I.

Homer opens his Poem with the utmoſt ſimplicity and modeſty; he continually grows upon the reader,

Cicero lays this down as a rule for the Orator, principia vere⯑cunda, non elatis intenſa verbis; and Horace for the Poet, Nec ſic incipies, &c. He propoſes the beginning of the Odyſſey as a pattern for all future poems, and has tranſlated them in his Art of poetry.

May I be forgiven the arrogance, if I ſhould offer a criticiſm upon this tranſlation? The ſufferings of Ulyſſes are the ſubject of the whole Odyſſey, and yet Horace has omitted the mention of thoſe ſufferings: [...]. There is another word alſo which ſeems eſſential, that is, [...], this is likewiſe omitted. For the ſufferings of Ulyſſes, and the wiſdom by which he extricated himſelf from them, enter into the very [37] deſign of the Poem. But indeed in another place he has plainly had regard to all theſe circumſtances,

I muſt alſo refute a criticiſm of Rapin, who will have it that the word [...] includes a character of craft and low cun⯑ning, unworthy of a brave ſpirit: But Euſtathius admirably vin⯑dicates the Poet in this reſpect, he ſhews us that [...] no where in Homer ſignifies ( [...]) or Morals; and that it implies a man who could accommodate himſelf to every condition of life; one who in the worſt eſtate had ſtill a reſerve to free him⯑ſelf from it; it therefore, ſays he, ſignifies a man that thro' expe⯑rience has learn'd wiſdom. I have likewiſe the authority of Ho⯑race for this ſenſe, in the above-cited paſſage, ‘Qui domitor Trojae multorum providus urbes.’ I take providus in this place to ſignify not only a man who noted the manners of various nations with care, but alſo one who in calamity could foreſee methods to extricate himſelf from it. And ſurely nothing can be more unjuſt than what Rapin objects againſt Ulyſſes, in employing his wiſdom only in his own preſer⯑vation, while all his companions were loſt: Homer himſelf ſuffi⯑ciently refutes this objection, and directly tells us, that he em⯑ployed his wiſdom in the care of their ſafety, but that they thro' their folly defeated his wiſdom. The words of Homer, ſays Eu⯑ſtathius, ſhew that a wiſe man neglects not his friends in adverſi⯑ty. But, ſays Rapin, what could oblige Homer to begin with ſo diſhonourable an action, and place the greateſt weakneſs of his Heroe in the very frontiſpiece of his Poem? and invoke his Muſe to ſing the man who with difficulty ſaved himſelf, and ſuffer'd his companions to be deſtroy'd? There had been ſome weight in this [38] objection, if Ulyſſes had ſaved his own, with the loſs of their lives; but I cannot ſee any diſhonour, in his preſerving himſelf by wiſ⯑dom, when they deſtroy'd themſelves by folly: It was chiefly by ſtorms that they periſh'd; it can be no imputation to his character, not to be able to reſtrain the effects of a tempeſt: he did all that a wiſe man cou'd do, he gave them ſuch admoniti⯑ons upon every emergency, that if they had purſued them, they had been preſerved as well as Ulyſſes.

II.

Boſſu's obſer⯑vation in relation to this Epithet [...], given to Ulyſſes, is worth tranſcribing. The Fable of the Odyſſey (ſays he) is whol⯑ly for the conduct and policy of a State: Therefore the quality it requires is Wiſdom, but this virtue is of too large an extent for the ſimplicity which a juſt and preciſe character requires; it is therefore requiſite it ſhould be limited. The great art of Kings is the myſtery of Diſſimulation. 'Tis well known, that Lewis the eleventh, for the inſtruction of his Son, reduc'd all the Latin lan⯑guage to theſe words only, viz. Qui neſcit diſſimulare neſcit reg⯑nare. 'Twas likewiſe by this practice that Saul began his reign, when he was firſt elected and as yet full of the ſpirit of God. The firſt thing we read of him in holy Writ is, ^* that he made as if he did not hear the words which ſeditious people ſpoke againſt him.

This then is the character which the Greek Poet gives his Ulyſſes in the Propoſition of his Poem, he calls him [...]; to denote this prudent diſſimulation, which diſguiſed him ſo many ways, and put him upon taking ſo many ſhapes.

Without mentioning any thing of Circe, who detain'd him with her a whole year, and who was famous for the transforma⯑tions ſhe made of all ſorts of perſons; the reader finds him at firſt with Calypſo the daughter of wiſe Atlas, who bore up the vaſt pillars that reach'd from Earth to Heaven, and whoſe know⯑ledge penetrated into the depths of the unfathomable Ocean: that [39] is to ſay, who was ignorant of nothing in Heaven, Earth, or Sea. And as the firſt product and principal part of ſo high, ſo ſolid, and ſo profound a knowledge was to know how to conceal ones ſelf; this wiſe man call'd his daughter by a name that ſignified a ^* ſecret. The Poet makes his Heroe, whom he deſigned for a Politician, to ſtay ſeven whole years with this Nymph. She taught him ſo well, that afterwards he loſt no op⯑portunity of putting her leſſons in practice: for he does nothing without a diſguiſe. At his parting from Ogygia he is caſt upon the Iſle of Phaeaca: as kind as his reception was, yet he ſtays 'till the night before he went off ere he wou'd diſcover himſelf. From thence he goes to Ithaca: the firſt adventure that happen'd to him there was with Minerva, the moſt prudent among the Dei⯑ties, as Ulyſſes was the moſt prudent among men. She ſays ſo expreſsly in that very paſſage. Nor did they fail to diſguiſe them⯑ſelves. Minerva takes upon her the ſhape of a ſhepherd, and U⯑lyſſes tells her he was oblig'd to fly from Crete, becauſe he had murder'd the ſon of King Idomeneus. The Goddeſs diſcovers her ſelf firſt, and commends him particularly, becauſe theſe artifices were ſo eaſie and natural to him, that they ſeem'd to be born with him. Afterwards the Heroe under the form of a beggar de⯑ceives firſt of all Eumeus, then his ſon, and laſt of all his wife, and every body elſe, till he found an opportunity of puniſhing his Enemies, to whom he diſcover'd not himſelf 'till he kill'd them, namely on the laſt night. After his diſcovering himſelf in the Palace, he goes the next day to deceive his father, appearing at firſt under a borrow'd name; before he wou'd give him joy of his return. Thus he takes upon him all manner of ſhapes, and diſſembles to the very laſt. But the Poet joins to this character a valour and a conſtancy which render him invincible in the moſt daring and deſperate adventures

III.

[40] Whence is it that Ulyſſes is ſaid to have overthrown Troy? and not Achilles, who was of more remarkable courage than Ulyſſes? Euſtathius tells us, that the deſtruction of Troy ought to be aſcri⯑bed chiefly to Ulyſſes, as he not only took away the Palladium, but was the inventor of the ſtratagem of the wooden horſe, by which that city was conquer'd. Virgil in his ſecond book of the Aeneis gives a noble deſcription of its deſtruction, by which we find that Ulyſſes was not only the contriver of its ruin, but bore a great ſhare in the actions of the night in which that City was overturn'd.

IV.

By this ſingle trait, Homer marks an eſſential difference between the Iliad and the Odyſſey: namely, that in the former Poem the people periſh'd by the folly of their Kings: ‘Quicquid delirunt reges, plectuntur Achivi.’ In this, the people periſh by their own folly, while their Prince omits nothing to procure their felicity. A plain reaſon why the Odyſſey is more calculated for the People, than the Iliad. Dacier.

V.

It may be ask'd why the Poet invokes the Muſe to recount only Part of the ſufferings of Ulyſſes? and why thoſe words, To Us alſo, are inſerted? To the firſt it may be anſwer'd, that an heroic Po⯑em dwells chiefly upon incidents of importance, and paſſes over every thing that does not contribute to raiſe our idea of the He⯑roe, or to the main deſign of the Poem: To the other Euſtathi⯑us anſwers ſeveral ways; either, ſays he, the word [...] is to be taken as an expletive, as it is in a thouſand places in Homer; or it means that this is a ſubject ſo conſiderable, that it will be a theme to many [41] Poets; or that being a true Hiſtory it had ſpread over many nations of the world, and that Homer himſelf received the ſtory of the Poem from Aegypt; and then the meaning will be, ‘"Sing, oh Muſe, to the Greeks as well as to other nations, the ſufferings of Ulyſſes."’ I ſhould prefer the firſt as being the moſt natural: the reſt ſeem forced, and conſequently improper for the opening of a Poem, where the utmoſt plainneſs is neceſ⯑ſary; eſpecially, if we conſider that Ulyſſes was a Grecian, and it is not probable that the Grecians ſhould be the leaſt acquainted with the ſtory, or the lateſt to celebrate the actions, of a Grecian.

VI.

It is neceſſary for the better underſtanding of the Poem, to fix the period of Time from which it takes its beginning: Homer, as Euſtathius obſerves, does not begin with the wandrings of U⯑lyſſes, he ſteps at once into the latter end of his actions, and leaves the preceding ſtory to be told by way of narration. Thus in his Iliad, he dates his Poem from the anger of Achilles, which happen'd almoſt at the concluſion of the Trojan war. From hence Horace drew his obſervation in his Arte Poet.

There are but forty eight days from the departure of Ulyſſes from Calypſo, to his diſcovery in Ithaca; he had been one year with Circe, and ſeven with Calypſo, when the Gods diſpatched Mer⯑cury to that Goddeſs; from which point of Time we are to date the Odyſſey.

This obſervation gives a reaſon why the Poet invokes the Muſe to recount the wandrings of this Heroe in part only; for Ulyſſes, as appears from the beginning of the ninth book, after he left the ſhores of Troy, was driven to Iſmarus of the Ciconians. [42] An Hiſtorian muſt have begun from the fall of Troy, and related his wandrings with truth and order; for Hiſtory is chiefly for inſtruction: But a Poet takes another method, and diſpoſes every circumſtance arbitrarily; he chuſes or rejects, as ſuits beſt with his principal deſign, and in ſuch a manner as to give at once de⯑light and inſtruction.

VII.

To the Remark before cited of Boſſu, upon the abode of Ulyſſes with Calypſo, may be added this of the Abbè Fraguier: that his reſi⯑ding ſeven years in the caves of Calypſo, (the Goddeſs of Secrecy) may only be meant that he remain'd ſo long hid from the know⯑ledge and enquiry of all men; or that whatever befel him in all that time was loſt to Hiſtory, or made no part in the Poem.

VIII.

It may be ask'd why Neptune is thus enraged againſt Ulyſſes? Homer himſelf tells us, it was becauſe that Heroe had put out the eye of his ſon Cyclops. But if we take Neptune by way of Allegory for the Ocean, the paſſage implies, that the ſufferings of Ulyſſes were chiefly by ſea; and therefore Poetry, which adds a grandeur to the meaneſt circumſtance, introduces the God of it as his greateſt ene⯑my. Euſtathius.

IX.

Strabo in his firſt book de⯑livers his opinion, that ‘"the ancient Grecians included all thoſe people who lived upon the ſouthern Ocean, from eaſt to weſt, in the general name of Aethiopians, and that it was not confi⯑ned to thoſe only who lay ſouth of Aegypt."’ Ptolomy ſays, [43] that ‘"under the Zodiac, from eaſt to weſt, inhabit the Aethio⯑pians, black of colour."’ And elſewhere the ſame Geographer divides Aethiopia into the eaſtern and the weſtern. Theſe eaſtern and weſtern Aethiopians were ſeparated by the Arabian or Aegyp⯑tian Gulf; which tho' never mention'd by Homer, as Ariſtarchus remark'd, yet it is not probable (ſays Strabo) that he ſhould be ignorant of it, it being but a thouſand ſtadia diſtant from the Mediterranean, when he knew the Aegyptian Thebes, which was four times as far off. Strab. Plin. Spondan.

I will not repeat what was obſerv'd upon the Gods being gone to the Aethiopians, in the firſt book of the Iliad; 'tis ſufficient in general to obſerve, that the Aethiopians were a people very religi⯑ous towards the Gods, and that they held a pompous feaſt twelve days annually to their honour; and in particular, that the Poet very judiciouſly makes uſe of this ſolemnity to remove Neptune out of the way, who was the enemy of Ulyſſes, that he may with the greater ſecurity bring off his Heroe from Calypſo's Iſland. Euſtathius.

X.

It is difficult to find a reaſon why, in the original, Jupiter ſhou'd give ſuch an honourable appellation to Ae⯑gyſthus, as [...], unblameable, who had diſhonoured the bed of Agamemnon, and taken his life away; eſpecially in that very inſtant when he condemns the fact with ſo great ſolemnity: Euſtathius ſays, that Homer, an enemy to cenſure and invective, introduces that God as having reſpect only to his good qualities, and com⯑mending him for his general character; and adds that it had been an indecency in the Poet to have given countenance to that baſe cuſtom by the authority of Jupiter. Dacier is not ſatisfy'd with this reaſon, and tells us, that Homer gives Aegyſthus this title, to vindicate Jupiter from the imputation of his crimes: He gives us to underſtand that Heaven is not the cauſe of man's failings; that he is by Creation able to act virtuouſly, and that it is thro' his own miſconduct that he deviates into evil; and therefore the [44] meaning is this; ‘"Jupiter calling to mind Aegyſthus, that Aegyſthus whom he had created wiſe and virtuous, and made capable to ſu⯑ſtain that character."’ And this agrees admirably with the begin⯑ning of the ſpeech of Jupiter, who there vindicates his own Divinity.

