When the
Greeks
are in the utmost Distresses, 'tis he who advises the building the Fortification before the Fleet, which is the chief means of preserving them. And it is by his Persuasion that
Patroclus
puts on the Armour of
Achilles,
which occasions the Return of that Heroe, and the Conquest of
Troy.
XXXVII.
VERSE 394.
—No more
Achilles
draws
His conqu'ring Sword in any Woman's Cause.
]
When
Achilles
promises not to contest for
Briseis,
he expresses it in a sharp despising Air,
I will not fight for the sake of a Woman:
by which he glances at
Helena,
and casts an oblique Reflection upon those Commanders whom he is about to leave at the Siege for her Cause. One may observe how well it is fancy'd of the Poet, to make one Woman the ground of a Quarrel which breaks an Alliance that was only form'd upon account of another: and how much the Circumstance thus consider'd contributes to keep up the Anger of
Achilles,
for carrying on the Poem beyond this Dissolution of the Council. For (as he himself argues with
Ulysses
in the 9
th Iliad
) it is as reasonable for him to retain his Anger upon the account of
Briseis,
as for the Brothers with all
Greece
to carry on a War upon the score of
Helena.
I do not know that any Commentator has taken notice of this Sarcasm of
Achilles,
which I think a very obvious one.
XXXVIII.
VERSE 413.
The Ablutions.
]
All our former
English
Translations seem to have err'd in the Sense of this Line; the word
being differently render'd by them,
Offals,
or
Entrails,
or
Purgaments,
or
Ordures,
a gross Set of Ideas of which
Homer
is not guilty. The word comes from
,
eluo,
the same Verb from whence
, which precedes in the Line, is deriv'd. So that the Sense appears to be as it is render'd here [
They
wash'd,
and threw away their
Washings.] Perhaps this Lustration might be used as a Physical Remedy in cleansing them from the Infection of the Plague: as
Pausanias
tells us it was by the
Arcadians,
from whence he says the Plague was called
by the
Greeks.
XXXIX.
VERSEE 430.
At awful distance silent.
]
There was requir'd a very remarkable Management to preserve all the Characters which are concern'd in this nice Conjuncture, wherein the Heralds were to obey at their Peril.
Agamemnon
was to be gratify'd by an Insult on
Achilles,
and
Achilles
was to suffer so as might become his Pride, and not have his violent Temper provok'd. From all this the Poet has found the Secret to extricate himself, by only taking care to make his Heralds stand in sight, and silent. Thus they neither make
Agamemnon
's Majesty suffer by uttering their Message submissively, nor occasion a rough Treatment from
Achilles
by demanding
Briseis
in the peremptory Air he order'd; and at the same time
Achilles
is gratify'd with the Opportunity of giving her up, as if he rather sent her than was forc'd to relinquish her. The Art of this has been taken notice of by
Eustathius.
XL.
VERSE 451.
She in soft Sorrows.
]
The Behaviour of
Briseis
in her Departure is no less beautifully imagin'd than the former. A
French
or
Italian
Poet had lavish'd all his Wit and Passion in two long Speeches on this Occasion, which the
Heralds
must have wept to hear; instead of which
Homer
gives us a fine Picture of Nature. We see
Briseis
passing unwillingly along, with a dejected Air, melted in Tenderness, and not able to utter a word: And in the Lines immediately following, we have a
Contraste
to this in the gloomy Resentment of
Achilles,
who suddenly retires to the Shore and vents his Rage aloud to the Seas. The Variation of the Numbers just in this Place adds a great Beauty to it, which has been endeavour'd at in the Translation.
XLI.
VERSE 458.
There bath'd in Tears.
]
Eustathius observes on this Place that it is no Weakness in Heroes to weep, but the very Effect of Humanity and Proof of a generous Temper; for which he offers several Instances, and takes notice that if
Sophocles
would not let
Ajax
weep, it is because he is drawn rather as a Madman than a Heroe. But this general Observation is not all we can offer in excuse for the Tears of
Achilles:
His are Tears of Anger and Disdain (as I have ventur'd to call them in the Translation) of which a great and fiery Temper is more susceptible than any other; and even in this case
Homer
has taken care to preserve the high Character, by making him retire to vent his Tears out of sight. And we may add to these an Observation of which Madam
Dacier
is fond, which is, the Reason why
Agamemnon
parts not in Tears from
Chryseis,
and
Achilles
should from
Briseis:
The one parts willingly from his Mistress, and because he does it for his People's Safety it becomes an Honour to him: the other is parted unwillingly, and because his General takes her by force the Action reflects a Dishonour upon him.
XLII.
VERSE 464.
The Thund'rer ow'd.
]
This alludes to a Story which
Achilles
tells the Embassadors of
Agamemnon, Il.
9. That he had the Choice of two Fates: one less glorious at home, but blessed with a very long Life; the other full of Glory at
Troy,
but then he was never to return. The Alternative being thus propos'd to him (not from
Jupitcr
but
Thetis
who reveal'd the Decree) he chose the latter, which he looks upon as his due, since he gives away length of Life for it: and accordingly when he complains to his Mother of the Disgrace he lies under, it is in this manner he makes a demand of Honour.
Mons.
de la Motte
very judiciously observes, that but for this Fore-knowledge of the Certainty of his Death at
Troy, Achilles
's Character could have drawn but little Esteem from the Reader. A Heroe of a vicious Mind, blest only with a Superiority of Strength, and invulnerable into the bargain, was not very proper to excite Admiration; but
Homer
by this exquisite Piece of Art has made him the greatest of Heroes, who is still pursuing Glory in contempt of Death, and even under that Certainty generously devoting himself in every Action.
XLIII.
VERSE 478.
From
Thebae.]
Homer
who open'd his Poem with the Action which immediately brought on
Achilles
's Anger, being now to give an Account of the same thing again, takes his Rise more backward in the Story. Thus the Reader is inform'd in what he should know, without having been delay'd from entering upon the promis'd Subject. This is the first Attempt which we see made towards the Poetical Method of Narration, which differs from the Historical in that it does not proceed always directly in the Line of Time, but sometimes relates things which have gone before when a more proper Opportunity demands it to make the Narration more informing or beautiful.
The foregoing Remark is in regard only to the first six Lines of this Speech. What follows is a Rehearsal of the preceding Action of the Poem, almost in the same Words he had used in the opening it; and is one of those Faults which has with most Justice been objected to our Author. It is not to be deny'd but the Account must be tedious, of what the Reader had been just before inform'd: and especially when we are given to understand it was no way necessary, by what
Achilles
says at the beginning, that
Thetis knew the whole Story already.
As to repeating the same Lines, a Practice usual with
Homer,
it is not so excusable in this Place as in those where Messages are deliver'd in the Words they were receiv'd, or the like; it being unnatural to imagine, that the Person whom the Poet introduces as actually speaking, should fall into the self-same Words that are us'd in the Narration by the Poet himself. Yet
Milton
was so great an Admirer and Imitator of our Author, as not to have scrupled even this kind of Repetition. The Passage is at the end of his tenth Book, where
Adam
having declar'd he would prostrate himself before God in certain particular Acts of Humiliation, those Acts are immediately after describ'd by the Poet in the same Words.
XLIV.
VERSE 514.
Oft hast thou triumph'd.
]
The Persuasive which
Achilles
is here made to put into the Mouth of
Thetis,
is most artfully contriv'd to suit the present Exigency. You, says he, must intreat
Jupiter
to bring Miseries on the
Greeks
who are protected by
Juno, Neptune,
and
Minerva:
Put him therefore in mind that those Deities were once his Enemies, and adjure him by that Service you did him when those very Powers would have bound him, that he will now in his turn assist you against the Endeavours they will certainly oppose to my Wishes.
Eustathius.
As for the Story itself, some have thought (with whom is Madam
Dacier
) that there was some imperfect Tradition of the Fall of the Angels for their Rebellion, which the
Greeks
had receiv'd by Commerce with
Aegypt:
and thus they account the Rebellion of the Gods, the Precipitation of
Vulcan
from Heaven; and
Jove
's threatning the inferior Gods with
Tartarus
in
Il.
8. but as so many Hints of Scripture faintly imitated. But it seems not improbable that the Wars of the Gods, described by the Poets, allude to the Confusion of the Elements before they were brought into their natural Order. It is almost generally agreed that by
Jupiter
is meant the
Aether,
and by
Juno
the
Air.
The ancient Philosophers suppos'd the
Aether
to be igneous, and by its kind Influence upon the
Air
to be the Cause of all Vegetation: Therefore
Homer
says in the 14
th Iliad,
℣. 346. That upon
Jupiter
's embracing his Wife, the Earth put forth its Plants. Perhaps by
Thetis
's assisting
Jupiter,
may be meant that the watry Element subsiding and taking its natural Place, put an end to this Combat of the Elements.
XLV.
VERSE 523.
Whom Gods
Briareus,
Men
Aegeon
name.
]
This manner of making the Gods speak a Language different from Men (which is frequent in
Homer
) is a Circumstance that as far as it widens the distinction between divine and human Natures, so far might tend to heighten the Reverence paid the Gods. But besides this, as the difference is thus told in Poetry, it is of use to the Poets themselves: For it appears like a kind of Testimony of their Inspiration, or their Converse with the Gods, and thereby gives a Majesty to their Works.
XLVI.
VERSE 554.
The Sire of Gods, and all th' Etherial Train,
On the warm Limits of the farthest Main,
Now mix with Mortals, nor disdain to grace
The Feasts of
Aethiopia
's blameless Race.
]
The
Aethiopians,
says
Diodorus, l.
3. are said to be the Inventors of Pomps, Sacrifices, solemn Meetings, and other Honours paid to the Gods. From hence arose their Character of Piety, which is here celebrated by
Homer.
Among these there was an annual Feast at
Diospolis,
which
Eustathius
mentions, wherein they carry'd about the Statues of
Jupiter
and the other Gods, for twelve Days, according to their Number: to which if we add the ancient Custom of setting Meat before Statues, it will appear a Rite from which this Fable might easily arise. But it would be a great Mistake to imagine from this Place, that
Homer
represents the Gods as eating and drinking upon Earth: a gross Notion he was never guilty of, as appears from these Verses in the fifth Book, Line 340.
Macrobius
would have it, that by
Jupiter
here mention'd is meant the
Sun,
and that the Number Twelve hints at the twelve Signs; but whatever may be said in a critical Defence of this Opinion, I believe the Reader will be satisfy'd that
Homer
consider'd as a Poet would have his Machinery understood upon that System of the Gods which is properly
Graecian.
One may take notice here, that it were to be wish'd some Passage were found in any authentic Author that might tell us the time of the Year when the
Aethiopians
kept this Festival at
Diospolis:
For from thence one might determine the precise Season of the Year wherein the Actions of the
Iliad
are represented to have happen'd; and perhaps by that means farther explain the Beauty and Propriety of many Passages in the Poem.
XLVII.
VERSE 600.
The Sacrifice.
]
If we consider this Passage, it is not made to shine in Poetry: All that can be done is to give it Numbers, and endeavour to set the Particulars in a distinct View. But if we take it in another Light, and as a Piece of Learning, it is valuable for being the most exact Account of the ancient Sacrifices any where left us. There is first the Purification, by washing of Hands. Secondly the offering up of Prayers. Thirdly the
Mola,
or Barley Cakes thrown upon the Victim. Fourthly the manner of killing it with the Head turn'd upwards to the celestial Gods (as they turn'd it downwards when they offer'd to the Infernals.) Fifthly their selecting the Thighs and Fat for their Gods as the best of the Sacrifice, and the disposing about them pieces cut from every part for a Representation of the whole: (Hence the Thighs, or
, are frequently us'd in
Homer
and the
Greek
Poets for the whole Victim.) Sixthly the Libation of Wine. Seventhly consuming the Thighs in the Fire of the Altar. Eighthly the Sacrificers dressing and Feasting on the rest, with Joy and Hymns to the Gods. Thus punctually have the ancient Poets and in particular
Homer,
written with a care and respect to Religion. One may question whether any Country as much a Stranger to Christianity as we are to Heathenism, might be so well inform'd by our Poets in the Worship belonging to any Profession of Religion at present.
I am obliged to take notice how intirely Mr.
Dryden
has mistaken the Sense of this Passage, and the Custom of Antiquity; for in his Translation, the Cakes are thrown into the Fire instead of being cast on the Victim; the Sacrificers are made to eat the Thighs and whatever belong'd to the Gods; and no part of the Victim is consum'd for a Burnt-offering, so that in effect there is no Sacrifice at all. Some of the Mistakes (particularly that of
turning the Roast-meat on the Spits,
which was not known in
Homer
's Days) he was led into by
Chapman
's Translation.
XLVIII.
VERSE 681.
The faithful, fix'd, irrevocable Sign.
]
There are among Men three things by which the Efficacy of a Promise may be made void; the Design not to perform it, the want of Power to bring it to pass, and the Instability of our Tempers, from all which
Homer
saw that the Divinity must be exempted, and therefore he describes the
Nod,
or Ratification of
Jupiter
's word, as
faithful
in Opposition to
Fraud, sure
of being perform'd in Opposition to
Weakness,
and
irrevocable
in Opposition to our
repenting
of a Promise.
Eustathius.
XLIX.
VERSE 683.
He spoke, and awful bends.
]
This Description of the Majesty of
Jupiter
has something exceedingly grand and venerable.
Macrobius
reports, that
Phidias
having made his
Olympian Jupiter
which past for one of the greatest Miracles of Art, he was ask'd from what Pattern he fram'd so divine a Figure, and answer'd, it was from that Archetype which he found in these Lines of
Homer.
The same Author has also taken notice of
Virgil
's imitating it,
l.
10.
Dixerat, idque ratum Stygii per flumina fratris,
Per pice torrentes atraque voragine ripas;
Annuit, & totum nutu tremefecit Olympum.
Here indeed he has preserv'd the
Nod
with its stupendous Effect, the making the Heavens tremble. But he has neglected the Description of the Eyebrows and the Hair, those chief Pieces of Imagery from whence the Artist took the Idea of a Countenance proper for the King of Gods and Men.
Thus far
Macrobius,
whom
Scaliger
answers in this manner;
Aut ludunt Phidiam, aut nos ludit Phidias: Etiam sine
Homero
puto illum scisse, Jovem non carere superciliis & caesarie.
L.
VERSE 694. Jove
assumes the Throne.
]
As
Homer
makes the first Council of his Men to be one continued Scene of Anger, whereby the
Graecian
Chiefs became divided, so he makes the first Meeting of the Gods to be spent in the same Passion; whereby
Jupiter
is more fix'd to assist the
Trojans
and
Juno
more incens'd against them. Thus the Design of the Poem goes on: the Anger which began the Book overspreads all existent Beings by the latter end of it: Heaven and Earth become engag'd in the Subject, by which it rises to a great Importance in the Reader's Eyes, and is hasten'd forward into the briskest Scenes of Action that can be fram'd upon that violent Passion.
LI.
VERSE 698.
Say, artful Manager.
]
The Gods and Goddesses being describ'd with all the Desires and Pleasures, the Passions and Humours of Mankind, the Commentators have taken a Licence from thence to draw not only moral Observations, but also satyrical Reflections out of this part of the Poet. These I am sorry to see fall so hard upon Womankind, and all by
Juno
's means. Sometimes she procures them a Lesson for their Curiosity and Unquietness, and at other times for their loud and vexatious Tempers.
Juno
deserves them on the one hand,
Jupiter
thunders them out on the other, and the learned Gentlemen are very particular in enlarging with Remarks on both sides. In her first Speech they make the Poet describe the inquisitive Temper of Womankind in general, and their Restlesness if they are not admitted into every Secret. In his Answer to this, they trace those Methods of grave Remonstrance by which it is proper for Husbands to calm them. In her Reply, they find it is the Nature of Women to be more obstinate for being yielded to: and in his second Return to her, they see the last Method to be used with them upon failure of the first, which is the Exercise of Sovereign Authority.
Mr.
Dryden
has translated all this with the utmost Severity upon the Ladies, and spirited the whole with satyrical Additions of his own. But Madam
Dacier
(who has elsewhere animadverted upon the good Bishop of
Thessalonica,
for his sage Admonitions against the Fair Sex) has not taken the least notice of this general Defection from Complaisance in all the Commentators. She seems willing to give the whole Passage a more important Turn, and incline us to think that
Homer
design'd to represent the Folly and Danger of prying into the Secrets of Providence. 'Tis thrown into that Air in this Translation, not only as it is more noble and instructive in general, but as it is more respectful to the Ladies in particular; nor should we (any more than Madam
Dacier
) have mention'd what those old Fellows have said, but to desire their Protection against some modern Criticks their Disciples, who may arraign this Proceeding.
LII.
VERSE 713.
Roll'd the large Orbs.
]
The
Greek
is
, which is commonly translated
The venerable Oxey'd
Juno. Madam
Dacier
very well observes that
is only an augmentative Particle, and signifies no more than
valdè.
It may be added, that the Imagination of Oxen having larger Eyes than ordinary is ill grounded, and has no Foundation in Truth; their Eyes are no larger in proportion than those of Men, or of most other Animals. But be it as it will, the design of the Poet which is only to express the Largeness of her Eyes, is answer'd in this Paraphrase.
LIII.
VERSE 741.
Thus interpos'd the Architect divine.
]
This Quarrel of the Gods being come to its height, the Poet makes
Vulcan
interpose, who freely puts them in mind of Pleasure, inoffensively advises
Juno,
illustrates his Advice by an Example of his own Misfortune, turning the Jest on himself to enliven the Banquet; and concludes the Part he is to support with serving
Nectar
about.
Homer
had here his
Minerva
or
Wisdom
to interpose again, and every other Quality of the Mind resided in Heaven under the Appearance of some Deity: So that his introducing
Vulcan,
proceeded not from a want of Choice, but an Insight into Nature. He knew that a Friend to Mirth often diverts or stops Quarrels, especially when he contrives to submit himself to the Laugh, and prevails on the angry to part in good Humour or in a Disposition to Friendship; when grave Representations are sometimes Reproaches, sometimes lengthen the Debate by occasioning Defences, and sometimes introduce new Parties into the Consequences of it.
LIV.
VERSE 760.
Once in your Cause I felt his matchless Might.
]
They who search another Vein of Allegory for hidden Knowledges in Natural Philosophy, have consider'd
Jupiter
and
Juno
as
Heaven
and the
Air,
whose Alliance is interrupted when the Air is troubled above, but restor'd again when it is clear'd by
Heat,
or
Vulcan
the God of Heat. Him they call a divine Artificer, from the Activity or general Use of Fire in working. They suppose him to be born in Heaven where Philosophers say that Element has its proper Place; and is thence deriv'd to the Earth which is signify'd by the Fall of
Vulcan;
that he fell in
Lemnos,
because that Island abounds with Subterranean Fires; and that he contracted a Lameness or Imperfection by the Fall; the Fire not being so pure and active below, but mix'd and terrestrial.
Eustathius.
LVI.
VERSE 767.
Which with a Smile the white-arm'd Queen receiv'd.
]
The Epithet
, or
white-arm'd,
is used by
Homer
several times before in this Book. This was the first Passage where it could be introduced with any Ease or Grace, because the Action she is here describ'd in, of extending her Arm to the Cup, gives it an occasion of displaying its Beauties, and in a manner demands the Epithet.
LVII.
VERSE 771.
Laughter shakes the Skies.
]
Vulcan design'd to move Laughter by taking upon him the Office of
Hebe
and
Ganymede,
with his aukward limping Carriage. But tho' he prevail'd and
Homer
tells you the Gods did laugh, yet he takes care not to mention a word of Lameness. It would have been cruel in him and Wit out of Season, to have enlarg'd with Derision upon an Imperfection which is out of one's Power to remedy.
According to this good-natur'd Opinion of
Eustathius,
Mr.
Dryden
has treated
Vulcan
a little barbarously. He makes his Character perfectly comical, he is the Jest of the Board, and the Gods are very merry upon the Imperfections of his Figure.
Chapman
led him into this Error in general, as well as into some Indecencies of Expression in particular, which will be seen upon comparing them.
LVIII.
VERSE 778.
Then to their starry Domes.
]
The Astrologers assign twelve Houses to the Planets, wherein they are said to have Dominion. Now because
Homer
tells us
Vulcan
built a Mansion for every God, the Ancients write that he first gave occasion for this Doctrine.
LIX.
VERSE 780. Jove
on his Couch reclin'd his awful Head.
]
Eustathius makes a distinction between
and
; the Words which are used at the end of this Book and the beginning of the next, with regard to
Jupiter
's sleeping. He says
only means Lying down in a Disposition to sleep; which salves the Contradiction that else would follow in the next Book, where it is said
Jupiter
did not sleep. I only mention this to vindicate the Translation which differs from Mr.
Dryden
's.
It has been remark'd by the Scholiasts, that this is the only Book of the twenty four without any
Simile,
a Figure in which
Homer
abounds every where else. The like Remark is made by Madam
Dacier
upon the first of the
Odysses;
and because the Poet has observ'd the same Conduct in both Works, it is concluded he thought a Simplicily of Style without the great Figures was proper during the first Information of the Reader. This Observation may be true, and admits of refin'd Reasonings; but for my part I cannot think the Book had been the worse, tho' he had thrown in as many
Similes
as
Virgil
has in the first
Aeneid.
THE SECOND BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The ARGUMENT.
The Tryal of the Army and Catalogue of the Forces.
JUPITER in pursuance of the Request of
Thetis,
sends a deceitful Vision to
Agamemnon,
persuading him to lead the Army to Battel; in order to make the
Greeks
sensible of their want of
Achilles.
The General, who is deluded with the hopes of taking
Troy
without his Assistance, but fears the Army was discourag'd by his Absence and the late Plague, as well as by length of Time, contrives to make trial of their Disposition by a Stratagem. He first communicates his Design to the Princes in Council, that he would propose a Return to the Soldiers, and that they should put a stop to them if the Proposal was embrac'd. Then he assembles the whole Host, and upon moving for a Return to
Greece,
they unanimously agree to it and run to prepare the Ships. They are detain'd by the Management of
Ulysses,
who chastises the Insolence of
Thersites.
The Assembly is recall'd, several Speeches made on the occasion, and at length the Advice of
Nestor
follow'd, which was to make a general Muster of the Troops, and to divide them into their several Nations, before they proceeded to Battel. This gives occasion to the Poet to ennumerate all the Forces of the
Greeks
and
Trojans,
in a large Catalogue.
The
Time
employ'd in this Book consists not intirely of one Day. The
Scene
lies in the
Graecian Camp
and upon the
Sea-Shore;
toward the end it removes to
Troy.
THE SECOND BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
NOW pleasing
Sleep
had seal'd each mortal Eye,
Stretch'd in the Tents the
Grecian
Leaders lie,
Th' Immortals slumber'd on their Thrones above;
All, but the ever-wakeful Eyes of
Jove.
To honour
Thetis'
Son he bends his Care,
And plunge the
Greeks
in all the Woes of War:
Then bids an empty Phantome rise to sight,
And thus commands the
Vision
of the Night.
Fly hence, deluding
Dream!
and light as Air,
To
Agamemnon
's ample Tent repair.
Bid him in Arms draw forth th' embattel'd Train,
Lead all his
Grecians
to the dusty Plain.
Declare, ev'n now 'tis giv'n him to destroy
The lofty Tow'rs of wide-extended
Troy.
For now no more the Gods with Fate contend,
At
Juno
's Suit the Heav'nly Factions end.
Destruction hangs o'er yon' devoted Wall,
And nodding
Ilion
waits th' impending Fall.
Swift as the Word the vain
Illusion
fled,
Descends and hovers o'er
Atrides'
Head;
Cloath'd in the Figure of the
Pylian
Sage,
Renown'd for Wisdom, and rever'd for Age;
Around his Temples spreads his golden Wing,
And thus the flatt'ring
Dream
deceives the King.
Canst thou, with all a Monarch's Cares opprest,
Oh
Atreus'
Son! canst thou indulge thy Rest?
Ill fits a Chief who mighty Nations guides,
Directs in Council, and in War presides,
To whom its Safety a whole People owes,
To waste long Nights in indolent Repose?
Monarch awake! 'tis
Jove
's Command I bear,
Thou, and thy Glory, claim his heav'nly Care.
In just Array draw forth th' embattel'd Train,
Lead all thy
Grecians
to the dusty Plain;
Ev'n now, O King! 'tis giv'n thee to destroy
The lofty Tow'rs of wide-extended
Troy.
For now no more the Gods with Fate contend,
At
Juno
's Suit the Heav'nly Factions end.
Destruction hangs o'er yon' devoted Wall,
And nodding
Ilion
waits th' impending Fall.
Awake, but waking this Advice approve,
And trust the
Vision
that descends from
Jove.
The
Phantome
said; then, vanish'd from his sight,
Resolves to Air, and mixes with the Night.
A thousand Schemes the Monarch's Mind employ;
Elate in Thought, he sacks untaken
Troy:
Vain as he was, and to the Future blind;
Nor saw what
Jove
and secret Fate design'd,
What mighty Toils to either Host remain,
What Scenes of Grief and Mountains of the Slain!
Eager he rises, and in Fancy hears
The Voice Celestial murm'ring in his Ears.
First on his Limbs a slender Vest he drew,
Around him next the Regal Mantle threw,
Th' embroider'd Sandals on his Feet were ty'd,
The starry Faulchion glitter'd at his side;
And last his Arm the massy Sceptre loads,
Unstain'd, immortal, and the Gift of Gods.
Now rosie Morn ascends the Court of
Jove,
Lifts up her Light, and opens Day above.
The King dispatch'd his Heralds with Commands
To range the Camp, and summon all the Bands:
The gath'ring Hosts the Monarch's Word obey;
While to the Fleet
Atrides
bends his way.
In his black Ship the
Pylian
Prince he found,
There calls a Senate of the Peers around.
Th' Assembly plac'd, the King of Men exprest
The Counsels lab'ring in his artful Breast.
Friends and Confed'rates! with attentive Ear
Receive my Words, and credit what you hear.
Late as I slumber'd in the Shades of Night,
A Dream Divine appear'd before my Sight;
Whose Visionary Form like
Nestor
came,
The same in Habit, and in Mien the same.
The heav'nly
Phantome
hover'd o'er my Head,
And, Dost thou sleep, Oh
Atreus'
Son? (he said)
Ill suits a Chief who mighty Nations guides,
Directs in Council and in War presides,
To whom its Safety a whole People owes;
To waste long Nights in indolent Repose.
Monarch awake! 'tis
Jove
's Command I bear,
Thou and thy Glory claim his heav'nly Care;
In just Array draw forth th' embattel'd Train,
And lead the
Grecians
to the dusty Plain;
Ev'n now, O King! 'tis giv'n thee to destroy
The lofty Tow'rs of wide-extended
Troy.
For now no more the Gods with Fate contend,
At
Juno
's Suit the Heav'nly Factions end.
Destruction hangs o'er yon' devoted Wall,
And nodding
Ilion
waits th' impending Fall.
This hear observant; and the Gods obey!
The Vision spoke, and past in Air away.
Now, valiant Chiefs! since Heav'n itself alarms,
Unite, and rouze the Sons of
Greece
to Arms.
But first, with Caution, try what yet they dare,
Worn with nine Years of unsuccessful War?
To move the Troops to measure back the Main,
Be mine; and yours the Province to detain.
He spoke, and sate; when
Nestor
rising said,
(
Nestor,
whom
Pylos'
sandy Realms obey'd)
Princes of
Greece,
your faithful Ears incline,
Nor doubt the Vision of the Pow'rs Divine;
Sent by great
Jove
to him who rules the Host,
Forbid it Heav'n! this Warning should be lost!
Then let us haste, obey the Gods Alarms,
And join to rouze the Sons of
Greece
to Arms.
Thus spoke the Sage: The Kings without Delay
Dissolve the Council, and their Chief obey:
The sceptred Rulers lead; the following Host
Pour'd forth in Millions, darkens all the Coast.
As from some Rocky Cleft the Shepherd sees
Clust'ring in Heaps on Heaps the driving Bees,
Rolling, and black'ning, Swarms succeeding Swarms,
With deeper Murmurs and more hoarse Alarms;
Dusky they spread, a close-embody'd Crowd,
And o'er the Vale descends the living Cloud.
So, from the Tents and Ships, a length'ning Train
Spreads all the Beach, and wide o'ershades the Plain:
Along the Region runs a deaf'ning Sound;
Beneath their Footsteps groans the trembling Ground.
Fame
flies before, the Messenger of
Jove,
And shining soars and claps her Wings above.
Nine sacred Heralds now proclaiming loud
The Monarch's Will, suspend the list'ning Crowd.
Soon as the Throngs in Order rang'd appear,
And fainter Murmurs dy'd upon the Ear,
The King of Kings his awful Figure rais'd;
High in his Hand the Golden Sceptre blaz'd:
The Golden Sceptre, of Celestial Frame,
By
Vulcan
form'd, from
Jove
to
Hermes
came:
To
Pelops
He th' immortal Gift resign'd;
Th' immortal Gift great
Pelops
left behind,
In
Atreus'
Hand; which not with
Atreus
ends,
To rich
Thyestes
next the Prize descends;
And now the Mark of
Agamemnon
's Reign,
Subjects all
Argos,
and controuls the Main.
On this bright Sceptre now the King reclin'd,
And artful thus pronounc'd the Speech design'd.
Ye Sons of
Mars,
partake your Leader's Care,
Heroes of
Greece,
and Brothers of the War!
Of partial
Jove
with Justice I complain,
And Heav'nly Oracles believ'd in vain.
A safe Return was promis'd to our Toils,
Renown'd, triumphant, and enrich'd with Spoils.
Our Now shameful Flight alone can save the Host,
Blood, our Treasure, and our Glory lost.
So
Jove
decrees, resistless Lord of All!
At whose Command whole Empires rise or fall:
He shakes the feeble Props of human Trust,
And Towns and Armies humbles to the Dust.
What Shame to
Greece
a fruitless War to wage,
Oh lasting Shame in ev'ry future Age!
Once great in Arms, the common Scorn we grow,
Repuls'd and baffled by a feeble Foe.
So small their Number, that if Wars were ceas'd,
And
Greece
triumphant held a gen'ral Feast,
All rank'd by Tens; whole Decads when they dine
Must want a
Trojan
Slave to pour the Wine.
But other Forces have our Hopes o'erthrown,
And
Troy
prevails by Armies not her own.
Now nine long Years of mighty
Jove
are run,
Since first the Labours of this War begun:
Our Cordage torn, decay'd our Vessels lie,
And scarce ensure the wretched Pow'r to fly.
Haste then, for ever leave the
Trojan
Wall!
Our weeping Wives, our tender Children call:
'Tis Love, Duty, Safety, summon us away,
Nature's Voice, and Nature we obey.
Our shatter'd Barks may yet transport us o'er,
Safe and inglorious, to our native Shore.
Fly,
Grecians
fly, your Sails and Oars employ,
And dream no more of Heav'n-defended
Troy.
His deep Design unknown, the Hosts approve
Atrides'
Speech. The mighty Numbers move.
So roll the Billows to th'
Icarian
Shore,
From East and South when Winds begin to roar,
Burst their dark Mansions in the Clouds, and sweep
The whitening Surface of the ruffled Deep.
And as on Corn when Western Gusts descend,
Before the Blast the lofty Harvests bend:
Thus o'er the Field the moving Host appears,
With nodding Plumes and Groves of waving Spears.
The gath'ring Murmur spreads; their trampling Feet
Beat the loose Sands, and thicken to the Fleet.
With long-resounding Cries they urge the Train,
To fit the Ships, and launch into the Main.
They toil, they sweat, thick Clouds of Dust arise,
The doubling Clamours eccho to the Skies.
Ev'n then the
Greeks
had left the hostile Plain,
And Fate decreed the Fall of
Troy
in vain;
But
Jove
's Imperial Queen their Flight survey'd,
And sighing thus bespoke the blue-ey'd Maid.
Shall then the
Grecians
fly? Oh dire Disgrace!
And leave unpunish'd this perfidious Race?
Shall
Troy,
shall
Priam,
and th'Adult'rous Spouse,
In Peace enjoy the Fruits of broken Vows?
And bravest Chiefs, in
Helen
's Quarrel slain,
Lie unreveng'd on yon' detested Plain?
No—let my
Greeks,
unmov'd by vain Alarms,
Once more refulgent shine in Brazen Arms.
Haste, Goddess, haste! the flying Host detain,
Nor let one Sail be hoisted on the Main.
Pallas
obeys, and from
Olympus'
Height
Swift to the Ships precipitates her Flight;
Ulysses,
first in publick Cares, she found,
For prudent Counsel like the Gods renown'd:
Oppress'd with gen'rous Grief the Heroe stood,
Nor drew his sable Vessels to the Flood.
And is it thus, divine
Laertes'
Son!
Thus fly the
Greeks
(the Martial Maid begun)
Thus to their Country bear their own Disgrace,
Fame eternal leave to
Priam
's Race?
Shall beauteous
Helen
still remain unfreed,
Still unreveng'd a thousand Heroes bleed?
Haste gen'rous
Ithacus!
prevent the Shame,
Recall your Armies, and your Chiefs reclaim.
Your own resistless Eloquence employ,
And to th' Immortals trust the Fall of
Troy.
The Voice Divine confess'd the Warlike Maid,
Ulysses
heard, nor uninspir'd obey'd.
Then meeting first
Atrides,
from his Hand
Receiv'd th' Imperial Sceptre of Command,
Thus grac'd, Attention and Respect to gain,
He runs, he flies, thro' all the
Grecian
Train,
Each Prince of Name, or Chief in Arms approv'd,
He fir'd with Praise or with Persuasion mov'd.
Warriors like you, with Strength and Wisdom blest,
By brave Examples should confirm the rest.
The Monarch's Will not yet reveal'd appears;
He tries our Courage, but resents our Fears.
Th' unwary
Greeks
his Fury may provoke;
Not thus the King in secret Council spoke.
Jove
loves our Chief, from
Jove
his Honour springs,
Beware! for dreadful is the Wrath of Kings.
But if a clam'rous vile
Plebeian
rose,
Him with Reproof he check'd, or tam'd with Blows.
Be still thou Slave! and to thy Betters yield;
Unknown alike in Council and in Field!
Ye Gods, what Dastards would our Host command?
Swept to the War, the Lumber of a Land.
Be silent Wretch, and think not here allow'd
That worst of Tyrants, an usurping Crowd.
To One sole Monarch
Jove
commits the Sway;
His are the Laws, and Him let all obey.
With Words like these the Troops
Ulysses
rul'd,
The loudest silenc'd, and the fiercest cool'd.
Back to th' Assembly roll the thronging Train,
Desert the Ships, and pour upon the Plain.
Murm'ring they move, as when old
Ocean
roars,
And heaves huge Surges to the trembling Shores:
The groaning Banks are burst with bellowing Sound,
The Rocks remurmur, and the Deeps rebound.
At length the Tumult sinks, the Noises cease,
And a still Silence lulls the Camp to Peace.
Thersites
only clamour'd in the Throng,
Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of Tongue:
Aw'd by no Shame, by no Respect controul'd,
In Scandal busie, in Reproaches bold:
With witty Malice, studious to defame,
Scorn all his Joy, and Laughter all his Aim.
But chief he glory'd with licentious Style
To lash the Great, and Monarchs to revile.
His Figure such as might his Soul proclaim;
One Eye was blinking, and one Leg was lame:
His Mountain-Shoulders half his Breast o'erspread,
Thin Hairs bestrew'd his long mis-shapen Head.
Spleen to Mankind his envious Heart possest,
And much he hated All, but most the Best.
Ulysses
or
Achilles
still his Theme;
But Royal Scandal his Delight supreme.
Long had he liv'd the Scorn of ev'ry
Greek,
Vext when he spoke, yet still they heard him speak.
Sharp was his Voice; which in the shrillest Tone,
Thus with injurious Taunts attack'd the Throne.
Amidst the Glories of so bright a Reign,
What moves the great
Atrides
to complain?
'Tis thine whate'er the Warrior's Breast inflames,
The golden Spoil, and thine the lovely Dames.
With all the Wealth our Wars and Blood bestow,
Thy Tents are crowded, and thy Chests o'erflow.
Thus at full Ease in Heaps of Riches roll'd,
What grieves the Monarch? Is it Thirst of Gold?
Say shall we march with our unconquer'd Pow'rs,
(The
Greeks
and I) to
Ilion
's hostile Tow'rs,
And bring the Race of Royal Bastards here,
For
Troy
to ransom at a Price too dear?
But safer Plunder thy own Host supplies;
Say would'st thou seize some valiant Leader's Prize?
Or, if thy Heart to gen'rous Love be led,
Some Captive Fair, to bless thy Kingly Bed?
Whate'er our Master craves, submit we must,
Plagu'd with his Pride, or punish'd for his Lust.
Oh Women of
Achaia!
Men no more!
Hence let us fly, and let him waste his Store
In Loves and Pleasures on the
Phrygian
Shore.
We may be wanted on some busie Day,
When
Hector
comes: So great
Achilles
may:
From him he forc'd the Prize we jointly gave,
From him, the fierce, the fearless, and the brave:
And durst he, as he ought, resent that Wrong,
This mighty Tyrant were no Tyrant long.
Fierce from his Seat, at this,
Ulysses
springs,
In gen'rous Vengeance of the King of Kings.
With Indignation sparkling in his Eyes,
He views the Wretch, and sternly thus replies.
Peace, factious Monster, born to vex the State,
With wrangling Talents form'd for foul Debate:
Curb that impetuous Tongue, nor rashly vain
And singly mad, asperse the Sov'reign Reign.