But if this ſhou'd ſeem too refin'd, it may be ſufficient to take the word in that good ſenſe which Aegyſthus might have deſerved for many good qualities: Thus Achilles is call'd the ſwift of foot, even while he ſtands, or ſleeps; the firſt being his general character. It may be further confirm'd by a paſſage ſomething reſembling it in the holy Scriptures: The Aegyptian Midwives were guilty of a lye to Pharaoh, and yet God pardons it, and bleſſes them: He bleſſes them not becauſe they lyed, but becauſe they preſerv'd the children of the Iſraelites.

XI.

The ſolemnity and ſenten⯑tiouſneſs of this ſpeech is taken notice of by Euſtathius; and ſure⯑ly Poetry muſt be highly valuable, when it delivers ſuch excellent inſtructions. It contain'd the whole of religion amongſt the an⯑tients; and made Philoſophy more agreeable. This paſſage is an inſtance of it, a paſſage worthy of a Chriſtian; it ſhews us that the Supreme Being is ſovereignly good; that he rewards the juſt, and puniſhes the unjuſt; and that the folly of man, and not the decree of Heaven, is the cauſe of human calamity.

XII.

It would be endleſs to ob⯑ſerve every moral paſſage in the Odyſſey, the whole of it being but one leſſon of Morality. But ſurely it muſt be a pleaſure to the Reader to learn what notions the antients had of a Deity, from the oldeſt book extant, except the book of Moſes.

[45] Jupiter here declares that he never fails to warn mankind from evil, and that he had ſent by Mercury for this purpoſe to Aegy⯑ſthus. It may be ask'd what is this Mercury whom Jupiter ſends? It is the light of Nature, which Heaven implants in the breaſt of every man: and which, as Cicero ſays, is not only more ancient than the world, but co-eval with the Maſter of the world himſelf. He writes to this effect. There was from the beginning ſuch a thing as Reaſon, a direct emanation from Nature it ſelf, which prompted to good, and averted from evil. A Reaſon which did not then become a law, when it was firſt reduced to writing, but was ſo even from the moment it exiſted, and it exiſted from ever, of an equal date with the divine Intelligence: It is the true and primordial Law, proper to com⯑mand and to forbid, it is the Reaſon of the great Jupiter.

That Reaſon of the ſupreme Being, is here call'd Mercury; that Reaſon flowing from God, which is conſtantly dictating to the moſt corrupted hearts, this is good, or, this is evil. Hence aroſe an ancient Proverb, recorded by Simplicius, Reaſon is a Mercury to all men. Epictetus [lib. 3. Arrian.] ſays, Apollo knew that Laius would not obey his Oracle. Apollo nevertheleſs did not ne⯑glect to prophecy to Laius thoſe evils that threaten'd him. The good⯑neſs of the Divinity never fails to advertiſe mankind; that ſource of truth is ever open and free: but men are ever incredulous, diſobedi⯑ent and rebellious. Dacier.

XIII.

It may be ask'd what re⯑lation Ulyſſes has to Aegyſthus, that the mention of the one ſhould immediately give occaſion for the remembrance of the other? and it may appear unnatural in the Poet to give riſe to his Poem by ſo unexpected a tranſition from Aegyſthus to Ulyſſes. Euſta⯑thius vindicates Homer, by ſhewing that it is not only beautiful but na⯑tural, to take riſe from what offers it ſelf to our immediate obſervation. What can be more natural, when Jupiter is relating how he puniſh⯑es the wicked, than for Wiſdom or Minerva to ſuggeſt, that the good ought to be rewarded? There is no forced introduction; [46] no artful preparation, but the whole ariſes from the occaſion, which is a great beauty.

XIV.

There was, according to true Hiſtory, ſuch an Iſland of Calypſo, of which Strabo writes; that Solon gives an account of the Iſland Atlantis bordering upon Aegypt, and that he went thither to make enquiry, and learn'd that an Iſland was once there, but by time was vaniſhed. Euſtathius.

XV.

Atlas is here ſaid to underſtand all the depths of the Sea: but the Epithet [...] apply'd to him, has two different ſigni⯑fications. It implies either, one whoſe thoughts are full of terrible and diſmal things, or, one who has infinite knowledge and unbounded views, and 'tis doubtful which of them Homer means. To re⯑concile both, may we not think our Author had heard ſomething of the ancient tradition which makes Atlas the ſame perſon with Enoch, and repreſents him as a great Aſtronomer, who prophe⯑cy'd of the univerſal deluge, and exhorted mankind to repentance? Therefore he nam'd his ſon Methuſelah, to ſhow that after his death the waters ſhou'd overſpread the face of the earth. His continual lamentations on this occaſion caus'd him to be call'd the Weeper, for the world is always an enemy to melancholy pre⯑dictions. Thus Homer upon the credit of this Tradition might ve⯑ry well call Atlas, one whoſe thoughts ran upon diſmal things, or one whoſe views and cares were vaſtly extended.

I inſiſt no otherwiſe upon this but as a conjecture, yet it is fur⯑ther ſtrengthen'd by what follows in the next lines: That Atlas [47] ſuſtains thoſe Columns which being fixed upon the earth ſupport the Heavens. This is generally interpreted of his great skill in A⯑ſtronomy and Geography. But may not the reaſon be more par⯑ticular? Since Atlas or Enoch had prophecy'd of the Deluge, and ſince that prediction was looked upon as the effect of his skill in Aſtronomy; might it not be ſaid he knew the abyſſes of the Sea, and ſuſtain'd the pillars of Heaven, to expreſs that he knew how the fountains of the deep and the waters above the Heavens ſhou'd unite to drown the earth?

As to the image of the pillars of Heaven, it is frequent in the ſacred books, and uſed to expreſs the height of vaſt mountains. (Pindar calls Aetna the [...]:) and there might proba⯑bly be ſomething more particular that furniſhed Homer with this idea; I mean the pillars of Hercules, well-known in his time, and neighbouring to the mountain he deſcribes. Dacier.

See the deſcription of this mountain in the 4th book of Virgil, where the ſame image is preſerv'd without any hint of allegory: As indeed it is no more than a poetical manner of expreſſing the great height and extenſive proſpect of the mountain.

XVI.

There is an agreeable tenderneſs in this Image, and nothing can better paint the ardent deſire a man naturally has to review his native country after a long abſence. This is ſtill ſtronger than that which Cicero extols in ſeveral places of his works, that Ulyſſes preferr'd the ſight of Ithaca to the Immortality proffer'd him by Calypſo. He here deſires to purchaſe, at the price of his life, the pleaſure, not of returning to his country, but even of ſeeing at a diſtance the very ſmoke of it. Dacier.

There are ſome things diſpers'd in this ſpeech of Pallas, which I ſhall lay together; as that Minerva makes it an aggravation to the calamity of Ulyſſes, to be detain'd by a Goddeſs that loves him; that he is encloſed in an Iſland; and ſhe adds, round which the Seas flow; as if that was not common to all Iſlands; but theſe [48] expreſſions are uſed to ſhew the impoſſibility of the eſcape of Ulyſſes, without the interpoſition of Jupiter.

In the concluſion ſhe obſerves, that Ulyſſes never neglected to ſacrifice before Troy: this is ſaid to ſhew the great piety of Ulyſſes, who not only paid his ſacrifices in Ithaca, where he abounded in riches, but amongſt ſtrangers in an enemy's country, where there might be a ſcarcity of offerings. Euſtathius.

XVII.

This verſe is frequently repeated both in the Iliad and the Odyſſey; it has here a particu⯑lar energy. Jupiter reproves Minerva for ſuppoſing he could ever be unmindful of an Heroe ſo pious as Ulyſſes. It is ſpoken with vehemence; an inſtance, ſays Euſtathius, that it is not only equita⯑ble, but an attribute of Divinity, for rulers to remember thoſe who ſerve them faithfully.

XVIII.

It is artful in the Poet to tell the Reader the occaſion of the ſufferings of Ulyſſes in the opening of the Poem; 'tis a juſtice due to his character, to ſhew that his misfortunes are not the conſequence of his crimes, but the effect of Neptune's anger.

It is obſervable, that Homer does not ſtop to explain how U⯑lyſſes put out the eye of the Cyclops; he haſtens forward into the middle of his Poem, and leaves that for the future narration of Ulyſſes.

XIX.

Rapin has rais'd ſeveral objections againſt this piece of conduct in Homer: He tells us that the action of the Odyſſey is imperfect, that it begins with the voyages of Telemachus, and ends with thoſe [49] of Ulyſſes: That the four firſt books are all concerning Tele⯑machus: That his voyage bears no proportion to that of Ulyſſes, that it contributes nothing to his return, which is brought about by Jupiter, and the aſſiſtance of the Phaeacians; that this gave occaſion to Beni in his academical diſcourſes to aſſert, that the Fable of the Odyſſey is double, that the four firſt books of it are neither Epiſode, nor part of an action, nor have any connexion with the reſt of the work.

I am of opinion, that theſe objections are made with too great ſeverity; The deſtruction of the Suitors is the chief hinge upon which the Poem turns, as it contributes chiefly to the re-eſtabliſhment of Ulyſſes in his country and regality; and whatever contributes to this end, contributes to the principal action, and is of a piece with the reſt of the Poem; and that this voyage does ſo is evident, in that it gives a defeat to the Suitors, and controuls their inſolence; it preſerves Ulyſſes's throne and bed invi⯑olate, in that it gives Telemachus courage to reſiſt their attempts: It ſets his character in a fair point of light, who is the ſecond perſonage of the Poem, and is to have a great ſhare in the future actions of it.

Euſtathius judiciouſly obſerves, that Homer here prepares the way for the defeat of the Suitors, the chief deſign of his Poem; and lays the ground-work of probability on which he intends to build his Poem, and reconcile it to the rules of credibility.

If it be ask'd for what end this voyage of Telemachus is made; the anſwer is, to enquire after Ulyſſes: So that whatever Epiſodes are interwoven, Ulyſſes is ſtill in view; and whatever Telemachus acts, is undertaken ſolely upon his account; and conſequently, whatever is acted, contributes to the principal deſign, the reſto⯑ration of Ulyſſes. So that the Fable is entire, and the Action not double.

'Tis to be remember'd alſo, that the ſufferings of Ulyſſes are the ſubject of the Poem; his perſonal calamities are not only in⯑tended, but his domeſtic misfortunes; and by this conduct Ho⯑mer ſhews us the extent of his misfortunes: His Queen is at⯑tempted, his Throne threaten'd, and his Wealth conſumed in riot; [50] Ulyſſes ſuffers in Telemachus, and in every circumſtance of life is unhappy.

XX.

Rapin is very ſevere upon this conduct. When Telemachus, ſays he, is to ſearch for his father in the Courts of Greece, he cannot make the leaſt progreſs without Minerva; 'tis ſhe who in⯑ſpires his thoughts, and aſſiſts in the execution. Could not ho⯑nour, duty, or nature, have moved his heart toward an abſent fa⯑ther? The Machine, adds he, has not the leaſt appearance of probability, inaſmuch as the Goddeſs conducts him to every place, except only where Ulyſſes reſides; of which ſhe ought by no means to be ignorant, upon the account of her Divinity.

But ſurely nothing can be be more natural, than for a ſon, in order to gain intelligence of an abſent father, to enquire in thoſe places, and of thoſe perſons, where and from whom he is moſt likely to have information. Such is the conduct of Telemachus: And Poetry, which delights in the Wonderful, becauſe this conduct agrees with wiſdom, aſcribes it to Minerva the Goddeſs of it. No doubt but Minerva knew where Ulyſſes reſided: but men muſt act as men: ſuch an immediate interpoſition as Rapin re⯑quires, had ſtopp'd at once the fountain of the Poet's invention. If what a Poet invents be natural, it is juſtifiable; and he may give the rein to his imagination, if he reſtrain it from running into extravagance and wildneſs.

XXI.

In this the Poet draws the out-lines of what he is to fill up in the four ſubſequent books: and nothing can give us a greater idea of his unbounded invention, than his building upon ſo plain a foundation ſuch a noble ſuperſtructure: He entertains us with variety of Epiſodes, hiſtorical relations, and manners of thoſe [51] ancient times. It muſt be confeſs'd, that the Characters in the Odyſſey, and the number of the chief Actors, are but few; and yet the Poet never tires, he varies and diverſifies the ſtory ſo happily, that he is continually opening new ſcenes to engage our attention. He reſembles his own Proteus, he is capable of all ſhapes, yet in all ſhapes the ſame Deity.

XXII.

We are told by tradition, that Homer was ſo ſenſible of friendſhip, that to do honour to his particular friends, he immortalized their names in his Poems. In the Iliad he has ſhewn his gratitude to Tychius; and in the Odyſſey, to Mentes, Phemius, and Mentor. This Mentes was a famous Merchant of the iſle of Leucade, who re⯑ceived Homer at Smyrna, and made him his companion in all his voyages. It is to this Mentes we owe the two Poems of Homer, for the Poet in all probability had never wrote them without thoſe lights and informations he receiv'd, and the diſcoveries he was enabled to make, by thoſe travels. Homer is not contented to give his name to the King of the Taphians, but feigns alſo that the Goddeſs of Wiſdom choſe to appear in his ſhape, preferably to that of all the Kings who were nearer neighbours to Ithaca. Euſtathius thinks there might have been a real King of Taphos of this name, who was a friend to Ulyſſes. This may poſſibly be; but I would chuſe to adhere rather to the old tradition, as it does honour to friendſhip. Dacier.

XXIII.

This is the firſt appearance of the Suitors; and the Poet has drawn their pictures in ſuch colours, as are agreeable to their characters thro' the whole Poem. They are, as Horace expreſſes it,

The Poet gives a fine contraſt between them and Telemachus; he entertains himſelf with his own thoughts, weighs the ſum of things, and beholds with a virtuous ſorrow the diſorders of the Suitors: He appears, (like Ulyſſes among his transform'd compani⯑ons in the tenth book,) a wife man, among brutes.

XXIV.

There are great diſputes what this Game was, at which the Sui⯑tors play'd? Athenaeus relates it from Apian the Grammarian, who had it from Cteſon a native of Ithaca, that the ſport was in this manner. The number of the Suitors being 108, they equally divided their men, or balls; that is to ſay, 54 on each ſide; theſe were placed on the board oppoſite to each other. Between the two ſides was a vacant ſpace, in the midſt of which was the main mark, or Queen, the point which all were to aim at. They took their turns by lot; he who took or diſplac'd that mark, got his own in its place; and if by a ſecond man, he again took it, without touching any of the others, he won the game; and it paſs'd as an omen of obtaining his miſtreſs. This principal mark, or Queen, was called by whatever name the Gameſters pleas'd; and the Suitors gave it the name of Penelope.

'Tis ſaid, this Game was invented by Palamedes during the ſiege of Troy. [Sophocles in Palam.] Euſtath. Spondan. Dacier.

XXV.

The Reader will loſe much of the pleaſure of this Poem, if he reads it without the reflection, that he peruſes one of the moſt [53] ancient books in the world; it ſets before him perſons, places, and actions that exiſted three thouſand years ago: Here we have an inſtance of the humanity of thoſe early ages: Telemachus pays a reverence to this ſtranger, only becauſe he is a ſtranger: He attends him in perſon, and welcomes him with all the openneſs of ancient hoſpitality.

XXVI.

There is nothing that has drawn more ridicule upon Homer, than the frequent deſcripti⯑ons of his entertainments: It has been judged, that he was more than ordinarily delighted with them, ſince he omits no opportu⯑nity to deſcribe them; nay, his temperance has not been unſuſ⯑pected, according to that verſe of Horace, ‘Laudibus arguitur vini vinoſus Homerus.’ But we muſt not condemn, without ſtronger evidence: a man may commend a ſumptuous entertainment, or good wines, with⯑out being either a drunkard or a glutton. But ſince there are ſo many entertainments deſcrib'd in the Poem, it may not be im⯑proper to give this ſome explanation.

They waſh before the feaſt; perhaps, ſays Euſtathius, becauſe they always at the feaſt made libations to the Gods. The Ewer was of gold, the veſſel from whence the water was pour'd of ſil⯑ver, and the cups out of which they drank were of gold.

A damſel attends Mentes, but heralds wait upon the Suitors: Euſtathius obſerves a decency in this conduct; the Suitors were lewd debauchees, and conſequently a woman of modeſty would have been an improper attendant upon ſuch a company. Beauti⯑ful Youths attended the company in quality of cup-bearers.

A Matron who has charge of the houſhold ( [...]) brings in the bread and the cold meats, for ſo Euſtathius interprets [...]; an Officer, whoſe employ it was to portion out the victuals, brings in the meats that furniſh'd out the reſt of the entertain⯑ment; [54] and after the feaſt, a Bard diverts them with vocal and inſtrumental muſic.

Dacier is in great pain about the cold victuals; ſhe is afraid leſt the Reader ſhould think them the leavings of a former day: and tells us they might poſſibly be in the nature of our cold Tongues, Jambons, &c. But I think ſuch fears to be groundleſs: We muſt have reference to the cuſtoms of thoſe early ages; and if it was cuſtomary for cold meats to be ſerv'd up, (neither is it ne⯑ceſſary to ſuppoſe them the leavings of the former entertainment) it can be no diſgrace to the hoſpitality of Telemachus.

XXVII.

In ancient times, Princes entertain'd in their families certain learn⯑ed and wiſe men, who were both Poets and Philoſophers, and not only made it their buſineſs to amuſe and delight, but to pro⯑mote wiſdom and morality. Ulyſſes, at his departure for Troy, left one of theſe with Penelope: and it was uſual to conſign, in this manner, the care of their wives and families to the Poets of thoſe days, as appears from a ſignal paſſage in the third book, verſe (of the original) 267, &c. To this man Homer gives the name of Phemius; to celebrate one of his friends, who was ſo call'd, and who had been his Praeceptor (ſays Euſtathius). I muſt add one remark, that tho' he places his Maſter here in no very good company, yet he guards his character from any imputation, by telling us, that he attended the Suitors by compulſion. This is not only a great inſtance of his gratitude, but alſo of his ten⯑derneſs and delicacy.

XXVIII.

'Tis evident, from this and many places in the Iliad, that Hoſpitality was here⯑ditary; an happineſs and honour peculiar to theſe heroic ages. And ſurely nothing can ſet the character of Ulyſſes in a more [55] agreeable point of light, than what Telemachus here delivers of it; ‘"He was the friend of all mankind."’ Euſtathius obſerves, that [...] has a middle ſignification; that it implies that Ulyſſes behav'd benevolently to all men; or that all men behaved benevolently to Ulyſſes; either ſenſe makes Ulyſſes a very ami⯑able perſon: He muſt be a friend to all men, to whom all men are friends.

XXIX.

In the country of the Brutians, in the lower part of Italy, was a town call'd Temeſe. That Homer here meant this city, and not one of the ſame name in Cyprus, appears not only becauſe this was famous for works of braſs, but becauſe (as Strabo obſerves) Ithaca lay in the direct way from Taphos to this city of the Bru⯑tii; whereas it was conſiderably out of the way to paſs by Ithaca to that of Cyprus. The ſame Author ſays, that the rooms for preparing of braſs were remaining in his time; tho' then out of uſe. Ovid. Met. 15. ‘Hippotadaeque domos regis, Temeſeſque metalla.’ And Statius, Sylv. ‘—ſe totis Temeſe dedit hauſta metallis.’ Bochart is of opinion, that the name of Temeſe was given to this town by the Phenicians, from the braſs it produced, Temes in their language ſignifying Fuſion of Metals: an Art to which the Phenicians much apply'd themſelves. Euſtat. Dacier.

XXX.

This moſt beautiful paſ⯑ſage of Laertes has not eſcap'd the cenſure of the Critics; they ſay [56] acts an unmanly part, he forgets that he is a King, and reduces himſelf unworthily into the condition of a ſervant. Euſtathius gives two reaſons for his retirement, which anſwer thoſe objections; the firſt is, that he could not endure to ſee the outrage and inſo⯑lence of the Suitors; the ſecond, that his Grief for Ulyſſes makes him abandon ſociety, and prefer his vineyard to his Court. This is undoubtedly the picture of human nature under affliction; for ſorrow loves ſolitude. Thus it is, as Dacier well obſerves, that Menedemus in Terence laments his loſt Son: Menedemus is the Picture of Laertes. Nor does it make any difference, that the one is a King, the other a perſon of private ſtation: Kings are but enobled humanity, and are liable, as other men, to as great, if not greater, ſenſibility.

The word [...] (creeping about his vineyard) has alſo given offence, as it carries an idea of meanneſs with it; but Euſtathius obſerves, that it excellently expreſſes the melancholy of Laertes, and denotes no meanneſs of ſpirit: The ſame word is apply'd to the great Achilles in the Iliad, when he laments at the Obſequies of Patroclus; and Horace no doubt had it in his view, ‘—Tacitum ſylvas inter-reptare ſalubreis.’

XXXI.

It is the obſer⯑vation of Euſtathius, that what Minerva here delivers bears re⯑ſemblance to the Oracles, in which part is falſe, part true: That Ulyſſes is detain'd in an Iſland, is a truth; that he is detain'd by Barbarians, a falſhood: This is done by the Goddeſs, that ſhe may be thought to be really a man, as ſhe appears to be; ſhe ſpeaks with the dubiouſneſs of a man, not the certainty of a Goddeſs; ſhe raiſes his expectation, by ſhewing ſhe has an inſight into fu⯑turity; and to engage his belief, ſhe diſcovers in part the truth to Telemachus. Neither was it neceſſary or convenient for Telemachus to know the whole truth: for if he had known that Ulyſſes in⯑habited a deſart, detain'd by a Goddeſs, he muſt of conſequence [57] have known of his return, (for he that could certify the one, could certify the other,) and ſo had never gone in ſearch of him; and it would hence have happen'd, that Homer had been depriv'd of giving us thoſe graces of Poetry which ariſe from the voyage of Telemachus. Euſtathius.

XXXII.

There is an ap⯑pearance of ſomething very ſhocking in this ſpeech of Telemachus. It literally runs thus: My mother aſſures me that I am the ſon of Ulyſſes, but I know it not. It ſeems to reflect upon his mother's chaſtity, as if he had a doubt of his own legitimacy. This ſeeming ſimplicity in Telemachus, ſays Euſtathius, is the effect of a troubled ſpirit; it is grief that makes him doubt if he can be the ſon of the great, the generous Ulyſſes; it is no reflection upon Penelope, and conſequently no fault in Telemachus: It is an undoubted truth that the mother only knows the legitimacy of the child: Thus Euripides, ‘ [...]’ that is, The mother knows the child, the father only believes it,

Thus alſo Menander,

that is, No man knows aſſuredly who begot him, we only gueſs it, and believe it.

Ariſtotle in his Rhetoric is alſo of this opinion; ‘ [...]’ What I have here ſaid, is tranſlated literally from Euſtathius, and if it edifies the Reader I am content. But the meaning of the [58] paſſage is this, Mentes asks Telemachus if he be the ſon of Ulyſſes; he replies, ‘"So my mother aſſures me; but nothing ſure ſo wretched as I am could proceed from that great man."’

But however this may be reconciled to truth, I believe few Ladies would take it as a compliment, if their ſons ſhou'd tell them there was ſome room to doubt of their legitimacy: there may be abundance of truth in it, and yet very little decency.

XXXIII.

The meaning of this expreſſion is, that Ulyſſes has not had the rites of ſepulture. This among the Ancients was eſteem'd the greateſt of calamities, as it hinder'd the Shades of the deceaſed from entering into the ſtate of the happy.

XXXIV.

It is neceſſary to reconcile the conduct of the Suitors to proba⯑bility, ſince it has ſo great a ſhare in the proceſs of the Odyſſey. It may ſeem incredible that Penelope, who is a Queen, in whom the ſupreme power is lodg'd, ſhould not diſmiſs ſuch unwelcome intruders, eſpecially ſince many of them were her own ſubjects: Beſides, it ſeems an extraordinary way of courtſhip in them, to ruin the perſon to whom they make their addreſſes.

To ſolve this objection we muſt conſider the nature of the Grecian governments: The chief men of the land had great autho⯑rity; Tho' the government was monarchical, it was not de⯑ſpotic; Laertes was retir'd, and diſabled with age; Telemachus was yet in his minority; and the fear of any violence either againſt her own perſon, or againſt her ſon, might deter Penelope from uſing any endeavours to remove men of ſuch inſolence, and ſuch power. Dacier.

XXXV.