Have we not known thee, Slave! of all our Host,
The Man who acts the least, upbraids the most?
Think not the
Greeks
to shameful Flight to bring,
Nor let those Lips profane the Name of King.
For our Return we trust the heav'nly Pow'rs;
Be that their Care; to fight like Men be ours.
But grant the Host with Wealth the Gen'ral load,
Except Detraction, what hast thou bestow'd?
Suppose some Hero should his Spoils resign,
Art thou that Hero, could those Spoils be thine?
Gods! let me perish on this hateful Shore,
And let these Eyes behold my Son no more;
If, on thy next Offence, this Hand forbear
To strip those Arms thou ill deserv'st to wear,
Expell the Council where our Princes meet,
And send thee scourg'd, and howling thro' the Fleet.
He said, and cow'ring as the Dastard bends,
The weighty Sceptre on his Back descends:
On the round Bunch the bloody Tumors rise;
The Tears spring starting from his haggard Eyes:
Trembling he sate, and shrunk in abject Fears,
From his vile Visage wip'd the scalding Tears.
While to his Neighbour each express'd his Thought;
Ye Gods! what Wonders has
Ulysses
wrought?
What Fruits his Conduct and his Courage yield?
Great in the Council, glorious in the Field.
Gen'rous he rises in the Crown's Defence,
To curb the factious Tongue of Insolence.
Such just Examples on Offenders shown,
Sedition silence, and assert the Throne.
'Twas thus the gen'ral Voice the Heroe prais'd,
Who rising, high th' Imperial Sceptre rais'd:
The blue-ey'd
Pallas,
his Celestial Friend,
(In Form a Herald) bade the Crowds attend.
Th' expecting Crowds in still Attention hung,
To hear the Wisdom of his heav'nly Tongue.
Then deeply thoughtful, pausing e're he spoke,
His Silence thus the prudent Hero broke.
Unhappy Monarch! whom the
Grecian
Race
With Shame deserting, heap with vile Disgrace.
Not such at
Argos
was their gen'rous Vow,
Once all their Voice, but ah! forgotten now:
Ne'er to return, was then the common Cry,
'Till
Troy
's proud Structures shou'd in Ashes lie.
Behold them weeping for their native Shore!
What cou'd their Wives or helpless Children more?
What Heart but melts to leave the tender Train,
And, one short Month, endure the Wintry Main?
Few Leagues remov'd, we wish our peaceful Seat,
When the Ship tosses, and the Tempests beat:
Then well may this long Stay provoke their Tears,
The tedious Length of nine revolving Years.
Not for their Grief the
Grecian
Host I blame;
But vanquish'd! baffled! oh eternal Shame!
Expect the Time to
Troy
's Destruction giv'n,
And try the Faith of
Calchas
and of Heav'n.
What past at
Aulis, Greece
can witness bear,
And all who live to breathe this
Phrygian
Air.
Beside a Fountain's sacred Brink we rais'd
Our verdant Altars, and the Victims blaz'd;
('Twas where the Plane-tree spread its Shades around)
The Altars heav'd; and from the crumbling Ground
A mighty Dragon shot, of dire Portent;
From
Jove
himself the dreadful Sign was sent.
Strait to the Tree his sanguine Spires he roll'd,
And curl'd around in many a winding Fold.
The topmost Branch a Mother-Bird possest;
Eight callow Infants fill'd the mossie Nest;
Herself the ninth: The Serpent as he hung,
Stretch'd his black Jaws, and crash'd the crying Young;
While hov'ring near, with miserable Moan,
The drooping Mother wail'd her Children gone.
The Mother last, as round the Nest she flew,
Seiz'd by the beating Wing, the Monster slew:
Nor long surviv'd; to Marble turn'd he stands
A lasting Prodigy on
Aulis'
Sands.
Such was the Will of
Jove;
and hence we dare
Trust in his Omen, and support the War.
For while around we gaz'd with wondring Eyes,
And trembling sought the Pow'rs with Sacrifice,
Full of his God, the rev'rend
Calchas
cry'd,
Ye
Grecian
Warriors! lay your Fears aside.
This wondrous Signal
Jove
himself displays,
Of long, long Labours, but Eternal Praise.
As many Birds as by the Snake were slain,
So many Years the Toils of
Greece
remain;
But wait the Tenth, for
Ilion
's Fall decreed:
Thus spoke the Prophet, thus the Fates succeed.
Obey, ye
Grecians!
with Submission wait,
Nor let your Flight avert the
Trojan
Fate.
He said: the Shores with loud Applauses sound,
The hollow Ships each deaf'ning Shout rebound.
Then
Nestor
thus—These vain Debates forbear,
Ye talk like Children, not like Heroes dare.
Where now are all your high Resolves at last,
Your Leagues concluded, your Engagements past?
Vow'd with Libations and with Victims then,
Now vanish'd like their Smoke: The Faith of Men!
While useless Words consume th' unactive Hours,
No wonder
Troy
so long resists our Pow'rs.
Rise, great
Atrides!
and with Courage sway;
We march to War if thou direct the Way.
But leave the few that dare resist thy Laws,
The mean Deserters of the
Grecian
Cause,
To grudge the Conquests mighty
Jove
prepares,
And view, with Envy, our successful Wars.
On that great Day when first the martial Train
Big with the Fate of
Ilion,
plow'd the Main,
Jove,
on the Right, a prosp'rous Signal sent,
And Thunder rolling shook the Firmament.
Encourag'd hence, maintain the glorious Strife,
'Till ev'ry Soldier grasp a
Phrygian
Wife,
'Till
Helen
's Woes at full reveng'd appear,
And
Troy
's proud Matrons render Tear for Tear.
Before that Day, if any
Greek
invite
His Country's Troops to base, inglorious Flight,
Stand forth that
Greek!
and hoist his Sail to fly;
And dye the Dastard first, who dreads to dye.
But now, O Monarch! all thy Chiefs advise:
Nor what they offer, thou thy self despise.
Among those Counsels, let not mine be vain;
In Tribes and Nations to divide thy Train:
His sep'rate Troops let ev'ry Leader call,
Each strengthen each, and all encourage all.
What Chief, or Soldier, of the num'rous Band,
Or bravely fights, or ill obeys Command,
When thus distinct they war, shall soon be known,
And what the Cause of
Ilion
not o'erthrown?
If Fate resists, or if our Arms are slow,
If Gods above prevent, or Men below?
To him the King: How much thy Years excell,
In Arts of Council, and in speaking well!
Oh would the Gods, in Love to
Greece,
decree
But ten such Sages as they grant in thee;
Such Wisdom soon should
Priam
's Force destroy,
And soon should fall the haughty Tow'rs of
Troy!
But
Jove
forbids, who plunges those he hates
In fierce Contention and in vain Debates.
Now great
Achilles
from our Aid withdraws,
By me provok'd; a Captive Maid the Cause:
If e'er as Friends we join, the
Trojan
Wall
Must shake, and heavy will the Vengeance fall!
But now, ye Warriors, take a short Repast;
And, well refresh'd, to bloody Conflict haste.
His sharpen'd Spear let ev'ry
Grecian
wield,
And ev'ry
Grecian
fix his Brazen Shield,
Let all excite the fiery Steeds of War,
And all for Combate fit the ratling Car.
This Day, this dreadful Day, let each contend;
No Rest, no Respite, 'till the Shades descend;
'Till Darkness, or 'till Death shall cover all:
Let the War bleed, and let the Mighty fall!
'Till bath'd in Sweat be ev'ry manly Breast,
With the huge Shield each brawny Arm deprest,
Each aking Nerve refuse the Lance to throw,
And each spent Courser at the Chariot blow.
Who dares, inglorious, in his Ships to stay,
Who dares to tremble on this signal Day,
That Wretch, too mean to fall by martial Pow'r,
The Birds shall mangle, and the Dogs devour.
The Monarch spoke: and strait a Murmur rose,
Loud as the Surges when the Tempest blows,
That dash'd on broken Rocks tumultuous roar,
And foam and thunder on the stony Shore.
Strait to the Tents the Troops dispersing bend,
The Fires are kindled, and the Smokes ascend;
With hasty Feasts they sacrifice, and pray
T'avert the Dangers of the doubtful Day.
A Steer of five Year's Age, large limb'd, and fed,
To
Jove
's high Altars
Agamemnon
led:
There bade the noblest of the
Grecian
Peers;
And
Nestor
first, as most advanc'd in Years.
Next came
Idomeneus
and
Tydeus'
Son,
Ajax
the less, and
Ajax Telamon;
Then wise
Ulysses
in his Rank was plac'd;
And
Menelaus
came unbid, the last.
The Chiefs surround the destin'd Beast, and take
The sacred Off'ring of the salted Cake:
When thus the King prefers his solemn Pray'r.
Oh Thou! whose Thunder rends the clouded Air,
Who in the Heav'n of Heav'ns hast fix'd thy Throne,
Supreme of Gods! unbounded, and alone!
Hear! and before the burning Sun descends,
Before the Night her gloomy Veil extends,
Low in the Dust be laid yon' hostile Spires,
Be
Priam
's Palace sunk in
Grecian
Fires,
In
Hector
's Breast be plung'd this shining Sword,
And slaughter'd Heroes groan around their Lord!
Thus pray'd the Chief: His unavailing Pray'r
Great
Jove
refus'd, and tost in empty Air:
The God averse, while yet the Fumes arose,
Prepar'd new Toils and doubled Woes on Woes.
Their Pray'rs perform'd, the Chiefs the Rite pursue,
The Barley sprinkled, and the Victim slew.
The Limbs they sever from th' inclosing Hyde,
The Thighs, selected to the Gods, divide.
On these, in double Cauls involv'd with Art,
The choicest Morsels lie from ev'ry Part.
From the cleft Wood the crackling Flames aspire,
While the fat Victim feeds the sacred Fire.
The Thighs thus sacrific'd and Entrails drest,
Th'Assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest;
Then spread the Tables, the Repast prepare,
Each takes his Seat, and each receives his Share.
Soon as the Rage of Hunger was supprest,
The gen'rous
Nestor
thus the Prince addrest.
Now bid thy Heralds sound the loud Alarms,
And call the Squadrons sheath'd in Brazen Arms:
Now seize th' Occasion, now the Troops survey,
And lead to War, when Heav'n directs the Way.
He said; the Monarch issu'd his Commands;
Strait the loud Heralds call the gath'ring Bands.
The Chiefs inclose their King; the Hosts divide,
In Tribes and Nations rank'd on either side.
High in the midst the blue-ey'd Virgin flies;
From Rank to Rank she darts her ardent Eyes:
The dreadful
Aegis, Jove
's immortal Shield,
Blaz'd on her Arm, and lighten'd all the Field:
Round the vast Orb an hundred Serpents roll'd,
Form'd the bright Fringe, and seem'd to burn in Gold.
With this, each
Grecian
's manly Breast she warms,
Swells their bold Hearts, and strings their nervous Arms;
No more they sigh, inglorious to return,
But breathe Revenge, and for the Combate burn.
As on some Mountain, thro' the lofty Grove
The crackling Flames ascend and blaze above,
The Fires expanding as the Winds arise,
Shoot their long Beams, and kindle half the Skies:
So from the polish'd Arms, and brazen Shields,
A gleamy Splendor flash'd along the Fields.
Not less their Number, than th' embody'd Cranes,
Or milk-white Swans in
Asius'
watry Plains,
That o'er the Windings of
Cayster
's Springs,
Stretch their long Necks, and clap their rustling Wings,
Now tow'r aloft, and course in airy Rounds;
Now light with Noise; with Noise the Field resounds.
Thus num'rous and confus'd, extending wide,
The Legions crowd
Scamander
's flow'ry Side,
With rushing Troops the Plains are cover'd o'er,
And thund'ring Footsteps shake the sounding Shore:
Along the River's level Meads they stand,
Thick as in Spring the Flow'rs adorn the Land,
Or Leaves the Trees; or thick as Insects play,
The wandring Nation of a Summer's Day,
That drawn by milky Steams, at Ev'ning Hours,
In gather'd Swarms surround the Rural Bow'rs;
From Pail to Pail with busie Murmur run
The gilded Legions glitt'ring in the Sun.
So throng'd, so close, the
Grecian
Squadrons stood
In radiant Arms, and thirst for
Trojan
Blood.
Each Leader now his scatter'd Force conjoins
In close Array, and forms the deep'ning Lines.
Not with more Ease, the skilful Shepherd Swain
Collects his Flock from Millions on the Plain.
The King of Kings, majestically tall,
Tow'rs o'er his Armies, and outshines them all:
Like some proud Bull that round the Pastures leads
His Subject-Herds, the Monarch of the Meads.
Great as the Gods th' exalted Chief was seen,
His Strength like
Neptune,
and like
Mars
his Mien,
Jove
o'er his Eyes celestial Glories spread,
And dawning Conquest play'd around his Head.
Say, Virgins, seated round the Throne Divine,
All-knowing
Goddesses!
immortal Nine!
Since Earth's wide Regions, Heav'n's unmeasur'd Height,
And Hell's Abyss hide nothing from your sight,
(We, wretched Mortals! lost in Doubts below,
But guess by Rumour, and but boast we know)
Oh say what Heroes, fir'd by Thirst of Fame,
Or urg'd by Wrongs, to
Troy
's Destruction came?
To count them all, demands a thousand Tongues,
A Throat of Brass, and Adamantine Lungs.
Daughters of
Jove
assist! inspir'd by You
The mighty Labour dauntless I pursue:
What crowded Armies, from what Climes they bring,
Their Names, their Numbers, and their Chiefs I sing.
THE CATALOGUE of the SHIPS.
THE hardy Warriors whom
Boeotia
bred,
Peneleus, Leitus, Prothoënor
led:
With these
Arcesilaus
and
Clonius
stand,
Equal in Arms, and equal in Command.
These head the Troops that Rocky
Aulis
yields,
And
Eteon
's Hills, and
Hyrie
's watry Fields,
And
Schoenos, Scolos, Graea
near the Main,
And
Mycalessia
's ample Piny Plain.
Those who in
Peteon
or
Ilesion
dwell,
Or
Harma
where
Apollo
's Prophet fell;
Heleon
and
Hylè,
which the Springs o'erflow;
And
Medeon
lofty, and
Ocalea
low;
Or in the Meads of
Haliartus
stray,
Or
Thespia
sacred to the God of Day.
Onchestus, Neptune
's celebrated Groves;
Copae,
and
Thisbè,
fam'd for silver Doves,
For Flocks
Erythrae, Glissa
for the Vine;
Plataea
green, and
Nisa
the divine.
And they whom
Thebè
's well-built Walls inclose,
Where
Mydè, Eutresis, Coronè
rose;
And
Arnè
rich, with purple Harvests crown'd;
And
Anthedon, Boeotia
's utmost Bound.
Full fifty Ships they send, and each conveys
Twice sixty Warriors thro' the foaming Seas.
To these succeed
Aspledon
's martial Train,
Who plow the spacious
Orchomenian
Plain.
Two valiant Brothers rule th' undaunted Throng,
Iälmen
and
Ascalaphus
the strong:
Sons of
Astyochè
the Heav'nly Fair,
Whose Virgin Charms subdu'd the God of War:
(In
Actor
's Court as she retir'd to Rest,
The Strength of
Mars
the blushing Maid comprest)
Their Troops in thirty sable Vessels sweep
With equal Oars, the hoarse-resounding Deep.
The
Phocians
next in forty Barks repair,
Epistrophus
and
Schedius
head the War.
From those rich Regions where
Cephisus
leads
His silver Current thro' the flow'ry Meads;
From
Panopëa, Chrysa
the Divine,
Where
Anemoria
's stately Turrets shine,
Where
Pytho, Daulis, Cyparissus
stood,
And fair
Lilaea
views the rising Flood.
These rang'd in Order on the floating Tide,
Close, on the left, the bold
Boeotians
side.
Fierce
Ajax
led the
Locrian
Squadrons on,
Ajax
the less,
Oïleus'
valiant Son;
Skill'd to direct the flying Dart aright;
Swift in Pursuit, and active in the Fight.
Him, as their Chief, the chosen Troops attend,
Which
Bessa, Thronus,
and rich
Cynos
send:
Opus, Calliarus,
and
Scarphe
's Bands;
And those who dwell where pleasing
Augia
stands,
And where
Boägrius
floats the lowly Lands,
Or in fair
Tarphe
's Sylvan Seats reside;
In forty Vessels cut the yielding Tide.
Euboea
next her martial Sons prepares,
And sends the brave
Abantes
to the Wars:
Breathing Revenge, in Arms they take their Way
From
Chalcis'
Walls, and strong
Eretria;
Th'
Isteian
Fields for gen'rous Vines renown'd,
The fair
Carystos,
and the
Styrian
Ground;
Where
Dios
from her Tow'rs o'erlooks the Plain,
And high
Cerinthus
views the Neighb'ring Main.
Down their broad Shoulders falls a Length of Hair;
Their Hands dismiss not the long Lance in Air;
But with portended Spears in fighting Fields,
Pierce the tough Cors'lets and the brazen Shields.
Twice twenty Ships transport the warlike Bands,
Which bold
Elphenor,
fierce in Arms, commands.
Full fifty more from
Athens
stem the Main,
Led by
Menestheus
thro' the liquid Plain,
(
Athens
the fair, where great
Erectheus
sway'd,
That ow'd his Nurture to the blue-ey'd Maid,
But from the teeming Furrow took his Birth,
The mighty Offspring of the foodful Earth.
Him
Pallas
plac'd amidst her wealthy Fane,
Ador'd with Sacrifice and Oxen slain;
Where as the Years revolve her Altars blaze,
And all the Tribes resound the Goddess' Praise.)
No Chief like thee,
Menestheus! Greece
could yield,
To martial Armies in the dusty Field,
Th' extended Wings of Battel to display,
Or close th' embody'd Host in firm Array.
Nestor
alone, improv'd by Length of Days,
For martial Conduct bore an equal Praise.
With these appear the
Salaminian
Bands,
Whom the Gigantic
Telamon
commands;
In twelve black Ships to
Troy
they steer their Course,
And with the great
Athenians
join their Force.
Next move to War the gen'rous
Argive
Train,
From high
Troezenè,
and
Maseta
's Plain,
And fair
Aegina
circled by the Main:
Whom strong
Tyrinthè
's lofty Walls surround,
And
Epidaure
with Viny Harvests crown'd:
And where fair
Asinen
and
Hermion
show
Their Cliffs above, and ample Bay below.
These by the brave
Euryalus
were led,
Great
Sthenelus,
and greater
Diomed,
But chief
Tydides
bore the Sov'reign Sway;
In fourscore Barks they plow the watry Way.
The proud
Mycoenè
arms her martial Pow'rs,
Cleonè, Corinth,
with Imperial Tow'rs,
Fair
Arethyrea, Ornia
's fruitful Plain,
And
Aegion,
and
Adrastus'
ancient Reign;
And those who dwell along the sandy Shore,
And where
Pellenè
yields her fleecy Store,
Where
Helicè
and
Hyperesia
lie,
And
Gonoëssa
's Spires salute the Sky.
Great
Agamemnon
rules the num'rous Band,
A hundred Vessels in long Order stand,
And crowded Nations wait his dread Command.
High on the Deck the King of Men appears,
And his refulgent Arms in Triumph wears;
Proud of his Host, unrival'd in his Reign,
In silent Pomp he moves along the Main.
His Brother follows, and to Vengeance warms
The hardy
Spartans,
exercis'd in Arms:
Phares
and
Brysia
's valiant Troops, and those
Whom
Lacedaemon
's lofty Hills inclose:
Or
Messè
's. Tow'rs for silver Doves renown'd,
Amyclae, Laäs, Augia
's happy Ground,
And those whom
Oetylos'
low Walls contain,
And
Helos,
on the Margin of the Main.
These, o'er the bending Ocean,
Helen
's Cause
In sixty Ships with
Menelaus
draws:
Eager and loud, from Man to Man he flies,
Revenge and Fury flaming in his Eyes;
While vainly fond, in Fancy oft he hears
The Fair one's Grief, and sees her falling Tears.
In ninety Sail, from
Pylos'
sandy Coast,
Nestor
the Sage conducts his chosen Host:
From
Amphigenia
's ever-fruitful Land;
Where
Aepy
high, and little
Pteleon
stand;
Where beauteous
Arenè
her Structures shows,
And
Thryon
's Walls
Alphëus'
Streams inclose:
And
Dorion,
fam'd for
Thamyris'
Disgrace,
Superior once of all the tuneful Race,
'Till vain of Mortal's empty Praise, he strove
To match the Seed of Cloud-compelling
Jove.
Too daring Bard! whose unsuccessful Pride
Th' Immortal
Muses
in their Art defy'd.
Th' avenging
Muses
of the Light of Day
Depriv'd his Eyes, and snatch'd his Voice away;
No more his heav'nly Voice was heard to sing;
His Hand no more awak'd the silver String.
Where under high
Cyllenè
crown'd with Wood,
The shaded Tomb of old
Aepytus
stood;
From
Ripè, Stratie, Tegea
's bord'ring Towns,
The
Phenean
Fields, and
Orchomenian
Downs,
Where the fat Herds in plenteous Pasture rove;
And
Stymphelus
with her surrounding Grove;
Parrhasia,
on her snowy Cliffs reclin'd,
And high
Enispè
shook by wintry Wind,
And fair
Mantinea
's ever-pleasing Site;
In sixty Sail th'
Arcadian
Bands unite.
Bold
Agapenor
glorious at their Head,
(
Ancoeus'
Son) the mighty Squadron led.
Their Ships, supply'd by
Agamemnon
's Care,
Thro' roaring Seas the wond'ring Warriors bear;
The first to battel on th' appointed Plain,
But new to all the Dangers of the Main.
Those, where fair
Elis
and
Buprasium
join;
Whom
Hyrmin,
here, and
Myrsinus
confine,
And bounded there, where o'er the Vallies rose
Th'
Olenian
Rock; and where
Alisium
flows;
Beneath four Chiefs (a num'rous Army) came:
The Strength and Glory of th'
Epean
Name.
In sep'rate Squadrons these their Train divide,
Each leads ten Vessels thro' the yielding Tide.
One was
Amphimachus,
and
Thalpius
one;
(
Eurytus'
this, and that
Teätus'
Son)
Diores
sprung from
Amarynceus'
Line;
And great
Polyxenus,
of Force divine.
But those who view fair
Elis
o'er the Seas
From the blest Islands of th'
Echinades,
In forty Vessels under
Meges
move,
Begot by
Phyleus,
the Belov'd of
Jove.
To strong
Dulichium
from his Sire he fled,
And thence to
Troy
his hardy Warriors led.
Ulysses
follow'd thro' the watry Road,
A Chief, in Wisdom equal to a God.
With those whom
Cephalenia
's Isle inclos'd,
Or till'd their Fields along the Coast oppos'd;
Or where fair
Ithaca
o'erlooks the Floods,
Where high
Neritos
shakes his waving Woods,
Where
Aegilipa
's rugged Sides are seen,
Crocylia
rocky, and
Zacynthus
green.
These in twelve Galleys with Vermillion Prores,
Beneath his Conduct sought the
Phrygian
Shores,
Thoas
came next,
Andraemon
's valiant Son,
From
Pleuron
's Walls and chalky
Calydon,
And rough
Pylenè,
and th'
Olenian
Steep,
And
Chalcis,
beaten by the rolling Deep.
He led the Warriors from th'
Aetolian
Shore,
For now the Sons of
Oeneus
were no more!
The Glories of the mighty Race were fled!
Oeneus
himself, and
Meleager
dead;
To
Thoas'
Care now trust the martial Train,
His forty Vessels follow thro' the Main.
Next eighty Barks the
Cretan
King commands,
Of
Gnossus, Lyctus,
and
Gortyna
's Bands,
And those who dwell where
Rhytion
's Domes arise,
Or white
Lycastus
glitters to the Skies,
Or where by
Phoestus
silver
Jardan
runs;
Crete
's hundred Cities pour forth all her Sons.
These march'd,
Idomeneus,
beneath thy Care,
And
Merion,
dreadful as the God of War.
Tlepolemus,
the Son of
Hercules,
Led nine swift Vessels thro' the foamy Seas;
From
Rhodes
with everlasting Sunshine bright,
Jalyssus, Lindus,
and
Camirus
white.
His captive Mother fierce
Alcides
bore
From
Ephyr
's Walls, and
Sellè
's winding Shore,
Where mighty Towns in Ruins spread the Plain,
And saw their blooming Warriors early slain.
The Hero, when to Manly Years he grew,
Alcides'
Uncle, old
Lycimnius,
slew;
For this, constrain'd to quit his native Place,
And shun the Vengeance of th'
Herculean
Race,
A Fleet he built, and with a num'rous Train
Of willing Exiles wander'd o'er the Main;
Where many Seas, and many Suff'rings past,
On happy
Rhodes
the Chief arriv'd at last:
There in three Tribes divides his native Band,
And rules them peaceful in a foreign Land:
Encreas'd and prosper'd in their new Abodes,
By mighty
Jove,
the Sire of Men and Gods;
With Joy they saw the growing Empire rise,
And Show'rs of Wealth descending from the Skies.
Three Ships with
Nireus
sought the
Trojan
Shore,
Nireus,
whom
Agläe
to
Charopus
bore,
Nireus,
in faultless Shape, and blooming Grace,
The loveliest Youth of all the
Grecian
Race;
Pelides
only match'd his early Charms;
But few his Troops, and small his Strength in Arms.
Next thirty Galleys cleave the liquid Plain,
Of those
Calydnoe
's Sea-girt Isles contain;
With them the Youth of
Nisyrus
repair,
Casus
the strong, and
Crapathus
the fair;
Cos,
where
Eurypylus
possest the Sway,
'Till great
Alcides
made the Realms obey:
These
Antiphus
and bold
Phidippus
bring,
Sprung from the God, by
Thessalus
the King.
Now Muse recount
Pelasgic Argos'
Pow'rs,
From
Alos, Alopè,
and
Trechin
's Tow'rs;
From
Pthia
's spacious Vales; and
Hella,
blest
With Female Beauty far beyond the rest.
Full fifty Ships beneath
Achilles'
Care
Th'
Achaians, Myrmidons, Helleneans
bear,
Thessalians
all, tho' various in their Name,
The same their Nation, and their Chief the same.
But now inglorious, stretch'd along the Shore,
They hear the brazen Voice of War no more;
No more the Foe they face in dire Array;
Close in his Fleet their angry Leader lay:
Since fair
Briseïs
from his Arms was torn,
The noblest Spoil from sack'd
Lyrnessus
born,
Then, when the Chief the
Theban
Walls o'erthrew,
And the bold Sons of great
Evenus
slew.
There mourn'd
Achilles,
plung'd in Depth of Care,
But soon to rise in Slaughter, Blood, and War.
To these the Youth of
Phylacè
succeed,
Itona,
famous for her fleecy Breed,
And grassy
Pteleon
deck'd with chearful Greens,
The Bow'rs of
Ceres,
and the Sylvan Scenes,
Sweet
Pyrrhasus,
with blooming Flourets crown'd,
And
Antron
's watry Dens and cavern'd Ground.
These own'd as Chief
Protesilas
the brave,
Who now lay silent in the gloomy Grave:
The first who boldly touch'd the
Trojan
Shore,
And dy'd a
Phrygian
Lance with
Grecian
Gore:
There lies, far distant from his native Plain;
Unfinish'd his proud Palaces remain,
And his sad Consort beats her Breast in vain.
His Troops in forty Ships
Podarces
led,
Iphiclus'
Son, and Brother to the Dead;
Nor he unworthy to command the Host;
Yet still they mourn'd their ancient Leader lost.
The Men who
Glaphyra
's fair Soil partake,
Where Hills encircle
Boebe
's lowly Lake,
Where
Pherae
hears the neighb'ring Waters fall,
Or proud
Iölcus
lifts her Airy Wall:
In ten black Ships embark'd for
Ilion
's Shore,
With bold
Eumelus,
whom
Alcestè
bore.
All
Pelias'
Race
Alcestè
far outshin'd,
The Grace and Glory of the beauteous Kind.
The Troops
Methonè,
or
Thaumacia
yields,
Olyzon
's Rocks, or
Moelibaea
's Fields,
With
Philoctetes
sail'd, whose matchless Art
From the tough Bow directs the feather'd Dart.
Sev'n were his Ships; each Vessel fifty row,
Skill'd in his Science of the Dart and Bow.
But he lay raging on the
Lemnian
Ground,
A pois'nous
Hydra
gave the burning Wound,
There groan'd the Chief in agonizing Pain;
Whom
Greece
at length shall wish, nor wish in vain.
His Forces
Medon
led from
Lemnos'
Shore,
Oïleus'
Son whom beauteous
Rhena
bore.
Th'
Oechalian
Race, in those high Tow'rs contain'd,
Where once
Eurytus
in proud Triumph reign'd,
Or where her humbler Turrets
Trica
rears,
Or where
Ithomè,
rough with Rocks, appears;
In thirty Sail the sparkling Waves divide,
Which
Podalirius
and
Machaon
guide.
To these his Skill their
Aesculapius.
Parent-God imparts,
Divine Professors of the Healing Arts.
The bold
Ormenian
and
Asterian
Bands
In forty Barks
Eurypilus
commands,
Where
Titan
hides his hoary Head in Snow,
And where
Hyperia
's silver Fountains flow.
Thy Troops,
Argissa, Polyphaetes
leads,
And
Eleon,
shelter'd by
Olympus'
Shades,
Girtonè
's Warriors; and where
Orthè
lies,
And
Oloösson
's chalky Cliffs arise.
Sprung from
Pirithoüs
of immortal Race,
The Fruit of fair
Hippodamè
's Embrace,
(That Day, when hurl'd from
Pelion
's cloudy Head,
To distant Dens the shaggy
Centaurs
fled)
With
Polypaetes
join'd in equal Sway
Leonteus
leads, and forty Ships obey.
In twenty Sail the bold
Perrhebians
came
From
Cyphus, Guneus
was their Leader's Name.
With these the
Aenians
join'd, and those who freeze
Where cold
Dodona
lifts her Holy Trees;
Or where the pleasing
Titaresius
glides,
And into
Peneus
rolls his easy Tides;
Yet o'er the silver Surface pure they flow,
The sacred Stream unmix'd with Streams below,
Sacred and awful! From the dark Abodes
Styx
pours them forth, the dreadful Oath of Gods!
Last under
Prothous
the
Magnesians
stood,
Prothous
the swift, of old
Tenthredon
's Blood;
Who dwell where
Pelion
crown'd with Piny Boughs
Obscures the Glade, and nods his shaggy Brows,
Or where thro' flow'ry
Tempè Peneus
stray'd,
(The Region stretch'd beneath his mighty Shade)
In forty sable Barks they stem'd the Main;
Such were the Chiefs, and such the
Grecian
Train.
Say next O Muse! of all
Achaïa
breeds,
Who bravest fought, or rein'd the noblest Steeds?
Eumelus'
Mares were foremost in the Chace,
As Eagles fleet, and of
Pheretian
Race;
Bred where
Pieria
's fruitful Fountains flow,
And train'd by Him who bears the Silver Bow.
Fierce in the Fight, their Nostrils breath'd a Flame,
Their Height, their Colour, and their Age the same;
O'er Fields of Death they whirl the rapid Car,
And break the Ranks, and thunder thro' the War.
Ajax
in Arms the first Renown acquir'd,
While stern
Achilles
in his Wrath retir'd:
(His was the Strength that mortal Might exceeds,
And his, th' unrival'd Race of Heav'nly Steeds)
But
Thetis'
Son now shines in Arms no more;
His Troops, neglected on the sandy Shore,
In empty Air their sportive Jav'lins throw,
Or whirl the Disk, or bend an idle Bow:
Unstain'd with Blood his cover'd Chariots stand;
Th' Immortal Coursers graze along the Strand;
But the brave Chiefs th' inglorious Life deplor'd,
And wand'ring o'er the Camp, requir'd their Lord
Now, like a Deluge, cov'ring all around,
The shining Armies swept along the Ground;
Swift as a Flood of Fire, when Storms arise,
Floats the wide Field, and blazes to the Skies.
Earth groan'd beneath them; as when angry
Jove
Hurls down the forky Light'ning from above,
On
Arimè
when he the Thunder throws,
And fires
Typhoeus
with redoubled Blows,
Where
Typhon,
prest beneath the burning Load,
Still feels the Fury of th' avenging God.
But various
Iris, Jove
's Commands to bear,
Speeds on the Wings of Winds thro' liquid Air;
In
Priam
's Porch the
Trojan
Chiefs she found,
The Old consulting, and the Youths around.
Polites'
Shape, the Monarch's Son, she chose,
Who from
Aesetes'
Tomb observ'd the Foes;
High on the Mound; from whence in Prospect lay
The Fields, the Tents, the Navy, and the Bay.
In this dissembled Form, she hasts to bring
Th' unwelcome Message to the
Phrygian
King.
Cease to consult, the Time for Action calls,
War, horrid War, approaches to your Walls!
Assembled Armies oft' have I beheld;
But ne'er 'till now such Numbers charg'd a Field.
Thick as Autumnal Leaves, or driving Sand,
The moving Squadrons blacken all the Strand.
Thou, Godlike
Hector!
all thy Force employ,
Assemble all th' united Bands of
Troy;
In just Array let ev'ry Leader call
The foreign Troops: This Day demands them all.
The Voice Divine the mighty Chief alarms;
The Council breaks, the Warriors rush to Arms.
The Gates unfolding pour forth all their Train,
Nations on Nations fill the dusky Plain,
Men, Steeds, and Chariots shake the trembling Ground;
The Tumult thickens, and the Skies resound.
Amidst the Plain in sight of
Ilion
stands
A rising Mount the Work of human Hands,
(This for
Myrinnè
's Tomb th' Immortals know,
Tho' call'd
Bateïa
in the World below)
Beneath their Chiefs in martial Order here,
Th' Auxiliar Troops and
Trojan
Hosts appear.
The Godlike
Hector,
high above the rest,
Shakes his huge Spear, and nods his Plumy Crest:
In Throngs around his native Bands repair,
And Groves of Lances glitter in the Air.
Divine
Aenëas
brings the
Dardan
Race,
Anchises'
Son, by
Venus'
stol'n Embrace,
Born in the Shades of
Ida
's secret Grove,
(A Mortal mixing with the Queen of Love)
Archilochus
and
Achamas
divide
The Warrior's Toils, and combate by his side.
Who fair
Zeleia
's wealthy Vallies till,
Fast by the Foot of
Ida
's sacred Hill:
Or drink,
Aesepus,
of thy sable Flood;
Were led by
Pandarus,
of Royal Blood.
To whom his Art
Apollo
deign'd to show,
Grac'd with the Present of his Shafts and Bow.
From rich
Apaesus
and
Adrestia
's Tow'rs,
High
Teree
's Summits, and
Pityea
's Bow'rs;
From these the congregated Troops obey
Young
Amphius
and
Adrastus'
equal Sway;
Old
Merops
Sons; whom skill'd in Fate to come
The Sire forewarn'd, and prophecy'd their Doom:
Fate urg'd them on! the Sire forewarn'd in vain,
They rush'd to War, and perish'd on the Plain.
From
Practius'
Stream,
Percotè
's Pasture Lands,
And
Sestos
and
Abydos'
neighb'ring Strands,
From great
Arisba
's Walls and
Sellè
's Coast,
Asius Hyrtacides
conducts his Host:
High on his Car he shakes the flowing Reins,
His fiery Coursers thunder o'er the Plains.
The fierce
Pelasgi
next, in War renown'd,
March from
Larissa
's ever-fertile Ground:
In equal Arms their Brother-Leaders shine,
Hippothous
bold, and
Pyleus
the Divine.
Next
Acamas
and
Pyrous
lead their Hosts
In dread Array, from
Thracia
's wintry Coasts;
Round the bleak Realms where
Hellespontus
roars,
And
Boreas
beats the hoarse-resounding Shores.
With great
Euphemus
the
Ciconians
move,
Sprung from
Trezenian Ceus,
lov'd by
Jove.
Pyrechmes
the
Poeonian
Troops attend,
Skill'd in the Fight their crooked Bows to bend;
From
Axius'
ample Bed he leads them on,
Axius,
that laves the distant
Amydon,
Axius,
that swells with all his neighb'ring Rills,
And wide around the floated Region fills.
The
Paphlagonians Pylaemenes
rules,
Where rich
Henetia
breeds her savage Mules,
Where
Erythinus'
rising Clifts are seen,
Thy Groves of Box,
Cytorus!
ever green;
And where
Aegyalus
and
Cromna
lie,
And lofty
Sesamus
invades the Sky;
And where
Parthenius,
roll'd thro' Banks of Flow'rs,
Reflects her bord'ring Palaces and Bow'rs.
Here march'd in Arms the
Halizonian
Band,
Whom
Odius
and
Epistrophus
command,
From those far Regions where the Sun refines
The ripening Silver in
Alybean
Mines.
There, mighty
Chromis
led the
Mysian
Train,
And Augur
Ennomus,
inspir'd in vain,
For stern
Achilles
lopt his sacred Head,
Roll'd down
Scamander
with the Vulgar Dead.
Phorcys
and brave
Ascanius
here unite
Th'
Ascanian Phrygians,
eager for the Fight.
Of those who round
Moeonia
's Realms reside,
Or whom the Vales in Shade of
Tmolus
hide,
Mestles
and
Antiphus
the Charge partake;
Born on the Banks of
Gyges'
silent Lake.
There, from the Fields where wild
Maeander
flows,
High
Mycalè,
and
Latmos'
shady Brows,
And proud
Miletus,
came the
Carian
Throngs,
With mingled Clamors, and with barb'rous Tongues.