It is neceſſary to explain this paſſage. It ſeems at firſt view, as if Ulyſſes had requeſted what a good man could not grant. Ilus, ſays Mentes, deny'd the Poiſon, becauſe he fear'd the anger of the Gods; and the poiſon it ſelf is call'd by Homer [...], as if it were deſign'd againſt mankind. Euſtathius defends Ulyſſes va⯑riouſly: He intended, ſays he, to employ it againſt beaſts only, that infeſted his country, or in hunting. He aſſigns another reaſon, and ſays that the Poet is preparing the way to give an air of probability to the deſtruction of the Suitors. He poiſons his arrows, that every wound may be mortal; on this account the poiſon may be call'd [...]; for it is certain in the wars of Troy, poiſon'd arrows were not in uſe, for many perſons who were wounded recover'd; ſo that of neceſſity they muſt be re⯑ſerv'd for domeſtic occaſions. From what has been ſaid we may collect the reaſon why Anchialus granted the poiſon to Ulyſſes, and Ilus deny'd it; Anchialus was the friend of Ulyſſes, and knew that he would not employ it to any ill purpoſe; but Ilus, who was a ſtranger to him, was afraid leſt he ſhould abuſe it. Euſtathius.

XXXVI.

I will lay before the reader literally what Euſtathius obſerves upon theſe words. There is a Soloeciſm, ſays he, in theſe verſes or words, that cannot be reduc'd to the rules of conſtruction. It ſhould be [...], not [...]. How then comes the accuſative caſe to be uſed inſtead of the nominative? Mentes, adds he, may be ſuppos'd to have intended to have ſaid [...] (ſend thy Mo⯑ther away;) but conſidering, in the midſt of the Sentence, that ſuch advice was not ſuitable to be given to Telemachus, he checks himſelf, and ſuppreſſes [...]; and no other word immedi⯑ately [60] occurring, that requir'd an accuſative caſe, he falls into a Soloeciſm.

But perhaps this is more ingenious than true; tho' Mentes was in haſte when he ſpoke it, Homer was not when he compos'd it. Might not an errour creep into the original by the negligence of a Tranſcriber, who might write [...] for [...]? This is the more probable, becauſe the one ſtands in the Verſe in every reſpect as well as the other.

What Euſtathius adds is very abſurd: he ſays that Telemachus muſt obſerve both the interpretations, either ſend thy Mother a⯑way, or let thy Mother retire. So that the advice was double, ſend thy Mother away if thou doſt not love her; but if thou art unwilling to grieve her, let her receſs be voluntary.

XXXVII.

There is a difficulty in this Paſſage. In any caſe of enquiry, any Words that were heard by accident were call'd by the Latins, Omens; by Homer, the voice of Jupiter; and he ſtiles them ſo, becauſe it is thro' his providence that thoſe words come to our knowledge: [...] ſignifies fame or rumour; and the Ancients refer'd all voices or ſounds to Jupiter; and ſtill'd him [...]. So that the voice of Jove im⯑plies any words that we hear by chance, from whence we can draw any thing that gives light to our concerns or enquiries. Dacier. Euſtathius.

XXXVIII.

It may ſeem that this example of Oreſtes does not come fully up to the purpoſe in⯑tended: There is a wide difference in the circumſtances: Oreſtes ſlew an adulterer, and a ſingle perſon, with an adultereſs. The de⯑ſigns of Telemachus are not againſt one, but many enemies; neither are they adulterers, nor have they ſlain the father of Telemachus, as is [61] the caſe of Oreſtes: nor is Penelope an adultereſs. The intent therefore of the Goddeſs is only to ſhew what a glorious act it is to defend our parents: Oreſtes, ſays Mentes, is every where celebrated for honouring his father, and thou ſhalt obtain equal honour by defending thy mother.

The ſenſe that [...] here bears is remarkable, it ſigni⯑fies not only a perſon who kills his own father, but who kills the father of any other perſon. Euſtathius.

XXXIX.

I paſs over the ſeveral interpretations that have been given to the word [...]; ſome ſay it implies ſhe flew up the chimney, &c. In reality it ſignifies a ſpecies of an eagle; but it may alſo ſigni⯑fie the ſame as [...] (inviſible,) either of the latter ſenſes are na⯑tural, or both together, like an eagle ſhe diſappear'd. Euſtathius.

XL.

There may be two reaſons why this is inſerted; either the Suitors were pleas'd with the ſweetneſs of the ſong, or the ſubject of it; they ſate attentive to hear the death of Ulyſſes, in the proceſs of his ſtory. This gives us a reaſon why immediately Penelope deſcended to ſtop the ſong; ſhe fear'd leſt he might touch upon the ſtory of Ulyſſes, and ſay that he dy'd in his return. This would have reduc'd her to the utmoſt neceſſity, and ſhe could not have deferr'd to marry. Phemius would have certainly found credit, for Poets were believ'd to be inſpir'd by the Gods; they were look'd upon as Prophets, and to have ſomething of divinity in them, as appears from Demodocus in the 8th book of the Odyſſey. Beſides there was a further neceſſity to put a ſtop to the ſong. If Phemius had declar'd him to be dead, Penelope could not have avoided marriage; if alive, the Suitors might have deſiſted, [62] or arm'd themſelves againſt Ulyſſes, and then their Deaths, one of the principal incidents of the Poem, could not have follow'd; neither could Telemachus have gone in ſearch of his father, if he had foreknown his death, or ſudden return. It is therefore art⯑ful in the Poet to cut the ſong ſhort, he reſerves the ſtory of Ulyſſes for future narration, and brings all this about by a very probable method, by the interpoſition of Penelope, who requeſts that ſome other ſtory may be choſen, a ſtory that ſhe can hear without ſorrow.

It is very cuſtomary for women to be preſent at the entertain⯑ments of men; as appears from the conduct of Helen, Arete, Nauſicaa, and Penelope in divers parts of the Odyſſey: She is here introduced with the greateſt decency; ſhe enters not the room, but ſtands with tears at the threſhold; and even at that diſtance appears with her face ſhaded by a veil. Euſtathius.

XLI.

Telemachus here reproves his mother for commanding Phemius to deſiſt, or not to make Ulyſſes the ſubject of his ſong: by ſaying, that it was not in the Poet's own power to chuſe his ſubject, which was frequent⯑ly dictated and inſpired by the Gods. This is a particular inſtance of the opinion the Ancients held as to the immediate inſpiration of their Poets. The words in the original evidently bear this ſenſe. If the ſubject diſpleaſe you, 'tis not the Poet but Jupiter is to blame, who inſpires men of invention, as he himſelf pleaſes. And Mad. Da⯑cier ſtrangely miſtakes this paſſage, in rendring it, 'tis not the Poet but Jupiter who is the cauſe of our misfortunes, for 'tis he who diſ⯑penſes to wretched mortals good or evil as he pleaſes. At the ſame time ſhe acknowledges the word [...], which ſhe here ren⯑ders laborious, or wretched, to ſignify perſons of wit, in the begin⯑ning of lib. 4. and perſons of skill and ability in their art, in lib. 11.

XLII.

Theſe verſes are taken literally from the 6th book of the Iliad, except that [...] is inſerted inſtead of [...]; Euſtathius ex⯑plains the paſſage thus: Women are not forbid entirely to ſpeak, for women are talking animals, [...], they have the faculty of talking, and indeed are rational creatures; but they muſt not give too much liberty to that unruly member, in the company of men. Sophocles adviſes well, ‘ [...]’ O woman, ſilence is the ornament of thy ſex. Madam Dacier, tho' ſhe plunders almoſt every thing, has ſpared this obſervation.

XLIII.

Antinous and Eury⯑machus are Ithacenſians, and are call'd the chief of the Suitors. It is therefore neceſſary to diſtinguiſh their characters; Antinous is violent, and determin'd againſt Ulyſſes; Eurymachus more gentle and ſubtle: Antinous derides, Eurymachus flatters.

This ſpeech of Antinous is a conceal'd raillery; he tells Tele⯑machus, that Jove inſpires his ſoul with wiſdom, but means that his education has been ſuch, that he had learn'd nothing from man; he wiſhes (out of a ſeemingly kind concern for him) that he may never reign in Ithaca, becauſe the weight of a crown is a burthen; and concludes with mentioning his heredi⯑tary title to it, to inſinuate that is his by deſcent only, and not by merit.

Telemachus, in his anſwer, wiſely diſſembles the affront of Anti⯑nous, he takes it in the better ſenſe, and ſeems to differ only in opinion about the Regality. Think you, ſays he, that to be a King is to be miſerable? To be a King, in my judgment, is to [64] enjoy affluence and honour. He aſſerts his claim to the ſucceſſi⯑on of his father, yet ſeems to decline it, to lay the ſuſpicions of the Suitors aſleep, that they may not prevent the meaſures he takes to obtain it. Euſtathius.

The ſpeech of Eurymachus confirms the former obſervation, that this Suitor is of a more ſoft and moderate behaviour than An⯑tinous: He cloaths ill deſigns with a ſeeming humanity, and ap⯑pears a friend, while he carries on the part of an enemy: Telemachus had ſaid, that if it was the will of Jupiter, he would aſcend the Throne of Ithaca: Eurymachus anſwers, that this was as the Gods ſhou'd determine; an inſinuation that they regarded not his claim from his father. Telemachus ſaid he would maintain himſelf in the poſſeſſion of his preſent inheritance: Eurymachus wiſhes that no one may arrive to diſpoſſeſs him; the latent mean⯑ing of which is, ‘"we of your own country are ſufficient for that deſign."’ If theſe obſervations of Euſtathius be true, Euryma⯑chus was not a leſs enemy than Antinous, but a better diſſembler.

XLIV.

Euryclea was a very aged perſon; ſhe was bought by Laertes, to nurſe Ulyſſes; and in her old age attends Telemachus: She coſt Laertes twenty oxen; that is, a certain quantity of money ( [...]) which would buy twenty oxen: or perhaps the form of an ox was ſtamp'd upon the metal, and from thence had its appellation.

The ſimplicity of theſe Heroic times is remarkable; an old woman is the only attendant upon the ſon of a King: She lights him to his apartment, takes care of his cloaths, and hangs them up at the ſide of his bed. Greatneſs then conſiſted not in ſhew, but in the mind: this conduct proceeded not from the meanneſs of poverty, but from the ſimplicity of manners. Euſtathius.

Having now gone thro' the firſt book, I ſhall only obſerve to the Reader, that the whole of it does not take up the com⯑paſs of an entire day: When Minerva appears to Telemachus the Suitors were preparing to ſit down to the banquet at noon; and the [65] buſineſs of the firſt book concludes with the day. It is true, that the Gods hold a debate before the deſcent of Minerva, and ſome ſmall time muſt be allow'd for that tranſaction. It is re⯑markable, that there is not one Simile in this book, except we allow thoſe three words to be one, [...]; The ſame obſervation is true of the firſt book of the Iliad. See the Notes on that place.

I.

THIS book opens with the firſt appearance of Telemachus upon the ſtage of action. And Boſſu obſerves the great judgment of the Poet, in beginning with the tranſactions of Ithaca in the abſence of Ulyſſes: By this method he ſets the conduct of Telemachus, Penelope, and the Suitors, in a ſtrong point of light; they all have a large ſhare in the ſtory of the Poem, and conſequently ought to have diſtinguiſh⯑ing characters. It is as neceſſary in Epic Poetry, as it is on the Theatre, to let us immediately into the character of every perſon whom the Poet introduces: This adds perſpicuity to the ſtory, and we immediately grow acquainted with each perſonage, and intereſt our ſelves in the good or ill fortune that attends them thro' the whole relation.

Telemachus is now about twenty years of age: In the eleventh book, the Poet tells us, he was an infant in the arms of his mo⯑ther when Ulyſſes ſail'd to Troy; that Heroe was abſent near twenty [98] years, and from hence we may gather the exact age of Telema⯑chus. He is every where deſcrib'd as a perſon of piety to the Gods, of duty to his parents, and as a lover of his country: he is pru⯑dent, temperate, and valiant: and the Poet well ſets off the im⯑portance of this young Heroe, by giving him the Goddeſs of War and Wiſdom for his conſtant attendant.

II.

The Poet deſcribes Telemachus as if he were marching againſt an ene⯑my, or going to a council of war, rather than to an aſſembly of Peers in his own country: Two reaſons are aſſign'd for this conduct; either this was the common uſage of Princes in thoſe times, or Telemachus might look upon the Suitors as enemies, and conſequently go to council in arms as againſt enemies. Euſtathius.

III.

This paſſage has not eſcap'd the raillery of the Critics; they look upon it as a mean deſcription of a Heroe and a Prince, to give him a brace of dogs only for his guards or attendants: But ſuch was the ſimplicity of ancient Princes, that except in war they had rarely any attendants or equipage. And we may be confident, Homer copies after the cuſtom of the time, unleſs we can be ſo abſurd as to ſuppoſe, he would feign low circumſtances unneceſſa⯑rily, thro' a want of judgment.

Virgil judg'd otherwiſe, and thought this circumſtance worthy of his imitation.

[99] Achiles is deſcrib'd in the Iliad with the ſame atten⯑dants.‘—Nine large dogs domeſtic at his board. B. 23.’

Poetry, obſerves Dacier, is like Painting, which draws the greateſt beauties from the ſimpleſt cuſtoms: and even in hiſtory, we receive a ſenſible pleaſure from the leaſt circumſtance that de⯑notes the cuſtoms of ancient times. It may be added, that the Poet, as well as the Painter, is obliged to follow the cuſtoms of the age of which he writes, or paints: a modern dreſs would ill become Achilles or Ulyſſes, ſuch a conduct would be condemned as an abſurdity in painting, and ought to be ſo in poetry.

IV.

Ho⯑mer, ſays Euſtathius, inſerts theſe particularities concerning the fa⯑mily of Aegyptius, to give an air of truth to his ſtory. It does not appear that Aegyptius knew the certainty of the death of Antiphus; (for it is the Poet who relates it, and not the father;) whence, as Dacier obſerves, ſhould he learn it? he only laments him, according to the prevailing opinion that all the companions of Ulyſſes were loſt with Ulyſſes.

V.

We are here told, that there never had been any council conven'd in Ithaca, ſince the departure of Ulyſſes. The general deſign and moral of the Odyſſey, is to inform us of the miſchievous effects which the Ab⯑ſence of a King and Father of a family produces: We deprive, as Boſſu obſerves, the Poem of its very ſoul, and ſpoil the Fable, if we retrench from it the diſorders which the Suitors create in the abſence of Ulyſſes, both in his family and dominions. No⯑thing can give us a greater image of thoſe diſorders, than what [100] is here related: What muſt a kingdom ſuffer in twenty years, without a Ruler, without a Council to make Laws or puniſh enormities? Such is the condition of Ithaca: Laertes is ſuperan⯑nuated; Penelope oppreſs'd by the violence of the Suitors; and Telemachus to this time, in his minority.

It is very artful in the Poet to open the aſſembly by Aegyptius: Telemachus was the perſon who conven'd it; and being the great⯑eſt perſonage preſent, it might be expected that he ſhould open the deſign of it: But to give Telemachus courage, who was young and inexperienc'd, Aegyptius firſt riſes, and by praiſing the perſon who had ſummon'd them (of whom he ſeems ignorant) gives Te⯑lemachus to underſtand he has friends among the aſſembly: This he could no other way ſo ſafely have done, conſidering the power of the Suitors. By this means, Telemachus is encouraged to ſpeak boldly, and arraign the diſorders of the Suitors with the utmoſt freedom.

VI.

Telemachus here ſets the character of Ulyſſes, as a King, in the moſt agreeable point of light: He rul'd his people with the ſame mildneſs as a father rules his children. This muſt needs have a very happy effect upon the audience; not only as it ſhews Ulyſſes to have been a good Governour; but as it recalls the memory of the happineſs they receiv'd from that mild government, and obliquely condemns them of ingratitude who had forgot it. By this method alſo the Poet intereſts us deeply in the ſufferings of Ulyſſes; we cannot ſee a good man and good King in diſtreſs, without the moſt tender emotions.

VII.

What Telemachus here ſays has given offence to the Critics; they think it in⯑decent for a ſon to ſay, that he bears with more regret [101] the diſorder of his family than the loſs of his father; yet this objection will vaniſh if we weigh Penelope, Telemachus, and his whole poſterity, againſt the ſingle perſon of Ulyſſes.

But what chiefly takes away this objection is, that Telemachus was ſtill in hopes of his father's return: for [...] does not im⯑ply neceſſarily his death, but abſence: and then both with juſtice and decency, Telemachus may ſay that he grieves more for the deſtruction of his family, than for the abſence of Ulyſſes.

VIII.

This paſſage is ridicul'd by the Critics; they ſet it in a wrong light, and then grow very pleaſant upon it: Telemachus makes a ſad outcry becauſe the Suitors eat his ſheep, his beeves, and fatted goats; and at laſt falls into tears. The truth is, the riches of Kings and Princes, in thoſe early ages, conſiſted chiefly in flocks and cattle; thus Aeneas and Paris are deſcrib'd as tending their flocks, &c. and Abraham in the ſcriptures, as abounding in this kind of wealth.

Theſe Critics would form a different idea of the ſtate and condition of Telemachus, if they conſider'd that he had been capa⯑ble to maintain no fewer than an hundred and eight perſons in a manner very expenſive for many years; for ſo many (with their attendants) were the Suitors, as appears from the 16th book; and at the ſame time he kept up the dignity of his own court, and liv'd with great hoſpitality.

But it is a ſufficient anſwer to the objections againſt this paſſage, to obſerve, that it is not the expence, but manner of it, that Telemachus laments: This he expreſly declares by the word [...]; and ſurely a ſober man may complain againſt luxury, without being arraigned of meanneſs; and againſt pro⯑fuſion, without being condemned for parſimony.

IX.

Euſtathius obſerves, that there was a cuſtom to carry the ſtatue of Themis to the aſſemblies in former ages, and carry it back again when thoſe aſſemblies were diſſolv'd; and thus Themis may be ſaid to form, and diſſolve an aſſembly. Dacier diſlikes this aſſertion, as having no foundation in antiquity; ſhe thinks that the aſſertion of Tele⯑machus is general, that he intimates it is Juſtice alone that eſtabliſhes the councils of mankind, and that Injuſtice confounds and brings the wicked deſigns of men to confuſion.

I have follow'd this interpretation, not only as it ſuits beſt with the uſual morality of Homer, but alſo as Jupiter is mention'd with Themis; and no ſuch cuſtom is pretended concerning his ſtatue. He is expreſly ſtil'd by the ancients [...]. In Sicily there was an Altar of [...], or of Jupiter who preſides over Councils. Euſtathius from Herodotus.

X.

To underſtand this paſſage, we muſt remember, as Euſtathius remarks, that Telemachus is pleading his cauſe before the Ithacenſians; them he conſtitutes the Judges of his cauſe: He therefore prevents an anſwer which they might make, viz. We are not the men that are guilty of theſe outrages; Telemachus rejoins, ‘"It were better for me to ſuffer from your hands; for by your quieſcence you make my affairs deſperate:"’ an intimation that they ſhould riſe in his defence.

XI.

This paſſage is not one of thoſe, where the Poet can be blam'd for cauſing [103] a Heroe to weep. If we conſider the youth of Telemachus, to⯑gether with the tenderneſs agreeable to that time of life; the ſub⯑jects that demand his concern; the apprehenſion of the loſs of a father; and the deſolate ſtate of his mother and kingdom: All theſe make his readineſs to burſt into tears an argument, not of any want of ſpirit in him, but of true ſenſe, and goodneſs of na⯑ture: and is a great propriety, which ſhews the right judgment of the Poet.

XII.

We find Antinous al⯑ways ſetting himſelf in the ſtrongeſt oppoſition to Telemachus; and therefore, he is the firſt that falls by the ſpear of Ulyſſes; the Poet obſerves juſtice, and as Antinous is the firſt in guilt, he is the firſt in puniſhment. What Antinous ſays in this ſpeech concern⯑ing the treachery of the female ſervant of Penelope, prepares the way for the puniſhment Ulyſſes inflicts on ſome of the maids in the concluſion of the Poem: This is an act of Poetical juſtice; and it is as neceſſary in Epic as in Tragic Poetry to reward the juſt, and puniſh the guilty. Euſtathius.

XIII.

It will be neceſſary to vindicate the character of Penelope the He⯑roine of the Poem, from the aſperſions of Antinous. It muſt be confeſt that ſhe has a very hard game to play, ſhe neither dares conſent, nor deny, if ſhe conſents, ſhe injures Ulyſſes whom ſhe ſtill expects to return: if ſhe denies, ſhe endangers the Throne, and the life of Telemachus, from the violence of the Suitors; ſo that no other method is left but to elude their addreſſes.

I muſt not conceal, what Euſtathius has mention'd from ſome Au⯑thors, as Lycophron, &c. who ſay that Penelope was [...], in plain Engliſh, an Harlot; and he quotes Herodotus, as affirming that ſhe [104] had a ſon, named Pan, by Hermes; but the Biſhop declares it is all a ſcandal; and every body muſt conclude the ſame, from her conduct, as deſcrib'd in Homer.

To vindicate her in this place, we muſt conſider who it is that ſpeaks: Antinous, an unſucceſsful Lover: and what he blames as a crime, is really her glory; he blames her becauſe ſhe does not comply with their deſires; and it had been an act of guilt to have comply'd. He himſelf ſufficiently vindicates her in the con⯑cluſion of his ſpeech, where he extols her above all the race of womankind: ſo that the ſeeming inconſiſtence of Penelope muſt be imputed to the neceſſity of her affairs: ſhe is artful, but not criminal.

The original ſays, ſhe deceiv'd the Suitors by her meſſages; a plain intimation, that ſhe us'd no extraordinary familiarities with her Admirers; and thro' the whole courſe of the Poem ſhe ſel⯑dom appears in their Aſſemblies.

XIV.

It was an ancient cuſtom to dedicate the fineſt pieces of Weaving and Embroidery, to honour the funerals of the dead: and theſe were uſually wrought by the neareſt relations in their life-time. Thus in the 22d Iliad, Andromache laments, that the body of Hector muſt be expoſed to the air, without thoſe ornaments.

And the mother of Euryalus in Virgil, to her ſon.

XV.

Euſta⯑thius obſerves, that Antinous in the opening of his Speech throws the fault upon Penelope, to engage the favour of the multitude: But being conſcious that he had ſaid things which Penelope would reſent, he extols her in the concluſion of it. He aſcribes an ob⯑ſtinacy of virtue to her, and by this double conduct endeavours to make both Penelope and the multitude his friends.

XVI.

Telemachus every where ſpeaks with an openneſs and bravery of ſpirit; this ſpeech is a teſtimony of it, as well as his former; he anſwers chiefly to the diſmiſſion of Penelope, ſays it would be an offence againſt Heaven and Earth; and concludes with a vehemence of expreſſion, and tells Antinous that ſuch a word, [...] ſhall never fall from his tongue.

The Critics have found fault with one part of the ſpeech, as betraying a ſpirit of avarice and meanneſs in Telemachus:

They think it unworthy of Telemachus to make the Dower of Penelope an argument againſt her diſmiſſion, and conſequently aſcribe his detention of her, not to duty, but to covetouſneſs. To take away this objection they point the verſes in a different man⯑ner, and place a ſtop after [...], and then the ſenſe runs thus; ‘"I cannot conſent to diſmiſs her who bore me, and nurs'd me in my infancy, while her husband is abſent, or perhaps dead; beſides, hard would be the Puniſhment I ſhould ſuffer, if I ſhould voluntarily ſend away Penelope to Icarius."’

[106] Dacier diſlikes this ſolution, and appeals to the cuſtoms of thoſe Ages, to juſtify her opinion: If a ſon forc'd away his mo⯑ther from his houſe, he was obliged to reſtore her dower, and all ſhe brought in marriage to her husband: But if ſhe retir'd volun⯑tarily to engage in a ſecond marriage, the dower remain'd with the ſon as lawful heir. This opinion of Dacier may be con⯑firm'd from Demoſthenes in his orations, [...]. Afterwards upon the deceaſe of her husband, leaving his family, and receiving back her portion, &c. The ſame Author adds, that the reaſon why the Suitors are ſo urgent to ſend away Penelope, is that ſhe may chuſe to marry ſome one of them, rather than re⯑turn to Icarius; ſo that Telemachus only takes hold of their argu⯑ment for her diſmiſſion, in order to detain her. They addreſs'd Penelope more for the ſake of her riches than her beauty, (for ſhe muſt be about forty years old) and he tells them, that if he ſends her away againſt her conſent, he muſt reſtore thoſe riches, which they covet more than the perſon of Penelope. This I confeſs is very refin'd; and perhaps it may be ſufficient to take off the objection of covetouſneſs in Telemachus, to underſtand no more than what the words at the firſt view ſeem to imply, viz. an abhorrence of their riots, deſcrib'd by Telemachus to have riſen to ſuch a degree as to have almoſt ruin'd his kingdom, and made their demands impoſſible. I ſee nothing unnatural or mean in this interpreta⯑tion, eſpecially if we remember that the prodigious diſorders of his family enter into the eſſence of the Poem. The greater the diſorders are, the greater are the ſufferings of Ulyſſes.

XVII.

There is an ambiguity in the word Father; it may either ſignify Icarius or Ulyſſes, as Euſtathius obſerves: but I think the con⯑text determines the perſon to be Ulyſſes; for Telemachus believes him to be yet living, and conſequently might fear his vengeance, if he offer'd any indignity to Penelope.

XVIII.

In the ninth Iliad we are told that the father of Phaenix impre⯑cated the Furies againſt his ſon,

In the ſame book the Furies hear the curſes of Althea upon her ſon,

Theſe paſſages ſhew the opinion the Ancients had of the honour due from children to parents, to be ſuch, that they believ'd there were Furies particularly commiſſion'd to puniſh thoſe who fail'd in that reſpect, and to fullfil the imprecations made againſt 'em by their offended parents. There is a greatneſs in this Idea, and it muſt have had an effect upon the obedience of the youth. We ſee Telemachus is full of the ſenſe of it. Dacier.

XIX.