Amphimachus
and
Naustes
guide the Train,
Naustes
the bold,
Amphimachus
the vain,
Who trick'd with Gold, and glitt'ring on his Car,
Rode like a Woman to the Field of War.
Fool that he was! by fierce
Achilles
slain,
The River swept him to the briny Main:
There whelm'd with Waves the gawdy Warrior lies;
The valiant Victor seiz'd the golden Prize.
The Forces last in fair Array succeed,
Which blameless
Glaucus
and
Sarpedon
lead;
The warlike Bands that distant
Lycia
yields,
Where gulphy
Xanthus
foams along the Fields.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE Second Book.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE SECOND BOOK.
I.
VERSE 1.
NOW pleasing Sleep,
&c.]
Aristotle
tells us in the twenty sixth Chapter of his Art of Poetry, that this Place had been objected to by some Criticks in those Times. They thought it gave a very ill Idea of the military Discipline of the
Greeks,
to represent a whole Army unguarded, and all the Leaders a-sleep: They also pretended it was ridiculous to describe all the Gods sleeping besides
Jupiter.
To both these
Aristotle
answers, that nothing is more usual or allowable than that Figure which puts
All
for the
greater Part.
One may add with respect to the latter Criticism, that nothing could give a better Image of the Superiority of
Jupiter
to the other Gods (or of the supreme Being to all second Causes) than the Vigilancy here ascrib'd to him, over all Things Divine and Human.
II.
VERSE 9.
Fly hence, deluding Dream.
]
It appears from
Aristotle, Poet. cap.
26. that
Homer
was accus'd of Impiety, for making
Jupiter
the Author of a Lye in this Passage. It seems there were anciently these Words in his Speech to the Dream;
,
Let us give him great Glory.
(Instead of which we have in the present Copies,
) but
Hippias
found a way to bring off
Homer,
only by placing the Accent on the last Syllable but one,
, for
, the Infinitive for the Imperative: which amounts to no more than that he bade the Dream to
Promise
him great Glory. But
Macrobius de somnio Scip. l.
1.
c.
7. takes off this Imputation entirely, and will not allow there was any Lye in the Case.
"
Agamemnon
(says he) was order'd by the Dream to lead out
All
the Forces of the
Greeks
(
is the word) and promis'd the Victory on that Condition: Now
Achilles
and his Forces not being summon'd to the Assembly with the rest, that Neglect absolv'd
Jupiter
from his Promise."
This Remark Madam
Dacier
has inserted without mentioning its Author. Mr.
Dacier
takes notice of a Passage in the Scripture exactly parallel to this, where God is represented making use of the Malignity of his Creatures to accomplish his Judgments. 'Tis in 2
Chron..
ch. 18. ℣. 19, 20, 21.
And the Lord said, Who will persuade
Ahab,
that he may go up and fall at
Ramoth Gilead?
And there came forth a Spirit, and stood before the Lord, and said, I will persuade him. And the Lord said unto him, Wherewith? And he said, I will go forth, and I will be a lying Spirit in the Mouth of all his Prophets, And he said, Thou shalt persuade him and prevail also: Go forth and do so.
Vide
Dacier
upon
Aristotle,
cap. 26.
III.
VERSE 20.
Descends and hovers o'er
Atrides'
Head.
]
The whole Action of the
Dream
is beautifully natural, and agreeable to Philosophy. It perches on his Head, to intimate that Part to be the Seat of the Soul: It is circumfused about him, to express that total Possession of the Senses which Fancy has during our Sleeps. It takes the Figure of the Person who was dearest to
Agamemnon;
as whatever we think of most when awake, is the common Object of our Dreams. And just at the Instant of its vanishing, it leaves such an Impression that the Voice seems still to sound in his Ear. No Description can be more exact or lively.
Eustathius, Dacier.
IV.
VERSE 33.
Draw forth th' embattel'd Train,
&c.]
The Dream here repeats the Message of
Jupiter
in the same Terms that he receiv'd it. It is no less than the Father of Gods and Men who gives the Order, and to alter a word were Presumption.
Homer
constantly makes his Envoys observe this Practice as a Mark of Decency and respect. Madam
Dacier
and others have applauded this in general, and ask'd by what Authority an Embassador could alter the Terms of his Commission, since he is not greater or wiser than the Person who gave the Charge? But this is not always the Case in our Author, who not only makes use of this Conduct with respect to the Orders of a higher Power, but in regard to Equals also; as when one Goddess desires another to represent such an Affair, and she immediately takes the Words from her Mouth and repeats them, of which we have an Instance in this Book. Some Objection too may be rais'd to this manner, when Commissions are given in the utmost haste (in a Battel or the like) upon sudden Emergencies; where it seems not very natural to suppose a Man has time to get so many Words by heart as he is made to repeat exactly. In the present Instance, the Repetition is certainly graceful, tho'
Zenodotus
thought it not so the third time, when
Agamemnon
tells his Dream to the Council. I do not pretend to decide upon the Point: For tho' the Reverence of the Repetition seem'd less needful in that Place than when it was deliver'd immediately from
Jupiter;
yet (as
Eustathius
observes) it was necessary for the Assembly to know the Circumstances of this Dream, that the Truth of the Relation might be unsuspected.
V.
VERSE 93.
Now valiant Chiefs,
&c.]
The best Commentary extant upon the first Part of this Book is in
Dionysius
of
Halicarnassus,
who has given us an admirable Explication of this whole Conduct of
Agamemnon
in his second Treatise
. He says,
"This Prince had nothing so much at Heart as to draw the
Greeks
to a Battel, yet knew not how to proceed without
Achilles,
who had just retir'd from the Army; and was apprehensive that the
Greeks
who were displeas'd at the Departure of
Achilles,
might refuse Obedience to his Orders, should he absolutely command it. In this Circumstance he proposes to the Princes in Council to make a Tryal of arming the
Graecians,
and offers an Expedient himself; which was that he should sound their Dispositions by exhorting him to set sail for
Greece,
but that then the other Princes should be ready to dissuade and detain them. If any object to this Stratagem that
Agamemnon
's whole Scheme would be ruin'd if the Army should take him at his word (which was very probable) it is to be answer'd, that his Design lay deeper than they imagine, nor did he depend upon his Speech only for detaining them. He had some Cause to fear the
Greeks
had a Pique against him which they had conceal'd, and whatever it was, he judg'd it absolutely necessary to know it before he proceeded to a Battel. He therefore furnishes them with an Occasion to manifest it, and at the same time provides against any ill Effects it might have by his secret Orders to the Princes. It succeeds accordingly, and when the Troops are running to embark, they are stop'd by
Ulysses
and
Nestor.
"
—One may farther observe that this whole Stratagem is concerted in
Nestor
's Ship, as one whose Wisdom and Secrecy was most confided in. The Story of the Vision's appearing in his Shape, could not but engage him in some degree: It look'd as if
Jupiter
himself added Weight to his Counsels by making use of that venerable Appearance, and knew this to be the most powerful Method of recommending them to
Agamemnon.
It was therefore but natural for
Nestor
to second the Motion of the King, and by the help of his Authority it prevail'd on the other Princes.
VI.
VERSE 111.
As from some rocky Cleft.
]
This is the first Simile in
Homer,
and we may observe in general that he excels all Mankind in the Number, Variety, and Beauty of his Comparisons. There are scarce any in
Virgil
which are not translated from him, and therefore when he succeeds best in them he is to be commended but as an Improver.
Scaliger
seems not to have thought of this when he compares the Similes of these two Authors (as indeed they are the Places most obvious to Comparison.) The present Passage is an Instance of it, to which he opposes the following Verses in the first
Aeneid.
Qualis apes aestate novâ per florea rura
Exercet sub sole labor, cum gentis adultos
Educunt foetus, aut cum liquentia mella
Stipant, & dulci distendunt nectare cellas:
Aut onera accipiunt venientum, aut agmine facto
Ignavum fucos pecus à praesepibus arcent;
Fervet opus, redolentque thymo fragrantia mella.
This he very much prefers to
Homer
's, and in particular extols the Harmony and Sweetness of the Versification above that of our Author; against which Censure we need only appeal to the Ears of the Reader.
&c.
But
Scaliger
was unlucky in his Choice of this particular Comparison: There is a very fine one in the sixth
Aeneid,
℣. 707. that better agrees with
Homer
's: And nothing is more evident than that the design of these two is very different:
Homer
intended to describe the
Multitude
of
Greeks
pouring out of the Ships,
Virgil
the
Diligence
and
Labour
of the Builders at
Carthage.
And
Macrobius
who observes this difference
Sat. l.
5.
c.
11. should also have found, that therefore the Similes ought not to be compar'd together. The Beauty of
Homer
's is not inferior to
Virgil
's, if we consider with what Exactness it answers to its end. It consists of three Particulars; the vast Number of the Troops is exprest in the Swarms, their tumultuous manner of issuing out of the Ships, and the perpetual Egression which seem'd without end, are imaged in the Bees pouring out of the Rock; and lastly their Dispersion over all the Shore, in their descending on the Flowers in the Vales.
Spondanus
was therefore mistaken when he thought the whole Application of this Comparison lay in the single word
,
catervatim,
as
Chapman
has justly observ'd.
VII.
VERSE 121.
Fame flies before.
]
This assembling of the Army is full of Beauties: The lively Description of their overspreading the Field, the noble Boldness of the Figure when Fame is represented in Person shining at their Head, the universal Tumult succeeded by a solemn Silence; and lastly the graceful rising of
Agamemnon,
all contribute to cast a Majesty on this Part. In the Passage of the
Sceptre, Homer
has found an artful and poetical manner of acquainting us with the high Descent of
Agamemnon,
and celebrating the hereditary Right of his Family; as well as finely hinted the Original of his Power to be deriv'd from Heaven, in saying the Sceptre was first the Gift of
Jupiter.
It is with reference to this that in the Line where he first mentions it, he calls it
, and accordingly it is translated in that Place.
VIII.
VERSE 138.
And artful thus pronounc'd the Speech design'd.
]
The Remarks of
Dionysius
upon this Speech I shall give the Reader altogether, tho' they lie scatter'd in his two Discourses
, the second of which is in a great Degree but a Repetition of the Precepts and Examples of the first. This happen'd, I believe, from his having compos'd them at distinct Times and upon different Occasions.
"It is an exquisite Piece of Art, when you seem to aim at persuading one thing, and at the same time inforce the contrary. This kind of Rhetorick is of great use in all Occasions of Danger, and is what
Homer
has afforded a most powerful Example of in the Oration of
Agamemnon.
'Tis a Method perfectly wonderful, and even carries in it an Appearance of Absurdity; for all that we generally esteem the Faults of Oratory, by this means become the Virtues of it. Nothing is look'd upon as a greater Error in a Rhetorician than to alledge such Arguments as either are easily answer'd, or may be retorted upon himself, the former is a weak Part, the latter a dangerous one; and
Agamemnon
here designedly deals in both. For it is plain that if a Man must not use weak Arguments, or such as may make against him, when he intends to persuade the Thing he says; then on the other side, when he does not intend it; he must observe the contrary Proceeding, and make what are the Faults of Oratory in general, the Excellencies of that Oration in particular, or otherwise he will contradict his own Intention and perssuade the contrary to what he means.
Agamemnon
begins with an Argument easily answer'd, by telling them that
Jupiter had promis'd to crown their Arms with Victory.
For if
Jupiter
had promis'd this, it was a reason for the Stay in the Camp.
But now
(says he)
Jove has deceiv'd us, and we must return with Ignominy.
This is another of the same kind, for it shews what a Disgrace it is to return. What follows is of the second sort and may be turn'd against him.
Jove will have it so:
For which they have only
Agamemnon
's Word, but
Jove
's own Promise for the contrary.
That God has overthrown many Cities, and will yet overturn many others.
This was a strong Reafon to stay, and put their Confidence in him.
It is shameful to have it told to all Posterity that so many thousand
Greeks,
after a War of so long Continuance, at last return'd home baffled and unsuccessful.
All this might have been said by a profest Adversary to the Cause he pleads, and indeed is the same thing
Ulysses
says elsewhere in Reproach of their Flight. The Conclusion evidently shews the Intent of the Speaker.
Haste then, let us fly;
, the Word which of all others was most likely to prevail upon them to stay; the most open Term of Disgrace he could possibly have us'd: 'Tis the same which
Juno
makes use of to
Minerva, Minerva
to
Ulysses,
and
Ulysses
again to the Troops, to dissuade their Return; the same which
Agamemnon
himself had used to insult
Achilles,
and which
Homer
never employs but with the Mark of Cowardice and Infamy."
The same Author farther observes,
"That this whole Oration has the Air of being spoken in a Passion. It begins with a Stroke of the greatest Rashness and Impatience. Jupiter
has been unjust, Heaven has deceiv'd us.
This renders all he shall say of the less Authority, at the same time that it conceals his own Artifice; for his Anger seems to account for the Incongruities he utters."
I could not suppress so fine a Remark, tho' it falls out of the Order of those which precede it.
Before I leave this Article, I must take notice that this Speech of
Agamemnon
is again put into his Mouth in the ninth
Iliad,
and (according to
Dionysius
) for the same Purpose, to detain the Army at the Siege after a Defeat; tho' it seems unartful to put the same Trick twice upon the
Greeks
by the same Person, and in the same Words too. We may indeed suppose the first Feint to have remain'd undiscover'd, but at best it is a Management in the Poet not very entertaining to the Readers.
IX.
VERSE 155.
So small their Number,
&c.]
This Part has a low Air in Comparison with the rest of the Speech.
Scaliger
calls it
Tabernariam Orationem:
But it is well observ'd by Madam
Dacier,
that the Image
Agamemnon
here gives of the
Trojans,
does not only render their Numbers contemptible in Comparison of the
Greeks,
but their Persons too. For it makes them appear but as a few vile Slaves fit only to serve them with Wine: To which we may add that it affords a Prospect to his Soldiers of their future State and Triumph after the Conquest of their Enemies.
This Passage gives me occasion to animadvert upon a Computation of the Number of the
Trojans,
which the learned
Angelus Politian
has offer'd at in his
Preface to
Homer. He thinks they were fifty thousand without the Auxiliaries, from the Conclusion of the eighth
Iliad,
where it is said there were a thousand funeral Piles of
Trojans,
and fifty Men attending each of them. But that the Auxiliaries are to be admitted into that Number appears plainly from this Place:
Agamemnon
expresly distinguishes the native
Trojans
from the Aids, and reckons but one to ten
Graecians,
at which Estimate there could not be above ten thousand
Trojans. See the Notes on the Catalogue.
X.
VERSE 163.
—Decay'd our Vessels lie,
And scarce ensure the wretched Power to fly.
This, and some other Passages, are here translated correspondent to the general Air and Sense of this Speech, rather than just to the Letter. The telling them in this Place how much their Shipping was decay'd, was a Hint of their Danger in returning, as Madam
Dacier
has remark'd.
XI.
VERSE 175.
So roll the Billows,
&c.]
One may take notice that
Homer
in these two Similitudes has judiciously made choice of the two most wavering and inconstant Things in Nature, to compare with the Multitude; the
Waves,
and
Ears
of
Corn.
The first alludes to the Noise and Tumult of the People, in the breaking and rolling of the Billows; the second to their taking the same Course, like Corn bending one way; and both to the Easiness with which they are mov'd by every
Breath.
XII.
VERSE 243.
To one sole Monarch.
]
Those Persons are under a Mistake who would make this Sentence a Praise of Absolute Monarchy.
Homer
speaks it only with regard to a General of an Army during the time of his Commission. Nor is
Agamemnon
styl'd
King of Kings
in any other Sense, than as the rest of the Princes had given him the supreme Authority over them in the Siege.
Aristotle
defines a King,
;
Leader of the War, Judge of Controversies,
and
President of the Ceremonies of the Gods.
That he had the principal Care of religious Rites appears from many Places in
Homer;
and that his Power was no where absolute but in War: for we find
Agamemnon
insulted in the Council, but in the Army threatning Deserters with Death. He was under an Obligation to preserve the Privileges of his Country, pursuant to which Kings are called by our Author
, and
, the Dispensers or Managers of Justice. And
Dionysius
of
Halicarnassus
acquaints us, that the old
Graecian
Kings, whether Hereditary or Elective, had a Council of their chief Men, as
Homer
and the most ancient Poets testify; nor was it (he adds) in those Times as in ours, when Kings have a full Liberty to do whatever they please.
Dion. Hal. lib.
2.
Hist.
XIII.
VERSE 255. Thersites
only.
]
The Ancients have ascrib'd to
Homer
the first Sketch of
Satyric
or
Comic
Poetry, of which sort was his Poem call'd
Margites,
as
Aristotle
reports. Tho' that Piece be lost, this Character of
Thersites
may give us a Taste of his Vein in that kind. But whether ludicrous Descriptions ought to have Place in the
Epic
Poem, has been justly question'd: Neither
Virgil
nor any of the most approv'd Ancients have thought fit to admit them into their Compositions of that Nature; nor any of the best Moderns except
Milton,
whose Fondness for
Homer
might be the reason of it. However this is in its kind a very masterly Part, and our Author has shewn great Judgment in the Particulars he has chosen to compose the Picture of a pernicious Creature of Wit; the chief of which are a Desire of promoting Laughter at any rate, and a Contempt of his Superiors. And he sums up the whole very strongly, by saying that
Thersites
hated
Achilles
and
Ulysses;
in which, as
Plutarch
has remark'd in his Treatise of Envy and Hatred, he makes it the utmost Completion of an ill Character to bear a Malevolence to the best Men. What is farther observable is, that
Thersites
is never heard of after this his first Appearance: Such a scandalous Character is to be taken no more notice of, than just to shew that 'tis despised.
Homer
has observ'd the same Conduct with regard to the most
deform'd
and most
beautiful
Person of his Poem: For
Nireus
is thus mention'd once and no more throughout the
Ilaid.
He places a worthless
Beauty
and an ill-natur'd
Wit
upon the same Foot, and shews that the Gifts of the Body without those of the Mind are not more despicable, than those of the Mind itself without Virtue.
XIV.
VERSE 275.
Amidst the Glories.
]
'Tis remark'd by
Dionysius Halicar.
in his Treatise of the
Examination of Writers;
that there could not be a better Artifice thought on to recal the Army to their Obedience, than this of our Author. When they were offended at their General in favour of
Achilles,
nothing could more weaken
Achilles
's Interest than to make such a Fellow as
Thersites
appear of his Party, whose Impertinence would give them a Disgust of thinking or acting like him. There is no surer Method to reduce generous Spirits, than to make them see they are pursuing the same Views with People of no Merit, and such whom they cannot forbear despising themselves. Otherwise there is nothing in this Speech but what might become the Mouth of
Nestor
himself, if you except a word or two. And had
Nestor
spoken it, the Army had certainly set sail for
Greece;
but because it was utter'd by a ridiculous Fellow whom they are asham'd to follow, they are reduc'd, and satisfy'd to continue the Siege.
XV.
VERSE 284.
The
Greeks
and I.
]
These Boasts of himself are the few Words which
Dionysius
objects to in the foregoing Passage. I cannot but think the grave Commentators here very much mistaken, who imagine
Thersites
in earnest in these Vaunts, and seriously reprove his Insolence. They seem to me manifest Strokes of Irony, which had render'd them so much the more improper in the Mouth of
Nestor,
who was otherwise none of the least Boasters himself. And consider'd as such they are equal to the rest of the Speech, which has an infinite deal of Spirit, Humour, and Satyr.
XVI.
VERSE 326.
He said, and cow'ring.
]
The vile Figure
Thersites
makes here is a good Piece of
Grotesque;
the Pleasure express'd by the Soldiers at this Action of
Ulysses
(notwithstanding they are disappointed by him of their Hopes of returning) is agreeable to that generous Temper, at once honest and thoughtless, which is commonly found in military Men; to whom nothing is so odious as a Dastard, and who have not naturally the greatest Kindness for a Wit.
XVII.
VERSE 348.
Unhappy Monarch!
&c.]
Quintilian
speaking of the various Kinds of Oratory which may be learn'd from
Homer,
mentions among the greatest Instances the Speeches in this Book.
Nonne vel unus liber quo missa ad Achillem legatio continetur, vel in primo inter duces illa contentio, vel dictae in secundo sententiae, omnes litium ac consiliorum explicat artes? Affectus quidem vel illos mites, vel hos concitatos, nemo erit tam indoctus, qui non suâ in potestate hunc autorem habuisse fateatur.
It is indeed hardly possible to find any where more refin'd Turns of Policy, or more artful Touches of Oratory. We have no sooner seen
Agamemnon
excel in one sort, but
Ulysses
is to shine no less in another directly opposite to it. When the Stratagem of pretending to set sail, had met with too ready a Consent from the People, his Eloquence appears in all the Forms of Art. In his first Speech he had persuaded the Captains with Mildness, telling them the People's Glory depended upon them, and readily giving a Turn to the first Design, which had like to have been so dangerous, by representing it only as a Project of
Agamemnon
to discover the cowardly. In his second, he had commanded the Soldiers with Bravery, and made them know what Part they sustain'd in the War. In his third, he had rebuk'd the Seditious in the Person of
Thersites,
by Reproofs, Threats, and actual Chastisements. And now in this fourth, when all are gather'd he applies to them in Topics which equally affect them all: He raises their Hearts by putting them in mind of the Promises of Heaven, and those Prophecies of which as they had seen the Truth in the nine Years Delay, they might now expect the Accomplishment in the tenth Year's Success: which is a full Answer to what
Agamemnon
had said of
Jupiter
's deceiving them.
Dionysius
observes one singular Piece of Art, in
Ulysses
's manner of applying himself to the People when he would insinuate any thing to the Princes, and addressing to the Princes when he would blame the People. He tells the Soldiers, they must not all pretend to be Rulers there, let there be one King, one Lord; which is manifestly a Precept design'd for the Leaders to take to themselves. In the same manner
Tiberius Rhetor
remarks the beginning of his last Oration to be a fine
Ethopopeia
or oblique Representation of the People, upon whom the Severity of the Reproach is made to fall, while he seems to render the King an Object of their Pity.
Unhappy Monarch! whom the
Graecian
Race
With Shame deserting,
&c.
XVIII.
VERSE 402.
Then
Nestor
thus.
]
Nothing is more observable than
Homer
's Conduct of this whole Incident; by what judicious and well-imagined Degrees the Army is restrain'd, and wrought up to the Desires of the General. We have given the Detail of all the Methods
Ulysses
proceeded in: The Activity of his Character is now to be contrasted with the Gravity of
Nestor
's, who covers and strengthens the other's Arguments, and constantly appears thro' the Poem a weighty Closer of Debates. The
Greeks
had already seen their General give way to his Authority, in the Dispute with
Achilles
in the former Book, and could expect no less than that their Stay should be concluded on by
Agamemnon
as soon as
Nestor
undertook that Cause. For this was all they imagin'd his Discourse aim'd at; but we shall find it had a farther Design, from
Dionysius
of
Halicarnassus.
"There are two things (says that excellent Critick) worthy of Admiration in the Speeches of
Ulysses
and
Nestor,
which are the different Designs they speak with, and the different Applauses they receive.
Ulysses
has the Acclamations of the Army, and
Nestor
the Praise of
Agamemnon.
One may enquire the Reason, why he extols the latter preferably to the former, when all that
Nestor
alledges seems only a Repetition of the same Arguments which
Ulysses
had given before him? It might be done in Encouragement to the old Man, in whom it might raise a Concern to find his Speech not follow'd with so general an Applause as the other's. But we are to refer the Speech of
Nestor
to that Part of Oratory which seems only to confirm what another has said, and yet superinduces and carries a farther Point.
Ulysses
and
Nestor
both compare the
Greeks
to Children for their unmanly Desire to return home; they both reproach them with the Engagements and Vows they had past, and were now about to break; they both alledge the prosperous Signs and Omens receiv'd from Heaven. Notwithstanding this, the End of their Orations is very different.
Ulysses
's Business was to detain the
Graecians
when they were upon the Point of flying;
Nestor
finding that Work done to his Hands, design'd to draw them instantly to Battel. This was the utmost
Agamemnon
had aim'd at, which
Nestor
's Artifice brings to pass; for while they imagine by all he says that he is only persuading them to stay, they find themselves unawares put into Order of Battel, and led under their Princes to fight."
Dion. Hal.
,
Part
1
and
2.
We may next take notice of some Particulars of this Speech: Where he says they lose their time in
empty Words,
he hints at the Dispute between
Agamemnon
and
Achilles:
Where he speaks of those who
deserted the
Graecian
Cause,
he glances at
Achilles
in particular. When he represents
Helen
in Affliction and Tears, he removes the Odium from the Person in whose Cause they were to fight; and when he moves
Agamemnon
to advise with his Council, artfully prepares for a Reception of his own Advice by that modest way of proposing it. As for the Advice itself, to divide the Army into Bodies, each of which should be compos'd entirely of Men of the same Country; nothing could be better judg'd both in regard to the present Circumstance, and with an Eye to the future carrying on of the War. For the first, its immediate Effect was to take the whole Army out of its Tumult, break whatever Cabals they might have form'd together by separating them into a new Division, and cause every single Mutineer to come instantly under the View of his own proper Officer for Correction. For the second, it was to be thought the Army would be much strengthen'd by this Union: Those of different Nations who had different Aims, Interests and Friendships, could not assist each other with so much Zeal or so well concur to the same End, as when Friends aided Friends, Kinsmen their Kinsmen,
&c.
when each Commander had the Glory of his own Nation in view, and a greater Emulation was excited between Body and Body; as not only warring for the Honour of
Greece
in general, but for that of every distinct
State
in particular.
XIX.
VERSE 440.
How much thy Years excel.
]
Every one has observ'd how glorious an Elogium of Wisdom
Homer
has here given, where
Agamemnon
so far prefers it to Valour, as to wish not for ten
Ajax's
or
Achilles's
but only for ten
Nestors.
For the rest of this Speech,
Dionysius
has summ'd it up as follows.
"
Agamemnon
being now convinc'd the
Greeks
were offended at him on account of the Departure of
Achilles,
pacifies them by a generous Confession of his Fault, but then asserts the Character of a supreme Ruler, and with the Air of Command threatens the Disobedient."
I cannot conclude this Part of the Speeches without remarking how beautifully they rise above one another, and how they more and more awaken the Spirit of War in the
Graecians.
In this last there is a wonderful Fire and Vivacity, when he prepares them for the glorious Toils they were to undergo by a warm and lively Description of them. The Repetition of the Words in that Part has a Beauty, which (as well as many others of the same kind) has been lost by most Translators.
—
I cannot but believe
Milton
had this Passage in his Eye in that of his sixth Book.
—Let each
His Adamantine Coat gird well; and each
Fit well his Helm, gripe fast his orbed Shield,
&c.
XX.
VERSE 485.
And
Menelaus
came unbid.
]
The Criticks have enter'd into a warm Dispute, whether
Menelaus
was in the right or in the wrong, in coming uninvited: Some maintaining it the Part of an Impertinent or a Fool to intrude upon another Man's Table; and others insisting upon the Privilege a Brother or a Kinsman may claim in this Case. The
English
Reader had not been troubled with the Translation of this Word
, but that
Plato
and
Plutarch
have taken notice of the Passage. The Verse following this in most Editions,
, &c. being rejected as spurious by
Demetrius Phalereus,
is omitted here upon his Authority.
XXI.
VERSE 526.
The dreadful
Aegis, Jove
's immortal Shield.
]
Homer does not expresly call it a Shield in this Place, but he does in the fifth
Iliad,
where this
Aegis
is describ'd with a Sublimity that is inexpressible. The Figure of the
Gorgon
's Head upon it is there specify'd, which will justify the mention of the Serpents in the Translation here: The Verses are remarkably sonorous in the Original. The Image of the Goddess of Battels blazing with her immortal Shield before the Army, inspiring every Heroe, and assisting to range the Troops, is agreeable to the bold Painting of our Author. And the Encouragement of a divine Power seem'd no more than was requisite to change so totally the Dispositions of the
Graecians,
as to make them now more ardent for the Combate than they were before desirous of a Return. This finishes the Conquest of their Inclinations, in a manner at once wonderfully Poetical, and correspondent to the Moral which is every where spread through
Homer,
that nothing is entirely brought about but by the divine Assistance.
XXII.
VERSE 534.
As on some Mountain,
&c.]
The Imagination of
Homer
was so vast and so lively, that whatsoever Objects presented themselves before him impress'd their Images so forcibly, that he pour'd them forth in Comparisons equally simple and noble; without forgetting any Circumstance which could instruct the Reader, and make him see those Objects in the same strong Light wherein he saw them himself. And in this one of the principal Beauties of Poetry consists.
Homer,
on the sight of the March of this numerous Army, gives us five Similes in a Breath, but all entirely different. The first regards the Splendor of their Armour, As a Fire,
&c.
The second the various Movements of so many thousands before they can range themselves in Battel-Array, Like the Swans,
&c.
The third respects their Number, As the Leaves or Flowers,
&c.
The fourth the Ardour with which they run to the Combate, Like the Legions of Insects,
&c.
And the fifth the Obedience and exact Discipline of the Troops, ranged without Confusion under their Leaders, As Flocks under their Shepherds. This Fecundity and Variety can never be enough admired.
Dacier.
XXIII.
VERSE 545.
Or milk white Swans on
Asius'
watry Plains.
]
Scaliger, who is seldom just to our Author, yet confesses these Verses to be
plenissima Nectaris.
But he is greatly mistaken when he accuses this Simile of Impropriety, on the Supposition that a Number of Birds flying without Order are here compar'd to an Army ranged in Array of Battel. On the contrary,
Homer
in this expresses the Stir and Tumult the Troops were in, before they got into Order, running together from the Ships and Tents:
. But when they are plac'd in their Ranks, he compares them to the Flocks under their Shepherds. This Distinction will plainly appear from the Detail of the five Similes in the foregoing Note.
Virgil
has imitated this with great Happiness in his seventh
Aeneid.
Ceu quondam nivei liquida inter nubila cycni
Cum sese è pastu referunt, & longa canoros
Dant per colla modos, sonat amnis & Asia longè
Pulsa palus—.
Like a long Team of snowy Swans on high,
Which clap their Wings and cleave the liquid Sky,
When homeward from their watry Pastures born,
They sing, and
Asia
's Lakes their Notes return.
Mr.
Dryden
in this Place has mistaken
Asius
for
Asia,
which
Virgil
took care to distinguish by making the first Syllable of
Asius
long, as of
Asia
short. Tho' (if we believe Madam
Dacier
) he was himself in an Error, both here and in the first
Georgic.
—Quae Asia circum
Dulcibus in stagnis rimantur prata Caystri.
For she will not allow that
can be a Patronymic Adjective, but the Genitive of a proper Name,
, which being turn'd into
Ionic
is
, and by a
Syncope
makes
. This puts me in mind of another Criticism upon the 290th Verse of this Book: 'Tis observ'd that
Virgil
uses
Inarime
for
Arime,
as if he had read
, instead of
.
Scaliger
ridicules this trivial Remark, and asks if it can be imagin'd that
Virgil
was ignorant of the Name of a Place so near him as
Baiae?
It is indeed unlucky for good Writers, that Men who have Learning should lay a Stress upon such Trifles, and that those who have none should think it Learning to do so.
XXIV.
VERSE 552.
Or thick as Insects play.
]
This Simile translated literally runs thus;
As the numerous Troops of Flies about a Shepherd's Cottage in the Spring, when the Milk moistens the Pails; such Numbers of
Greeks
stood in the Field against the
Trojans,
desiring their Destruction.
The Lowness of this Image in Comparison with those which precede it, will naturally shock a modern Critick, and would scarce be forgiven in a Poet of these Times. The utmost a Translator can do is to heighten the Expression, so as to render the Disparity less observable: which is endeavour'd here, and in other Places. If this be done successfully the Reader is so far from being offended at a low Idea, that it raises his Surprize to find it grown great in the Poet's Hands, of which we have frequent Instances in
Virgil
's
Georgicks.
Here follows another of the same kind, in the Simile of
Agamemnon
to a
Bull
just after he has been compar'd to
Jove, Mars,
and
Neptune.
This,
Eustathius
tells us, was blam'd by some Criticks, and Mr.
Hobbes
has left it out in his Translation. The Liberty has been taken here to place the humbler Simile first, reserving the noble one as a more magnificent Close of the Description: The bare turning the Sentence removes the Objection.
Milton
who was a close Imitator of our Author, has often copy'd him in these humble Comparisons. He has not scrupled to insert one in the midst of that pompous Description of the Rout of the Rebel-Angels in the sixth Book, where the Son of God in all his dreadful Majesty is represented pouring his Vengeance upon them:
—As a Herd
Of Goats, or tim'rous Flocks together throng'd,
Drove them before him Thunder-struck—.
XXV.
VERSE 568.
Great as the Gods.
]
Homer here describes the Figure and Port of
Agamemnon
with all imaginable Grandeur, in making him appear cloath'd with the Majesty of the greatest of the Gods; and when
Plutarch
(in his second Oration of the Fortune of
Alexander
) blamed the Comparison of a Man to three Deities at once, that Censure was not pass'd upon
Homer
as a Poet, but by
Plutarch
as a Priest. This Character of Majesty in which
Agamemnon
excels all the other Heroes, is preserv'd in the different Views of him throughout the
Iliad.
It is thus he appears on his Ship in the Catalogue, thus he shines in the Eyes of
Priam
in the third Book, thus again in the beginning of the thirteenth, and so in the rest.
XXVI.
VERSE 572.
Say Virgins.
]
It is hard to conceive any Address more solemn, any Opening to a Subject more noble and magnificent, than this Invocation of
Homer
before his Catalogue. That Omnipresence he gives to the Muses, their Post in the highest Heaven, their comprehensive Survey thro' the whole Extent of the Creation, are Circumstances greatly imagined. Nor is any thing more perfectly fine or exquisitely moral, than the Opposition of the extensive Knowledge of the Divinities on the one side, to the Blindness and Ignorance of Mankind on the other. The Greatness and Importance of his Subject is highly rais'd by his exalted manner of declaring the Difficulty of it,
Not tho' my Lungs were Brass,
&c. and by the Air he gives as if what follows were immediately inspir'd, and no less than the joint Labour of all the Muses.
XXVII.
VERSE 586.
The hardy Warriors.
]
The Catalogue begins in this Place, which I forbear to treat of at present: only I must acknowledge here that the Translation has not been exactly punctual to the Order in which
Homer
places his Towns. However it has not trespass'd against Geography; the Transpositions I mention being no other than such minute ones, as
Strabo
confesses the Author himself is not free from:
.
Lib.
8. There is not to my Remembrance any Place throughout this Catalogue omitted; a Liberty which Mr.
Dryden
has made no difficulty to take and to confess, in his
Virgil.
But a more scrupulous Care was owing to
Homer,
on account of that wonderful Exactness and unequal'd Diligence, which he has particularly shewn in this Part of his Work.
XXVIII.
VERSE 649.
Down their broad Shoulders,
&c.]
The
Greek
has it
,
à tergo comantes.
It was the Custom of these People to shave the fore-part of their Heads, which they did that their Enemies might not take the Advantage of seizing them by the Hair: the hinder Part they let grow, as a valiant Race that would never turn their Backs. Their manner of fighting was hand to hand, without quitting their Javelins (in the way of our Pike-men.)
Plutarch
tells us this in the Life of
Theseus,
and cites to strengthen the Authority of
Homer,
some Verses of
Archilochus
to the same Effect.
Eobanus Hessus
who translated
Homer
into
Latine
Verse was therefore mistaken in his Version of this Passage.
Praecipuè Jaculatores, hastamque periti
Vibrare, & longis contingere pectora telis.
XXIX.
VERSE 711.
Eager and loud from Man to Man he flies.
]
The Figure
Menelaus
makes in this Place is remarkably distinguish'd from the rest, and sufficient to shew his Concern in the War was personal, while the others acted only for Interest or Glory in general. No Leader in all the List is represented thus eager and passionate; he is louder than them all in his Exhortations; more active in running among the Troops; and inspirited with the Thoughts of Revenge, which he still encreases with the secret Imagination of
Helen
's Repentance. This Behaviour is finely imagined.
The Epithet
which is apply'd in this and other Places to
Menelaus,
and which literally signifies
loud-voiced,
is made by the Commentators to mean
valiant,
and translated
bello strenuus.
The reason given by
Eustathius
is, that a loud Voice is a Mark of Strength, the usual Effect of Fear being to cut short the Respiration. I own this seems to be forc'd, and rather believe it was one of those kind of Sir-Names given from some distinguishing Quality of the Person (as that of a loud Voice might belong to
Menelaus
) which Mons.
Boileau
mentions in his ninth Reflection upon
Longinus;
in the same manner as some of our Kings were called
Edward Long-shanks, William Rufus,
&c. But however it be, the Epithet taken in the literal Sense has a Beauty in this Verse from the Circumstance
Menelaus
is described in, which determined the Translator to use it.
XXX.
VERSE 746.
New to all the Dangers of the Main.
]
The
Arcadians
being an Inland People were unskill'd in Navigation, for which reason
Agamemnon
furnish'd them with Shipping. From hence, and from the last Line of the Description of the Sceptre, where he is said to preside over
many Islands, Thucydides
takes occasion to observe that the Power of
Agamemnon
was superior to the rest of the Princes of
Greece,
on account of his Naval Forces, which had render'd him Master of the Sea.
Thucyd. lib.
1.
XXXI.
VERSE 815.
Three Ships with
Nireus.]
This Leader is no where mention'd but in these Lines, and is an Exception to the Observation of
Macrobius
that all the Persons of the Catalogue make their Appearance afterwards in the Poem.