This prodigy is uſher'd in very magnificently, and the verſes are lofty and ſonorous. The Eagles are Ulyſſes and Telemachus; By [108] Jove's command they fly from a mountain's height: this de⯑notes that the two Heroes are inſpir'd by Jupiter, and come from the country to the deſtruction of the Suitors: The eagles fly with wing to wing conjoyn'd; this ſhews, that they act in concert, and unity of councils: At firſt they float upon the wind; this implies the calmneſs and ſecreſy of the approach of thoſe He⯑roes: At laſt they clang their wings and hovering beat the skies; this ſhews the violence of the aſſault: With ardent eyes the rival train they threat. This, as the Poet himſelf interprets it, de⯑notes the approaching fate of the Suitors. Then failing o'er the domes and tow'rs they fly Full toward the eaſt; this ſignifies that the Suitors alone are not doom'd to deſtruction, but that the men of Ithaca are involv'd in danger, as Halitherſes inter⯑prets it.

See here the natural explication of this prodigy, which is very ingenious! Euſtathius, verbatim.

XX.

In three lines (obſerves Euſtathius) the Poet gives us the whole Odyſſey in Miniature: And it is wonderful to think, that ſo plain a ſubject ſhould produce ſuch variety in the proceſs of it. Ari⯑ſtotle obſerves the ſimplicity of Homer's platform; which is no more than this: A Prince is abſent from his country; Neptune de⯑ſtroys his companions; in his abſence his family is diſorder'd by many Princes that addreſs his wife, and plot againſt the life of his only ſon: but at laſt after many ſtorms he returns, puniſhes the Suitors, and re-eſtabliſhes his affairs: This is all that is eſſen⯑tial to the Poem, the reſt of it is made up of Epiſodes. And yet with [109] what miracles of Poetry, (ſpecioſa miracula, as Horace ſtiles them,) has he furniſh'd out his Poem?

XXI.

It has been ob⯑ſerv'd, that Homer is the father of Oratory as well as Poetry; and it muſt be confeſs'd, that there is not any one branch of it that is not to be found in his Poetry. The Invective, Perſuaſive, Iro⯑nical, &c. may all be gather'd from it. Nothing can be better adapted to the purpoſe than this ſpeech of Eurymachus: He is to decry the credit of the predictions of Halitherſes: he derides, he threats, and deſcribes him as a venal Prophet. He is ſpeaking to the multitude, and endeavours to bring Halitherſes into contempt, and in order to it he uſes him contemptuouſly.

XXII.

It is neceſſary for the Reader to carry in his mind, that this Aſſem⯑bly conſiſts not only of the Peers, but of the People of Ithaca: For to the People Telemachus here appeals.

It is evident, that the place of the Aſſembly was at leaſt open to the Air in the upper parts: for otherways how ſhould the Eagles be viſible to the Suitors? and ſo very plainly as to be diſ⯑cover'd to threat them with their eyes? There was no doubt a place ſet apart for Council, uſually in the market: For Telema⯑chus is ſaid to ſeat himſelf in his Father's throne, in the beginning of this book: But Ulyſſes had been abſent twenty years; and therefore it is evident, that his throne had ſtood in the ſame place for the ſpace of twenty years. It is paſt contradiction, that in Athens and other cities of Greece there were [...], pub⯑lic Halls for the conſultation of affairs.

XXIII.

The name of Mentor is another inſtance of the gratitude of our Poet's temper, it being the ſame which belong'd to a friend of his by whom he was entertain'd in Ithaca, during a defluxion on his eyes which ſeiz'd him in his voyages: and at whoſe houſe he is ſaid to have laid the plan of this Poem. This character of Men⯑tor is well ſuſtain'd by his ſpeech, and by the aſſiſtance he grate⯑fully gives to young Telemachus on all occaſions.

XXIV.

The original ſays only, ‘"Obey the old man.’ Euſtathius rightly deter⯑mines, that the expreſſion means Laertes. The Poet loſes no opportunity of giving Ulyſſes an excellent character; this is as neceſſary as continually to repeat the diſorders of the Suitors.

This conduct contributes admirably to the deſign of the Poem; and when the Poet in the unravelling of his Fable comes to re⯑ward and puniſh the chief actors, we acknowledge his juſtice in the death of the Suitors, and re-eſtabliſhment of Ulyſſes.

XXV.

The original is not without obſcurity: it ſays, [...]: or, in the time of the banquet. Euſtathius interprets it, [...], The Wine as it were fighting on their ſide; and this agrees with what follows.

[111] The deſign of this ſpeech is to deter the people of Ithaca from riſing in the cauſe of Ulyſſes: Mentor ſpeaks juſtly; Leo⯑critus inſolently: Mentor ſets before them the worth of Ulyſſes; Leocritus the power of the Suitors: Mentor ſpeaks like a brave man; Leocritus (obſerves Euſtathius) like a coward, who wanting true courage flies to the aſſiſtance of wine to raiſe a falſe one.

Perhaps it may be objected, that there is not a ſufficient diſtin⯑ction in the characters of the ſeveral Suitors; they are all deſcrib'd as inſolent voluptuaries. But tho' they agree in this general cha⯑racter, yet there is ſomething diſtinguiſhing in the particular per⯑ſons: Thus Antinous derides, Eurymachus covers villany with mildneſs; Antinous is ever the foremoſt in outrage, Eurymachus generally his ſecond: A greater diſtinction is neither neceſſary, nor poſſible to be repreſented. What the Poet is to deſcribe, is the inſolence of the Suitors, and the diſorders they create in his family and kingdom; he is oblig'd to dwell upon theſe cir⯑cumſtances, becauſe they are eſſential to his deſign: and conſe⯑quently that general reſemblance of their characters, is not a fault in the Poet.

XXVI.

The Aſſembly which was conven'd by Telemachus, is broke up in a riotous man⯑ner by Leocritus, who had no right to diſſolve it. This agrees with the lawleſs ſtate of the country in the abſence of its King, and ſhews (ſays Euſtathius) that the Suitors had uſurp'd the chief Authority.

There is a fine contraſte between the behaviour of Telemachus and that of the Suitors. They return to repeat their diſorders and debauches; Telemachus retires to ſupplicate the Goddeſs of Wiſdom, to aſſiſt him in his enterprizes. Thus the Poet raiſes the chara⯑cter of Telemachus; he has ſhew'd him to be a youth of a brave ſpirit, a good Speaker, and here repreſents him as a perſon of piety.

XXVII.

This ſpeech of Mi⯑nerva is ſuited to encourage a young man to imitate the virtue of his father, and not to ſuffer himſelf to be overcome by any appearance of difficulties. She ſets his father before his eyes, and tells him, there was never any danger which he durſt not encounter; if he ſhould ſuffer himſelf to be diſcouraged, he would prove himſelf an unworthy ſon of a brave Father. Dacier. Euſtathius.

XXVIII.

This ſpeech muſt be un⯑derſtood ironically: [...] is us'd as before, and has relation to the preceding harangues of Telemachus to the people, and his intended voyage; by way of deriſion Antinous bids him not trouble his brave Spirit in contriving any more Orations, or in any bold attempt to find out Ulyſſes; or to act the Orator, or Heroe's part.

The Critics have almoſt generally condemn'd theſe pieces of gay⯑ety and raillery, as unworthy of heroic Poetry: if ever they are pro⯑per, they muſt be ſo in the mouths of theſe Suitors; perſons of no ſerious, or noble characters: Mirth, wine, and feaſting is their conſtant employment; and conſequently if they fall into abſurdities, they act ſuitably to their characters. Milton, the beſt and greateſt imitator of Homer, has followed him unworthily in this reſpect; I mean, has debaſed even this low raillery into great⯑er lowneſs, by playing upon words and ſyllables. But in this place the raillery is not without its effect, by ſhewing the utmoſt contempt of Telemachus; and ſurely it is the loweſt degree of calamity to be at once oppreſs'd and deſpis'd.

XXIX.

It is ob⯑ſervable, ſays Euſtathius, that the Poet had in his choice ſeveral [113] expedients to bring about the deſtruction of the Suitors, but he rejects them, and chuſes the moſt difficult method, out of reve⯑rence to truth, being unwilling to falſify the Hiſtories of Sparta and Pylos. This has a double effect; it furniſhes the Poet with a ſeries of noble incidents; and alſo gives an air of probability to the ſtory of Ulyſſes and Telemachus.

XXX.

The Suitors allot the Palace to Penelope: it being, ſays Euſtathius, the only thing that they cannot conſume; and adds, that the expreſſion of the Suitors concerning the labour they ſhould undergo in di⯑viding the ſubſtance of Ulyſſes, ſhews the wealth and abundance of that Heroe. Dacier has found out an alluſion between [...] in the firſt ſpeech, and [...] in the ſecond; they differing only in one letter: She calls this a beauty, which ſhe laments ſhe can⯑not preſerve in her tranſlation. She is the only Commentator that ever was quick-ſighted enough to make the diſcovery. The words have no relation; they ſtand at a ſufficient diſtance; and I believe Homer would have thought ſuch trifling unworthy of his Poetry. So that all the honour which accrues from that obſervation muſt be aſcrib'd (in this caſe, as in many others) to the Com⯑mentator, and not the Author.

XXXI.

Such paſſages as theſe have ever furniſh'd Critics with matter of raillery: They think ſuch houſhold cares unworthy of a King, and that this conduct ſuits better with vulgar perſons of leſs for⯑tune. I confeſs, ſuch deſcriptions now would be ridiculous in a Poet, becauſe unſuitable to our manners. But if we look upon ſuch paſſages as pictures and exact repreſentations of the old world, the Reader will find a ſenſible pleaſure in them.

[114] It is a true obſervation, that the Iliad is chiefly ſuitable to the condition of Kings and Heroes; and conſequently fill'd with circumſtances in which the greateſt part of mankind can have no concern or intereſt: The Odyſſey is of more general uſe; the ſtory of it is a ſeries of calamities, which concern every man, as every man may feel them. We can bring the ſufferings of U⯑lyſſes in ſome degree home to our ſelves, and make his condi⯑tion our own; but what private perſon can ever be in the cir⯑cumſtances of Agamemnon or Achilles? What I would infer from this is, that the Reader ought not to take offence at any ſuch deſcriptions, which are only mean as they differ from the faſhi⯑ons of the latter ages. In the Iliad, Achilles when he acts in the common offices of life, and not as an Heroe, is liable to the ſame objection. But if the manners of the antient ages be conſider'd, we ſhall be reconcil'd to the actions of the antient Heroes; and conſequently to Homer.

XXXII.

Euryclea was not properly the Nurſe of Telemachus, but of Ulyſſes; ſo that ſhe is call'd ſo not in a ſtrict ſenſe, but as one concern'd in his education from his infancy, and as a general appellati⯑on of honour. Telemachus here reſerves the beſt wines for Ulyſſes; a leſſon, (obſerves Euſtathius) that even in the ſmalleſt matters we ought to pay a deference to our parents. Theſe occaſio⯑nal and ſeemingly-trivial circumſtances are not without their uſe, if not as poetical ornaments, yet as moral inſtructions.

XXXIII.

It may be demanded how it was probable, (if poſſible) that the departure of Telemachus could be conceal'd twelve days from the knowledge of ſo fond a mother as Penelope? It muſt be allow'd, [115] that this would not be poſſible except in a time of ſuch great diſorder as the Suitors created: Penelope confin'd herſelf almoſt continually within her own apartment, and very ſeldom appear'd publickly; ſo that there is no improbability in this re⯑lation. Dacier.

It may be added, that tho' Telemachus enjoyn'd ſecrecy for twelve days, yet he intended a very ſpeedy return: and we find that he actually return'd in a much ſhorter ſpace than twelve days; ſo that the ſtrictneſs of the injunction proceeds ſolely from filial love, and was only cautionary againſt accidents that might detain him longer.

Euſtathius makes a criticiſm upon the words [...] and [...], the former is uſed negatively, the latter affirmatively; namely, the former in ſwearing not to perform a thing, the latter to perform it.

XXXIV.

It is probable that this paſſage of Minerva preparing the Mariners, &c. is thus to be underſtood: The men of Ithaca, retaining in memory the ſpeech of Telemachus, and believing that what he then ſaid, and now requeſts, was agreeable to juſtice; and having as it were his image graven upon their hearts; voluntarily reſolve to lend him aſſiſtance: So that Minerva is to be taken allegorically, to imply that it was every perſon's own Reaſon that induced him to aſſiſt Telemachus. Euſtathius.

XXXV.

It may be ask'd why this particularity is neceſſary, and may it not be thought that ſuch a little circumſtance is inſignificant? The anſwer is, that a great deal depends upon this particularity; no leſs than the diſco⯑very of the voyage of Telemachus to the Suitors; and conſequently, whatever the Suitors act in order to intercept him takes its riſe from [116] this little incident; the fountain is indeed ſmall, but a large ſtream of Poetry flows from it.

XXXVI.

The words in the original are [...] and [...], which are not to be taken for being aſleep, but drowzy; this is evident from the uſage of [...], in the concluſion of the firſt book of the Iliad, where the ſignification has been miſtaken by moſt tranſlators: They make Jupiter there to be aſleep; tho' two lines afterwards, in the ſecond book, Homer expreſly ſays,

It may be ask'd how Minerva can be ſaid to occaſion this drow⯑zineſs in the Suitors, and make them retire ſooner than uſual? Euſtathius replies, that the perſon who furniſh'd the wine ſupply'd it in greater quantities than ordinary, thro' which wine they con⯑tracted a drowzineſs: In this ſenſe Minerva, or Wiſdom, may be ſaid to aſſiſt the deſigns of Telemachus.

XXXVII.

This alſo is an allegory, and implies that the ſailors had the experience and art to guide the ſhip before the winds; but Poetry, that delights to raiſe every circumſtance, exalts it into the marvellous, and aſcribes it to the Goddeſs of Wiſdom.

XXXVIII.

It is ob⯑ſervable, that Homer never paſſes by an opportunity of deſcribing [117] the ſea, or a ſhip under ſail; (and in many other places, as well as in this, he dwells largely upon it:) I take the reaſon to be, not only becauſe it furniſh'd him with variety of poetical images, but becauſe he himſelf having made frequent voyages, had a full Idea of it, and conſequently was delighted with it: This is evi⯑dent from his conduct in the Iliad, were variety of alluſions and ſimilitudes are drawn from the Sea, and are not the ſmalleſt or⯑naments of his Poetry.

XXXIX.

This cuſtom of libations was frequent upon all ſolemn occaſions, before meat, before ſleep, voyages, journies; and in all religious rites, ſacrifices, &c. They were always made with wine, pure and unmix'd, whence [...] is a word frequent in antient Authors. Sometimes they uſed mixed wine in Sacrifices; but Euſtathius ſays, that this mixture was of wine with wine, and not of wine with water; hence came the diſtinction of [...], and [...], the unlawful and lawful libation; wine unmix'd was lawful, the mix'd unlawful. Homer in this place uſes [...], or Goblets crown'd with wine; that is, fill'd 'till the wine ſtood above the brim of the Goblet: they eſteem'd it an irreverence to the Gods not to fill the cups full, for then only they eſteem'd the libation whole and perfect, [...], and then only worthy of the Gods.

This Book takes up the ſpace of one day and one night: it opens with the morning; the ſpeeches in the Council, with the preparations for the voyage of Telemachus, are the ſubject of the day; and the voyage is finiſh'd by the next morning. By this laſt circumſtance we may learn that Ithaca was diſtant from Pylos but one night's voyage, nay ſomething leſs, there being ſome time ſpent after the ſetting of the Sun, in carrying the pro⯑viſions from the Palace to the veſſel.

[118] The book conſiſts chiefly in the ſpeeches of Telemachus and his friends, againſt thoſe of the Suitors. It ſhews the great judgment of the Poet in chuſing this method: hence we ſee the cauſes preceding the effects; and know from what ſpring every action flow'd: we are never at a loſs for a reaſon for every inci⯑dent; the ſpeeches are as it were the ground-work upon which he builds all that relates to the adventures of Telemachus.

In the Iliad, after the diſſolution of the Council in the firſt book, and the diſſenſion between Agamemnon and Achilles, we immediately ſee upon what hinge the fable turns. So in the Odyſſey, after the Poet has laid before us the warm debates between the Suitors and Telemachus, we immediately expect them to act as enemies: The war is declar'd, and we become judges as well as ſpectators of the ſcenes of action. Thus Homer adds the perſpicuity of Hiſtory to the ornaments of Poetry.

I.

THE Scene is now remov'd from Ithaca to Pylos, and with it a new vein of Poetry is opened: Inſtead of the riots of the Suitors, we are entertain'd with the wiſdom and piety of Neſtor. This and the following book are a kind of Supplement to the Iliad; the nature of Epic poetry requires that ſome⯑thing ſhould be left to the imagination of the Reader, nor is the picture to be entirely drawn at full length. Homer therefore, to ſatisfie our curioſity, gives an account of the fortunes of thoſe great men, who made ſo noble a figure at the ſiege of Troy. This conduct alſo ſhews his art: Variety gives life and delight; and it is much more neceſſary in Epic than in Comic or Tragic Poetry ſometimes to ſhift the Scenes, to diverſify and embelliſh the ſtory. But as on the ſtage the Poet ought not to ſtep at once from one part of the world to a too remote country, (for this deſtroys credi⯑bility, and the auditor cannot fancy himſelf this minute here, and the next a thouſand miles diſtant) ſo in Epic Poetry, every re⯑moval [158] muſt be within the degrees of probability. We have here a very eaſy tranſition; the Poet carries his Heroe no further than he really might ſail in the compaſs of time he allots for his voyage. If he had ſtill dwelt upon the diſorders of the Suitors without inter⯑ruption, he muſt grow tireſome; but he artfully breaks the thread of their Hiſtory with beautiful incidents and Epiſodes, and re⯑ſerves the further recital of their diſorders for the end of his Po⯑em: By this method we ſit down with freſh appetite to the en⯑tertainment, and riſe at laſt not cloy'd, but ſatisfied.

II.

The ori⯑ginal calls Heaven [...], or brazen; the reaſon of it ariſes either from the Palaces of the Gods being built of braſs by Vulcan; or rather the word implies no more than the Stability of Heaven, which for the ſame reaſon is in other places call'd [...], or fram'd of iron. Euſtathius.

III.

It may be ask'd why the Poet is ſo very particular as to mention that the Pylians were di⯑vided into nine aſſemblies? and may it not ſeem a circumſtance of no importance? Euſtathius anſwers from the Antients, that there were nine cities ſubject to the power of Neſtor: five in Pylos, the reſt in Boeotia; the Poet therefore allots one Bank or Theatre to every city, which conſiſted of 500 men, the whole number amounting to 4500: Theſe cities furniſh'd the like com⯑plement of men to Neſtor for the war at Troy: He ſail'd in ninety veſſels, and allowing fifty men to each veſſel, they amount to that number. Hence it appears that this was a national ſacrifice, every city furniſh'd nine bulls, and by conſequence the whole na⯑tion were partakers of it.

IV.

This was a very ſolemn ſacrifice of the Pylians; How comes it then to paſs, that Homer paſſes it over in one line? Euſtathius anſwers, that the oc⯑caſion diſallows a longer deſcription, and Homer knows when to ſpeak, and when to be ſilent. He chuſes to carry on the adven⯑tures of Telemachus, rather than amuſe himſelf in deſcriptions that contribute nothing to the ſtory; he finds a time of more leiſure in the latter part of this book, and there he deſcribes it at length.

They taſte the entrails; that is, every perſon eat a ſmall por⯑tion of the ſacrifice, and by this method every perſon became partaker of it.

There is nothing in Homer that ſhews where this ſacrifice was offer'd, whether in a Temple, or in the open air. But Euſta⯑thius tells us from Strabo, that it was in the Temple of Samian Neptune, [...].

V.

This ſentiment is truly noble, and as nobly expreſſed: the ſim⯑plicity of the diction correſponds with that of the thought. Homer in many places teſtifies the utmoſt abhorrence of a Lye. This verſe is twice repeated in the preſent book, as well as in ſome others; and nothing can be ſtronger in the ſame view than that of A⯑chilles in the 9th Iliad,

VI.

There is ſome obſcurity in the Greek expreſſion, and the antient [160] Critics have made it more obſcure by their falſe interpretations; they imagine that the Poet only meant to ſay that Telemachus was the legitimate ſon of Penelope and Ulyſſes. Euſtathius.

Dacier very juſtly condemns this explication, as unworthy of Homer; and gives us a more plain and natural interpretation: viz. ‘"You were not born in deſpight of the Gods, that is, you are well made, and of a good preſence, you have good inclinations, and in a word, your birth is happy."’ She explains [...] after the ſame manner: ‘"You were not educated in deſpight of the Gods;"’ that is, ‘"the Gods have bleſſed your education:"’ This explication ſeems to be juſt, and anſwers perfectly the deſign of Minerva; which was to give a decent aſſurance to Telemachus. You are a perſon, ſays the Goddeſs, of a good preſence, and hap⯑py education, why then ſhould you be aſhamed to appear before Neſtor?

VII.

It is with pleaſure that I read ſuch paſſages in an Author of ſo great antiquity, as are pictures of the ſimplicity of thoſe heroic ages: It is the remark of Euſtathius, that Piſiſtratus the ſon of a King does not ſeat theſe ſtrangers upon purple Tapeſtry, or any other coſtly furniture, but upon the Skins of beaſts, that had nothing to recommend them but their ſoftneſs; being ſpread upon the ſand of the ſea-ſhores.

This whole paſſage pleaſes me extremely; there is a ſpi⯑rit of true Devotion, Morality and good Senſe in it; and the de⯑cency of behaviour between Neſtor and Telemachus is deſcrib'd ve⯑ry happily: Neſtor ſhews great benevolence to Telemachus; Tele⯑machus great reverence to Neſtor: the modeſty of the one, and the humanity of the other, are worthy of our obſervation. We ſee the ſame picture of Neſtor in the Odyſſey that was drawn of him in the Iliads, with this only difference, that there he was a Coun⯑ſellor of War, here he is painted in ſofter colours, ruling his peo⯑ple in peace, and diffuſing a ſpirit of piety thro' his whole ter⯑ritories.

[161] He had now ſurviv'd the war of Troy almoſt ten years; and the Gods reward the old age of this wiſe and religious Prince with peace and happineſs.

VIII.

Since Minerva here mentions the name of Telemachus in her prayer; how comes it to paſs, that Neſtor is at a loſs to know Tele⯑machus? Minerva ſate cloſe by Neſtor; he muſt therefore be ſup⯑pos'd to hear the prayer; and yet in the following lines he en⯑quires who theſe ſtrangers are? We can ſcarce imagine Ne⯑ſtor ignorant that the ſon of Ulyſſes was named Telemachus, there being ſo ſtrict a friendſhip between Neſtor and Ulyſſes. Per⯑haps therefore Minerva pray'd in ſecret mentally; or perhaps Neſtor might not take notice of what was not addreſt immediate⯑ly to him, and conſequently make enquiry about it for the great⯑er certainty.

IX.

If we form our images of perſons and actions in antient times, from the images of perſons and actions in modern ages, we ſhall fall into great miſtakes: Thus in the preſent paſſage, if we annex the ſame idea of Piracy, as it was practis'd three thouſand years paſt, to Piracy as it is practis'd in our ages; what can be a greater af⯑front than this enquiry of Neſtor? But, ſays Euſtathius, Piracy was formerly not only accounted lawful, but honourable. I doubt not but Thucydides had this paſſage in view when he ſays, that the antient Poets introduce men enquiring of thoſe who frequent the ſea, if they be pirates, as a thing no way igno⯑minious. Thucydides tells us in the ſame place that all thoſe who liv'd on the ſea-coaſt, or in the Iſlands, maintain'd them⯑ſelves by frequent inrodes upon unfortify'd towns, and if ſuch piracies were nobly perform'd they were accounted glorious. He⯑rodotus [162] alſo writes, that many of the antients, eſpecially about Thrace, thought it ignominious to live by labouring the ground, but to live by piracy and plunder was eſteem'd a life of honour. Euſtathius.

XI.

Euſtathius obſerves the modeſty of Neſtor: Telemachus had aſcrib'd the fall of Troy in a great meaſure to Neſtor; but Neſtor ſpeaks not in particular of himſelf, but is content with his ſhare of glory in common with other warriors; he ſpeaks in the plural number, and joyns all the Greeks as in the war, ſo in the glory of it. Neſtor ſpeaks of the ſufferings of the Greeks by ſea, as well as by land, during the ſiege of Troy: To underſtand this, it is neceſſary to remember, that the Greeks made many expeditions againſt other places during the war both by ſea and land, as appears from many paſſages in the Iliads, particularly from what Achilles ſays in the ninth book.

XI.

I have obſerv'd that the Poet inſerts into the Odyſſey ſeveral in⯑cidents that happen'd after the fall of Troy, and by that method agreeably diverſifies his Poetry, and ſatisfies the curioſity of the Reader: Euſtathius remarks here, that he gives a title of honour to all the Heroes he mentions but only to Achilles. Achilles had been the occaſion of the ſufferings and death of many of the Greeks by his anger, and obſtinacy in refuſing to obey Agamem⯑non; therefore while Neſtor is lamenting the calamities of the Greeks, he paſſes over Achilles without any honourable mention, who had ſo greatly added to their ſufferings. But I think this remark chimerical: one may as well ſay Achilles needed no Epi⯑thet to diſtinguiſh him.