Homer
himself gives us the reason, because
Nireus
had but a small Share of Worth and Valour; his Quality only gave him a Privilege to be nam'd among Men. The Poet has caused him to be remember'd no less than
Achilles
or
Ulysses,
but yet in no better manner than he deserv'd, whose only Qualification was his Beauty: 'Tis by a bare Repetition of his Name three times, which just leaves some Impression of him on the Mind of the Reader. Many others, of as trivial Memory as
Nireus,
have been preserv'd by Poets from Oblivion; but few Poets have ever done this Favour to Want of Merit with so much Judgment.
Demetrius Phalereus
,
Sect.
61. takes notice of this beautiful Repetition, which in a just Deference to so delicate a Critick is here preserv'd in the Translation.
XXXII.
VERSE 871.
The Grace and Glory of the beauteous Kind.
]
He gives
Alcestis
this Elogy of the Glory of her Sex, for her conjugal Piety, who dy'd to preserve the Life of her Husband
Admetus. Euripides
has a Tragedy on this Subject, which abounds in the most masterly Strokes of Tenderness: In particular the first Act, which contains the Description of her Preparation for Death; and her Behaviour in it can never be enough admired.
XXXIII.
VERSE 906.
In twenty Ships the bold
Perrhaebians
came.
]
I cannot tell whether it be worth observing that, except
Ogilby,
we have not met with one Translator who has exactly preserv'd the Number of the Ships.
Chapman
puts eighteen under
Eumelus
instead of eleven.
Hobbes
but twenty under
Ascalaphus
and
Ialmen
instead of thirty, and but thirty under
Menelaus
instead of sixty.
Valterie
(the former
French
Translator) has given
Agapenor
forty for sixty, and
Nestor
forty for ninety. Madam
Dacier
gives
Nestor
but eighty. I must confess this Translation not to have been quite so exact as
Ogilby
's, having cut off one from the Number of
Eumelus
's Ships, and two from those of
Guneus: Eleven
and
two and
twenty
would sound but oddly in
English
Verse, and a Poem contracts a Littleness by insisting on such trivial Niceties.
XXXIV.
VERSE 925.
Or rein'd the noblest Steeds.
]
This coupling together the Men and Horses seems odd enough, but
Homer
every where treats these noble Animals with remarkable Regard. We need not wonder at this Enquiry,
which were the best Horses?
from him, who makes his Horses of heavenly Extraction as well as his Heroes, who makes his Warriours address them with Speeches and excite them by all those Motives which affect a human Breast, who describes them sheding Tears of Sorrow, and even capable of Voice and Prophecy: In most of which Points
Virgil
has not scrupled to imitate him.
XXXV.
VERSE 939.
His Troops,
&c.]
The Image in these Lines of the Amusements of the
Myrmidons,
while
Achilles
detain'd them from the Fight, has an exquisite Propriety in it. Tho' they are not in Action, their very Diversions are Military, and a kind of Exercise of Arms. The cover'd Chariot and feeding Horses, make a natural Part of the Picture; and nothing is finer than the manly Concern of the Captains, who as they are suppos'd more sensible of Glory than the Soldiers, take no share in their Diversions, but wander sorrowfully round the Camp, and lament their being kept from the Battel. This difference betwixt the Soldiers and the Leaders (as
Dacier
observes) is a Decorum of the highest Beauty.
Milton
has admirably imitated this in the Description he gives in his second Book of the Diversions of the Angels during the Absence of
Lucifer.
Part on the Plain, or in the Air sublime,
Upon the Wing, or in swift Race contend;
Part curb their fiery Steeds, or shun the Goal
With rapid Wheels, or fronted Brigades form.
But how nobly and judiciously has he raised the Image, in proportion to the Nature of those more exalted Beings, in that which follows.
Others with vast
Typhoean
Rage more fell
Rend up both Rocks and Hills, and ride the Air
In Whirlwind; Hell scarce holds the wild Uproar.
XXXVI.
VERSE 950.
As when angry
Jove.]
The Comparison preceding this, of a Fire which runs thro' the Corn and blazes to Heaven, had exprest at once the dazling of their Arms and the Swiftness of their March. After which
Homer
having mention'd the Sound of their Feet, superadds another Simile, which comprehends both the Ideas of the Brightness and the Noise: for here (says
Eustathius
) the Earth appears to
burn
and
groan
at the same time. Indeed the first of these Similes is so full and so noble, that it scarce seem'd possible to be exceeded by any Image drawn from Nature. But
Homer
to raise it yet higher, has gone into the
Marvellous,
given a prodigious and supernatural Prospect, and brought down
Jupiter
himself, array'd in all his Terrors, to discharge his Lightnings and Thunders on
Typhoeus.
The Poet breaks out into this Description with an Air of Enthusiasm, which greatly heightens the Image in general, while it seems to transport him beyond the Limits of an exact Comparison. And this daring manner is particular to our Author above all the Ancients, and to
Milton
above all the Moderns.
XXXVII.
VERSE 1012.
From
Practius'
Stream,
Percote
's Pasture Lands.
]
Homer does not expresly mention
Practius
as a River, but
Strabo, lib.
13. tells us it is to be understood so in this Passage. The Appellative of Pasture Lands to
Percote
is justify'd in the 15
th Iliad,
℣. 547. where
Hicetaon
is said to feed his Oxen in that Place.
XXXVIII.
VERSE 1032. Axius,
that swells with all his neighb'ring Rills.
]
According to the common Reading this Verse should be translated, Axius
that diffuses his beautiful Waters over the Land.
But we are assured by
Strabo
that
Axius
was a muddy River, and that the Ancients understood it thus, Axius
that receives into it several beautiful Rivers.
The Criticism lies in the last word of the Verse,
, which
Strabo
reads
, and interprets of the River
Aea,
whose Waters were pour'd into
Axius.
However
Homer
describes this River agreeable to the vulgar reading in
Il.
21. ℣. 158.
. This Version takes in both.
OBSERVATIONS on the CATALOGUE.
IF we look upon this Piece with an Eye to ancient Learning, it may be observ'd that however fabulous the other Parts of
Homer
's Poem may be according to the Nature of Epic Poetry, this Account of the People, Princes, and Countries is purely Historical, founded on the real Transactions of those Times, and by far the most valuable Piece of History and Geography left us concerning the State of
Greece
in that early Period.
Greece
was then divided into several Dynasties, which our Author has enumerated under their respective Princes; and his Division was look'd upon so exact, that we are told of many Controversies concerning the Boundaries of
Graecian
Cities which have been decided upon the Authority of this Piece.
Eustathius
has collected together the following Instances. The City of
Calydon
was adjudg'd to the
Aetolians
notwithstanding the Pretensions of
Aeolia,
because
Homer
had rank'd it among the Towns belonging to the former.
Sestos
was given to those of
Abydos,
upon the Plea that he had said, the
Abydonians
were Possessors of
Sestos, Abydos,
and
Arisbe.
When the
Milesians
and People of
Priene
disputed their Claim to
Mycale,
a Verse of
Homer
carry'd it in favour of the
Milesians.
And the
Athenians
were put in Possession of
Salamis
by another which was cited by
Solon,
or (as some think) interpolated by him for that Purpose. Nay in so high Estimation has this Catalogue been held, that (as
Porphyry
has written) there have been Laws in some Nations for the Youth to learn it by heart, and particularly
Cerdias
(whom
Cuperus de Apoth. Homer.
takes to be
Cercydas
a Law-giver of the
Megalopolitans
) made it one to his Countrymen.
But if we consider the Catalogue purely as poetical, it will not want its Beauties in that Light.
Rapin
who was none of the most superstitious Admirers of our Author, reckons it among those Parts which had particularly charm'd him. We may observe first, what an Air of Probability is spread over the whole Poem by the particularizing of every Nation and People concern'd in this War. Secondly, what an entertaining Scene he presents to us, of so many Countries drawn in their liveliest and most natural Colours, while we wander along with him amidst a beautiful Variety of Towns, Havens, Forests, Vineyards, Groves, Mountains, and Rivers, and are perpetually amus'd with his Observations on the different Soils, Products, Situations, or Prospects. Thirdly, what a noble Review he passes before us of so mighty an Army, drawn out in order Troop by Troop; which had the Number only been told in the Gross, had never fill'd the Reader with so great a Notion of the Importance of the Action. Fourthly, the Description of the differing Arms and manner of fighting of the Soldiers, and the various Attitudes he had given to the Commanders: Of these Leaders, the greatest Part are either the immediate Sons of Gods, or the Descendants of Gods; and how great an Idea must we have of a War, to the waging of which so many Demi-Gods and Heroes are assembled? Fifthly, the several artful Compliments he paid by this means to his own Country in general, and many of his Contemporaries in particular, by a Celebration of the Genealogies, ancient Seats, and Dominions of the great Men of his Time. Sixthly, the agreeable Mixture of Narrations from Passages of History or Fables, with which he amuses and relieves us at proper Intervals. And lastly, the admirable Judgment wherewith he introduces this whole Catalogue, just at a Time when the Posture of Affairs in the Army render'd such a Review of absolute Necessity to the
Greeks;
and in a Pause of Action, while each was refreshing himself to prepare for the ensuing Battels.
Macrobius
in his
Saturnalia, lib.
5.
cap.
15. has given us a judicious Piece of Criticism, in the Comparison betwixt the Catalogues of
Homer
and of
Virgil,
in which he justly allows the Preference to our Author for the following Reasons.
Homer
(says he) has begun his Description from the most noted Promontory of
Greece
(he means that of
Aulis,
where was the narrowest Passage to
Euboea.
) From thence with a regular Progress he describes either the maritime or mediterranean Towns as their Situations are contiguous; he never passes with sudden Leaps from Place to Place, omitting those which lie between; but proceeding like a Traveller in the way he has begun, constantly returns to the Place from whence he digress'd, 'till he finishes the whole Circle he design'd.
Virgil
on the contrary has observ'd no Order in the Regions describ'd in his Catalogue,
l.
10. but is perpetually breaking from the Course of the Country in a loose and desultory manner. You have
Clusium
and
Cosae
at the beginning, next
Populonia
and
Ilva,
then
Pisae,
which lie at a vast distance in
Etruria;
and immediately after
Cerete, Pyrgi,
and
Graviscae,
Places adjacent to
Rome:
From hence he is snatch'd to
Liguria,
then to
Mantua.
The same Negligence is observable in his Enumeration of the Aids that follow'd
Turnus
in
l.
7.
Macrobius
next remarks, that whatever Persons are nam'd by
Homer
in his Catalogue, are afterwards introduc'd in his Battels, and whenever any others are kill'd, he mentions only a Multitude in general. Whereas
Virgil
(he continues) has spar'd himself the Labour of that Exactness; For not only several whom he mentions in the List are never heard of in the War, but others make a Figure in the War of whom we had no notice in the List. For Example, he specifies a thousand Men under
Massicus
who came from
Clusium, l.
10. ℣. 167.
Turnus
soon afterwards is in the Ship which had carry'd King
Osinius
from the same Place,
l.
10. ℣. 655. This
Osinius
was never nam'd before, nor is it probable a King should serve under
Massicus.
Nor indeed does either
Massicus
or
Osinius
ever make their Appearance in the Battels—He proceeds to instance several others, who tho' celebrated for Heroes in the Catalogue, have no farther notice taken of them throughout the Poem. In the third Place he animadverts upon the Confusion of the same Names in
Virgil:
As where
Corinaeus
in the ninth Book is kill'd by
Asylas,
℣. 571. and
Corinaeus
in the twelfth kills
Ebusus,
℣. 298.
Numa
is slain by
Nisus, l.
9. ℣. 554. and
Aeneas
is afterwards in pursuit of
Numa, l.
10. ℣. 562.
Aeneas
kills
Camertes
in the tenth Book, ℣. 562. and
Juturna
assumes his Shape in the twelfth, ℣. 224. He observes the same Obscurity in his
Patronymics.
There is
Palinurus Iasides,
and
Iapix Iasides, Hippocoon Hyrtacides,
and
Asylas Hyrtacides.
On the contrary the Caution of
Homer
is remarkable, who having two of the Name of
Ajax
is constantly careful to distinguish them by
Oïleus
or
Telamonius,
the
lesser
or the
greater Ajax.
I know nothing to be alledg'd in Defence of
Virgil,
in answer to this Author, but the common Excuse that his
Aeneis
was left unfinish'd. And upon the whole, these are such trivial Slips as great Wits may pass over, and little Criticks rejoice at.
But
Macrobius
has another Remark which one may accuse of evident Partiality on the side of
Homer.
He blames
Virgil
for having vary'd the Expression in his Catalogue to avoid the Repetition of the same Words, and prefers the bare and unadorn'd Reiterations of
Homer;
who begins almost every Article the same way, and ends perpetually,
,
&c.
Perhaps the best reason to be given for this, had been the artless Manner of the first Times, when such Repetitions were not thought ungraceful. This may appear from several of the like Nature in the Scripture; as in the twenty sixth Chapter of
Numbers,
where the Tribes of
Israel
are enumerated in the Plains of
Moab,
and each Division recounted in the same Words. So in the seventh Chapter of the
Revelations: Of the Tribe of
Gad
were sealed twelve thousand, &c.
But the Words of
Macrobius
are
Has copias fortasse putat aliquis Divinae illi simplicitati praeferendas. Sed nescio quo modo Homerum
repetitio illa unicè decet, & est genio antiqui Poetae digna.
This is exactly in the Spirit, and almost in the Cant of a true modern Critick. The
Simplicitas,
the
Nescio quo modo,
the
Genio antiqui Poetae digna,
are excellent general Phrases for those who have no Reasons.
Simplicity
is our Word of Disguise for a shameful unpoetical Neglect of Expression: The Term of the
Je ne sçay quoy
is the very Support of all ignorant Pretenders to Delicacy; and to lift up our Eyes, and talk of the
Genius of an Ancient,
is at once the cheapest way of shewing our own Taste, and the shortest way of criticizing the Wit of others our Contemporaries.
One may add to the foregoing Comparison of these two Authors, some Reasons for the Length of
Homer
's, and the Shortness of
Virgil
's Catalogues. As, that
Homer
might have a Design to settle the Geography of his Country, there being no Description of
Greece
before his Days; which was not the Case with
Virgil. Homer
's Concern was to compliment
Greece
at a time when it was divided into many distinct States, each of which might expect a Place in his Catalogue: But when all
Italy
was swallow'd up in the sole Dominion of
Rome, Virgil
had only
Rome
to celebrate.
Homer
had a numerous Army, and was to describe an important War with great and various Events; whereas
Virgil
's Sphere was much more confined. The Ships of the
Greeks
are computed at about one thousand two hundred, those of
Aeneas
and his Aids but at two and forty; and as the Time of the Action of both Poems is the same, we may suppose the Built of their Ships, and the Number of Men they contain'd, to be much alike. So that if the Army of
Homer
amounts to about a hundred thousand Men, that of
Virgil
cannot be above four thousand. If any one be farther curious to know upon what this Computation is founded, he may see it in the following Passage of
Thucidydes, lib.
1.
"
Homer
's Fleet (says he) consisted of one thousand two hundred Vessels: those of the
Boeotians
carry'd one hundred and twenty Men in each, and those of
Philoctetes
fifty. By these I suppose
Homer
exprest the largest and the smallest Size of Ships, and therefore mentions no other sort. But he tells us of those who sail'd with
Philoctetes,
that they serv'd both as Mariners and Soldiers, in saying the Rowers were all of them Archers. From hence the whole Number will be seen, if we estimate the Ships at a Medium between the greatest and the least."
That is to say, at eighty five Men to each Vessel (which is the Mean between fifty and a hundred and twenty) the Total comes to a hundred and two thousand Men.
Plutarch
was therefore in a Mistake when he computed the Men at a hundred and twenty thousand, which proceeded from his supposing a hundred and twenty in every Ship; the contrary to which appears from the above-mention'd Ships of
Philoctetes,
as well as from those of
Achilles,
which are said to carry but fifty Men a-piece, in the sixteenth
Iliad,
℣. 167.
Besides
Virgil
's Imitation of this Catalogue, there has scarce been any Epic Writer but has copy'd after it; which is at least a Proof how beautiful this Part has been ever esteem'd by the finest Genius's in all Ages. The Catalogues in the ancient Poets are generally known, only I must take notice that the
Phocian
and
Boeotian
Towns in the fourth
Thebaid
of
Statius
are translated from hence. Of the Moderns, those which most excel, owe their Beauty to the Imitation of some single Particular only of
Homer.
Thus the chief Grace of
Tasso
's Catalogue consists in the Description of the Heroes, without any thing remarkable on the side of the Countries: Of the Pieces of Story he has interwoven, that of
Tancred
's Amour to
Clorinda
is ill placed, and evidently too long for the rest.
Spencer
's Enumeration of the
British
and
Irish Rivers
in the eleventh Canto of his fourth Book, is one of the noblest in the World; if we consider his Subject was more confined, and can excuse his not observing the Order or Course of the Country; but his Variety of Description, and Fruitfulness of Imagination are no where more admirable than in that Part.
Milton
's List of the fallen Angels in his first Book is an exact Imitation of
Homer,
as far as regards the Digressions of History and Antiquities, and his manner of inserting them: In all else I believe it must be allow'd inferior. And indeed what
Macrobius
has said to cast
Virgil
below
Homer,
will fall much more strongly upon all the rest.
I had some cause to fear that this Catalogue which contributed so much to the Success of the Author, should ruin that of the Translator. A meer heap of proper Names tho' but for a few Lines together, could afford little Entertainment to an
English
Reader, who probably could not be appriz'd either of the Necessity or Beauty of this Part of the Poem. There were but two things to be done to give it a chance to please him; to render the Versification very flowing and musical, and to make the whole appear as much a
Landscape
or
Piece of Painting
as possible. For both of these I had the Example of
Homer
in general; and
Virgil,
who found the Necessity in another Age to give more into Description, seem'd to authorise the latter in particular.
Dionysius
of
Halicarnassus
in his Discourse of the
Structure and Disposition of Words,
professes to admire nothing more than that harmonious Exactness with which
Homer
has placed these Words, and soften'd the Syllables into each other, so as to derive Musick from a Croud of Names which have in themselves no Beauty or Dignity. I would flatter my self that I have practis'd this not unsuccessfully in our Language, which is more susceptible of all the Variety and Power of Numbers than any of the modern, and second to none but the
Greek
and
Roman.
For the latter Point, I have ventured to open the Prospect a little, by the addition of a few Epithets or short Hints of Description to some of the Places mention'd; tho' seldom exceeding the Compass of half a Verse (the Space to which my Author himself generally confines these Pictures in Miniature.) But this has never been done without the best Authorities from the Ancients, which may be seen under the respective Names in the Geographical Table following.
The Table itself I thought but necessary to annex to the Map, as my Warrant for the Situations assign'd in it to several of the Towns. For in whatever Maps I have seen to this Purpose, many of the Places are omitted, or else set down at random.
Sophianus
and
Gerbelius
have labour'd to settle the Geography of old
Greece,
many of whose Mistakes were rectify'd by
Laurenbergius.
These however deserv'd a greater Commendation than those who succeeded them; and particularly
Sanson
's Map prefix'd to
Du Pin
's
Bibliotheque Historique
is miserably defective both in Omissions and false Placings; which I am obliged to mention, as it pretends to be design'd expresly for this Catalogue of
Homer.
I am persuaded the greater Part of my Readers will have no Curiosity this way, however they may allow me the Endeavour of gratifying those few who have: The rest are at liberty to pass the two or three following Leaves unread.
A GEOGRAPHICAL TABLE of the Towns,
&c.
in HOMER's Catalogue of
Greece,
with the Authorities for their Situation, as placed in this Map.
BOEOTIA, under five Captains,
Peneleus,
&c. containing,
AULIS, a Haven on the
Euboean
Sea opposite to
Chalcis,
where the Passage to
Euboea
is narrowest.
Strabo lib.
9.
Eteon, Homer
describes it a Hilly Country, and
Statius
after him
—densamque jugis Eteonen iniquis. Theb.
7.
Hyrie,
a Town and Lake of the same Name, belonging to the Territory of
Tanagra
or
Graea. Strab. l.
9.
Schaenus,
it lay in the Road between
Thebes
and
Anthedon,
50 Stadia from
Thebes. Strab. ibid.
Scolos,
a Town under Mount
Cythaeron. Ibid.
Thespia,
near
Haliartus
under Mount
Helicon. Paus. Boeot.
near the
Corinthian
Bay.
Strab. l.
9.
Graea,
the same with
Tanagra,
30 Stadia from
Aulis,
on the
Euboean
Sea; by this Place the River
Asopus
falls into that Sea.
Ibid.
Mycalessus,
between
Thebes
and
Chalcis. Paus. Boeot.
near
Tanagra
or
Graea. Strab. l.
9. famous for its Pine-trees.
—Pinigeris Mycalessus in agris. Statius, l.
7.
Harma,
close by
Mycalessus. Strab. l.
9. This Town as well as the former lay near the Road from
Thebes
to
Chalcis. Paus. Boeot.
It was here that
Amphiaraus
was swallow'd by the Earth in his Chariot, from whence it receiv'd its Name.
Strab. ibid.
Ilesion,
it was situate in the Fens near
Heleon
and
Hyle,
not far from
Tanagra.
These three Places took their Name from being so scated (
,
Palus.
)
Strab. l.
9.
Erythrae,
in the Confines of
Attica
near
Plataea. Thucyd. l.
3.
—dites Pecorum comitantur Erythroe. Stat. Theb.
7.
Peteon,
in the way from
Thebes
to
Anthedon. Strab. l.
9.
Ocalea,
in the mid-way betwixt
Haliartus
and
Alalcomenes. Ibid.
Medeon,
near
Onchestus. Ibid.
Copae,
a Town on the Lake
Copais,
by the River
Cephisus,
next
Orchomenus. Ibid.
Eutresis,
a small Town of the
Thespians
near
Thisbe. Ibid.
Thisbe,
under Mount
Helicon. Paus. Boeot.
Coronea,
seated on the
Cephisus
where it falls into the Lake
Copais. Strab. l.
9.
Haliartus,
on the same Lake,
Strab. ibid.
bordering on
Coronea
and
Plataea. Paus. Boeot.
Plataea,
between
Cithaeron
and
Thebes,
divided from the latter by the River
Asopus. Strab. l.
9
Viridesque Plataeas. Stat. Th.
7.
Glissa,
in the Territory of
Thebes,
abounding with Vines.
Baccho Glisanta colentes. Stat. Th.
7.
Thebe,
situate between the Rivers
Ismenus
and
Asopus. Strab. l.
9.
Onchestus,
on the Lake
Copais.
The Grove consecrated to
Neptune
in this Place, and celebrated by
Homer,
together with a Temple and Statue of that God, were shewn in the Time of
Pausanias. Vide Boeot.
Arne,
seated on the same Lake, famous for Vines.
Strab. Hom.
Midea,
on the same Lake.
Ibid.
Nissa,
or
Nysa
(
apud Statium
) or according to
Strabo l.
9.
Isa;
near
Anthedon.
Anthedon,
a City on the Sea-side opposite to
Euboea,
the utmost on the Shore towards
Locris. Strab. l.
9.
Teque ultima tractu Anthedon. Statius, l.
7.
Aspledon,
20 Stadia from
Orchomenus. Strab. l.
9.
Orchomenus,
and the Plains about it, being the most spacious of all in
Boeotia.
(
Plutarch
in vit.
Syllae,
circa medium.)
Homer
distinguishes these two last from the rest of
Boeotia.
They were commanded by
Ascalaphus
and
Ialmen.
PHOCIS, under
Schedius
and
Epistropus,
containing,
Cyparissus,
the same with
Anticyrrha
according to
Pausanias,
on the Bay of
Corinth.
Pytho,
adjoining to
Parnassus:
some think it the same with
Delphi. Pausan. Phocic.
Crissa,
a Sea-Town on the Bay of
Corinth
near
Cyrrha. Strab. l.
9.
Daulis,
upon the
Cephisus
at the Foot of
Parnassus. Ibid.
Panopea,
upon the same River, adjoining to
Orchomenia,
just by
Hyampolis
or
Anemoria. Ibid.
Hyampolis, Anemoria,
both the same according to
Strabo. Ibid.
confining upon
Locris. Paus. Phoc.
Lilaea,
at the Head of the River
Cephisus,
just on the Edge of
Phocis. Ibid.—propellentemque Lilaeam Cephissi glaciale caput. Statius, l.
7.
LOCRIS, under
Ajax Oïleus,,
containing,
Cynns,
a maritime Town towards
Euboea. Strab. l.
9.
Opus,
a
Locrian
City, 15 Stadia from the Sea, adjacent to
Panopea
in
Phocis. Ibid.
Calliarus.
Bessa,
so called from being cover'd with Shrubs.
Strab. l.
9.
Scarphe
seated between
Thronium
and
Thermopylae,
ten Stadia from the Sea.
Ibid.
Augiae.
Tarphe.
Thronius,
on the
Melian
Bay.
Strab. l.
9.
Boagrius,
a River that passes by
Thronius,
and runs into the Bay of
O Eta,
between
Cynus
and
Scarphe. Ibid.
All these opposite to the Isle of
Euboea.
EUBOEA, under
Elephenor,
containing,
Chalcis,
the City nearest to the Continent of
Greece,
just opposite to
Aulis
in
Boeotia. Strab. l.
10.
Eretria,
between
Chalcis
and
Gerestus. Ibid.
Histioea,
a Town with Vineyards over against
Thessaly. Herod. l.
7.
Cerinthus,
on the Sea-shore.
Hom.
near the River
Budorus. Strab. l.
10.
Dios,
seated high.
Hom.
near
Histioea. Strab. ibid.
Carystos,
a City at the Foot of the Mountain
Ocha. Strab. ibid.
between
Eretria
and
Gerestus. Ptolom. l.
3.
Styra,
a Town near
Carystos. Strab. ibid.
ATHENS, under
Menestheus.
The Isle of SALAMIS, under
Ajax Telamon.
PELOPONNESUS, the East Part divided into
Argia
and
Mycenae,
under
Agamemnon,
contains,
Argos,
40 Stades from the Sea.
Paus. Corin.
Tyrinthe,
between
Argos
and
Epidaurus. Ibid.
Asinen, Hermion, Traezene,
Three Cities lying in this Order on the Bay of
Hermione. Strab. l.
8.
Paus. Corinth. Traezene
was seated high, and
Asine
a Rocky Coast.
—Alta
que
Traezene. Ovid. Fast.
2.
—Quos Asinae cautes. Lucan. l.
8.
Eionae
was on the Sea-side, for
Strabo
tells us the People of
Mycenae
made it a Station for their Ships.
Lib.
8.
Epidaurus,
a Town and little Island adjoining in the inner Part of the
Saronic
Bay.
Strab. l.
8. It was fruitful in Vines in
Homer
's Time.
The Isle of
Aegina,
over against
Epidaurus.
Maseta
belongs to the
Argolic
Shore according to
Strabo,
who observes that
Homer
names it not in the exact Order, placing it with
Aegina. Strab. l.
8.
MYCENAE, between
Cleone
and
Argos. Str. Pausan.
Corinth,
near the
Isthmus.
Cleone,
between
Argos
and
Corinth. Paus. Corinth.
Ornia,
on the Borders of
Sicyonia. Ibid.
Arethyria,
the same with
Phliasia,
at the Source of the
Achaian Asopus. Strab. l.
8.
Sicyon,
(anciently the Kingdom of
Adrastus
) betwixt
Corinth
and
Achaia. Paus. Corinth.
Hyperesia,
the same with
Aegira,
says
Pausan. Achaic.
seated betwixt
Pellene
and
Helice. Strab. l.
8. opposite to
Parnassus. Polyb. l.
4.
Gonoessa, Homer
describes it situate very high, and
Seneca Troas. Cares nunquam Gonoessa vento.
Pellene,
bordering on
Sicyon
and
Pheneus,
60 Stadia from the Sea.
Paus. Arcad.
celebrated anciently for its Wool.
Strab. l.
8.
Jul. Poll.
Aegium, Helice,
Next
Sicyon
lies
Pellene, &c.
then
Helice,
and next to
Helice, Aegium. Strab. l.
8.
Helice
lies on the Sea-side, 40 Stadia from
Aegium. Paus. Ach.
The West Part of PELOPONNESUS, divided into
Laconia, Messenia, Arcadia,
and
Elis.
LACONIA, under
Menelaus,
containing,
Sparta,
the capital City, on the River
Eurotas.
Phares,
on the Bay of
Messenia. Strab. l.
8.
Messa, Strabo
thinks this a Contraction of
Messena,
and
Statius
in his Imitation of this Catalogue,
lib.
4. calls it so.
Brysia,
under Mount
Taygetus. Paus. Lacon.
Augiae,
the same with
Aegiae
in the Opinion of
Pausanias
(
Laconicis
) 30 Stadia from
Gythium.
Amyclae,
20 Stades from
Sparta
toward the Sea.
Ptol. l.
4. under the Mountain
Taygetus.
Strab. l.
8.
Helos,
on the Sea-side.
Hom.
upon the River
Eurotas. Strab. ibid.
Laas,
O Etylos,
near the Promontory of
Taenarus. Paus. Lac.
MESSENIA, under
Nestor,
containing,
Pylos,
the City of
Nestor
on the Sea-shore.
Arene,
seated near the River
Minyeius. Hom. Il.
11.
Strab. l.
8.
Thryon,
on the River
Alpheus,
the same which
Homer
elsewhere calls
Thryoëssa. Strab. ibid.
Aepy,
the ancient Geographers differ about the Situation of this Town, but agree to place it near the Sea.
Vide Strab. l.
8.
—Summis ingestum montibus Aepy. Stat. l.
4.
Cyparisie,
on the Borders of
Messenia,
and upon the Bay called from it
Cyparissaeus. Paus. Messen.
Amphigenia,—Fertilis Amphigenia. Stat. Th.
4. near the former. So also,
Pteleon,
which was built by a Colony from
Pteleon
in
Thessaly. Strab. l.
8.
Helos,
near the River
Alpheus. Ibid.
Dorion,
a Field or Mountain near the Sea.
Ibid.
ARCADIA, under
Agapenor,
containing,
The Mountain
Cyllene,
the highest of
Peloponnesus,
on the Borders of
Achaia
and
Arcadia,
near
Pheneus. Paus. Arcad.
Under this stood the Tomb of
Aepytus.
That Monument (the same Author tells us) was remaining in his Time, it was only a heap of Earth inclos'd with a Wall of rough Stone.
Pheneus,
confining on
Pellene
and
Stymphelus. Ibid.
Orchomenus,
confining on
Pheneus
and
Mantinaea. Ibid.
Ripe, Stratie, Enispe,
These three,
Strabo
tells us, are not to be found, nor their Situation assign'd.
Lib.
8.
prope fin. Enispe
stood high, as appears from
Homer,
and
Statius l.
4.
Ventosaque donat Enispe.
Tegea,
between
Argos
and
Sparta. Polyb. l.
4.
Mantinaea,
bordering upon
Tegea, Argia,
and
Orchomenus. Paus. Arcad.
Stymphelus,
confining on
Phliasia
or
Arethyria. Strab. l.
8.
Parrahasia,
adjoining to
Laconia. Thucyd. l.
5.
—Parrhasiae
que
nives. Ovid. Fast.
2.
ELIS, under four Leaders,
Amphimachus,
&c. containing,
The City
Elis,
120 Stades from the Sea.
Paus. Eliacis
2.
Buprasium
near
Elis. Strab. l.
8.
The Places bounded by the Fields of
Hyrmine,
in the Territory of
Elis,
between Mount
Cyllene
and the Sea.
Myrsinus,
on the Sea-side 70 Stades from
Elis. Strab. l.
8.
The
Olenian Rocks,
which stood near the City
Olenos
at the Mouth of the River
Pierus. Paus. Achaic.
And
Alysium,
the Name of a Town or River, in the way from
Elis
to
Pisa. Strab. l.
8.
The ISLES over against the Continent of
Elis, Achaia,
or
Acarnania.
Echinades
and
Dulichium,
under
Meges.
The
Cephalenians
under
Ulysses,
being those from
Samos
(the same with
Cephalenia
) from
Zacynthus, Grocylia, Aegilipa, Neritus,
and
Ithaca.
This last is generally suppos'd to be the largest of these Islands on the East side of
Cephalenia,
and next to it; but that is, according to
Wheeler,
20
Italian
Miles in Circumference, whereas
Strabo
gives
Ithaca
but 80 Stadia about. It was rather one of the lesser Islands toward the Mouth of the
Achelous.
Homer
adds to these Places under the Dominion of
Ulysses, Epirus
and the
opposite Continent,
by which (as M.
Dacier
observes) cannot be meant
Epirus
properly so call'd, which was never subject to
Ulysses,
but only the Sea-coast of
Acarnania
opposite to the Islands.
The Continent of ACARNANIA and AETOLIA, under
Thoas.
Pleuron,
seated between
Chalcis
and
Calydon,
by the Sea-shore upon the River
Evenus,
West of
Chalcis. Strab. l.
10.
Olenos,
lying above
Calydon,
with the
Evenus
on the East of it.
Ibid.
Pylene,
the same with
Proschion,
not far from
Pleuron,
but more in the Land,
Strab. l.
10.
Chalcis,
a Sea Town.
Hom.
situate on the East side of the
Evenus. Strab. ibid.
There was another
Chalcis
at the Head of the
Evenus
call'd by
Strabo Hypo-Chalcis.
Calydon,
on the
Evenus
also.
Ibid.
The Isle of CRETE, under
Idomeneus,
containing,
Gnossus,
seated in the Plain between
Lyctus
and
Gortyna,
120 Stad. from
Lyctus. Strab. l.
10.
Gortyna,
90 Stad. from the
African
Sea.
Ibid.
Lyctus,
80 Stad. from the same Sea.
Ibid.
Miletus,
Phestus,
60. Stad. from
Gortyna,
20 from the Sea, under
Gortyna. Strab. ibid.
It lay on the River
Jardan,
as appears by
Homer
's Description of it in the third Book of the
Odysses.
Lycastus,
Rhytium,
under
Gortyna. Strab.
The Isle of RHODES, under
Tlepolemus,
containing,
Lindus,
on the right Hand to those who sail from the City
Rhodes,
Southward.
Strab. l.
14.
Jalyssus,
between
Camirus
and
Rhodes. Ibid. Camirus.
The Islands,
Syma
(under
Nireus
)
Nisyrus, Carpathus, Casus, Cos, Calydnae,
under
Antiphus
and
Phidippus.
The Continent of THESSALY toward the
Aegean
Sea, under
Achilles.
Argos Pelasgicum
(the same which was since called
Pthiotis.
)
Strabo lib.
9. says that some thought this the Name of a Town, others that
Homer
meant by it this Part of
Thessaly
in general (which last seems most probable.)
Steph. Byzant.
observes, there was a City
Argos
in
Thessaly
as well as in
Peloponnesus;
the former was call'd
Pelasgic
in Contradistinction to the
Achaian:
for tho' the
Pelasgi
possest several Parts of
Epirus, Crete, Peloponnesus, &c.
yet they retain'd their principal Seat in
Thessaly. Steph. Byz. in
v.
Panel.
Alos, Alope,
Both on the Shore of
Thessaly
towards
Locris. Strab. l
9.
Alos
lies in the Passage of Mount
Othrys. Ibid.
Trechine,
under the Mountain
O Eta. Eustath. in Il.
2.
Phthia, Hellas.
Some suppos'd these two to be Names of the same Place, as
Strabo
says; tho' 'tis plain
Homer
distinguishes them. Whether they were Cities or Regions
Strabo
is not determin'd.
Lib.
9.
The
Hellenes.
This Denomination, afterwards common to all the
Greeks,
is here to be understood only of those who inhabited
Phthiotis.
It was not 'till long after
Homer
's Time that the People of other Cities of
Greece
desiring Assistance from these, began to have the same Name from their Communication with them, as
Thucydides
remarks in the beginning of his first Book.
The following under
Protesilaus.
Phylace,
on the Coast of
Phthiotis
toward the
Melian
Bay.
Strab. l.
9.
Pyrrhasus,
beyond the Mountain
Othrys,
had the Grove of
Ceres
within two Stadia of it.
Ibid.
Itona,
60 Stad. from
Alos,
it lay higher in the Land than
Pyrrhasus,
above Mount
Othrys. Ibid.
Antron,
on the Sea-side
Hom.
in the Passage to
Euboea. Ibid.
Pteleon,
the Situation of this Town in
Strabo
seems to be between
Antron
and
Pyrrhasus:
But
Pliny
describes it with great Exactness to lie on the Shore towards
Boeotia,
on the Confines of
Phthiotis,
upon the River
Sperchius;
according to which Particulars it must have been seated as I have placed it.
Livy
also seats it on the
Sperchius.
All those Towns which were under
Protesilans
(says
Strabo, lib.
9.) being the five last mention'd, lay on the Eastern side of the Mountain
Othrys.
These under
Eumelus.
Pherae,
in the farthest Part of
Magnesia
confining on Mount
Pelion. Strab. l.
9. near the Lake of
Baebe. Ptol.
and plentifully water'd with the Fountains of
Hyperia. Strab.
Glaphyrae,
Iolcos,
a Sea-Town on the
Pegasaean
Bay.
Livy, l.
4. and
Strab.
Ʋ nder
Philoctetes.
Methone,
a City of
Macedonia,
40 Stadia from
Pydna
in
Pieria. Strab.
Thaumacia, Moehbea,
in
Phthiotis
near
Pharsalus,
according to the same Author.
Ibid.
Olyzon.
It seems that this Place lay near
Baebe, Iolcos,
and
Ormenium,
from
Strab. l.
9. where he says,
Demetrius
caused the Inhabitants of these Towns to remove to
Demetrias,
on the same Coast.
The Ʋ pper THESSALY.
The following under
Podalirius
and
Machaon.
Trice,
or
Tricce,
not far from the Mountain
Pindus,
on the left Hand of the
Peneus
as it runs from
Pindus. Strab. l.
9.
Ithome,
near
Trica. Ibid.
O Echalia,
the Situation not certain, somewhere near the forementioned Towns.
Str. ibid.
Ʋ nder
Eurypylus.
Ormenium,
under
Pellon,
on the
Pegasaean
Bay, near
Baebe. Ibid.
Asterium,
hard by
Phoerae
and
Titanus. Ibid.
Ʋ nder
Polyphaetes.
Agrissa,
lying upon the River
Peneus. Str, l.
9.
Gyrtone,
a City of
Perrhaebia
at the Foot of
Olympus. Ibid.
Orthe,
near
Peneus
and
Tempe. Ibid.
Elope, Oloosson,
both lying under
Olympus
near the River
Titaresius. Ibid.
Ʋ nder
Guneus
and
Protheus.
Cyphus,
seated in the mountainous Country towards
Olympus. Ibid.
Dodona,
among the Mountains toward
Olympus. Ibid.
Titaresius,
a River rising in the Mountain
Titarus
near
Olympus,
and running into
Peneus. Ibid.
'Tis also call'd
Eurotas.
The River
Peneus
rises from Mount
Pindus,
and flows through
Tempe
into the Sea.
Strab. l.
7. and 9.
Pelion,
near
Ossa,
in
Magnesia. Herod. lib.
7,
A Table of TROY, and the Auxiliar COUNTRIES.
THE Kingdom of
Priam
divided into eight Dynasties.
1.
Troas,
under
Hector,
whose Capital was
Ilion.
2.
Dardania,
under
Aeneas,
the Capital
Dardanus.
3.
Zeleia,
at the Foot of
Ida,
by the
Aesepus,
under
Pandarus.
4.
Adrestia, Apaesus, Pityea,
Mount
Teree,
under
Adrastus
and
Amphius.
Sestos, Abydos, Arisbe
on the River
Selle, Percote
and
Practius,
under
Asius.
These Places lay between
Troy
and the
Propontis.
The other three Dynasties were under
Mynes, Eetion,
and
Alteus,
the Capital of the first was
Lyrnessus,
of the second
Thebe
of
Cilicia,
of the third
Pedasus,
in
Lelegia. Homer
does not mention these in the Catalogue, having been before destroy'd and depopulated by the
Greeks.
The Auxiliar Nations.
The
Pelasgi,
under
Hippothous
and
Pyleus,
whose Capital was
Larissa,
near the Place where
Cuma
was afterwards built.
Strab. l.
13.
The
Thracians,
by the side of the
Hellespont
opposite to
Troy,
under
Acamas
and
Pyrous,
and those of
Ciconia,
under
Euphemus.
The
Poeonians
from
Macedonia
and the River
Axius,
under
Pyrechmes.
The
Paphlagonians,
under
Pylaemeneus.
The
Halizonians,
under
Odius
and
Epistrophus.
The
Mysians,
under
Cromis
and
Ennomus.
The
Phrygians
of
Ascania,
under
Phorcys
and
Ascanius.
The
Maeonians,
under
Mestles
and
Antiphus,
who inhabited under the Mountain
Tmolus.
The
Carians,
under
Naustes
and
Amphimachus,
from
Miletus,
the farthermost City of
Caria
toward the South.
Herodot. lib.
1.
Mycale,
a Mountain and Promontory opposite to
Samos. Ibid.
Pthiron,
the same Mountain as
Latmos,
according to
Hecataeus.
The
Lycians,
under
Sarpedon
and
Glaucus,
from the Banks of the River
Xanthus,
which runs into the Sea betwixt
Rhodes
and
Cyprus. Homer
mentions it to distinguish this
Lycia
from that which lies on the
Propontis.
THE THIRD BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The ARGUMENT.
The Duel of
Menelaus
and
Paris.
THE Armies being ready to engage, a single Combate is agreed upon between
Menelaus
and
Paris
(by the Intervention of
Hector
) for the Determination of the War.
Iris
is sent to call
Helena
to behold the Fight. She leads her to the Walls of
Troy,
where
Priam
sate with his Counsellors observing the
Graecian
Leaders on the Plain below, to whom
Helen
gives an Account of the chief of them. The Kings on either Part take the solemn Oath for the Conditions of the Combate. The Duel ensues, wherein
Paris
being overcome is snatch'd away in a Cloud by
Venus,
and transported to his Apartment. She then calls
Helen
from the Walls, and brings the Lovers together.
Agamemnon
on the Part of the
Graecians,
demands the Restoration of
Helen,
and the Performance of the Articles.
The three and twentieth Day still continues throughout this Book. The
Scene
is sometimes in the
Fields
before
Troy,
and sometimes in
Troy
itself.
THE THIRD BOOK. OF THE ILIAD.
THUS by their Leader's Care each martial Band
Moves into Ranks, and stretches o'er the Land.
With Shouts the
Trojans
rushing from afar
Proclaim their Motions, and provoke the War:
So when inclement Winters vex the Plain
With piercing Frosts, or thick-descending Rain,
To warmer Seas the Cranes embody'd fly,
With Noise, and Order, thro' the mid-way Sky;
To Pygmy-Nations Wounds and Death they bring,
And all the War descends upon the Wing.
But silent, breathing Rage, resolv'd, and skill'd
By mutual Aids to fix a doubtful Field,
Swift march the
Greeks:
the rapid Dust around
Dark'ning arises from the labour'd Ground.
Thus from his flaggy Wings when
Notus
sheds
A Night of Vapors round the Mountain-Heads,
Swift-gliding Mists the dusky Fields invade,
To Thieves more grateful than the Midnight Shade;
While scarce the Swains their feeding Flocks survey,
Lost and confus'd amidst the thicken'd Day:
So wrapt in gath'ring Dust, the
Grecian
Train
A moving Cloud, swept on, and hid the Plain.
Now Front to Front the hostile Armies stand,
Eager of Fight, and only wait Command:
When, to the Van, before the Sons of Fame
Whom
Troy
sent forth, the beauteous
Paris
came:
In Form a God! the Panther's speckled Hyde
Flow'd o'er his Armour with an easy Pride,
His bended Bow a-cross his Shoulders flung,
His Sword beside him negligently hung,
Two pointed Spears he shook with gallant Grace,
And dar'd the Bravest of the
Grecian
Race.
As thus with glorious Air and proud Disdain,
He boldly stalk'd, the foremost on the Plain,
Him
Menelaus,
lov'd of
Mars,
espies,
With Heart elated, and with joyful Eyes:
So joys a Lion if the branching Deer
Or Mountain Goat, his bulky Prize, appear;
In vain the Youths oppose, the Mastives bay,
The Lordly Savage rends the panting Prey.
Thus fond of Vengeance, with a furious Bound,
In clanging Arms he leaps upon the Ground
From his high Chariot: Him, approaching near,
The beauteous Champion views with Marks of Fear,
Smit with a conscious Sense, retires behind,
And shuns the Fate he well deserv'd to find.
As when some Shepherd from the rustling Trees
Shot forth to View, a scaly Serpent sees;
Trembling and pale, he starts with wild Affright,
And all confus'd, precipitates his Flight.
So from the King the shining Warrior flies,
And plung'd amid the thickest
Trojans
lies.
As Godlike
Hector
sees the Prince retreat,
He thus upbraids him with a gen'rous Heat.
Unhappy
Paris!
but to Women brave,
So fairly form'd, and only to deceive!
Oh had'st thou dy'd when first thou saw'st the Light,
Or dy'd at least before thy Nuptial Rite!
A better Fate, than vainly thus to boast,
And fly, the Scandal of thy
Trojan
Host.
Gods! how the scornful
Greeks
exult to see
Their Fears of Danger undeceiv'd in thee!
Thy Figure promis'd with a martial Air,
But ill thy Soul supplies a Form so fair.
In former Days, in all thy gallant Pride,
When thy tall Ships triumphant stem'd the Tide,
When
Greece
beheld thy painted Canvas flow,
And Crowds stood wond'ring at the passing Show;
Say, was it thus, with such a baffled Mien,
You met th' Approaches of the
Spartan
Queen,
Thus from her Realm convey'd the beauteous Prize,
And
Theseus
and
Menelaus.
both her warlike Lords outshin'd in
Helen
's Eyes?
This Deed, thy Foes Delight, thy own Disgrace,
Thy Father's Grief, and Ruin of thy Race;
This Deed recalls thee to the proffer'd Fight;
Or hast thou injur'd whom thou dar'st not right?
Soon to thy Cost the Field wou'd make thee know
Thou keep'st the Consort of a braver Foe.
Thy graceful Form instilling soft Desire,
Thy curling Tresses, and thy silver Lyre,
Beauty and Youth, in vain to these you trust,
When Youth and Beauty shall be laid in Dust:
Troy
yet may wake, and one avenging Blow
Crush the dire Author of his Country's Woe.
His Silence here, with Blushes,
Paris
breaks;
'Tis just, my Brother, what your Anger speaks:
But who like thee can boast a Soul sedate,
So firmly Proof to all the Shocks of Fate?
Thy Force like Steel a temper'd Hardness shows,
Still edg'd to wound, and still untir'd with Blows,
Like Steel, uplifted by some strenuous Swain,
With falling Woods to strow the wasted Plain.
Thy Gifts I praise, nor thou despise the Charms
With which a Lover golden
Venus
arms;
Soft moving Speech, and pleasing outward Show,
No Wish can gain 'em, but the Gods bestow.
Yet, wou'd'st thou have the proffer'd Combate stand,
The
Greeks
and
Trojans
seat on either Hand;
Then let a mid-way Space our Hosts divide,
And, on that Stage of War, the Cause be try'd:
By
Paris
there the
Spartan
King be fought,
For beauteous
Helen
and the Wealth she brought;
And who his Rival can in Arms subdue,
His be the Fair, and his the Treasure too.
Thus with a lasting League your Toils may cease,
And
Troy
possess her fertile Fields in Peace;
Thus may the
Greeks
review their native Shore,
Much fam'd for gen'rous Steeds, for Beauty more.
He said. The Challenge
Hector
heard with Joy,
Then with his Spear restrain'd the Youth of
Troy,
Held by the midst, athwart; and near the Foe
Advanc'd with Steps majestically slow.
While round his dauntless Head the
Grecians
pour
Their Stones and Arrows in a mingled Show'r.
Then thus the Monarch great
Atrides
cry'd;
Forbear ye Warriors! lay the Darts aside:
A Parley
Hector
asks, a Message bears;
We know him by the various Plume he wears.
Aw'd by his high Command the
Greeks
attend,
The Tumult silence, and the Fight suspend.
While from the Centre
Hector
rolls his Eyes
On either Host, and thus to both applies.
Hear, all ye
Trojans,
all ye
Grecian
Bands!
What
Paris,
Author of the War, demands.
Your shining Swords within the Sheath restrain,
And pitch your Lances in the yielding Plain.
Here, in the midst, in either Army's sight,
He dares the
Spartan
King to single Fight;
And wills, that
Helen
and the ravish'd Spoil
That caus'd the Contest, shall reward the Toil.
Let these the brave triumphant Victor grace,
And diff'ring Nations part in Leagues of Peace.
He spoke: in still Suspense on either side
Each Army stood: The
Spartan
Chief reply'd.
Me too ye Warriors hear, whose fatal Right
A World engages in the Toils of Fight.
To me the Labour of the Field resign;
Me
Paris
injur'd; all the War be mine.
Fall he that must beneath his Rival's Arms,
And live the rest secure of future Harms.
Two Lambs, devoted by your Country's Rite,
To
Earth
a sable, to the
Sun
a white,
Prepare ye
Trojans!
while a third we bring
Select to
Jove,
th' Inviolable King.
Let rev'rend
Priam
in the Truce engage,
And add the Sanction of consid'rate Age;
His Sons are faithless, headlong in Debate,
And Youth itself an empty wav'ring State:
Cool Age advances venerably wise,
Turns on all hands its deep-discerning Eyes;
Sees what befell, and what may yet befall;
Concludes from both, and best provides for all.
The Nations hear, with rising Hopes possest,
And peaceful Prospects dawn in ev'ry Breast.
Within the Lines they drew their Steeds around,
And from their Chariots issu'd on the Ground:
Next all unbuckling the rich Mail they wore,
Lay'd their bright Arms along the sable Shore.
On either side the meeting Hosts are seen,
With Lances fix'd, and close the Space between.
Two Heralds now dispatch'd to
Troy,
invite
The
Phrygian
Monarch to the Peaceful Rite;
Talthybius
hastens to the Fleet, to bring
The Lamb for
Jove
th' Inviolable King.
Meantime, to beauteous
Helen
from the Skies
The various Goddess of the Rain-bow flies:
(Like fair
Laodicè
in Form and Face,
The loveliest Nymph of
Priam
's Royal Race)
Her in the Palace, at her Loom she found;
The golden Web her own sad Story crown'd,
The
Trojan
Wars she weav'd (herself the Prize)
And the dire Triumphs of her fatal Eyes.
To whom the Goddess of the painted Bow;
Approach, and view the wond'rous Scene below!
Each hardy
Greek
and valiant
Trojan
Knight,
So dreadful late, and furious for the Fight,
Now rest their Spears, or lean upon their Shields;
Ceas'd is the War, and silent all the Fields.
Paris
alone and
Sparta
's King advance,
In single Fight to toss the beamy Lance;
Each met in Arms the Fate of Combate tries,
Thy Love the Motive, and thy Charms the Prize.
This said, the many-colour'd Maid inspires
Her Husband's Love, and wakes her former Fires;
Her Country, Parents, all that once were dear,
Rush to her Thought, and force a tender Tear.
O'er her fair Face a snowy Veil she threw,
And, softly sighing, from the Loom withdrew.
Her Handmaids
Clymenè
and
Aethra
wait
Her silent Footsteps to the
Scaean
Gate.
There sate the Seniors of the
Trojan
Race,
(Old
Priam
's Chiefs, and most in
Priam
's Grace)
The King the first;
Thymaetes
at his side;
Lampus
and
Clytius,
long in Council try'd;
Panthus,
and
Hicetäon,
once the strong,
And next the wisest of the Rev'rend Throng,
Antenor
grave, and sage
Ucalegon,
Lean'd on the Walls, and bask'd before the Sun.
Chiefs, who no more in bloody Fights engage,
But Wise thro' Time, and Narrative with Age,
In Summer-Days like Grashoppers rejoice,
A bloodless Race, that send a feeble Voice.
These, when the
Spartan
Queen approach'd the Tow'r,
In secret own'd resistless Beauty's Pow'r:
They cry'd, No wonder such Celestial Charms
For nine long Years have set the World in Arms;
What winning Graces! what majestick Mien!
She moves a Goddess, and she looks a Queen!
Yet hence oh Heav'n! convey that fatal Face,
And from Destruction save the
Trojan
Race.
The good old
Priam
welcom'd her, and cry'd,
Approach my Child, and grace thy Father's Side.
See on the Plain thy
Grecian
Spouse appears,
The Friends and Kindred of thy former Years.
No Crime of thine our present Suff'rings draws,
Not Thou, but Heav'ns disposing Will, the Cause;
The Gods these Armies and this Force employ,
The hostile Gods conspire the Fate of
Troy.
But lift thy Eyes, and say, What
Greek
is He
(Far as from hence these aged Orbs can see)
Around whose Brow such martial Graces shine,
So tall, so awful, and almost Divine?
Tho' some of larger Stature tread the Green,
None match his Grandeur and exalted Mien:
He seems a Monarch, and his Country's Pride.
Thus ceas'd the King, and thus the Fair reply'd.
Before thy Presence, Father, I appear
With conscious Shame and reverential Fear.
Ah! had I dy'd, e're to these Walls I fled,
False to my Country and my Nuptial Bed,
My Brothers, Friends, and Daughter left behind,
False to them all, to
Paris
only kind!
For this I mourn, 'till Grief or dire Disease
Shall waste the Form whose Crime it was to please!
The King of Kings,
Atrides,
you survey,
Great in the War, and great in Arts of Sway.
My Brother once, before my Days of Shame;
And oh! that still he bore a Brother's Name!
With Wonder
Priam
view'd the Godlike Man,
Extoll'd the happy Prince, and thus began.
O blest
Atrides!
born to prosp'rous Fate,
Successful Monarch of a mighty State!
How vast thy Empire? Of yon' matchless Train
What Numbers lost, what Numbers yet remain?
In
Phrygia
once were gallant Armies known,
In ancient Time, when
Otreus'
fill'd the Throne,
When Godlike
Mygdon
led their Troops of Horse,
And I, to join them, rais'd the
Trojan
Force:
Against the Manlike
Amazons
we stood,
And
Sangar
's Stream ran purple with their Blood.
But far inferior those, in manly Grace
And Strength of Numbers, to this
Grecian
Race.
This said, once more he view'd the martial Train:
What's He, whose Arms lie scatter'd on the Plain?
Broad is his Breast, his Shoulders larger spread,
Tho' great
Atrides
overtops his Head.
Nor yet appear his Care and Conduct small;
From Rank to Rank he moves, and orders all.
The stately Ram thus measures o'er the Ground,
And, Master of the Flocks, surveys them round.
Then
Helen
thus. Whom your discerning Eyes
Have singled out, is
Ithacus
the Wife:
A barren Island boasts his glorious Birth;
His Fame for Wisdom fills the spacious Earth.
Antenor
took the Word, and thus began:
My self, O King! have seen that wondrous Man;
When trusting
Jove
and hospitable Laws,
To
Troy
he came, to plead the
Grecian
Cause;
(Great
Menelaus
urg'd the same Request)
My House was honour'd with each Royal Guest:
I knew their Persons, and admir'd their Parts,
Both brave in Arms, and both approv'd in Arts.
Erect, the
Spartan
most engag'd our View,
Ulysses
seated, greater Rev'rence drew.
When
Atreus'
Son harangu'd the list'ning Train,
Just was his Sense, and his Expression plain,
His Words succinct, yet full, without a Fault;
He spoke no more than just the Thing he ought.
But when
Ulysses
rose, in Thought profound,
His modest Eyes he fix'd upon the Ground,
As one unskill'd or dumb, he seem'd to stand,
Nor rais'd his Head, nor stretch'd his sceptred Hand;
But, when he speaks, what Elocution flows!
Soft as the Fleeces of descending Snows
The copious Accents fall, with easy Art;
Melting they fall, and sink into the Heart!
Wond'ring we hear, and fix'd in deep Surprize
Our Ears refute the Censure of our Eyes.
The King then ask'd (as yet the Camp he view'd)
What Chief is that with Giant Strength endu'd,
Whose brawny Shoulders, and whose swelling Chest,
And lofty Stature far exceed the rest?
Ajax
the great (the beauteous Queen reply'd)
Himself an Host: the
Grecian
Strength and Pride.
See! bold
Idomeneus
superior tow'rs
Amidst yon' Circle of his
Cretan
Pow'rs,
Great as a God! I saw him once before,
With
Menelaus,
on the
Spartan
Shore.
The rest I know, and could in Order name;
All valiant Chiefs, and Men of mighty Fame.
Yet two are wanting of the num'rous Train,
Whom long my Eyes have sought, but sought in vain;
Castor
and
Pollux,
first in martial Force,
One bold on Foot, and one renown'd for Horse.
My Brothers these; the same our native Shore,
One House contain'd us, as one Mother bore.
Perhaps the Chiefs, from warlike Toils at ease,
For distant
Troy
refus'd to sail the Seas:
Perhaps their Sword some nobler Quarrel draws,
Asham'd to combate in their Sister's Cause.
So spoke the Fair, nor knew her Brothers Doom,
Wrapt in the cold Embraces of the Tomb;
Adorn'd with Honours in their native Shore,
Silent they slept, and heard of Wars no more.
Meantime the Heralds, thro' the crowded Town,
Bring the rich Wine and destin'd Victims down.
Idaeus'
Arms the golden Goblets prest,
Who thus the venerable King addrest.
Arise, O Father of the
Trojan
State!
The Nations call, thy joyful People wait,
To seal the Truce and end the dire Debate.
Paris
thy Son, and
Sparta
's King advance,
In measur'd Lists to toss the weighty Lance;
And who his Rival shall in Arms subdue,
His be the Dame, and his the Treasure too.
Thus with a lasting League our Toils may cease,
And
Troy
possess her fertile Fields in Peace;
So shall the
Greeks
review their native Shore,
Much fam'd for gen'rous Steeds, for Beauty more.
With Grief he heard, and bade the Chiefs prepare
To join his milk-white Coursers to the Car:
He mounts the Seat,
Antenor
at his side;
The gentle Steeds thro'
Scaea
's Gates they guide:
Next from the Car descending on the Plain,
Amid the
Grecian
Host and
Trojan
Train
Slow they proceed: The sage
Ulysses
then
Arose, and with him rose the King of Men.
On either side a sacred Herald stands,
The Wine they mix, and on each Monarch's Hands
Pour the full Urn; Then drew the
Grecian
Lord
His Cutlace sheath'd beside his pondrous Sword.
From the sign'd Victims crops the curling Hair,
The Heralds part it, and the Princes share;
Then loudly thus before th' attentive Bands
He calls the Gods, and spreads his lifted Hands.
O first and greatest Pow'r! whom all obey,
Who high on
Ida
's holy Mountain sway,
Eternal
Jove!
and you bright Orb that roll
From East to West, and view from Pole to Pole!
Thou Mother
Earth!
and all ye living
Floods!
Infernal
Furies,
and
Tartarean
Gods,
Who rule the Dead, and horrid Woes prepare
For perjur'd Kings, and all who falsely swear!
Hear, and be Witness. If, by
Paris
slain,
Great
Menelaus
press the fatal Plain;
The Dame and Treasures let the
Trojan
keep,
And
Greece
returning plow the watry Deep.
If by my Brother's Lance the
Trojan
bleed;
Be his the Wealth and beauteous Dame decreed:
Th' appointed Fine let
Ilion
justly pay,
And ev'ry Age record the signal Day.
This if the
Phrygians
shall refuse to yield,
Arms must revenge, and
Mars
decide the Field.
With that, the Chief the tender Victims slew,
And in the Dust their bleeding Bodies threw,
The vital Spirit issu'd at the Wound,
And left the Members quiv'ring on the Ground.
From the same Urn they drink the mingled Wine,
And add Libations to the Pow'rs Divine.
While thus their Pray'rs united mount the Sky;
Hear mighty
Jove!
and hear ye Gods on high!
And may their Blood who first the League confound,
Shed like this Wine, distain the thirsty Ground;
May all their Consorts serve promiscuous Lust,
And all their Race be scatter'd as the Dust!
Thus either Host their Imprecations join'd,
Which
Jove
refus'd, and mingled with the Wind.
The Rites now finish'd, rev'rend
Priam
rose,
And thus express'd a Heart o'ercharg'd with Woes.
Ye
Greeks
and
Trojans,
let the Chiefs engage,
But spare the Weakness of my feeble Age:
In yonder Walls that Object let me shun,
Nor view the Danger of so dear a Son.
Whose Arms shall conquer, and what Prince shall fall,
Heav'n only knows, for Heav'n disposes all.
This said, the hoary King no longer stay'd,
But on his Car the slaughter'd Victims laid,
Then seiz'd the Reins his gentle Steeds to guide,
And drove to
Troy, Antenor
at his Side.
Bold
Hector
and
Ulysses
now dispose
The Lists of Combate, and the Ground inclose;
Next to decide by sacred Lots prepare,
Who first shall launce his pointed Spear in Air.
The People pray with elevated Hands,
And Words like these are heard thro' all the Bands.
Immortal
Jove!
high Heav'n's superior Lord,
On lofty
Ida
's holy Mount ador'd!
Whoe'er involv'd us in this dire Debate,
Oh give that Author of the War to Fate,
And Shades Eternal! Let Division cease,
And joyful Nations join in Leagues of Peace.
With Eyes averted
Hector
hasts to turn
The Lots of Fight, and shakes the brazen Urn.
Then
Paris,
thine leap'd forth, by fatal Chance
Ordain'd the first to whirl the weighty Lance.
Both Armies sate, the Combate to survey,
Beside each Chief his Azure Armour lay,
And round the Lists the gen'rous Coursers neigh.
The beauteous Warrior now arrays for Fight,
In gilded Arms magnificently bright:
The Purple Cuishes clasp his Thighs around,
With Flow'rs adorn'd, and silver Buckles bound:
Lycaon
's Cors'let his fair Body drest,
Brac'd in, and fitted to his softer Breast;
A radiant Baldric, o'er his Shoulder ty'd,
Sustains the Sword that glitters at his side.
His youthful Face a polish'd Helm o'erspread;
The waving Horse-hair nodded on his Head.
His figur'd Shield, a shining Orb, he takes,
And in his Hand a pointed Jav'lin shakes.
With equal Speed, and fir'd by equal Charms,
The
Spartan
Hero sheaths his Limbs in Arms.
Now round the Lists th' admiring Armies stand,
With Jav'lins fix'd, the
Greek
and
Trojan
Band.
Amidst the dreadful Vale the Chiefs advance,
All pale with Rage, and shake the threat'ning Lance.
The
Trojan
first his shining Jav'lin threw;
Full on
Atrides'
ringing Shield it flew,
Nor pierc'd the brazen Orb, but with a Bound
Leap'd from the Buckler blunted on the Ground.
Atrides
then his massy Lance prepares,
In Act to throw, but first prefers his Pray'rs.
Give me, great
Jove!
to punish lawless Lust,
And lay the
Trojan
gasping in the Dust:
Destroy th' Aggressor, aid my righteous Cause,
Avenge the Breach of hospitable Laws!
Let this Example future Times reclaim,
And guard from Wrong fair Friendship's holy Name.
He said, and poiz'd in Air the Jav'lin sent,
Thro'
Paris'
Shield the forceful Weapon went,
His Cors'let pierces, and his Garment rends,
And glancing downward, near his Flank descends.
The wary
Trojan,
bending from the Blow,
Eludes his Death, and disappoints the Foe:
But fierce
Atrides
wav'd his Sword and strook
Full on his Casque; the crested Helmet shook;
The brittle Steel, unfaithful to his Hand,
Broke short: the Fragments glitter'd on the Sand.
The raging Warrior to the spacious Skies
Rais'd his upbraiding Voice, and angry Eyes:
Then is it vain in
Jove
himself to trust?
And is it thus the Gods assist the Just?
When Crimes provoke us, Heav'n Success denies;
The Dart falls harmless, and the Faulchion flies.
Furious he said, and tow'rd the
Grecian
Crew
(Seiz'd by the Crest) th' unhappy Warrior drew;
Struggling he follow'd, while th' embroider'd Thong
That ty'd his Helmet, dragg'd the Chief along.
Then had his Ruin crown'd
Atrides'
Joy,
But
Venus
trembl'd for the Price of
Troy:
Unseen she came, and burst the golden Band;
And left an empty Helmet in his Hand.
The Casque, enrag'd, amidst the
Greeks
he threw;
The
Greeks
with Smiles the polish'd Trophy view.
Then, as once more he lifts the deadly Dart,
In Thirst of Vengeance, at his Rival's Heart,
The Queen of Love her favour'd Champion shrouds
(For Gods can all things) in a Veil of Clouds.
Rais'd from the Field the panting Youth she led,
And gently laid him on the Bridal Bed,
With pleasing Sweets his fainting Sense renews,
And all the Dome perfumes with Heav'nly Dews.
Meantime the brightest of the Female Kind,
The matchless
Helen
o'er the Walls reclin'd:
To her, beset with
Trojan
Beauties, came
In
Groea
's Form, the
Venus.
Laughter-loving Dame.
(
Groea,
her Fav'rite Maid, well-skill'd to cull
The snowie Fleece, and wind the twisted Wool.)
The Goddess softly shook her silken Vest
That shed Perfumes, and whisp'ring thus addrest.
Haste, happy Nymph! for thee thy
Paris
calls,
Safe from the Fight, in yonder lofty Walls,
Fair as a God with Odours round him spread
He lies, and waits thee on the well-known Bed:
Not like a Warrior parted from the Foe,
But some gay Dancer in the publick Show.
She spoke, and
Helen
's secret Soul was mov'd;
She scorn'd the Champion, but the Man she lov'd.
Fair
Venus'
Neck, her Eyes that sparkled Fire,
And Breast, reveal'd the Queen of soft Desire.
Struck with her Presence, strait the lively Red
Forsook her Cheek; and, trembling, thus she said.
Then is it still thy Pleasure to deceive?
And Woman's Frailty always to believe?
Say, to new Nations must I cross the Main,
Or carry Wars to some soft
Asian
Plain?
For whom must
Helen
break her second Vow?
What other
Paris
is thy Darling now?
Left to
Atrides,
(Victor in the Strife)
An odious Conquest and a Captive Wife,
Hence let me sail: And if thy
Paris
bear
My Absence ill, let
Venus
ease his Care.
A Hand-maid Goddess at his Side to wait,
Renounce the Glories of thy Heav'nly State,
Be fix'd for ever to the
Trojan
Shore,
His Spouse, or Slave; and mount the Skies no more.
For me, to lawless Love no longer led,
I scorn the Coward, and detest his Bed;
Else should I merit everlasting Shame,
And keen Reproach, from ev'ry
Phrygian
Dame:
Ill suits it now the Joys of Love to know,
Too deep my Anguish, and too wild my Woe.
Then thus, incens'd, the
Paphian
Queen replies;
Obey the Pow'r from whom thy Glories rise:
Should
Venus
leave thee, ev'ry Charm must fly,
Fade from thy Cheek, and languish in thy Eye.
Cease to provoke me, lest I make thee more
The World's Aversion, than their Love before;
Now the bright Prize for which Mankind engage,
Then, the sad Victim of the Publick Rage.
At this, the Fairest of her Sex obey'd,
And veil'd her Blushes in a silken Shade;
Unseen, and silent, from the Train she moves,
Led by the Goddess of the Smiles and Loves.
Arriv'd, and enter'd at the Palace Gate,
The Maids officious round their Mistress wait,
Then all dispersing, various Tasks attend;
The Queen and Goddess to the Prince ascend.
Full in her
Paris'
Sight the Queen of Love
Had plac'd the beauteous Progeny of
Jove;
Where, as he view'd her Charms, she turn'd away
Her glowing Eyes, and thus began to say.
Is this the Chief, who lost to Sense of Shame
Late fled the Field, and yet survives his Fame?
Oh hadst thou dy'd beneath the righteous Sword
Of that brave Man whom once I call'd my Lord!
The Boaster
Paris
oft' desir'd the Day
With
Sparta
's King to meet in single Fray:
Go now, once more thy Rival's Rage excite,
Provoke
Atrides
and renew the Fight:
Yet
Helen
bids thee stay, lest thou unskill'd
Should'st fall an easy Conquest on the Field.
The Prince replies; Ah cease, divinely fair,
Nor add Reproaches to the Wounds I bear,
This Day the Foe prevail'd by
Pallas'
Pow'r;
We yet may vanquish in a happier Hour:
There want not Gods to favour us above;
But let the Business of our Life be Love:
These softer Moments let Delights employ,
And kind Embraces snatch the hasty Joy.
Not thus I lov'd thee, when from
Sparta
's Shore
My forc'd, my willing Heav'nly Prize I bore,
When first entranc'd in
Cranaë
's Isle I lay,
Mix'd with thy Soul, and all dissolv'd away.
Thus having spoke, th' enamour'd
Phrygian
Boy
Rush'd to the Bed, impatient for the Joy.
Him
Helen
follow'd slow with bashful Charms,
And clasp'd the blooming Hero in her Arms.
While these to Love's delicious Rapture yield,
The stern
Atrides
rages round the Field:
So some fell Lion whom the Woods obey,
Roars thro' the Desart, and demands his Prey.
Paris
he seeks, impatient to destroy,
But seeks in vain along the Troops of
Troy;
Ev'n those had yielded to a Foe so brave
The recreant Warrior, hateful as the Grave.
Then speaking thus the King of Kings arose;
Ye
Trojans, Dardans,
all our gen'rous Foes!
Hear and attest! From Heav'n with Conquest crown'd,
Our Brother's Arms the just Success have found:
Be therefore now the
Spartan
Wealth restor'd,
Let
Argive Helen
own her lawful Lord,
Th' appointed Fine let
Ilion
justly pay,
And Age to Age record this signal Day.
He ceas'd; His Army's just Applauses rise,
And the long Shout runs ecchoing thro' the Skies.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE Third Book.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE THIRD BOOK.
OF all the Books of the
Iliad,
there is scarce any more pleasing than the Third. It may be divided into five Parts, each of which has a Beauty different from the other. The first contains what pass'd before the two Armies, and the Proposal of the Combate between
Paris
and
Menelaus:
The Attention and Suspense of these mighty Hosts, which were just upon the Point of joining Battel, and the lofty manner of offering and accepting this important and unexpected Challenge, have something in them wonderfully pompous and of an amusing Solemnity. The second Part which describes the Behaviour of
Helena
in this Juncture, her Conference with the old King and his Counsellors, with the Review of the Heroes from the Battelments, is an Episode entirely of another sort, which excels in the Natural and Pathetick. The third consists of the Ceremonies of the Oath on both sides and the Preliminaries to the Combate; with the beautiful Retreat of
Priam,
who in the Tenderness of a Parent withdraws from the sight of the Duel: These Particulars detain the Reader in Expectation, and heighten his Impatience for the Fight itself. The fourth is the Description of the Duel, an exact Piece of Painting where we see every Attitude, Motion, and Action of the Combatants particularly and distinctly, and which concludes with a surprizing Propriety, in the rescue of
Paris
by
Venus.
The Machine of that Goddess which makes the fifth Part, and whose End is to reconcile
Paris
and
Helena,
is admirable in every Circumstance; The Remonstrance she holds with the Goddess, the Reluctance with which she obeys her, the Reproaches she casts upon
Paris,
and the Flattery and Courtship with which he so soon wins her over to him.
Helen
(the main Cause of this War) was not to be made an odious Character; She is drawn by this great Master with the finest Strokes, as a frail, but not an abandon'd Creature. She has perpetual Struggles of Virtue on the one side, and Softnesses which overcome them on the other. Our Author has been remarkably careful to tell us this; whenever he but slightly names her in the foregoing Part of his Work she is represented at the same time as repentant; and it is thus we see her at large at her first Appearance in the present Book, which is one of the shortest of the whole
Iliad,
but in recompence has Beauties almost in every Line, and most of them so obvious that to acknowledge them we need only to read them.
I.
VERSE 3.
With Shouts the
Trojans.]
The Book begins with a fine Opposition of the Noise of the
Trojan
Army to the Silence of the
Graecians.
It was but natural to imagine this, since the former was compos'd of many different Nations, of various Languages and Strangers to each other; the latter were more united in their Neighbourhood, and under Leaders of the same Country. But as this Observation seems particularly insisted upon by our Author (for he uses it again in the fourth Book, ℣. 430.) so he had a farther Reason for it.
Plutarch
in his Treatise of reading the Poets, remarks upon this Distinction, as a particular Credit to the military Discipline of the
Greeks.
And several ancient Authors tell us, it was the Manner of the
Barbarians
to encounter with Shouts and Outcries; as it continues to this Day the Custom of the Eastern Nations. Perhaps these Clamours were only to encourage their Men, instead of martial Instruments. I think Sir
Walter Raleigh
says, there never was a People but made use of some sort of Musick in Battel:
Homer
never mentions any in the
Greek
or
Trojan
Armies, and it is scarce to be imagined he would omit a Circumstance so poetical without some particular Reason. The Verb
which the modern
Greeks
have since appropriated to the sound of a Trumpet, is used indifferently in our Author for other Sounds, as for Thunder in the the 21
st Iliad,
℣. 388.
—. He once names the Trumpet
in a
Simile,
upon which
Eustathius
and
Didymus
observe that the use of it was known in the Poet's Time, but not in that of the
Trojan
War. And hence we may infer that
Homer
was particularly careful not to confound the Manners of the Times he wrote of, with those of the Times he liv'd in.
II.
VERSE 7.
The Cranes embody'd fly.
]
If Wit has been truly describ'd to be a Similitude in Ideas, and is more excellent as that Similitude is more surprizing; there cannot be a truer kind of Wit than what is shewn in apt Comparisons, especially when composed of such Subjects as having the least Relation to each other in general, have yet some Particular that agrees exactly. Of this Nature is the Simile of the
Cranes
to the
Trojan
Army, where the Fancy of
Homer
flew to the remotest Part of the World for an Image which no Reader could have expected. But it is no less exact than surprizing. The Likeness consists in two Points, the
Noise
and the
Order;
the latter is so observable as to have given some of the Ancients occasion to imagine the embatteling of an Army was first learn'd from the close manner of Flight of these Birds. But this Part of the Simile not being directly express'd by the Author, has been overlook'd by some of the Commentators. It may be remark'd that
Homer
has generally a wonderful Closeness in all the Particulars of his Comparisons, notwithstanding he takes a Liberty in his Expression of them. He seems so secure of the main Likeness, that he makes no scruple to play with the Circumstances; sometimes by transposing the Order of them, sometimes by super-adding them, and sometimes (as in this Place) by neglecting them in such a manner as to leave the Reader to supply them himself. For the present Comparison, it has been taken by
Virgil
in the tenth Book, and apply'd to the Clamours of Soldiers in the same manner.
—Quales sub nubibus atris
Strymoniae dant signa grues, atque aethera tranant
Cum sonitu, fugiuntque Notos clamore secundo.
III.
VERSE 26.
The beauteous
Paris
came, In Form a God.
]
This is meant by the Epithet
, as has been said in the 24
th
Note on the first Book. The Picture here given of
Paris
's Air and Dress, is exactly correspondent to his Character; you see him endeavouring to mix the fine Gentleman with the Warriour; and this Idea of him
Homer
takes care to keep up, by describing him not without the same Regard when he is arming to encounter
Menelaus
afterwards in a close Fight, as he shews here where he is but preluding and flourishing in the Gaiety of his Heart. And when he tells us in that Place that he was in danger of being strangled by the Strap of his Helmet, he takes notice that it was
,
embroider'd.
IV.
VERSE 37.
So joys a Lion if the branching Deer, Or Mountain Goat.
]
The old Scholiasts refining on this Simile will have it that
Paris
is compar'd to a Goat on account of his Incontinence, and to a Stag for his Cowardice: To this last they make an Addition which is very ludicrous, that he is also liken'd to a Deer for his
Skill in Musick,
and cite
Aristotle
to prove that Animal delights in Harmony, which Opinion is alluded to by Mr.
Waller
in these Lines,
Here Love takes stand, and while she charms the Ear
Empties his Quiver on the list'ning Deer.
But upon the whole, it is whimsical to imagine this Comparison consists in any thing more, than the Joy which
Menelaus
conceiv'd at the sight of his Rival, in the hopes of destroying him. It is equally an Injustice to
Paris,
to abuse him for understanding Musick, and to represent his Retreat as purely the Effect of Fear, which proceeded from his Sense of Guilt with respect to the particular Person of
Menelaus.
He appear'd at the Head of the Army to challenge the boldest of the Enemy: Nor is his Character elsewhere in the
Iliad
by any means that of a Coward.
Hector
at the end of the sixth Book confesses, that no Man could justly reproach him as such. Nor is he represented so by
Ovid
(who copy'd
Homer
very closely) in the end of his Epistle to
Helen.
The Moral of
Homer
is much finer: A brave Mind however blinded with Passion is sensible of Remorse as soon as the injur'd Object presents itself; and
Paris
never behaves himself ill in War, but when his Spirits are depress'd by the Consciousness of an Injustice. This also will account for the seeming Incongruity of
Homer
in this Passage, who (as they would have us think) paints him a shameful Coward, at the same time that he is perpetually calling him
the divine Paris,
and
Paris like a God.
What he says immediately afterwards in answer to
Hector
's Reproof, will make this yet more clear.
V.
VERSE 47.
As when a Shepherd.
]
This Comparison of the Serpent is finely imitated by
Virgil
in the second
Aeneid.
Improvisum aspris veluti qui sentibus anguem
Pressit humi nitens, trepidus
que
repentè refugit
Attollentem iras, & caerula colla tumentem:
Haud secus Androgeus visu tremefaclus abibat.
But it may be said to the Praise of
Virgil,
that he has apply'd it upon an Occasion where it has an additional Beauty.
Paris
upon the sight of
Menelaus
's Approach, is compar'd to a Traveller who sees a Snake shoot on a sudden towards him. But the Surprize and Danger of
Androgeus
is more lively, being just in the reach of his Enemies before he perceiv'd it; and the Circumstance of the Serpent's rouzing his Crest, which brightens with Anger, finely images the shining of their Arms in the Night-time, as they were just lifted up to destroy him.
Scaliger
criticizes on the needless Repetition in the Words
and
, which is avoided in the Translation. But it must be observ'd in general, that
little Exactnesses
are what we should not look for in
Homer;
the Genius of his Age was too incorrect, and his own too fiery to regard them.
VI.
VERSE 53.
As God-like
Hector.]
This is the first Place of the Poem where
Hector
makes a figure, and here it seems proper to give an Idea of his Character, since if he is not the chief Heroe of the
Iliad,
he is at least the most amiable. There are several Reasons which render
Hector
a favorite Character with every Reader, some of which shall here be offer'd. The chief Moral of
Homer
was to expose the ill Effects of Discord; the
Greeks
were to be shewn disunited, and to render that Disunion the more probable, he has designedly given them
mixt
Characters. The
Trojans
on the other hand were to be represented making all Advantages of the others Disagreement, which they could not do without a strict Union among themselves.
Hector
therefore who commanded them, must be endu'd with all such Qualifications as tended to the Preservation of it; as
Achilles
with such as promoted the contrary. The one stands in Contraste to the other, an accomplish'd Character of Valour unruffled by Rage and Anger, and uniting his People by his Prudence and Example.
Hector
has also a Foil to set him off in his own Family; we are perpetually opposing in our Minds the Incontinence of
Paris,
who exposes his Country, to the Temperance of
Hector
who protects it. And indeed it is this Love of his Country which appears his principal Passion, and the Motive of all his Actions. He has no other Blemish than that he fights in an unjust Cause, which
Homer
has yet been careful to tell us he would not do, if his Opinion were followed. But since he cannot prevail, the Affection he bears to his Parents and Kindred, and his desire of defending them, incites him to do his utmost for their Safety. We may add that
Homer
having so many
Greeks
to celebrate, makes them shine in their turns, and singly in their several Books, one succeeding in the Absence of another: Whereas
Hector
appears in every Battel the Life and Soul of his Party, and the constant Bulwark against every Enemy: He stands against
Agamemnon
's Magnanimity,
Diomed
's Bravery,
Ajax
's Strength, and
Achilles
's Fury. There is besides, an accidental Cause for our liking him from reading the Writers of the
Augustan
Age, especially
Virgil,
whose Favorite he grew more particularly from the time when the
Caesars
fancy'd to derive their Pedigree from
Troy.
VII.
VERSE 55.
Unhappy
Paris,
&c.
]
It may be observ'd in Honour of
Homer
's Judgment, that the Words which
Hector
is made to speak here, very strongly mark his Character. They contain a warm Reproach of Cowardice, and shew him to be touch'd with so high a Sense of Glory, as to think Life insupportable without it. His calling to mind the gallant Figure which
Paris
had made in his Amours to
Helen,
and opposing to it the Image of his Flight from her Husband, is a Sarcasm of the utmost Bitterness and Vivacity. After he has named that Action of the Rape, the Cause of so many Mischiefs, his insisting upon it in so many broken Periods, those disjointed Shortnesses of Speech,
(
)
That hasty manner of Expression without the Connexion of Particles, is (as
Eustathius
remarks) extreamly natural to a Man in Anger, who thinks he can never vent himself too soon. That Contempt of outward Shew, of the Gracefulness of Person, and of the Accomplishments of a Courtly Life, is what corresponds very well with the War-like Temper of
Hector;
and these Verses have therefore a Beauty here which they want in
Horace,
however admirably he has translated them, in the Ode of
Nireus's Prophecy.
Nequicquam Veneris praesidio ferox,
Pectes caesariem; grataque foeminis
Imbelli citharâ carmina divides,
&c.
VIII.
VERSE 72.
And both her Warlike Lords.
]
The Original is
.
The Spouse of Martial Men.
I wonder why Madam
Dacier
chose to turn it
Alliée à tant de braves guerriers,
since it so naturally refers to
Theseus
and
Menelaus,
the former Husbands of
Helena.
IX.
VERSE 80.
Thy curling Tresses, and thy silver Lyre.
]
It is ingeniously remark'd by
Dacier,
that
Homer
who celebrates the
Greeks
for their long Hair [
] and
Achilles
for his Skill on the Harp, makes
Hector
in this Place object them both to
Paris.
The
Greeks
nourished their Hair to appear more dreadful to the Enemy, and
Paris
to please the Eyes of Women.
Achilles
sung to his Harp the Acts of Heroes, and
Paris
the Amours of Lovers. The same reason which makes
Hector
here displeas'd at them, made
Alexander
afterwards refuse to see this Lyre of
Paris
when offer'd to be shewn to him, as
Plutarch
relates the Story in his Oration of the Fortune of
Alexander.
X.
VERSE 83.
One avenging Blow.
]
It is in the
Greek, You had been clad in a Coat of Stone. Giphanius
would have it to mean stoned to death on the account of his Adultery: But this does not appear to have been the Punishment of that Crime among the
Phrygians.
It seems rather to signify, destroy'd by the Fury of the People for the War he had brought upon them; or perhaps may imply no more than being laid in his Grave under a Monument of Stones; but the former being the stronger Sense is here followed.
XI.
VERSE 86.
'Tis just, my Brother.
]
This Speech is a farther opening of the true Character of
Paris.
He is a Master of Civility, no less well-bred to his own Sex than courtly to the other. The Reproof of
Hector
was of a severe Nature, yet he receives it as from a Brother and a Friend, with Candour and Modesty. This Answer is remarkable for its fine Address; he gives the Heroe a decent and agreeable Reproof for having too rashly depreciated the Gifts of Nature. He allows the Quality of Courage its utmost due, but desires the same Justice to those softer Accomplishments, which he lets him know are no less the Favour of Heaven. Then he removes from himself the Charge of want of Valour, by proposing the single Combate with the very Man he had just declined to engage; which having shewn him void of any Malevolence to his Rival on the one hand, he now proves himself free from the Imputation of Cowardice on the other.
Homer
draws him (as we have seen) soft of Speech, the natural Quality of an amorous Temper; vainly gay in War as well as Love; with a Spirit that can be surprized and recollected, that can receive Impressions of Shame or Apprehension on the one side, or of Generosity and Courage on the other; the usual Disposition of easy and courteous Minds which are most subject to the Rule of Fancy and Passion. Upon the whole, this is no worse than the Picture of a
gentle Knight,
and one might fancy the Heroes of the modern Romance were form'd upon the Model of
Paris.
XII.
VERSE 108.
Much fam'd for gen'rous Steeds, for Beauty more.
]
The Original is,
. Perhaps this Line is translated too close to the Letter, and the Epithets might have been omitted. But there are some Traits and Particularities of this Nature, which methinks preserve to the Reader the Air of
Homer.
At least the latter of these Circumstances, that
Greece was eminent
for beautiful Women,
seems not improper to be mention'd by him who had rais'd a War on the account of a
Grecian Beauty.
XIII.
VERSE 109.
The Challenge
Hector
heard with Joy.
]
Hector stays not to reply to his Brother, but runs away with the Challenge immediately. He looks upon all the
Trojans
as disgrac'd by the late Flight of
Paris,
and thinks not a Moment is to be lost to regain the Honour of his Country. The Activity he shews in all this Affair wonderfully agrees with the Spirit of a Soldier.
XIV.
VERSE 123.
Hear all ye
Trojan,
all ye
Grecian
Bands.
]
It has been ask'd how the different Nations could understand one another in these Conferences, since we have no mention in
Homer
of any Interpreter between them? He who was so very particular in the most minute Points, can hardly be thought to have been negligent in this. Some Reasons may be offer'd that they both spoke the same Language; for the
Trojans
(as may be seen in
Dion. Halic. lib.
1.) were of
Grecian
Extraction originally.
Dardanus
the first of their Kings was born in
Arcadia;
and even their Names were generally
Greek,
as
Hector, Anchises, Andromache, Astyanax, &c.
Of the last of these in particular
Homer
gives us a Derivation which is purely
Greek
in
Il.
6. ℣. 403. But however it be, this is no more (as
Dacier
somewhere observes) than the just Privilege of Poetry.
Aeneas
and
Turnus
understand each other in
Virgil,
and the Language of the Poet is suppos'd to be universally intelligible, not only between different Countries, but between Earth and Heaven itself.
XV.
VERSE 135.
Me too ye Warriors hear,
&c.]
We may observe what care
Homer
takes to give every one his proper Character, and how this Speech of
Menelaus
is adapted to the
Laconick;
which the better to comprehend, we may remember there are in
Homer
three Speakers of different Characters, agreeable to the three different kinds of Eloquence. These we may compare with each other in one Instance, supposing them all to use the same Heads, and in the same Order.
The Materials of the Speech are, The manifesting his Grief for the War, with the hopes that it is in his Power to end it; an Acceptance of the propos'd Challenge; an Account of the Ceremonies to be us'd in the League; and a Proposal of a proper Caution to secure it.
Now had
Nestor
these Materials to work upon, he would probably have begun with a Relation of all the Troubles of the nine Year's Siege which he hop'd he might now bring to an end; he would court their Benevolence and good Wishes for his Prosperity with all the Figures of Amplification; while he accepted the Challenge, he would have given an Example to prove that the single Combate was a wise, gallant, and gentle way of ending the War, practis'd by their Fathers; in the Description of the Rites he would be exceeding particular; and when he chose to demand the Sanction of
Priam
rather than of his Sons, he would place in Opposition on one side the Son's Action which began the War, and on the other the Impressions of Concern or Repentance which it must by this time have made in the Father's Mind, whose Wisdom he would undoubtedly extol as the effect of his Age. All this he would have expatiated upon with Connexions of the Discourses in the most evident manner, and the most easy, gliding, undisobliging Transitions. The Effect would be, that the People would hear him with Pleasure.
Had it been
Ulysses
who was to make the Speech, he would have mention'd a few of their most affecting Calamities in a pathetick Air; then have undertaken the Fight with testifying such a chearful Joy, as should have won the Hearts of the Soldiers to follow him to the Field without being desired. He would have been exceeding cautious in wording the Conditions; and solemn rather than particular in speaking of the Rites, which he would only insist on as an Opportunity to exhort both sides to a fear of the Gods, and a strict regard of Justice. He would have remonstrated the use of sending for
Priam;
and (because no Caution could be too much) have demanded his Sons to be bound with him. For a Conclusion he would have us'd some noble Sentiment agreeable to a Heroe, and (it may be) have enforc'd it with some inspirited Action. In all this you would have known that the Discourse hung together, but its Fire would not always suffer it to be seen in cooler Transitions, which (when they are too nicely laid open) may conduct the Reader, but never carry him away. The People would hear him with Emotion.
These Materials being given to
Menelaus,
he but just mentions their Troubles, and his Satisfaction in the Prospect of ending them, shortens the Proposals, says a Sacrifice is necessary, requires
Priam
's Presence to confirm the Conditions, refuses his Sons with a Resentment of that Injury he suffer'd by them, and concludes with a Reason for his Choice from the Praise of Age, with a short Gravity, and the Air of an Apothegm. This he puts in order without any more Transition than what a single Conjunction affords. And the effect of the Discourse is, that the People are instructed by it in what is to be done.
XVI.
VERSE 141.
Two Lambs devoted.
]
The
Trojans
(says the old Scholiast) were required to sacrifice two Lambs; one Male, of a white Colour, to the
Sun,
and one Female, and black, to the
Earth;
as the
Sun
is Father of Light, and the
Earth
the Mother and Nurse of Men. The
Greeks
were to offer a third to
Jupiter,
perhaps to
Jupiter Xenius
because the
Trojans
had broken the Laws of Hospitality: on which account we find
Menelaus
afterwards invoking him in the Combate with
Paris.
That these were the Powers to which they sacrific'd, appears by their being attested by Name in the Oath, ℣. 340.
XVII.
VERSE 153.
The Nations hear, with rising Hopes possest.
]
It seem'd no more than what the Reader would reasonably expect, in the Narration of this long War, that a Period might have been put to it by the single danger of the Parties chiefly concern'd,
Paris
and
Menelaus. Homer
has therefore taken care toward the beginning of his Poem to obviate that Objection; and contriv'd such a Method to render this Combate of no effect, as should naturally make way for all the ensuing Battels, without any future Prospect of a Determination but by the Sword. It is farther worth observing, in what manner he has improved into Poetry the common History of this Action, if (as one may imagine) it was the same with that we have in the second Book of
Dictys Cretensis. When
Paris (says he)
being wounded by the Spear of
Menelaus
fell to the Ground, just as his Adversary was rushing upon him with his Sword, he was shot by an Arrow from
Pandarus,
which prevented his Revenge in the Moment he was going to take it. Immediately on the sight of this perfidious Action, the
Greeks
rose in a Tumult; the
Trojans
rising at the same time, came on, and rescued
Paris
from his Enemy. Homer
has with great Art and Invention mingled all this with the Marvellous, and rais'd it in the Air of Fable. The
Goddess of Love
rescues her Favourite;
Jupiter
debates whether or no the War shall end by the Defeat of
Paris; Juno
is for the Continuance of it;
Minerva
incites
Pandarus
to break the Truce, who thereupon shoots at
Menelaus.
This heightens the Grandeur of the Action without destroying the Verisimilitude, diversifies the Poem, and exhibits a fine Moral; that whatever seems in the World the Effect of common Causes, is really owing to the Decree and Disposition of the Gods.
XVIII.
VERSE 165.
Mean while to beauteous
Helen,
&c.
]
The following Part where we have the first sight of
Helena,
is what I cannot think inferior to any in the Poem. The Reader has naturally an Aversion to this pernicious Beauty, and is apt enough to wonder at the
Greeks
for endeavouring to recover her at such an Expence. But her amiable Behaviour here, the secret Wishes that rise in favour of her rightful Lord, her Tenderness for her Parents and Relations, the Relentings of her Soul for the Mischiefs her Beauty had been the Cause of, the Confusion she appears in, the veiling her Face and dropping a Tear, are Particulars so beautifully natural, as to make every Reader no less than
Menelaus
himself, inclin'd to forgive her at least, if not to love her. We are afterwards confirm'd in this Partiality by the Sentiment of the old Counsellors upon the sight of her, which one would think
Homer
put into their Mouths with that very view: We excuse her no more than
Priam
does himself, and all those do who felt the Calamities she occasion'd: And this Regard for her is heighten'd by all she says herself; in which there is scarce a word that is not big with Repentance and Good-nature.
XIX.
VERSE 170.
The golden Web her own sad Story crown'd.
]
This is a very agreeable Fiction, to represent
Helena
weaving in a large Veil, or Piece of Tapestry, the Story of the
Trojan
War. One would think that
Homer
inherited this Veil, and that his
Iliad
is only an Explication of that admirable Piece of Art.
Dacier.
XX.
VERSE 201.
Like Grashoppers.
]
This is one of the justest and most natural Images in the World, tho' there have been Criticks of so little Taste as to object to it as a mean one. The Garrulity so common to old Men, their Delight in Associating with each other, the feeble Sound of their Voices, the Pleasure they take in a Sun-shiny Day, the Effects of Decay in their Chillness, Leanness, and Scarcity of Blood, are all Circumstances exactly parallel'd in this Comparison. To make it yet more proper to the old Men of
Troy, Faistathius
has observ'd that
Homer
found a Hint for this Simile in the
Trojan
Story, where
Tithou
was feign'd to have been transform'd into a Grashopper in his old Age, perhaps on account of his being so exhausted by Years as to have nothing left him but Voice.
Spondanus
wonders that
Homer
should apply to Grashoppers
, a
sweet Voice,
whereas that of these Animals is harsh and untuneful; and he is contented to come off with a very poor Evasion of
Homero fingere quidlibet fas fuit.
But
Hesychius
rightly observes that
signifies
,
tener
or
gracilis,
as well as
suavis.
The Sense is certainly much better, and the Simile more truly preserv'd by this Interpretation, which is here follow'd in translating it
feeble.
However it may be alledg'd in Defence of the common Versions, and of Madam
Dacier
's (who has turn'd it
Harmonieuse
) that tho'
Virgil
gives the Epithet
raucae
to
Cicadae,
yet the
Greek
Poets frequently describe the Grashopper as a musical Creature, particularly
Anacreon,
and
Theocritus Idyl.
1. where a Shepherd praises another's singing by telling him,
It is remarkable that Mr.
Hobbes
has omitted this beautiful Simile.
XXI.
VERSE 203.
These, when the
Spartan
Fair approach'd.
]
Madam
Dacier
is of Opinion there was never a greater Panegyrick upon
Beauty
than what
Homer
has found the Art to give it in this Place. An Assembly of venerable old Counsellors, who had suffer'd all the Calamities of a tedious War, and were consulting upon the Methods to put a Conclusion to it, seeing the only Cause of it approaching towards them, are struck with her Charms, and cry out,
No wonder!
&c. Nevertheless they afterwards recollect themselves, and conclude to part with her for the publick Safety. If
Homer
had carry'd these old Mens Admiration any farther, he had been guilty of outraging Nature, and offending against Probability. The Old are capable of being touch'd with Beauty by the Eye; but Age secures them from the Tyranny of Passion, and the Effect is but transitory, for Prudence soon regains its Dominion over them.
Homer
always goes as far as he should, but constantly stops just where he ought.
Dacier.
The same Writer compares to this the Speech of
Holosernes
's Soldiers on the sight of
Judith, Ch.
10. ℣. 18. But tho' there be a Resemblance in the Words, the Beauty is no way parallel; the Grace of this consisting in the Age and Character of those who speak it. There is something very gallant upon the Beauty of
Helen
in one of
Lucian
's Dialogues.
Mercury
shews
Menippus
the Sculls of several fine Women; and when the Philosopher is moralizing upon that of
Helen, Was it for this a thousand Ships sail'd from
Greece,
so many brave Men dy'd, and so many Cities were destroy'd? My Friend
(says
Mercury
)
'tis true; but what you behold is only her
Scull,
bad you seen her
Face
you would have been of their Opinion, and have done the very same thing.
XXII.
VERSE 211.
The good old
Priam.]
The Character of a benevolent old Man is very well preserv'd in
Priam
's Behaviour to
Helena.
Upon the Confusion he observes her in, he encourages her by attributing the Misfortunes of the War to the Gods alone, and not to her Fault. This Sentiment is also very agreeable to the natural Piety of old Age; those who have had the longest Experience of human Accidents and Events, being most inclin'd to ascribe the Disposal of all things to the Will of Heaven. It is this Piety that renders
Priam
a Favourite of
Jupiter
(as we find in the beginning of the fourth Book) which for some time delays the Destruction of
Troy;
while his soft Nature and Indulgence for his Children makes him continue a War which ruines him. These are the two principal Points of
Priam
's Character, tho' there are several lesser Particularities, among which we may observe the Curiosity and inquisitive Humour of old Age, which gives occasion to the following Episode.
XXIII.
VERSE 219.
And say, what Chief is he?
]
This View of the
Grecian
Leaders from the Walls of
Troy,
is justly look'd upon as an Episode of great Beauty, as well as a Masterpiece of Conduct in
Homer;
who by this means acquaints the Readers with the Figure and Qualifications of each Heroe in a more lively and agreeable manner. Several great Poets have been engag'd by the Beauty of this Passage to an Imitation of it. In the seventh Book of
Statius, Phorbas
standing with
Antigone
on the Tower of
Thebes,
shews her the Forces as they were drawn up, and describes their Commanders who were neighbouring Princes of
Boeotia.
It is also imitated by
Tasso
in his third Book, where
Erminia
from the Walls of
Jerusalem
points out the chief Warriours to the King; tho' the latter part is perhaps copied too closely and minutely; for he describes
Godfrey
to be of a Port that bespeaks him a Prince, the next of somewhat a lower Stature, a third renown'd for his Wisdom, and then another is distinguish'd by the Largeness of his Chest tnd Breadth of his Shoulders: Which are not only the very Particulars, but in the very Order of
Homer
's.
But however this manner of Introduction has been admir'd, there have not been wanting some Exceptions to a Particular or two.
Scaliger
asks, how it happens that
Priam,
after nine Years Siege, should be yet unacquainted with the Faces of the
Grecian
Leaders? This was an old Cavil, as appears by the
Scholia
that pass under the Name of
Didymus,
where it is very well answer'd, that
Homer
has just before taken care to tell us the Heroes had put off their Armour on this occasion of the Truce, which had conceal'd their Persons 'till now. Others have objected to
Priam
's not knowing
Ulysses,
who (as it appears afterwards) had been at
Troy
on an Embassy. The answer is, that this might happen either from the Dimness of
Priam
's Sight, or Defect of his Memory, or from the Change of
Ulysses
's Features since that time.
XXIV.
VERSE 227.
Before thy Presence.
]
Helen is so overwhelmed with Grief and Shame, that she is unable to give a direct Answer to
Priam
without first humbling herself before him, acknowledging her Crime, and testifying her Repentance. And she no sooner answers by naming
Agamemnon,
but her Sorrows renew at the Name;
He was once my Brother! but I am now a Wretch unworthy to call him so.
XXV.
VERSE 236.
Great in the War, and great in Arts of Sway.
]
This was the Verse which
Alexander
the Great prefer'd to all others in
Homer,
and which he propos'd as the Pattern of his own Actions, as including whatever can be desired in a Prince.
Plut. Orat. de fort. Alex.
1.
XXVI.
VERSE 240.
Extoll'd the happy Prince.
]
It was very natural for
Priam
on this occasion, to compare the declining Condition of his Kingdom with the flourishing State of
Agamemnon
's, and to oppose his own Misery (who had lost most of his Sons and his bravest Warriours) to the Felicity of the other, in being yet Master of so gallant an Army. After this the Humour of old Age breaks out, in the Narration of what Armies he had formerly seen, and bore a Part in the Command of; as well as what Feats of Valour he had then performed. Besides which this Praise of the
Greeks
from the Mouth of an Enemy, was no small Encomium of
Homer
's Countrymen.
XXVII.
VERSE 258.
From Rank to Rank he moves.
]
The Vigilance and Inspection of
Ulysses
were very proper Marks to distinguish him, and agree with his Character of a wise Man no less, than the Grandeur and Majesty before described with that of
Agamemnon,
as the supreme Ruler; whereas we find
Ajax
afterwards taken notice of only for his Bulk, as a heavy Heroe without Parts or Authority. This Decorum is observable.
XXVIII.
VERSE 271.
I knew their Persons,
&c.]
In this View of the Leaders of the Army it had been an Oversight in
Homer
to have taken no Notice of
Menelaus,
who was not only one of the Principal of them, but was immediately to engage the Observation of the Reader in the single Combate. On the other hand it had been a high Indecorum to have made
Helena
speak of him. He has therefore put his Praises into the Mouth of
Antenor;
which was also a more artful way than to have presented him to the Eye of
Priam
in the same manner with the rest: It appears from hence what a Regard he has had both to Decency and Variety in the Conduct of his Poem. This Passage concerning the different Eloquence of
Menelaus
and
Ulysses
is inexpressibly just and beautiful. The close,
Laconick
Conciseness of the one, is finely opposite to the copious, vehement, and penetrating Oratory of the other; which is so exquisitely describ'd in the Simile of the Snow, falling fast, and sinking deep. For it is in this the Beauty of the Comparison consists according to
Quintilian, l.
12.
c.
10.
In Ulysse facundiam & magnitudinem junxit, cui orationem nivibus hybernis
copiâ
verborum atque
impetu
parem tribuit.
We may set in the same Light with these the Character of
Nestor
's Eloquence, which consisted in Softness and Persuasiveness, and is therefore (in Contradistinction to this of
Ulysses
) compar'd to Honey which drops gently and slowly: a manner of Speech extremely natural to a benevolent old Man, such as
Nestor
is represented.
Ausonius
has elegantly distinguish'd these three kinds of Oratory in the following Verses.
Dulcem
in
paucis
ut Plisthenidem,
Et
torrentem
ceu Dulichii
Ningida
dicta.
Et
mellitae
nectare vocis
Dulcia fatu verba canentem
Nestora regem.
XXIX.
VERSE 278.
He spoke no more than just the thing he ought.
]
Chapman in his Notes on this Place and on the second Book, has described
Menelaus
as a Character of Ridicule and Simplicity. He takes advantage from the word
here made use of, to interpret that of the
Shrillness
of his Voice, which was apply'd to the
Acuteness
of his Sense; He observes that this sort of Voice is a Mark of a Fool; that
Menelaus
's coming to his Brother's Feast uninvited in the second Book has occasion'd a Proverb of Folly; that the Excuse
Homer
himself makes for it (because his Brother might forget to invite him thro' much Business) is purely ironical; that the Epithet
which is often apply'd to him, should not be translated
warlike,
but one who had
an Affectation of loving War.
In short, that he was a weak Prince, play'd upon by others, short in Speech, and of a bad Pronunciation, valiant only by fits, and sometimes stumbling upon good Matter in his Speeches, as may happen to the most slender Capacity. This is one of the Mysteries which that Translator boasts to have found in
Homer.
But as it is no way consistent with the Art of the Poet, to draw the Person in whose behalf he engages the World, in such a manner as no Regard should be conceiv'd for him; we must endeavour to rescue him from this Misrepresentation. First then, the present Passage is taken by Antiquity in general to be apply'd not to his Pronunciation, but his Eloquence. So
Ausonius
in the foregoing Citation, and
Cicero de claris Oratoribus: Menelaum ipsum dulcem illum quidem tradit Homerus, sed pauca loquentem.
And
Quintilian l.
12.
c.
10.
Homerus brevem cum animi jucunditate, & propriam
(
id enim est
non errare verbis)
& carentem supervacuis, Eloquentiam Menelao dedit,
&c. Secondly, tho' his coming uninvited may have occasion'd a jesting Proverb, it may naturally be accounted for on the Principle of
brotherly Love,
which so visibly characterises both him and
Agamemnon
throughout the Poem. Thirdly,
may import a Love of War, but not an ungrounded Affectation. Upon the whole, his Character is by no means contemptible, tho' not of the most shining Nature. He is called indeed in the 17
th Iliad
,
a soft Warrior,
or one whose Strength is of the second rate, and so his Brother thought him when he prefer'd nine before him to fight with
Hector
in the 7
th
Book. But on the other hand, his Courage gives him a considerable Figure in conquering
Paris,
defending the Body of
Patroclus,
rescuing
Ulysses,
wounding
Helenus,
killing
Euphorbus,
&c. He is full of Resentment for his private Injuries, which brings him to the War with a Spirit of Revenge in the second Book, makes him blaspheme
Jupiter
in the third, when
Paris
escapes him, and curse the
Grecians
in the seventh when they hesitate to accept
Hector
's Challenge. But this also is qualify'd with a Compassion for those who suffer in his Cause, which he every where manifests upon proper Occasions; and with an Industry to gratify others, as when he obeys
Ajax
in the seventeenth Book, and goes upon his Errand to find
Antilochus,
with some other Condescensions of the like nature. Thus his Character is compos'd of Qualities which give him no uneasy Superiority over others while he wants their Assistance, and mingled with such as make him amiable enough to obtain it.
XXX.
VERSE 280.
His modest Eyes,
&c.]
This Behaviour of
Ulysses
is copy'd by
Ovid, Met.
13.
Astitit, atque oculos parum tellure moratos
Sustulit—.
What follows in the
Greek
translated word for word runs thus:
He seem'd like a Fool, you would have thought him in a Rage, or a Madman.
How oddly this would appear in our Language I appeal to those who have read
Ogilby.
The whole Period means no more than to describe that Behaviour which is commonly remarkable in a modest and sensible Man who speaks in publick: His Diffidence and Respect gives him at his first rising a sort of Confusion, which is not indecent, and which serves but the more to heighten the Surprize and Esteem of those who hear him.
XXXI.
VERSE 309.
Perhaps their Swords.
]
This is another Stroke of
Helen
's Concern: The Sense of her Crime is perpetually afflicting her, and awakes upon every occasion. The Lines that follow wherein
Homer
gives us to understand that
Castor
and
Pollux
were now dead, are finely introduc'd and in the Spirit of Poetry; the Muse is suppos'd to know every thing, past and to come, and to see things distant as well as present.
XXXII.
VERSE 315.
Mean time the Heralds,
&c.]
It may not be unpleasing to the Reader to compare the Description of the Ceremonies of the League in the following Part, with that of
Virgil
in the twelfth Book. The Preparations, the Procession of the Kings, and their Congress, are much more solemn and poetical in the latter; the Oath and Adjurations are equally noble in both.
XXXIII.
VERSE 342.
The curling Hair.
]
We have here the whole Ceremonial of the solemn Oath, as it was observ'd anciently by the Nations our Author describes. I must take this Occasion of remarking that we might spare our selves the trouble of reading most Books of
Grecian Antiquities,
only by being well vers'd in
Homer.
They are generally bare Transcriptions of him, but with this unnecessary Addition, that after having quoted any thing in Verse, they say the same over again in Prose. The
Antiquitates Homericae
of
Feithius
may serve as an Instance of this. What my Lord
Bacon
observes of Authors in general, is particularly applicable to these of Antiquities, that they write for Ostentation not for Instruction, and that their Works are perpetual Repetitions.
XXXIV.
VERSE 361.
And Age to Age record the signal Day.
]
. This seems the natural Sense of the Line, and not as Madam
Dacier
renders it,
the Tribute shall be paid to the Posterity of the
Greeks
for ever.
I think she is single in that Explication, the Majority of the Interpreters taking it to signify that the Victory of the
Grecians
and this Pecuniary Acknowledgment
should be recorded to all Posterity.
If it means any more than this, at least it cannot come up to the Sense Madam
Dacier
gives it; for a Nation put under perpetual Tribute is rather enslaved, than received to Friendship and Alliance, which are the Terms of
Agamemnon
's Speech. It seems rather to be a Fine demanded as a Recompence for the Expences of the War, which being made over to the
Greeks
should
remain to their Posterity for ever,
that is to say, which they should never be molested for, or which should never be redemanded in any Age as a Case of Injury. The Phrase is the same we use at this Day, when any Purchase or Grant is at once made over to a Man
and his Heirs for ever.
With this will agree the
Scholiast
's Note, which tells us the Mulct was reported to have been half the Goods then in the besieg'd City.
XXXV.
VERSE 364.
The Chief the tender Victims slew.
]
One of the grand Objections which the Ignorance of some Moderns has rais'd against
Homer,
is what they call a Defect in the Manners of his Heroes. They are shock'd to find his Kings employ'd in such Offices as slaughtering of Beasts,
&c.
But they forget that sacrificing was the most solemn Act of Religion, and that Kings of old in most Nations were also Chief-Priests. This, among other Objections of the same kind, the Reader may see answered in the Preface.
XXXVI.
VERSE 433.
Give me, great
Jove.]
Homer
puts a Prayer in the Mouth of
Menelaus,
but none in
Paris
's:
Menelaus
is the Person injur'd and innocent, and may therefore apply to God for Justice; but
Paris
who is the Criminal, remains silent.
Spondanus.
XXXVII.
VERSE 447.
The brittle Steel, unfaithful to his Hand, Broke short
—This Verse is cut to express the Thing it describes, the snapping short of the Sword. 'Tis the Observation of
Eustathius
on this Line of the Original, that we do not only see the Action, but imagine we hear the Sound of the breaking Sword in that of the Words.
. And that
Homer
design'd it, may appear from his having twice put in the
(which was a Letter unnecessary) to cause this Harshness in the Verse. As this Beauty could not be preserv'd in our Language, it is endeavour'd in the Translation to supply it with something parallel.
XXXVIII.
VERSE 479.
The Goddess softly shook,
&c.]
Venus
having convey'd
Paris
in Safety to his Chamber, goes to
Helena
who had been Spectator of his Defeat, in order to draw her to his Love. The better to bring this about, she first takes upon her the most proper Form in the World, that of a favourite Servant-Maid, and awakens her Passion by representing to her the beautiful Figure of his Person. Next assuming her own Shape she frightens her into a Complyance, notwithstanding all the Struggles of
Shame, Fear,
and
Anger,
which break out in her Speech to the Goddess. This Machine is Allegorical, and means no more than the Power of
Love
triumphing over all the Considerations of
Honour, Ease,
and
Safety.
It has an excellent Effect as to the Poem, in preserving still in some degree our good Opinion of
Helena,
whom we look upon with Compassion as constrain'd by a superior Power, and whose Speech tends to justify her in the Eye of the Reader.
XXXIX.
VERSE 487.
She spoke, and
Helen
's secret Soul was mov'd.
]
Nothing is more fine than this; the first Thought of
Paris
's Beauty overcomes (unawares to herself) the Contempt she had that Moment conceiv'd of him upon his Overthrow. This Motion is but natural, and before she perceives the Deity. When the Affections of a Woman have been thoroughly gained, tho' they may be alienated for a while, they soon return upon her. Homer
knew
(says Madam
Dacier
)
what a Woman is capable of, who had once lov'd.
XL.
VERSE 507.
For me, to lawless Love no longer led, I scorn the Coward.
]
We have here another Branch of the Female Character, which is, to be ruled in their Attaches by
Success; Helen
finding the Victory belong'd to
Menelaus,
accuses herself secretly of having forsaken him for the other, and immediately entertains a high Opinion of the Man she had once despised. One may add that the Fair Sex are generally Admirers of Courage, and naturally Friends to great Soldiers.
Paris
was no Stranger to this Disposition in them, and had formerly endeavour'd to give her that Opinion of himself; as appears from her Reproach to him afterwards.
XLI.
VERSE 515.
Should
Venus
leave thee, ev'ry Charm must fly.
]
This was the most dreadful of all Threats, Loss of Beauty and of Reputation.
Helen
who had been Proof to the personal Appearance of the Goddess, and durst even reproach her with Bitterness just before, yields to this, and obeys all the Dictates of Love.
XLII.
VERSE 531.
She turn'd away Her glowing Eyes.
]
This Interview of the two Lovers, plac'd opposite to each other and over-look'd by
Venus, Paris
gazing on
Helena,
she turning away her Eyes shining at once with Anger and Love, are Particulars finely drawn, and painted up to all the Life of Nature.
Eustathius
imagines she look'd aside in the Consciousness of her own Weakness, as apprehending that the Beauty of
Paris
might cause her to relent. Her bursting out into Passion and Reproaches while she is in this State of Mind, is no ill Picture of Frailty:
Venus
(as Madam
Dacier
observes) does not leave her, and Fondness will immediately succeed to these Reproaches.
XLIII.
VERSE 543.
Ah cease, divinely fair.
]
This Answer of
Paris
is the only one he could possibly have made with any Success in his Circumstance. There was no other Method to reconcile her to him but that which is generally most powerful with the Sex, and which
Homer
(who was Learned every way) here makes use of.
XLIV.
VERSE 553.
When first entranc'd in
Cranaë
's Isle.
]
It is in the Original
. The true Sense of which is express'd in the Translation. I cannot but take notice of a small Piece of
Pruderie
in Madam
Dacier,
who is exceeding careful of
Helen
's Character. She turns this Passage as if
Paris
had only her
Consent to be her Husband
in this Island.
Pausanias
explains this Line in another manner, and tells us it was here that
Paris
had first the Enjoyment of her, that in Gratitude for his Happiness he built a Temple of
Venus Migonitis,
the Mingler or Coupler, and that the neighbouring Coast where it was erected was call'd
Migonian
from
,
à miscendo. Paus. Laconicis.
XLV.
VERSE 551.
Not thus I lov'd thee.
]
However
Homer
may be admired for his Conduct in this Passage, I find a general Outcry against
Paris
on this Occasion.
Plutarch
has led the way in his Treatise of reading Poets, by remarking it as a most heinous Act of Incontinence in him to go to Bed to his Lady in the
Day-time.
Among the Commentators the most violent is the moral Expositor
Spondanus,
who will not so much as allow him to say a civil thing to
Helen. Mollis, effoeminatus, & spurcus ille adulter, nihil de libidine suâ imminutum dicit, sed nunc magis eâ corripi quàm unquam aliàs, ne quidem cùm primùm ea ipsi dedit
(
Latini ita rectè exprimunt
in re venereâ
)
in Insula
Cranaë.
Cùm alioqui homines primi concubitûs soleant esse ardentiores.
I could not deny the Reader the Diversion of this Remark, nor
Spondauus
the Glory of his Zeal, who was but two and twenty when it was written. Madam
Dacier
is also very severe upon
Paris,
but for a Reason more natural to a Lady. She is of Opinion that the Passion of the Lover would scarce have been so excessive as he here describes it, but for fear of losing his Mistress immediately, as foreseeing the
Greeks
would demand her. One may answer to this lively Remark, that
Paris
having nothing to say for himself, was obliged to testify an uncommon Ardour for his Lady, at a time when Compliments were to pass instead of Reasons. I hope to be excus'd if (in Revenge for her Remark upon our Sex) I observe upon the Behaviour of
Helen
throughout this Book, which gives a pretty natural Picture of the Manners of theirs. We see her first in Tears, repentant, cover'd with Confusion at the sight of
Priam,
and secretly inclin'd to return to her former Spouse. The Disgrace of
Paris
increases her Dislike of him; she rails, she reproaches, she wishes his Death; and after all, is prevail'd upon by one kind Compliment, and yields to his Embraces. Methinks when this Lady's Observation and mine are laid together, the best that can be made of them is to conclude, that since both the Sexes have their Frailties, it would be well for each to forgive the other.
It is worth looking backward, to observe the
Allegory
here carry'd on with respect to
Helena,
who lives thro' this whole Book in a Whirl of Passions, and is agitated by turns with Sentiments of Honour and Love. The Goddesses made use of to cast the Appearance of Fable over the Story, are
Iris
and
Venus.
When
Helen
is call'd to the Tower to behold her former Friends,
Iris
the Messenger of
Juno
(the Goddess of Honour) is sent for her; and when invited to the Bed-Chamber of
Paris, Venus
is to beckon her out of the Company. The Forms they take to carry on these different Affairs, are properly chosen: the one assuming the Person of the Daughter of
Antenor,
who press'd most for her being restor'd to
Menelaus;
the other the Shape of an old Maid, who was privy to the Intrigue with
Paris
from the beginning. And in the Consequences, as the one inspires the Love of her former Empire, Friends and Country; so the other instills the Dread of being cast off by all if she forsook her second Choice, and causes the Return of her Tenderness to
Paris.
But if she has a Struggle for
Honour,
she is in a Bondage to
Love;
which gives the Story its Turn that way, and makes
Venus
oftner appear than
Iris.
There is in one Place a Lover to be protected, in another a Love-Quarrel to be made up, in both which the Goddess is kindly officious. She conveys
Paris
to
Troy
when he had escap'd the Enemy; which may hint his Love for his Mistress, that hurry'd him away to justify himself before her. She softens and terrifies
Helen,
in order to make up the Breach between them: And even when that Affair is finished, we do not find the Poet dismisses her from the Chamber, whatever Privacies the Lovers had a mind to: In which Circumstance he seems to draw aside the Veil of his Allegory, and to let the Reader at last into this Meaning of it, that the Goddess of Love has been all the while nothing more than the Passion of it.
THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The ARGUMENT.
The Breach of the Truce, and the first Battel.
THE Gods deliberate in Council concerning the
Trojan
War: They agree upon the Continuation of it, and
Jupiter
sends down
Minerva
to break the Truce. She persuades
Pandarus
to aim an Arrow at
Menelaus,
who is wounded, but cured by
Machaon.
In the mean time some of the
Trojan
Troops attack the
Greeks. Agamemnon
is distinguished in all the Parts of a good General; he reviews the Troops and exhorts the Leaders, some by Praises and others by Reproofs.
Nestor
is particularly celebrated for his military Discipline. The Battel joins, and great Numbers are slain on both sides.
The same Day continues thro' this, as thro' the last Book (as it does also thro' the two following, and almost to the end of the seventh Book.) The
Scene
is wholly in the Field before
Troy.
THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
AND now
Olympus'
shining Gates unfold;
The Gods, with
Jove,
assume their Thrones of Gold:
Immortal
Hebè,
fresh with Bloom Divine,
The golden Goblets crowns with Purple Wine:
While the full Bowls flow round, the Pow'rs employ
Their careful Eyes on long-contended
Troy.
When
Jove,
dispos'd to tempt
Saturnia
's Spleen,
Thus wak'd the Fury of his partial Queen.
Two Pow'rs Divine the Son of
Atreus
aid,
Imperial
Juno,
and the Martial Maid;
But high in Heav'n they sit, and gaze from far,
The tame Spectators of his Deeds of War.
Not thus fair
Venus
helps her favour'd Knight,
The Queen of Pleasures shares the Toils of Fight,
Each Danger wards, and constant in her Care
Saves in the Moment of the last Despair.
Her Act has rescu'd
Paris'
forfeit Life,
Tho' great
Atrides
gain'd the glorious Strife.
Then say ye Pow'rs! what signal Issue waits
To crown this Deed, and finish all the Fates?
Shall Heav'n by Peace the bleeding Kingdoms spare,
Or rowze the Furies and awake the War?
Yet, would the Gods for human Good provide,
Atrides
soon might gain his beauteous Bride,
Still
Priam
's Walls in peaceful Honours grow,
And thro' his Gates the crowding Nations flow.
Thus while he spoke, the Queen of Heav'n enrag'd
And Queen of War, in close Consult engag'd.
Apart they sit, their deep Designs employ,
And meditate the future Woes of
Troy.
Tho' secret Anger swell'd
Minerva
's Breast,
The prudent Goddess yet her Wrath supprest;
But
Juno,
impotent of Passion, broke
Her sullen Silence, and with Fury spoke.
Shall then, O Tyrant of th' Aethereal Reign!
My Schemes, my Labours, and my Hopes be vain?
Have I, for this, shook
Ilion
with Alarms,
Assembled Nations, set two Worlds in Arms?
To spread the War, I flew from Shore to Shore;
Th' Immortal Coursers scarce the Labour bore.
At length, ripe Vengeance o'er their Heads impends,
But
Jove
himself the faithless Race defends:
Loth as thou art to punish lawless Lust,
Not all the Gods are partial and unjust.
The Sire whose Thunder shakes the cloudy Skies,
Sighs from his inmost Soul, and thus replies;
Oh lasting Rancour! oh insatiate Hate
To
Phrygia
's Monarch, and the
Phrygian
State!
What high Offence has fir'd the Wife of
Jove,
Can wretched Mortals harm the Pow'rs above,
That
Troy,
and
Troy
's whole Race thou woud'st confound,
And yon' fair Structures level with the Ground?
Haste, leave the Skies, fulfil thy stern Desire,
Burst all her Gates, and wrap her Walls in Fire!
Let
Priam
bleed! If yet thou thirst for more,
Bleed all his Sons, and
Ilion
float with Gore,
To boundless Vengeance the wide Realm be giv'n,
'Till vast Destruction glut the Queen of Heav'n!
So let it be, and
Jove
his Peace enjoy,
When Heav'n no longer hears the Name of
Troy.
But should this Arm prepare to wreak our Hate
On thy lov'd Realms whose Guilt demands their Fate,
Presume not thou the lifted Bolt to stay,
Remember
Troy,
and give the Vengeance way.
For know, of all the num'rous Towns that rise
Beneath the rowling Sun, and starry Skies,
Which Gods have rais'd, or Earth-born Men enjoy;
None stands so dear to
Jove
as sacred
Troy.
No Mortals merit more distinguish'd Grace
Than Godlike
Priam,
or than
Priam
's Race.
Still to our Name their Hecatombs expire,
And Altars blaze with unextinguish'd Fire.
At this the Goddess roll'd her radiant Eyes,
Then on the Thund'rer fix'd them, and replies.
Three Towns are
Juno
's on the
Grecian
Plains,
More dear than all th' extended Earth contains,
Mycenae, Argos,
and the
Spartan
Wall;
These thou may'st raze, nor I forbid their Fall:
'Tis not in me the Vengeance to remove;
The Crime's sufficient that they share my Love.
Of Pow'r superior why should I complain?
Resent I may, but must resent in vain.
Yet some Distinction
Juno
might require,
Sprung, with thy self, from one Celestial Sire,
A Goddess born to share the Realms above,
And styl'd the Consort of the thund'ring
Jove.
Nor thou a Wife and Sister's Right deny;
Let both consent, and both by turns comply:
So shall the Gods our joint Decrees obey,
And Heav'n shall act as we direct the way.
See ready
Pallas
waits thy high Commands,
To raise in Arms the
Greek
and
Phrygian
Bands;
Their sudden Friendship by her Arts may cease,
And the proud
Trojans
first infringe the Peace.
The Sire of Men and Monarch of the Sky
Th' Advice approv'd, and bade
Minerva
fly,
Dissolve the League, and all her Arts employ
To make the Breach the faithless Act of
Troy.
Fir'd with the Charge, she head-long urg'd her Flight,
And shot like Light'ning from
Olympus'
Height.
As the red Comet from
Saturnius
sent
To fright the Nations with a dire Portent,
(A fatal Sign to Armies on the Plain,
Or trembling Sailors on the wintry Main)
With sweeping Glories glides along in Air,
And shakes the Sparkles from its blazing Hair:
Between both Armies thus, in open Sight,
Shot the bright Goddess in a Trial of Light.
With Eyes erect the gazing Hosts admire
The Pow'r descending, and the Heav'ns on Fire!
The Gods (they cry'd) the Gods this Signal sent,
And Fate now labours with some vast Event:
Jove
seals the League, or bloodier Scenes prepares;
Jove,
the great Arbiter of Peace and Wars!
They said, while
Pallas
thro' the
Trojan
Throng
(In Shape a Mortal) pass'd disguis'd along.
Like bold
Laödocus,
her Course she bent,
Who from
Antenor
trac'd his high Descent.
Amidst the Ranks
Lycaön
's Son she found,
The warlike
Pandarus,
for Strength renown'd;
Whose Squadrons, led from black
Aesepus'
Flood,
With flaming Shields in martial Circle stood.
To him the Goddess:
Phrygian!
can'st thou hear
A well-tim'd Counsel with a willing Ear?
What Praise were thine, cou'd'st thou direct thy Dart
Amidst his Triumph to the
Spartan
's Heart?
What Gifts from
Troy,
from
Paris
wou'd'st thou gain,
Thy Country's Foe, the
Grecian
Glory slain?
Then seize th' Occasion, dare the mighty Deed,
Aim at his Breast, and may that Aim succeed!
But first, to speed the Shaft, address thy Vow
To
Lycian Phoebus
with the Silver Bow,
And swear the Firstlings of thy Flock to pay
On
Zelia
's Altars, to the God of Day.
He heard, and madly at the Motion pleas'd,
His polish'd Bow with hasty Rashness seiz'd.
'Twas form'd of Horn, and smooth'd with artful Toil;
A Mountain Goat resign'd the shining Spoil,
Who peirc'd long since beneath his Arrows bled;
The stately Quarry on the Cliffs lay dead,
And sixteen Palms his Brows large Honours spread:
The Workman join'd, and shap'd the bended Horns,
And beaten Gold each taper Point adorns.
This, by the
Greeks
unseen, the Warrior bends,
Screen'd by the Shields of his surrounding Friends.
There meditates the Mark; and couching low,
Fits the sharp Arrow to the well-strung Bow.
One from a hundred feather'd Deaths he chose,
Fated to wound, and Cause of future Woes.
Then offers Vows with Hecatombs to crown
Apollo
's Altars in his Native Town.
Now with full Force the yielding Horn he bends,
Drawn to an Arch, and joins the doubling Ends;
Close to his Breast he strains the Nerve below,
'Till the barb'd Point approach the circling Bow;
Th' impatient Weapon whizzes on the Wing,
Sounds the tough Horn, and twangs the quiv'ring String.
But Thee,
Atrides!
in that dang'rous Hour
The Gods forget not, nor thy Guardian Pow'r.
Pallas
assists, and (weaken'd in its Force)
Diverts the Weapon from the destin'd Course.
So from her Babe, when Slumber seals his Eye,
The watchful Mother wafts th' envenom'd Fly.
Just where his Belt with golden Buckles join'd,
Where Linen Folds the double Corslet lin'd,
She turn'd the Shaft, which hissing from above,
Pass'd the broad Belt, and thro' the Corslet drove;
The Folds it pierc'd, the plaited Linen tore,
And raz'd the Skin and drew the Purple Gore.
As when some stately Trappings are decreed,
To grace a Monarch on his bounding Steed,
A Nymph in
Caria
or
Meönia
bred,
Stains the pure Iv'ry with a lively Red;
With equal Lustre various Colours vie,
The shining Whiteness and the
Tyrian
Dye.
So, great
Atrides!
show'd thy sacred Blood,
As down thy snowie Thigh distill'd the streaming Flood.
With Horror seiz'd, the King of Men descry'd
The Shaft infix'd, and saw the gushing Tide:
Nor less the
Spartan
fear'd, before he found
The shining Barb appear above the Wound.
Then, with a Sigh that heav'd his manly Breast,
The Royal Brother thus his Grief exprest,
And grasp'd his Hand; while all the
Greeks
around
With answering Sighs return'd the plaintive Sound.
Oh dear as Life! did I for this agree
The solemn Truce, a fatal Truce to thee!
Wert thou expos'd to all the hostile Train,
To fight for
Greece,
and conquer to be slain?
The Race of
Trojans
in thy Ruin join,
And Faith is scorn'd by all the perjur'd Line.
Not thus our Vows, confirm'd with Wine and Gore,
Those Hands we plighted, and those Oaths we swore,
Shall all be vain: When Heav'n's Revenge is slow,
Jove
but prepares to strike the fiercer Blow.
The Day shall come, that great avenging Day,
Which
Troy
's proud Glories in the Dust shall lay,
When
Priam
's Pow'rs and
Priam
's self shall fall,
And one prodigious Ruin swallow All.
I see the God, already, from the Pole
Bare his red Arm, and bid the Thunder roll;
I see th' Eternal all his Fury shed,
And shake his
Aegis
o'er their guilty Head.
Such mighty Woes on perjur'd Princes wait;
But thou, alas! deserv'st a happier Fate.
Still must I mourn the Period of thy Days,
And only mourn, without my Share of Praise?
Depriv'd of thee, the heartless
Greeks
no more
Shall dream of Conquests on the hostile Shore;
Troy
seiz'd of
Helen,
and our Glory lost,
Thy Bones shall moulder on a foreign Coast:
While some proud
Trojan
thus insulting cries,
(And spurns the Dust where
Menelaus
lies)
" Such are the Trophies
Greece
from
Ilion
brings,
" And such the Conquests of her King of Kings!
" Lo his proud Vessels scatter'd o'er the Main,
" And unreveng'd, his mighty Brother slain.
Oh! e're that dire Disgrace shall blast my Fame,
O'erwhelm me, Earth! and hide a Monarch's Shame.
He said: A Leader's and a Brother's Fears
Possess his Soul, which thus the
Spartan
chears:
Let not thy Words the Warmth of
Greece
abate;
The feeble Dart is guiltless of my Fate:
Stiff with the rich embroider'd Work around,
My vary'd Belt repell'd the flying Wound.
To whom the King. My Brother and my Friend,
Thus, always thus, may Heav'n thy Life defend!
Now seek some skilful Hand whose pow'rful Art
May stanch th' Effusion and extract the Dart.
Herald be swift, and bid
Machaon
bring
His speedy Succour to the
Spartan
King;
Pierc'd with a winged Shaft (the Deed of
Troy
)
The
Grecian
's Sorrow, and the
Dardan
's Joy.
With hasty Zeal the swift
Talthybius
flies;
Thro' the thick Files he darts his searching Eyes,
And finds
Machaön,
where sublime he stands
In Arms encircled with his native Bands.
Then thus:
Machaön,
to the King repair,
His wounded Brother claims thy timely Care;
Pierc'd by some
Lycian
or
Dardanian
Bow,
A Grief to us, a Triumph to the Foe.
The heavy Tidings griev'd the Godlike Man;
Swift to his Succour thro' the Ranks he ran:
The dauntless King yet standing firm he found,
And all the Chiefs in deep Concern around.
Where to the steely Point the Reed was join'd,
The Shaft he drew, but left the Head behind.
Strait the broad Belt with gay Embroid'ry grac'd
He loos'd; the Corslet from his Breast unbrac'd;
Then suck'd the Blood, and Sov'reign Balm infus'd,
Which
Chiron
gave, and
Aesculapius
us'd.
While round the Prince the
Greeks
employ their Care,
The
Trojans
rush tumultuous to the War;
Once more they glitter in refulgent Arms,
Once more the Fields are fill'd with dire Alarms.
Nor had you seen the King of Men appear
Confus'd, unactive, or surpriz'd with Fear;
But fond of Glory, with severe Delight,
His beating Bosom claim'd the rising Fight.
No longer with his warlike Steeds he stay'd,
Or press'd the Car with polish'd Brass inlay'd,
But left
Eurymedon
the Reins to guide;
The fiery Coursers snorted at his side.
On Foot thro' all the martial Ranks he moves,
And these encourages, and those reproves.
Brave Men! he cries (to such who boldly dare
Urge their swift Steeds to face the coming War)
Your ancient Valour on the Foes approve;
Jove
is with
Greece,
and let us trust in
Jove.
'Tis not for us, but guilty
Troy
to dread,
Whose Crimes sit heavy on her perjur'd Head;
Her Sons and Matrons
Greece
shall lead in Chains,
And her dead Warriors strow the mournful Plains.
Thus with new Ardour he the Brave inspires,
Or thus the fearful with Reproaches fires.
Shame to your Country, Scandal of your Kind!
Born to the Fate ye well deserve to find!
Why stand ye gazing round the dreadful Plain,
Prepar'd for Flight, but doom'd to fly in vain?
Confus'd and panting, thus, the hunted Deer
Falls as he flies, a Victim to his Fear.
Still must ye wait the Foes, and still retire,
'Till yon' tall Vessels blaze with
Trojan
Fire?
Or trust ye,
Jove
a valiant Foe shall chace,
To save a trembling, heartless, dastard Race?
This said, he stalk'd with ample Strides along,
To
Crete
's brave Monarch and his martial Throng;
High at their Head he saw the Chief appear,
And bold
Meriones
excite the Rear.
At this the King his gen'rous Joy exprest,
And clasp'd the Warrior to his armed Breast.
Divine
Idomeneus!
what Thanks we owe
To Worth like thine? what Praise shall we bestow?
To thee the foremost Honours are decreed,
First in the Fight, and ev'ry graceful Deed.
For this, in Banquets when the gen'rous Bowls
Restore our Blood, and raise the Warrior's Souls,
Tho' all the rest with stated Rules we bound,
Unmix'd, unmeasur'd are thy Goblets crown'd.
Be still thy self; in Arms a mighty Name;
Maintain thy Honours, and enlarge thy Fame.
To whom the
Cretan
thus his Speech addrest;
Secure of me, O King! exhort the rest:
Fix'd to thy Side, in ev'ry Toil I share,
Thy firm Associate in the Day of War.
But let the Signal be this Moment giv'n;
To mix in Fight is all I ask of Heav'n.
The Field shall prove how Perjuries succeed,
And Chains or Death avenge their impious Deed.
Charm'd with this Heat, the King his Course pursues,
And next the Troops of either
Ajax
views:
In one firm Orb the Bands were rang'd around,
A Cloud of Heroes blacken'd all the Ground.
Thus from the lofty Promontory's Brow
A Swain surveys the gath'ring Storm below;
Slow from the Main the heavy Vapours rise,
Spread in dim Streams, and sail along the Skies,
'Till black as Night the swelling Tempest shows,
The Cloud condensing as the West-Wind blows:
He dreads th' impending Storm, and drives his Flock
To the close Covert of an arching Rock.
Such, and so thick, th' embattel'd Squadrons stood,
With Spears erect, a moving Iron Wood;
A shady Light was shot from glimm'ring Shields,
And their brown Arms obscur'd the dusky Fields.
O Heroes! worthy such a dauntless Train,
Whose Godlike Virtue we but urge in vain,
(Exclaim'd the King) who raise your eager Bands
With great Examples more than loud Commands.
Ah would the Gods but breathe in all the rest
Such Souls as burn in your exalted Breast!
Soon should our Arms with just Success be crown'd,
And
Troy
's proud Walls lie smoaking on the Ground.
Then to the next the Gen'ral bends his Course;
(His Heart exults, and glories in his Force)
There rev'rend
Nestor
ranks his
Pylian
Bands,
And with inspiring Eloquence commands,
With strictest Order sets his Train in Arms,
The Chiefs advises, and the Soldiers warms.
Alastor, Chromius, Haemon
round him wait,
Bias
the good, and
Pelagon
the great.
The Horse and Chariots to the Front assign'd,
The Foot (the Strength of War) he rang'd behind;
The middle Space suspected Troops supply,
Inclos'd by both, nor left the Pow'r to fly:
He gives Command to curb the fiery Steed,
Nor cause Confusion, nor the Ranks exceed;
Before the rest let none too rashly ride;
No Strength or Skill, but just in Time, be try'd:
The Charge once made, no Warrior turn the Rein,
But fight, or fall; a firm, embody'd Train.
He whom the Fortune of the Field shall cast
From forth his Chariot, mount the next in haste;
Nor seek unpractis'd to direct the Car,
Content with Jav'lins to provoke the War.
Our great Fore-fathers held this prudent Course,
Thus rul'd their Ardour, thus preserv'd their Force,
By Laws like these Immortal Conquests made,
And Earth's proud Tyrants low in Ashes laid.
So spoke the Master of the martial Art,
And touch'd with Transport great
Atrides'
Heart.
Oh! had'st thou Strength to match thy brave Desires,
And Nerves to second what thy Soul inspires!
But wasting Years that wither human Race,
Exhaust thy Spirits, and thy Arms unbrace.
What once thou wert, oh ever might'st thou be!
And Age the Lot of any Chief but thee.
Thus to th' experienc'd Prince
Atrides
cry'd;
He shook his hoary Locks, and thus reply'd.
Well might I wish, could Mortal Wish renew
That Strength which once in boiling Youth I knew;
Such as I was, when
Ereuthalion
slain
Beneath this Arm fell prostrate on the Plain.
But Heav'n its Gifts not all at once bestows,
These Years with Wisdom crowns, with Action those:
The Field of Combate fits the Young and Bold,
The solemn Council best becomes the Old:
To you the glorious Conflict I resign,
Let sage Advice, the Palm of Age, be mine.
He said. With Joy the Monarch march'd before,
And found
Menestheus
on the dusty Shore,
With whom the firm
Athenian
Phalanx stands;
And next
Ulysses,
with his Subject Bands.
Remote their Forces lay, nor knew so far
The Peace infring'd, nor heard the Sounds of War;
The Tumult late begun, they stood intent
To watch the Motion, dubious of th' Event.
The King, who saw their Squadrons yet unmov'd,
With hasty Ardour thus the Chiefs reprov'd.
Can
Peteus'
Son forget a Warrior's Part,
And fears
Ulysses,
skill'd in ev'ry Art?
Why stand you distant, and the rest expect
To mix in Combate which your selves neglect?
From you 'twas hop'd among the first to dare
The Shock of Armies, and commence the War.
For this your Names are call'd, before the rest,
To share the Pleasures of the Genial Feast:
And can you, Chiefs! without a Blush survey
Whole Troops before you lab'ring in the Fray?
Say, is it thus those Honours you requite?
The first in Banquets, but the last in Fight.
Ulysses
heard; The Hero's Warmth o'erspread
His Cheek with Blushes; and severe, he said.
Take back th' unjust Reproach! Behold we stand
Sheath'd in bright Arms, and but expect Command.
If glorious Deeds afford thy Soul delight,
Behold me plunging in the thickest Fight.
Then give thy Warrior-Chief a Warrior's Due,
Who dares to act whate'er thou dar'st to view.
Struck with his gen'rous Wrath, the King replies;
Oh great in Action, and in Council wise!
With ours, thy Care and Ardour are the same,
Nor need I to command, nor ought to blame.
Sage as thou art, and learn'd in Humankind,
Forgive the Transport of a martial Mind.
Haste to the Fight, secure of just Amends;
The Gods that make, shall keep the Worthy, Friends.
He said, and pass'd where great
Tydides
lay,
His Steeds and Chariots wedg'd in firm Array:
(The warlike
Sthenelus
attends his side)
To whom with stern Reproach the Monarch cry'd.
Oh Son of
Tydeus!
(He, whose Strength could tame
The bounding Steed, in Arms a mighty Name)
Can'st thou, remote, the mingling Hosts descry
With Hands unactive, and a careless Eye?
Not thus thy Sire the fierce Encounter fear'd;
Still first in Front the matchless Prince appear'd:
What glorious Toils, what Wonders they recite,
Who view'd him lab'ring thro' the Ranks of Fight!
I saw him once, when gath'ring martial Pow'rs
A peaceful Guest, he sought
Mycenae
's Tow'rs;
Armies he ask'd, and Armies had been giv'n,
Not we deny'd, but
Jove
forbad from Heav'n;
While dreadful Comets glaring from afar
Forewarn'd the Horrors of the
Theban
War.
Next, sent by
Greece
from where
Asopus
flows,
A fearless Envoy he approach'd the Foes;
Thebes'
hostile Walls, unguarded and alone,
Dauntless he enters, and demands the Throne.
The Tyrant feasting with his Chiefs he found,
And dar'd to Combate all those Chiefs around;
Dar'd and subdu'd, before their haughty Lord;
For
Pallas
strung his Arm, and edg'd his Sword.
Stung with the Shame, within the winding Way,
To bar his Passage fifty Warriors lay;
Two Heroes led the secret Squadron on,
Moeon
the fierce, and hardy
Lycophon;
Those fifty slaughter'd in the gloomy Vale,
He spar'd but one to bear the dreadful Tale.
Such
Tydeus
was, and such his martial Fire;
Gods! how the Son degen'rates from the Sire?
No Words the Godlike
Diomed
return'd,
But heard respectful, and in secret burn'd:
Not so fierce
Capaneus'
undaunted Son,
Stern as his Sire, the Boaster thus begun.
What needs, O Monarch, this invidious Praise,
Our selves to lessen, while our Sires you raise?
Dare to be just,
Atrides!
and confess
Our Valour equal, tho' our Fury less.
With fewer Troops we storm'd the
Theban
Wall,
And happier, saw the Sev'nfold City fall.
In impious Acts the guilty Fathers dy'd;
The Sons subdu'd, for Heav'n was on their side.
Far more than Heirs of all our Parent's Fame,
Our Glories darken their diminish'd Name.
To him
Tydides
thus. My Friend forbear,
Suppress thy Passion, and the King revere:
His high Concern may well excuse this Rage,
Whose Cause we follow, and whose War we wage;
His the first Praise were
Ilion
's Tow'rs o'erthrown,
And, if we fail, the chief Disgrace his own.
Let him the
Greeks
to hardy Toils excite,
'Tis ours, to labour in the glorious Fight.
He spoke, and ardent, on the trembling Ground
Sprung from his Car; his ringing Arms resound.
Dire was the Clang, and dreadful from afar,
Of arm'd
Tydides
rushing to the War.
As when the Winds, ascending by degrees,
First move the whitening Surface of the Seas,
The Billows float in order to the Shore,
The Wave behind rolls on the Wave before;
Till, with the growing Storm, the Deeps arise,
Foam o'er the Rocks, and thunder to the Skies.
So to the Fight the thick
Battalions
throng,
Shields urg'd on Shields, and Men drove Men along.
Sedate and silent move the num'rous Bands;
No Sound, no Whisper, but their Chief's Commands,
Those only heard; with Awe the rest obey,
As if some God had snatch'd their Voice away.
Not so the
Trojans,
from their Host ascends
A gen'ral Shout that all the Region rends.
As when the fleecy Flocks unnumber'd stand
In wealthy Folds, and wait the Milker's Hand,
The hollow Vales incessant Bleating fills,
The Lambs reply from all the neighb'ring Hills:
Such Clamours rose from various Nations round,
Mix'd was the Murmur, and confus'd the Sound.
Each Host now joins, and each a God inspires,
These
Mars
incites, and those
Minerva
fires.
Pale
Flight
around, and dreadful
Terror
reign;
And
Discord
raging bathes the purple Plain:
Discord!
dire Sister of the slaught'ring Pow'r,
Small at her Birth, but rising ev'ry Hour,
While scarce the Skies her horrid Head can bound,
She stalks on Earth, and shakes the World around;
The Nations bleed, where-e'er her Steps she turns,
The Groan still deepens, and the Combate burns.
Now Shield with Shield, with Helmet Helmet clos'd,
To Armour Armour, Lance to Lance oppos'd,
Host against Host with shadowy Squadrons drew,
The sounding Darts in Iron Tempests flew,
Victors and Vanquish'd join promiscuous Cries,
And shrilling Shouts and dying Groans arise;
With streaming Blood the slipp'ry Fields are dy'd,
And slaughter'd Heroes swell the dreadful Tide.
As Torrents roll, increas'd by num'rous Rills,
With Rage impetuous down their ecchoing Hills;
Rush to the Vales, and pour'd along the Plain,
Roar thro' a thousand Chanels to the Main;
The distant Shepherd trembling hears the Sound:
So mix both Hosts, and so their Cries rebound.
The bold
Antilochus
the Slaughter led,
The first who strook a valiant
Trojan
dead:
At great
Echepolus
the Lance arrives,
Raz'd his high Crest, and thro' his Helmet drives,
Warm'd in the Brain the brazen Weapon lies,
And Shades Eternal settle o'er his Eyes.
So sinks a Tow'r, that long Assaults had stood
Of Force and Fire; its Walls besmear'd with Blood.
Him, the bold
Elphenor.
Leader of th'
Abantian
Throng
Seiz'd to despoil, and dragg'd the Corps along:
But while he strove to tug th' inserted Dart,
Agenor
's Jav'lin reach'd the Hero's Heart.
His Flank, unguarded by his ample Shield,
Admits the Lance: He falls, and spurns the Field;
The Nerves unbrac'd support his Limbs no more;
The Soul comes floating in a Tide of Gore.
Trojans
and
Greeks
now gather round the Slain;
The War renews, the Warriors bleed again;
As o'er their Prey rapacious Wolves engage,
Man dies on Man, and all is Blood and Rage.
In blooming Youth fair
Simoïsius
fell,
Sent by great
Ajax
to the Shades of Hell;
Fair
Simoïsius,
whom his Mother bore
Amid the Flocks on silver
Simois'
Shore:
The Nymph descending from the Hills of
Ide,
To seek her Parents on his flow'ry Side,
Brought forth the Babe, their common Care and Joy,
And thence from
Simois
nam'd the lovely Boy.
Short was his Date! by dreadful
Ajax
slain
He falls, and renders all their Cares in vain!
So falls a Poplar, that in watry Ground
Rais'd high the Head, with stately Branches crown'd,
(Fell'd by some Artist with his shining Steel,
To shape the Circle of the bending Wheel)
Cut down it lies, tall, smooth, and largely spread,
With all its beauteous Honours on its Head;
There left a Subject to the Wind and Rain
And scorch'd by Suns, it withers on the Plain.
Thus pierc'd by
Ajax, Simoïsius
lies
Stretch'd on the Shore, and thus neglected dies.
At
Ajax, Antiphus
his Jav'lin threw;
The pointed Lance with erring Fury flew,
And
Leucus,
lov'd by wise
Ulysses,
slew.
He drops the Corps of
Simoïsius
slain,
And sinks a breathless Carcass on the Plain.
This saw
Ulysses,
and with Grief enrag'd
Strode where the foremost of the Foes engag'd;
Arm'd with his Spear, he meditates the Wound,
In Act to throw; but cautious, look'd around.
Struck at his Sight the
Trojans
backward drew,
And trembling heard the Jav'lin as it flew.
A Chief stood nigh who from
Abydos
came,
Old
Priam
's Son,
Democoon
was his Name;
The Weapon enter'd close above his Ear,
Cold thro' his Temples glides the whizzing Spear;
With piercing Shrieks the Youth resigns his Breath,
His Eye-balls darken with the Shades of Death;
Down sinks the Chief: his clanging Arms resound;
And his broad Buckler rings against the Ground.
Seiz'd with Affright the boldest Foes appear;
Ev'n Godlike
Hector
seems himself to fear;
Slow he gave way, the rest tumultuous fled;
The
Greeks
with Shouts press on, and spoil the Dead,
But
Phoebus
now from
Ilion
's tow'ring Height
Shines forth reveal'd, and animates the Fight.
Trojans
be bold, and Force with Force oppose;
Your foaming Steeds urge headlong on the Foes!
Nor are their Bodies Rocks, nor ribb'd with Steel;
Your Weapons enter, and your Strokes they feel.
Have ye forgot what seem'd your Dread before?
The great, the fierce
Achilles
fights no more.
Apollo
thus from
Ilion
's lofty Tow'rs
Array'd in Terrors, rowz'd the
Trojan
Pow'rs:
While War's fierce Goddess fires the
Grecian
Foe,
And shouts and thunders in the Fields below.
Then great
Diores
fell, by Doom Divine,
In vain his Valour, and illustrious Line.
A broken Rock the Force of
Pirus
threw,
(Who from cold
Aenus
led the
Thracian
Crew)
Full on his Ankle dropt the pond'rous Stone,
Burst the strong Nerves, and crash'd the solid Bone:
Supine he tumbles on the crimson'd Sands,
Before his helpless Friends, and native Bands,
And spreads for Aid his unavailing Hands.
The Foe rush'd furious as he pants for Breath,
And thro' his Navel drove the pointed Death:
His gushing Entrails smoak'd upon the Ground,
And the warm Life came issuing from the Wound.
His Lance bold
Thoas
at the Conqu'ror sent,
Deep in his Breast above the Pap it went,
Amid the Lungs was fix'd the winged Wood,
And quiv'ring in his heaving Bosom stood:
'Till from the dying Chief, approaching near,
Th'
Aetolian
Warrior tugg'd his weighty Spear:
Then sudden wav'd his flaming Faulchion round,
And gash'd his Belly with a ghastly Wound.
The Corps now breathless on the bloody Plain,
To spoil his Arms the Victor strove in vain;
The
Thracian
Bands against the Victor prest;
A Grove of Lances glitter'd at his Breast.
Stern
Thoas,
glaring with revengeful Eyes,
In sullen Fury slowly quits the Prize.
Thus fell two Heroes; one the Pride of
Thrace,
And one the Leader of th'
Epeian
Race;
Death's sable Shade at once o'ercast their Eyes,
In Dust the Vanquish'd, and the Victor lies.
With copious Slaughter all the Fields are red,
And heap'd with growing Mountains of the Dead.
Had some brave Chief this martial Scene beheld,
By
Pallas
guarded thro' the dreadful Field,
Might Darts be bid to turn their Points away,
And Swords around him innocently play,
The War's whole Art with Wonder had he seen,
And counted Heroes where he counted Men.
So fought each Host, with Thirst of Glory fir'd,
And Crowds on Crowds triumphantly expir'd.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE Fourth Book.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE FOURTH BOOK.
I.
IT was from the beginning of this Book that
Virgil
has taken that of his tenth
Aeneid,
as the whole Tenour of the Story in this and the last Book is followed in his twelfth. The Truce and the solemn Oath, the Breach of it by a Dart thrown by
Tolumnius, Juturna
's inciting the
Latines
to renew the War, the Wound of
Aeneas,
his speedy Cure, and the Battel ensuing, all these are manifestly copied from hence. The Solemnity, Surprize, and Variety of these Circumstances seem'd to him of Importance enough, to build the whole Catastrophe of his Work upon them; tho' in
Homer
they are but Openings to the general Action, and such as in their Warmth are still exceeded by all that follows them. They are chosen, we grant, by
Virgil
with great Judgment, and conclude his Poem with a becoming Majesty: Yet the finishing his Scheme with that which is but the coolest Part of
Homer
's Action, tends in some degree to shew the Disparity of the Poetical Fire in these two Authors.
II.
VERSE 3.
Immortal
Hebe.]
The Goddess of Youth is introduc'd as an Attendant upon the Banquets of the Gods, to shew that the divine Beings enjoy an eternal Youth, and that their Life is a Felicity without end.
Dacier.
III.
VERSE 9.
Two Pow'rs Divine.
]
Jupiter's reproaching these two Goddesses with neglecting to assist
Menelaus,
proceeds (as M.
Dacier
remarks) from the Affection he bore to
Troy:
Since if
Menelaus
by their help had gain'd a compleat Victory, the Siege had been rais'd, and the City deliver'd. On the contrary,
Juno
and
Minerva
might suffer
Paris
to escape, as the Method to continue the War to the total Destruction of
Troy.
And accordingly a few Lines after we find them complotting together, and contriving a new Scene of Miseries to the
Trojans.
IV.
VERSE 18.
Tho' great
Atrides
gain'd the glorious Strife.
]
Jupiter here makes it a Question, Whether the foregoing Combate should determine the Controversy, or the Peace be broken. His putting it thus,
that
Paris
is not killed, but
Menelaus
has the Victory,
gives a Hint for a Dispute whether the Conditions of the Treaty were valid or annulled; that is to say, whether the Controversy was to be determined by the
Victory
or by the
Death
of one of the Combatants. Accordingly it has been disputed whether the Articles were really binding to the
Trojans
or not?
Plutarch
has treated the Question in his
Symposiacks l.
9.
qu.
13. The Substance is this. In the first Proposal of the Challenge
Paris
mentions only the Victory,
And who his Rival shall in Arms subdue:
Nor does
Hector
who carries it say any more. However
Menelaus
understands it of the Death, by what he replies:
Fall he that must beneath his Rival's Arms, And live the rest—Iris
to
Helen
speaks only of the former; and
Idaeus
to
Priam
repeats the same Words. But in the solemn Oath
Agamemnon
specifies the latter,
If by
Paris
slain—
and
If by my Brother's Arms the
Trojan
bleed. Priam
also understands it of both, saying at his leaving the Field,
What Prince shall fall Heav'n
only knows—
(I do not cite the
Greek
because the
English
has preserv'd the same Nicety.)
Paris
himself confesses he has lost the Victory, in his Speech to
Helen,
which he would hardly have done had the whole depended on that alone: And lastly
Menelaus
(after the Conquest is clearly his by the Flight of
Paris
) is still searching round the Field to kill him, as if all were of no effect without the Death of his Adversary. It appears from hence that the
Trojans
had no ill Pretence to break the Treaty, so that
Homer
ought not to have been directly accus'd of making
Jupiter
the Author of Perjury in what follows, which is one of the Chief of
Plato
's Objections against him.
V.
VERSE 31.
Tho' secret Anger swell'd
Minerva
's Breast
]
Spondanus takes notice that
Minerva,
who in the first Book had restrain'd the Anger of
Achilles,
had now an Opportunity of exerting the same Conduct in respect to herself. We may bring the Parallel close, by observing that she had before her in like manner a Superior, who had provok'd her by sharp Expressions, and whose Counsels ran against her Sentiments. In all which the Poet takes care to preserve her still in the Practice of that
Wisdom
of which she was Goddess.
VI.
VERSE 55.
Let
Priam
bleed,
&c.]
We find in
Persius
's Satyrs the Name of
Labeo,
as an ill Poet who made a miserable Translation of the
Iliad;
one of whose Verses is still preserv'd, and happens to be that of this Place.
Crudum manduces Priamum, Priamique pisinnos.
It may seem from this, that his Translation was servilely literal (as the old
Scholiast
on
Persius
observes.) And one cannot but take notice that
Ogilby
's and
Hobbes
's in this Place are not unlike
Labeo
's.
Both King and People thou would'st eat alive.
And eat up
Priam
and his Children all.
VII.
VERSE 61.
But should this Arm prepare to wreak our Hate On thy lov'd Towns—
]
Homer
in this Place has made
Jupiter
to prophecy the Destruction of
Mycenae
the favour'd City of
Juno,
which happen'd a little before the Time of our Author.
Strab. l.
8.
The
Trojan
War being over, and the Kingdom of
Agamemnon
destroy'd,
Mycenae
daily decreas'd after the Return of the
Heraclidae:
For these becoming Masters of
Peloponnesus,
cast out the old Inhabitants; so that they who possess'd
Argos
overcame
Mycenae
also, and contracted both into one Body. A short time after,
Mycenae
was destroy'd by the
Argives,
and not the least Remains of it are now to be found.
VIII.
VERSE 96.
Th'Advice approv'd.
]
This is one of the Places for which
Homer
is blamed by
Plato,
who introduces
Socrates
reprehending it in his Dialogue of the Republick. And indeed if it were granted that the
Trojans
had no Right to break this Treaty, the present Machine where
Juno
is made to propose Perjury,
Jupiter
to allow it, and
Minerva
to be commission'd to hasten the Execution of it, would be one of the hardest to be reconciled to reason in the whole Poem. Unless even then one might imagine, that
Homer
's Heaven is sometimes no more than an Ideal World of abstracted Beings; and so every Motion which rises in the Mind of Man is attributed to the Quality to which it belongs, with the Name of the Deity who is suppos'd to preside over that Quality superadded to it. In this Sense the present Allegory is easy enough.
Pandarus
thinks it
Prudence
to gain Honour and Wealth at the Hands of the
Trojans
by destroying
Menelaus.
This Sentiment is also incited by a Notion of
Glory,
of which
Juno
is represented as Goddess.
Jupiter
who is suppos'd to know the Thoughts of Men, permits the Action which he is not Author of, but sends a Prodigy at the same time to give warning of a coming Mischief, and accordingly we find both Armies descanting upon the sight of it in the following Lines.
IX.
VERSE 120. Pandarus
for Strength renown'd.
]
Homer, says
Plutarch
in his Treatise of the
Pythian Oracle,
makes not the Gods to use all Persons indifferently as their second Agents, but each according to the Powers he is endu'd with by Art or Nature. For a Proof of this, he puts us in Mind how
Minerva
when she would persuade the
Greeks,
seeks for
Ulysses;
when she would break the Truce, for
Pandarus;
and when she would conquer, for
Diomed.
If we consult the
Scholia
upon this Instance, they give several Reasons why
Pandarus
was particularly proper for the Occasion. The Goddess went not to the
Trojans,
because they hated
Paris,
and (as we are told in the end of the foregoing Book) would rather have given him up, than have done an ill Action for him: She therefore looks among the Allies, and finds
Pandarus
who was of a Nation noted for Perfidiousness, and had a Soul avaricious enough to be capable of engaging in this Treachery for the hopes of a Reward from
Paris:
as appears by his being so covetous as not to bring Horses to the Siege for fear of the Expence or Loss of them; as he tells
Aeneas
in the fifth Book.
X.
VERSE 141.
Sixteen Palms.
]
Both the Horns together made this Length; and not each, as Madam
Dacier
renders it. I do not object it as an Improbability that the Horns were of sixteen Palms each; but that this would be an extravagant and unmanageable Size for a Bow, is evident.
XI.
VERSE 144.
This, by the
Greeks
unseen, the Warrior bends.
]
The Poet having held us thro' the foregoing Book in Expectation of a Peace, makes the Conditions be here broken after such a manner, as should oblige the
Greeks
to act thro' the War with that irreconcileable Fury which affords him the Opportunity of exerting the full Fire of his own Genius. The Shot of
Pandarus
being therefore of such Consequence (and as he calls it, the
, the
Foundation of future Woes
) it was thought fit not to pass it over in a few Words, like the Flight of every common Arrow, but to give it a Description some way corresponding to its Importance. For this, he surrounds it with a Train of Circumstances; the History of the Bow, the bending it, the covering
Pandarus
with Shields, the Choice of the Arrow, the Prayer, and Posture of the Shooter, the Sound of the String, and Flight of the Shaft; all most beautifully, and livelily painted. It may be observed too, how proper a time it was to expatiate in these Particulars; when the Armies being unemploy'd, and only one Man acting, the Poet and his Readers had leisure to be the Spectators of a single and deliberate Action. I think it will be allow'd that the little Circumstances which are sometimes thought too redundant in
Homer,
have a wonderful Beauty in this Place.
Virgil
has not fail'd to copy it, and with the greatest Happiness imaginable.
Dixit, & auratâ volucrem Threissa sagittam
Deprompsit pharetrâ, cornuque infensa tetendit,
Et duxit longè, donec curvata coirent
Inter se capita, & manibus jam tangeret aequis,
Laevâ aciem ferri, dextrâ nervoque papillam.
Extemplo teli stridorem aurasque sonantes
Audiit unà Aruns, haesitque in corpore ferrum.
XII.
VERSE 160. Pallas
assists, and weaken'd in its force Diverts the Weapon—
]
For she only designed, by all this Action, to encrease the Glory of the
Greeks
in the taking of
Troy:
Yet some Commentators have been so stupid as to wonder that
Pallas
should be employ'd first in the wounding of
Menelaus,
and after in the protecting him.
XIII.
VERSE 163.
Wafts the wing'd Hornet.
]
This is one of those humble Comparisons which
Homer
sometimes uses to diversify his Subject, but a very exact one in its kind, and corresponding in all its Parts. The Care of the Goddess, the unsuspecting Security of
Menelaus,
the Ease with which she diverts the Danger, and the Danger itself, are all included in this short Compass. To which it may be added, that if the Providence of heavenly Powers to their Creatures is exprest by the Love of a Mother to her Child, if Men in regard to them are but as heedless sleeping Infants, and if those Dangers which may seem great to us, are by them as easily warded off as the Simile implies; there will appear something sublime in this Conception, however little or low the Image may be thought at first sight in respect to a Heroe. A higher Comparison would but have tended to lessen the Disparity between the Gods and Man, and the Justness of the Simile had been lost, as well as the Grandeur of the Sentiment.
XIV.
VERSE 170.
As when some stately Trappings,
&c.]
Some have judg'd the Circumstances in this Simile to be superfluous, and think it foreign to the Purpose to take notice that this Ivory was intended for the Bosses of a Bridle, was laid up for a Prince, or that a Woman of
Caria
or
Meonia
dy'd it.
Eustathius
was of a different Opinion, who extols this Passage for the Variety it presents, and the Learning it includes: We learn from hence that the
Lydians
and
Carians
were famous in the first Times for their staining in Purple, and that the Women excell'd in Works of Ivory: As also that there were certain Ornaments which only Kings and Princes were privileged to wear. But without having recourse to Antiquities to justify this Particular, it may be alledg'd, that the Simile does not consist barely in the Colours; It was but little to tell us, that the Blood of
Menelaus
appearing on the Whiteness of his Skin, vyed with the purpled Ivory; but this implies that the honourable Wounds of a Heroe are the beautiful Dress of War, and become him as much as the most gallant Ornaments in which he takes the Field.
Virgil,
'tis true, has omitted the Circumstance in his Imitation of this Comparison,
Aen.
12.
Indum sanguineo veluti violaverit ostro
Si quis ebur—
But in this he judges only for himself, and does not condemn
Homer.
It was by no means proper that his Ivory should have been a Piece of martial Accoutrement, when he apply'd it so differently, transferring it from the Wounds of a Heroe to the Blushes of the fair
Lavinia.
XV.
VERSE 177.
As down thy snowy Thigh.
]
Homer is very particular here, in giving the Picture of the Blood running in a long Trace, lower and lower, as will appear from the Words themselves.
The Translator has not thought fit to mention every one of these Parts, first the Thigh, then the Leg, then the Foot, which might be tedious in
English:
But the Author's Design being only to image the streaming of the Blood, it seem'd equivalent to make it trickle thro' the Length of an
Alexandrine
Line.
XVI.
VERSE 186.
Oh dear as Life,
&c.]
This Incident of the Wound of
Menelaus
gives occasion to
Homer
to draw a fine Description of fraternal Love in
Agamemnon.
On the first sight of it, he is struck with Amaze and Confusion, and now breaks out in Tenderness and Grief. He first accuses himself as the Cause of this Misfortune, by having consented to expose his Brother to the single Combate which had drawn on this fatal Consequence. Next he inveighs against the
Trojans
in general for their Perfidiousness, as not yet knowing it was the Act of
Pandarus
only. He then comforts himself with the Confidence that the Gods will revenge him upon
Troy;
but doubts by what Hands this Punishment may be inflicted, as fearing the Death of
Menelaus
will force the
Greeks
to return with Shame to their Country. There is no Contradiction in all this, but on the other side a great deal of Nature, in the confused Sentiments of
Agamemnon
on the occasion, as they are very well explained by
Spondanus.
XVII.
VERSE 212.
While some proud
Trojan,
&c.
]
Agamemnon here calls to mind how, upon the Death of his Brother, the ineffectual Preparations and Actions against
Troy
must become a Derision to the World. This is in its own Nature a very irritating Sentiment, tho' it were never so carelesly exprest; but the Poet has found out a peculiar Air of Aggravation, in making him bring all the Consequences before his Eyes, in a Picture of their
Trojan
Enemies gathering round the Tomb of the unhappy
Menelaus,
elated with Pride, insulting the Dead, and throwing out disdainful Expressions and Curses against him and his Family. There is nothing which could more effectually represent a State of Anguish, than the drawing such an Image as this, which shews a Man increasing his present Unhappiness by the Prospect of a future Train of Misfortunes.
XVIII.
VERSE 222.
Let not thy Words the Warmth of
Greece
abate.
]
In
Agamemnon, Homer
has shewn an Example of a tender Nature and fraternal Affection, and now in
Menelaus
he gives us one of a generous warlike Patience and Presence of Mind. He speaks of his own Case with no other Regard, but as this Accident of his Wound may tend to the Discouragement of the Soldiers; and exhorts the General to beware of dejecting their Spirits from the Prosecution of the War.
Spondanus.
XIX.
VERSE 253.
The
Trojans
rush tumultuous to the War.
]
They advanced to the Enemy in the Belief that the Shot of
Pandarus
was made by Order of the Generals.
Dacier.
XX.
VERSE 256.
Nor had you seen.
]
The Poet here changes his Narration, and turns himself to the Reader in an
Apostrophe. Longinus
in his 22d Chapter commends this Figure, as causing a Reader to become a Spectator, and keeping his Mind fixed upon the Action before him.
The
Apostrophe (says he)
renders us more awaken'd, more attentive, and more full of the Thing described.
Madam
Dacier
will have it, that it is the Muse who addresses herself to the Poet in the second Person: 'Tis no great matter which, since it has equally its Effect either way.
XXI.
VERSE 264.
Thro' all the martial Ranks he moves,
&c.]
In the following Review of the Army, which takes up a great Part of this Book, we see all the Spirit, Art, and Industry of a compleat General; together with the proper
Characters
of those Leaders whom he incites.
Agamemnon
considers at this sudden Exigence, that he should first address himself to all in general; he divides his Discourse to the Brave and the Fearful, using Arguments which arise from Confidence or Despair, Passions which act upon us most forcibly: To the Brave, he urges their secure Hopes of Conquest since the Gods must punish Perjury; to the Timorous, their inevitable Destruction if the Enemy should burn their Ships. After this he flies from Rank to Rank, applying himself to each Ally with particular Artifice: He caresses
Idomeneus
as an old Friend who had promised not to forsake him; and meets with an Answer in that Hero's true Character, short, honest, hearty, and Soldier-like. He praises the
Ajaxes
as Warriors whose Examples fired the Army; and is received by them without any Reply, as they were Men who did not profess Speaking. He passes next to
Nestor,
whom he finds talking to his Soldiers as he marshal'd them; here he was not to part without a Compliment on both sides; he wishes him the Strength he had once in his Youth, and is answer'd with an Account of something which the old Heroe had done in his former Days. From hence he goes to the Troops which lay farthest from the Place of Action; where he finds
Menestheus
and
Ulysses,
not intirely unprepar'd nor yet in Motion, as being ignorant of what had happen'd. He reproves
Ulysses
for this, with Words agreeable to the Hurry he is in, and receives an Answer which suits not ill with the twofold Character of a wise and a valiant Man: Hereupon
Agamemnon
appears present to himself, and excuses his hasty Expressions. The next he meets is
Diomed,
whom he also rebukes for Backwardness but after another manner, by setting before him the Example of his Father. Thus is
Agamemnon
introduced, praising, terrifying, exhorting, blaming, excusing himself, and again relapsing into Reproofs; a lively Picture of a great Mind in the highest Emotion. And at the same time the Variety is so kept up, with a regard to the different Characters of the Leaders, that our Thoughts are not tired with running along with him over all his Army.
XXII.
VERSE 296.
For this, in Banquets.
]
The Ancients usually in their Feasts divided to the Guests by equal Portions, except when they took some particular occasion to shew Distinction and give the Preference to any one Person. It was then look'd upon as the highest Mark of Honour to be allotted the best Portion of Meat and Wine, and to be allowed an Exemption from the Laws of the Feast, in drinking Wine unmingled and without Stint. This Custom was much more ancient than the time of the
Trojan
War, and we find it practised in the Banquet given by
Joseph
to his Brethren in
Aegypt,
Gen.
43. ℣.
ult. And he sent Messes to them from before him, but
Benjamin
's Mess was five times so much as any of theirs. Dacier.
XXIII.
VERSE 336.
There rev'rend
Nestor
ranks his
Pylian
Bands.
]
This is the Prince whom
Homer
chiefly celebrates for martial Discipline, of the rest he is content to say they were valiant and ready to fight: The Years, long Observation and Experience of
Nestor
render'd him the fittest Person to be distinguished on this account. The Disposition of his Troops in this Place (together with what he is made to say, that their Fore-fathers used the same Method) may be a Proof that the Art of War was well known in
Greece
before the Time of
Homer.
Nor indeed can it be imagined otherwise, in an Age when all the World made their Acquisitions by Force of Arms only. What is most to be wonder'd at, is, that they had not the use of
Cavalry,
all Men engaging either on
Foot,
or from
Chariots
(a Particular necessary to be known by every Reader of
Homer
's Battels.) In these Chariots there were always two Persons, one of whom only fought, the other was wholly employ'd in managing the Horses. Madam
Dacier
in her excellent Preface to
Homer
is of Opinion, that there were no Horsemen 'till near the Time of
Saul,
threescore Years after the Siege of
Troy;
so that altho' Cavalry were in use in
Homer
's Days, yet he thought himself obliged to regard the Customs of the Age of which he writ, rather than those of his own.
XXIV.
VERSE 344.
The middle Space suspected Troops supply.
]
This Artifice, of placing those Men whose Behaviour was most to be doubted, in the middle, (so as to put them under a necessity of engaging even against their Inclinations) was followed by
Hannibal
in the Battel of
Zama;
as is observed and praised by
Polybius,
who quotes this Verse on that occasion in Acknowledgment of
Homer
's Skill in military Discipline. That our Author was the first Master of that Art in
Greece
is the Opinion of
Aelian, Tactic. c.
1.
Frontinus
gives us another Example of
Pyrrhus
King of
Epirus
's following this Instruction of
Homer. Vide Stratag. lib.
2.
c.
3. So
Ammianus Marcellinus l.
14.
Imperator catervis peditum infirmis, medium inter acies spacium, secundùm Homericam dispositionem, praestituit.
XXV.
VERSE 353.
He whom the Fortune of the Field shall cast
From forth his Chariot, mount the next
—&c.]
The Words in the Original are capable of four different Significations, as
Eustathius
observes. The first is, that whoever in fighting upon his Chariot shall win a Chariot from his Enemy, he shall continue to fight, and not retire from the Engagement to secure his Prize. The second, that if any one be thrown out of his Chariot, he who happens to be nearest shall hold forth his Javelin to help him up into his own. The third is directly the contrary to the last, that if any one be cast from his Chariot and would mount up into another Man's, that other shall push him back with his Javelin, and not admit him for fear of interrupting the Combate. The fourth is the Sense which is followed in the Translation as seeming much the most natural, that every one should be left to govern his own Chariot, and the other who is admitted fight only with the Javelin. The reason of this Advice appears by the Speech of
Pandarus
to
Aeneas
in the next Book:
Aeneas
having taken him up into his Chariot to go against
Diomed,
compliments him with the Choice either to fight, or to manage the Reins, which was esteem'd an Office of Honour. To this
Pandarus
answers, that it is more proper for
Aeneas
to guide his own Horses; lest they not feeling their accustomed Master, should be ungovernable and bring them into Danger.
Upon occasion of the various and contrary Significations of which these Words are said to be capable, and which
Eustathius
and
Dacier
profess to admire as an Excellence; Mons.
de la Motte
in his late Discourse upon
Homer
very justly animadverts, that if this be true, it is a grievous Fault in
Homer.
For what can be more absurd than to imagine, that the Orders given in a Battel should be delivered in such ambiguous Terms, as to be capable of many Meanings? These double Interpretations must proceed not from any design in the Author, but purely from the Ignorance of the Moderns in the
Greek
Tongue: It being impossible for any one to possess the dead Languages to such a degree, as to be certain of all the Graces and Negligences; or to know precisely how far the Licences and Boldnesses of Expression were happy, or forced. But Criticks, to be thought learned, attribute to the Poet all the random Senses that amuse them, and imagine they see in a single Word a whole heap of Things, which no modern Language can express; so are oftentimes charmed with nothing but the Confusion of their own Ideas.
XXVI.
VERSE 385.
Remote their Forces lay.
]
This is a Reason why the Troops of
Ulysses
and
Menestheus
were not yet in Motion. Tho' another may be added in respect to the former, that it did not consist with the Wisdom of
Ulysses
to fall on with his Forces 'till he was well assured. Tho' Courage be no inconsiderable Part of his Character, yet it is always join'd with great Caution. Thus we see him soon after in the very Heat of a Battel, when his Friend was just slain before his Eyes, first looking carefully about him, before he would throw his Spear to revenge him.
XXVII.
VERSE 431.
I saw him once, when,
&c.]
This long Narration concerning the History of
Tydeus,
is not of the Nature of those for which
Homer
has been blam'd with some Colour of Justice: It is not a cold Story but a warm Reproof, while the particularising the Actions of the Father is made the highest Incentive to the Son. Accordingly the Air of this Speech ought to be inspirited above the common Narrative Style. As for the Story itself, it is finely told by
Statius
in the second Book of the
Thebais.
XXVIII.
VERSE 453.
No Words the Godlike
Diomed
return'd.
]
"When
Diomed
is reproved by
Agamemnon,
he holds his Peace in respect to his General, but
Sthenelus
retorts upon him with Boasting and Insolence. It is here worth observing in what manner
Agamemnon
behaves himself; he passes by
Sthenelus
without affording any Reply; whereas just before, when
Ulysses
testify'd his Resentment, he immediately return'd him an Answer. For as it is a mean and servile thing, and unbecoming the Majesty of a Prince, to make Apologies to every Man in Justification of what he has said or done; so to treat all Men with equal Neglect is meer Pride and Excess of Folly. We also see of
Diomed,
that tho' he refrains from speaking in this Place when the Time demanded Action; he afterwards expresses himself in such a manner, as shews him not to have been insensible of this unjust Rebuke: (
as in the ninth Book
) when he tells the King, he was the first who had dar'd to reproach him with want of Courage."
Plutarch
of reading the Poets.
XXIX.
VERSE 461.
We storm'd the
Theban
Wall.
]
The first
Theban
War, of which
Agamemnon
spoke in the preceding Lines, was seven and twenty Years before the War of
Troy. Sthenelus
here speaks of the second
Theban
War, which happen'd ten Years after the first: when the Sons of the seven Captains conquer'd the City, before which their Fathers were destroyed.
Tydeus
expired gnawing the Head of his Enemy, and
Capaneus
was Thunder-struck while he blasphemed
Jupiter. Vid. Stat. Thebaid.
XXX.
VERSE 479.
As when the Winds.
]
Madam
Dacier
thinks it may seem something odd, that an Army going to conquer should be compared to the Waves going to break themselves against the Shore; and would solve the appearing Absurdity by imagining the Poet laid not the Stress so much upon this Circumstance, as upon the same Waves assaulting a Rock, lifting themselves over its Head, and covering it with Foam as the
Trophy of their Victory
(as she expresses it.) But to this it may be answer'd, that neither did the
Greeks
get the better in this Battel, nor will a Comparison be allowed intirely beautiful, which instead of illustrating its Subject stands itself in need of so much Illustration and Refinement, to be brought to agree with it. The Passage naturally bears this Sense.
As when, upon the rising of the Wind, the Waves roll after one another to the Shore; at first there is a distant Motion in the Sea, then they approach to break with Noise on the Strand, and lastly rise swelling over the Rocks, and toss their Foam above their Heads: So the
Greeks,
at first, marched in order one after another silently to the Fight—
Where the Poet breaks off from prosecuting the Comparison, and by a
Prolepsis,
leaves the Reader to carry it on; and image to himself the future Tumult, Rage, and Force of the Battel, in Opposition to that Silence in which he describes the Troops at present, in the Lines immediately ensuing. What confirms this Exposition is, that
Virgil
has made use of the Simile in the same Sense in the seventh
Aeneid.
Fluctus uti primo coepit cùm albescere vento,
Paulatim sese tollit mare, & altiùs undas
Erigit; inde imo consurgit ad aethera fundo.
XXXI.
VERSE 479.
As when the Winds,
&c.]
This is the first Battel in
Homer,
and it is worthy Observation with what Grandeur it is described, and raised by one Circumstance above another, 'till all is involved in Horror and Tumult: The foregoing Simile of the Winds, rising by degrees into a general Tempest, is an Image of the Progress of his own Spirit in this Description. We see first an innumerable Army moving in order, and are amus'd with the Pomp and Silence, then waken'd with the Noise and Clamour; next they join, the adverse Gods are let down among them; the Imaginary Persons of
Terror, Flight, Discord
succeed to re-inforce them; then all is undistinguish'd Fury and a Confusion of Horrors, only that at different Openings we behold the distinct Deaths of several Heroes, and then are involv'd again in the same Confusion.
XXXII.
VERSE 503.
Discord, dire Sister,
&c.]
This is the Passage so highly extoll'd by
Longinus,
as one of the most signal Instances of the noble Sublimity of this Author: where it is said, that the Image here drawn of Discord,
whose Head touch'd the Heavens,
and
whose Feet were on Earth,
may as justly be apply'd to the vast Reach and Elevation of the Genius of
Homer.
But Mons.
Boileau
informs us that neither the Quotation nor these Words were in the Original of
Longinus,
but partly inserted by
Gabriel de Petra.
However the best Encomium is, that
Virgil
has taken it word for word, and apply'd it to the Person of
Fame.
Parva metu primo, mox sese attollit in auras,
Ingrediturque solo, & caput inter nubila condit.
Aristides
had formerly blamed
Homer
for admitting
Discord
into Heaven, and
Scaliger
takes up the Criticism to throw him below
Virgil. Fame
(he says) is properly feign'd to hide her Head in the Clouds, because the Grounds and Authors of Rumours are commonly unknown. As if the same might not be alledg'd for
Homer,
since the Grounds and Authors of
Discord
are often no less secret.
Macrobius
has put this among the Passages where he thinks
Virgil
has fallen short in his Imitation of
Homer,
and brings these Reasons for his Opinion.
Homer
represents
Discord
to rise from small beginnings, and afterwards in her Encrease to reach the Heavens:
Virgil
has said this of
Fame,
but not with equal Propriety; for the Subjects are very different.
Discord,
tho' it reaches to War and Devastation, is still
Discord;
nor ceases to be what it was at first. But
Fame,
when it grows to be universal, is
Fame
no longer, but becomes Knowledge and Certainty. For who calls any thing
Fame,
which is known from Earth to Heaven? Nor has
Virgil
equal'd the Strength of
Homer
's Hyperbole, for one speaks of
Heaven,
the other only of the
Clouds. Macrob. Sat. l.
5.
c.
13.
Scaliger
is very angry at this last Period, and by mistake blames
Gellius
for it, in whom there is no such thing. His Words are so insolently dogmatical, that barely to quote them is to answer them, and the only Answer which such a Spirit of Criticism deserves.
Clamant quòd Maro de Fama dixit eam inter nubila caput condere, cùm tamen Homerus unde ipse accepit, in coelo caput Eridis constituit. Jam tibi pro me respondeo. Non sum imitatus, nolo imitari: non placet, non est verum, Contentionem ponere caput in coelo. Ridiculum est, fatuum est, Homericum est, Graeculum est.
Poetic.
l.
5.
c.
3.
This fine Verse was also criticiz'd by Mons.
Perault,
who accuses it as a forc'd and extravagant Hyperbole. M.
Boileau
answers, that Hyperboles as strong are daily used even in common Discourse, and that nothing is in effect more strictly true than that
Discord
reigns over all the Earth, and in Heaven itself, that is to say, among the Gods of
Homer.
It is not (continues this excellent Critick) the Description of a Giant, as this Censor would pretend, but a just Allegory; and as he makes
Discord
an allegorical Person, she may be of what Size he pleases without shocking us; since it is what we regard only as an Idea and Creature of the Fancy, and not as a material Substance that has any Being in Nature. The Expression in the
Psalms,
that the
impious Man is lifted up as a Cedar of
Libanus, does by no means imply that the impious Man was a Giant as tall as the Cedar. Thus far
Boileau;
and upon the whole we may observe, that it seems not only the Fate of great Genius's to have met with the most malignant Criticks, but of the finest and noblest Passages in them to have been particularly pitch'd upon for impertinent Criticisms. These are the divine Boldnesses which in their very Nature provoke Ignorance and Short-sightedness to shew themselves; and which whoever is capable of attaining, must also certainly know, that they will be attack'd by such as cannot reach them.
XXXIII.
VERSE 509.
Now Shield with Shield,
&c.]
The Verses which follow in the Original are perhaps excell'd by none in
Homer;
and that he had himself a particular Fondness for them, may be imagin'd from his inserting them again in the same Words in the eighth Book. They are very happily imitated by
Statius lib.
7.
Jam clypeus clypeis, umbone repellitur umbo,
Ense minax ensis, pede pes, & cuspide cuspis,
&c.
XXXIV.
VERSE 517.
As Torrents roll.
]
This Comparison of Rivers meeting and roaring, with two Armies mingling in Battel, is an Image of that Nobleness, which (to say no more) was worthy the Invention of
Homer
and the Imitation of
Virgil.
Aut ubi decursu rapido de montibus altis,
Dant sonitum spumosi amnes, & in aequora currunt,
Quisque suum populatus iter;—Stupet inscius alto
Accipiens sonitum saxi de vertice Pastor.
The word
populatus
here has a Beauty which one must be insensible not to observe.
Scaliger
prefers
Virgil
's, and
Macrobius Homer
's, without any Reasons on either side, but only one Critick's positive Word against another's. The Reader may judge between them.
XXXV.
VERSE 523.
The bold
Antilochus.]
Antilochus
the Son of
Nestor
is the first who begins the Engagement. It seems as if the old Hero having done the greatest Service he was capable of at his Years, in disposing the Troops in the best order (as we have seen before) had taken care to set his Son at the head of them, to give him the Glory of beginning the Battel.
XXXVI.
VERSE 540.
As o'er their Prey rapacious Wolves engage.
]
This short Comparison in the
Greek
consists only of two Words,
, which
Scaliger
observes upon as too abrupt. But may it not be answer'd that such a Place as this, where all things are in Confusion, seems not to admit of any Simile, except of one which scarce exceeds a Metaphor in Length? When two Heroes are engag'd, there is a plain View to be given us of their Actions, and there a long Simile may be of use, to raise and enliven them by parallel Circumstances; but when the Troops fall in promiscuously upon one another, the Conclusion excludes distinct or partiticular Images, and consequently Comparisons of any Length would be less natural.
XXXVII.
VERSE 542.
In bloom of Youth fair
Simoisius
fell.
]
This Prince receiv'd his Name from the River
Simois
on whose Banks he was born. It was the Custom of the Eastern People to give Names to their Children deriv'd from the most remarkable Accidents of their Birth. The holy Scripture is full of Examples of this kind. It is also usual in the Old Testament to compare Princes to Trees, Cedars,
&c.
as
Simoisius
is here resembled to a Poplar.
Dacier.
XXXVIII.
VERSE 552.
So falls a Poplar.
]
Eustathius in
Macrobius
prefers to this Simile that of
Virgil
in the second
Aeneid.
Ac veluti in summis antiquam montibus ornum,
Cum ferro accisam crebrisque bipennibus instant
Eruere agricolae certatim; illa usque minatur,
Et tremefacta comam concusso vertice nutat;
Vulneribus donec paulatim evicta supremùm
Congemuit, traxitque jugis avulsa ruinam.
Mr.
Hobbes
in the Preface to his Translation of
Homer
has discours'd upon this Occasion very judiciously.
Homer
(says he) intended no more in this Place than to shew how comely the Body of
Simoisius
appear'd as he lay dead upon the Bank of
Scamander,
strait and tall, with a fair Head of Hair, like a strait and high Poplar with the Boughs still on; and not at all to describe the manner of his falling, which (when a Man is wounded thro' the Breast as he was with a Spear) is always sudden.
Virgil
's is the Description of a great Tree falling when many Men together hew it down. He meant to compare the manner how
Troy
after many Battels, and after the Loss of many Cities, conquer'd by the many Nations under
Agamemnon
in a long War, was thereby weaken'd and at last overthrown, with a great Tree hewn round about, and then falling by little and little leisurely. So that neither these two Descriptions nor the two Comparisons can be compared together. The Image of a Man lying on the Ground is one thing; the Image of falling (especially of a Kingdom) is another. This therefore gives no Advantage to
Virgil
over
Homer.
Thus Mr.
Hobbes.
XXXIX.
VERSE 585.
But
Phoebus
now.
]
Homer here introduces
Apollo
on the side of the
Trojans:
He had given them the Assistance of
Mars
at the beginning of this Battel; but
Mars
(which signifies Courage without Conduct) proving too weak to resist
Minerva
(or Courage with Conduct) which the Poet represents as constantly aiding his
Greeks;
they want some prudent Management to rally them again: He therefore brings in a
Wisdom
to assist
Mars,
under the Appearance of
Apollo.
XL.
VERSE 592. Achilles
fights no more.
]
Homer from time to time puts his Readers in mind of
Achilles,
during his Absence from the War; and finds occasions of celebrating his Valour with the highest Praises. There cannot be a greater Encomium than this, where
Apollo
himself tells the
Trojans
they have nothing to fear, since
Achilles
fights no longer against them.
Dacier.
XLI.
VERSE 630.
Had some brave Chief.
]
The turning off in this Place from the Actions of the Field, to represent to us a Man with Security and Calmness walking thro' it, without being able to reprehend any thing in the whole Action; this is not only a fine Praise of the Battel, but as it were a Breathing-place to the Poetical Spirit of the Author, after having rapidly run along with the Heat of the Engagement: He seems like one who having got over a Part of his Journey, stops upon an Eminence to look back upon the Space he has pass'd, and concludes the Book with an agreeable Pause or Respite.
The Reader will excuse our taking notice of such a Trifle, as that it was an old Superstition, that this fourth Book of the
Iliads
being laid under the Head, was a Cure for the
Quartan Ague. Serenus Sammonicus,
a celebrated Physician in the time of the younger
Gordian
and Preceptor to that Emperor, has gravely prescrib'd it among other Receipts in his medicinal Precepts,
Praec.
50.
Moeoniae Iliados quartum suppone timenti.
I believe it will be found a true Observation, that there never was any thing so absurd or ridiculous, but has at one time or other been written even by some Author of Reputation: A Reflection it may not be improper for Writers to make, as being at once some Mortification to their Vanity, and some Comfort to their Infirmity.
FINIS.
DIEU ET MON DROIT
GEORGE R.
GEORGE, by the Grace of GOD, King of
Great Britain, France
and
Ireland,
Defender of the Faith,
&c.
To all to whom these Presents shall come, Greeting. Whereas Our Trusty and Well-beloved BERNARD LINTOT of Our City of
London,
Bookseller, has humbly represented unto Us that he is now printing a Translation of the ILIAD of HOMER from the
Greek
in Six Volumes in Folio by ALEXANDER POPE Gent. with large Notes upon each Book: And whereas the said BERNARD LINTOT has informed Us that he has been at a great Expence in carrying on the said Work: and that the sole Right and Title of the Copy of the said Work is vested in the said BERNARD LINTOT: He has therefore humbly besought Us to grant him Our Royal Privilege and Licence for the sole printing and publishing thereof for the Term of fourteen Years. WE being graciously pleased to encourage so Useful a Work, are pleased to condescend to his Request, and do therefore hereby give and grant unto the said BERNARD LINTOT Our Royal Licence and Privilege for the sole printing and publishing the said Six Volumes of the ILIAD of HOMER translated by the said ALEXANDER POPE for and during the Term of fourteen Years, to be computed from the Day of the Date hereof; strictly charging and prohibiting all Our Subjects within Our Kingdoms and Dominions to reprint or abridge the same either in the like or any other Volume or Volumes whatsoever, or to import, buy, vend, utter or distribute any Copies of the same or any part thereof reprinted beyond the Seas within the said Term of fourteen Years, without the Consent and Approbation of the said BERNARD LINTOT, his Heirs, Executors and Assigns by Writing under his or their Hands and Seals first had and obtained, as they and every of them offending herein will answer the contrary at their Perils, and such other Penalties as by the Laws and Statutes of this Our Realm may be inflicted: Whereof the Master, Wardens and Company of Stationers of our City of
London,
Commissioners and other Officers of our Customs, and all other our Officers and Ministers whom it may concern, are to take Notice that due Obedience be given to Our Pleasure herein signified. Given at Our Court at St.
James
's the sixth Day of
May,
1715. in the first Year of Our Reign.
By His Majesty's Command,
JAMES STANHOPE.