It is with pleaſure I ſee the old man dwell upon the praiſe of Antilochus: The father enlarges upon the fame of the ſon; he gives him four epithets of glory; and while Ajax is only praiſed [163] as a warrior, Antilochus is great and good, excellent in the ſtand⯑ing fight, or ſwift to purſue an enemy. Longinus has obſerv'd upon the beauty of this paſſage.

XII.

Neſtor ſpeaks of Ulyſſes as an inſeparable friend; and it ſhews an excel⯑lent diſpoſition in them both, to be rivals, and yet without envy. But the art of Neſtor is remarkable, he firſt gives the character to Ulyſſes of being ſuperior in wiſdom to all the Greeks; and yet at laſt he finds a way ſecretly to ſet himſelf on a level with him, if not above him; We ever, ſays he, thought the ſame thoughts, and were ever of the ſame ſentiments: which tho' it may imply that they were of equal wiſdom; yet there is room left for it to ſignify, that Ulyſſes always aſſented to the wiſdom of Neſtor. Euſtathius.

XIII.

There is a remark⯑able difference between [...] and [...]. The former denotes a ſelect number of men aſſembled in council; the latter a public aſſembly where all the people were preſent. Euſtathius.

XIV.

Neſtor in modeſty con⯑ceals the reaſon of the anger of the Goddeſs; out of reſpect to Ajax the Locrian who was then dead: The crime of Ajax was the violation of Caſſandra even in the Temple of Minerva before her image. But why ſhould the Goddeſs be angry at others for the crime of Ajax? this is becauſe they omitted to puniſh the offender. If Ajax was criminal in offending, others are cri⯑minal for not puniſhing the offence. Euſtathius.

The crime of Ajax is mention'd in Virgil. Aen. 1.

Virgil borrow'd the deſcription of the puniſhment of Ajax from the 4th of the Odyſſey.

XV.

It may ſeem at firſt view, that the Poet affirms the night to be an improper ſeaſon to convene a Council. This is not his meaning; In the Iliad, there are ſeveral councils by night; nay, [...] is uſed proverbially to expreſs the beſt-concerted councils. What therefore Neſtor here condemns is the calling not a ſelect, but public aſſembly of the ſoldiers in the night; when they are in no danger of an enemy, and when they are apt to fly in⯑to inſolence thro' wine, and the joy of victory. The night is then undoubtedly an ill choſen ſeaſon: becauſe the licence of the ſoldier cannot be ſo well reſtrain'd by night as by day. Euſtathius.

XVI.

It may be ask'd why Neſtor condemns ſo ſolemnly this Heroe, calling him [...], when he deſcribes him in ſo pious an action? this is not becauſe the Gods are implacable, for as Homer himſelf writes, [...]; but becauſe he vainly imagin'd that they would ſo ſoon [165] be appeas'd, without any juſtice done upon the offender: [...] are the words of Euſtathius.

XVII.

It is with great addreſs that Neſtor relates the return of Ulyſſes to Agamemnon; he aſcribes it not directly to Ulyſſes, but to his aſſo⯑ciates in the voyage; he mollifies it, in complaiſance to Telema⯑chus. But Neſtor, according to Dacier, conceals the true reaſon of his return; it was not to pleaſe Agamemnon, but out of fear of the Goddeſs Minerva, whoſe ſtatue he had taken by force from Troy: to appeaſe that Goddeſs, he returns to joyn in ſacrifice with Agamemnon. Euſtathius.

XVIII.

It may be ask'd how Neſtor attain'd this knowledge of the evils which the Gods were preparing? Euſtathius aſcribes it to his great Wiſ⯑dom, which gave him an inſight into futurity. Dacier with more reaſon tells us, that Neſtor knew that Minerva had been offended, and might conſequently apprehend a puniſhment was to be in⯑flicted for the offence.

XIX.

Euſtathius obſerves from the Antients, that the Poet with great judgment ſuſpends, and breaks off this relation of Neſtor; by this method he has an op⯑portunity to carry Telemachus to other countries, and inſert into his Poem the ſtory of Menelaus and Helen: This method likewiſe gives an air of probability to what he writes; the Poet ſeems afraid to deceive, and when he ſends Telemachus to other parts for better intelligence, he ſeems to conſult truth and exactneſs.

XX.

The ſon of Achilles was nam'd Neoptolemus, by others Pyrrhus; his ſtory is this: When he had reach'd Theſſaly with the Myrmidons of Achilles, by the advice of Thetis he ſet fire to his veſſels: And being warn'd by Helenus, from the Oracles, to fix his habitation where he found a houſe whoſe foundations were iron, whoſe walls were wood, and whoſe roof was wool; he took his journey on foot, and coming to a certain lake of Epirus, he found ſome perſons fixing their ſpears with the points downwards into the earth, and covering the tops of them with their cloaks, and after this manner making their tents: he look'd upon the Oracle as fulfill'd, and dwelt there. Afterwards having a ſon by Andromache the wife of Hector, he nam'd him Moloſſus; from whom the region took the name of Moloſſia. From this country are the Moloſſi canes, mention'd by Virgil. Euſtathius.

XXI.

Neſtor introduces the mention of Aegyſthus very artfully; it is to raiſe an emulation in Telemachus to revenge Ulyſſes, as Oreſtes had Agamemnon; it has the intended effect, and we find that Telema⯑chus dwells upon his ſtory with a virtuous envy; yet at the ſame time with great modeſty: Euſtathius gives us a different reading in

or,

both the expreſſions are uſed in Homer, the preference is there⯑fore ſubmitted to the Reader.

XXII.

The words in the original are, following the voice of ſome God, that is, ſome Oracle: Homer does not confine the expreſſion either to a good or bad ſenſe, but the context plainly ſhews, that they muſt be underſtood in a bad ſenſe; namely to imply, that the people had recourſe to pretended Oracles to juſtify their rebellion. This is evident from what follows, where Neſtor encourages Telemachus to expect that Ulyſſes may puniſh them for their crimes, [...]—if there had been no crime, there ought to be no pu⯑niſhment.

XXIII.

The Poet ſhews his great judgment in preparing the Reader for the de⯑ſtruction of the Suitors: that great Cataſtrophe is manag'd by few hands, and it might ſeem incredible that ſo few could deſtroy ſo many: the Poet therefore to give an air of truth to his action, frequently inculcates the aſſiſtance of Pallas, which muſt at leaſt ſhew that ſuch a great exploit is not impoſſible to be executed by ſtratagems and valour: It is by art, not ſtrength, that Ulyſſes conquers.

This is ſpoken in a general ſenſe, and comprehends not only the ſubjects of Ulyſſes, or even the Pylians and Spartans, but implies that all the Greeks would riſe in the cauſe of Ulyſſes. What the Suitors had ſpoken ſcoffingly in the preceding book, viz. that Telemachus was ſailing to Pyle or Sparta for ſupplies, appears in this not to be impracticable; ſo that it was choice and not neceſſity that de⯑termin'd the Poet to make uſe of no ſuch eaſy expedients for the deſtruction of the Suitors. Euſtathius.

[168] It may be added, that the very nature of Epic Poetry, and of the Odyſſey in particular, requires ſuch a conduct: In the Iliad Achilles is the chief agent, and performs almoſt all the great actions; Aeneas is painted after the ſame manner by Virgil; the one kills Hector, the other Turnus, both which are the deciſive actions: It was equally neceſſary to exalt the character of Ulyſſes, by bringing him into difficulties from which he is perſonally to extricate him⯑ſelf: This the Poet ſufficiently brings about by refuſing all the eaſy methods for his re-eſtabliſhment, becauſe the more difficult ways are moſt conducive to the honour of his Heroe: Thus as Achilles and Aeneas kill Hector and Turnus with their own hands, ſo the Suitors fall chiefly by the hand of Ulyſſes: It is neceſſary for the Heroe of the Poem to execute the deciſive action, for by this method the Poet compleats his character, his own greatneſs ſur⯑mounts all difficulties, and he goes off the ſtage with the utmoſt advantage, by leaving a noble character upon the mind of the ſpectators.

XXIV.

It may be ask'd how an expreſſion ſo near blaſphemy, as Euſta⯑thius obſerves, could eſcape a perſon of ſuch piety as Telemachus? 'Tis true, the Poet makes Minerva herſelf correct it; but yet the objection remains, viz. how could Telemachus ſpeak it? I think ſince the Poet himſelf condemns it, we may give it up as an in⯑decency in Telemachus; it is natural for men in deſpair (and that was the condition of Telemachus) to uſe a vehemence of expreſſi⯑on, and this might tranſport Telemachus beyond the bounds of prudence. The only poſſible way that occurs to me to take off the impiety is to have recourſe to Deſtiny: It was the opinion of the Antients, that the Gods could not alter Deſtiny: and then Telemachus may mean no more, than that it was decreed by the Deſtinies that Ulyſſes ſhall return no more, ſo the Gods themſelves could not reſtore him.

[169] Thus in the 15th of the Metamorphoſis, Venus in vain applies to the Gods to preſerve Julius Caeſar.

And a little lower Jupiter ſays to Venus,

XXV.

Nothing can be better imagin'd to encourage Telemachus, than what the Poet here delivers: She ſets Agamemnon in oppoſition to Ulyſſes: Agamemnon made a ſpeedy voyage to his country, and there fell by treachery; Ulyſſes has long been abſent, but yet is happier than Agamemnon: the Gods perhaps reſerve him for better fortunes, at leaſt nothing can be concluded from his long abſence, and this is ſufficient to teach Telemachus not to deſpair. Euſtathius.

XXVI.

What Minerva here ſays juſtifies the remark I made, that what Telema⯑chus ſeem'd to have ſpoken raſhly, may be ſoften'd if not vindi⯑cated by having recourſe to Deſtiny: It is evident from this paſſage that Deſtiny was ſuperior to the power of the Gods; otherwiſe Minerva ſpeaks as blaſphemouſly as Telemachus: For what diffe⯑rence is there between ſaying, that the Gods cannot preſerve even theſe they love from death, and ſaying that the Gods could not ſave Ulyſſes? Why therefore may not the words of Telemachus be thought to have reſpect to Deſtiny?

I am of opinion, that the Poet had ſomething further in view by putting theſe words into the mouth of Minerva: The words [170] of Telemachus, if taken groſly, might appear ſhocking to ſo pious a perſon as Neſtor, and make an ill impreſſion upon him to the diſadvantage of Telemachus; Minerva therefore artfully ex⯑plains it, and ſoftens the horrour of it by reconciling it to the Theology of thoſe ages.

XXVII.

Telemachus here puts ſeveral queſtions, as it were in a breath, to Neſtor; and Plu⯑tarch obſerves upon this paſſage, that he who enquires any thing of an old man, tho' the old man himſelf has no concern in the ſtory, wins his heart at once; and incites a perſon, who is upon all occaſions very willing to diſcourſe. He introduces this as an inſtance of the art Telemachus uſes, in adapting himſelf by his queſtions to the temper of the perſon with whom he converſes: He puts together, continues he, ſeveral queſtions upon ſeveral ſubjects, which is more judicious than to confine his anſwer to a ſingle interrogatory, and by that method deprive Neſtor of one of the moſt pleaſant enjoyments of old age, I mean the pleaſure of talking. Plutarch Sympoſiac.

XXVIII.

The Poet here tells us that Neſtor was now in his fourth genera⯑tion: Ovid took the word [...] to ſignify an hundred years; but then Neſtor muſt have been above 300 years old. Others with more probability underſtand it to ſignify a generation, or ſuch a portion of time in which any race of men flouriſh together, which is computed to be about thirty years. I refer the Reader to the Note upon the 333d verſe in the firſt book of the Iliad, for the particular age of Neſtor. According to that computati⯑on, he muſt now be about ninety five years of age.

XXIX.

Tele⯑machus does not ask this queſtion out of curioſity, but with great judgment; he knows there were deſigns againſt his life, as well as there had been againſt Agamemnon; he therefore asks it, that he may learn how to defeat them; chiefly to inſtruct himſelf how beſt to aſſiſt his father upon his return, by aiding him in eſca⯑ping the ſnares of the Suitors. Dacier.

XXX.

Homer thro' the whole Odyſſey ſpeaks much in honour of the Art which he himſelf loved, and in which he ſo eminently excell'd: From theſe and other paſſages, we may learn the ſtate of Poetry in thoſe ages: ‘"Poets (ſays Euſtathius) were rank'd in the claſs of Philoſophers; and the Ancients made uſe of them as Prae⯑ceptors in Muſic and Morality."’ Strabo quotes this very paſ⯑ſage as an inſtance of the excellence of Poetry in forming the ſoul to worthy actions: Aegyſthus could not debauch Clytemneſtra, 'till he baniſh'd the Poet, who was her guide and inſtructor.

Various are the conjectures of the Ancients about the name of the Bard here celebrated: Some, ſays Euſtathius, tell us, it was Chariades, ſome Demodocus, ſome Glaucus, &c. but I paſs them over, becauſe they are conjectures.

There were many degrees of theſe [...]; ſome were [...], others [...]: But ſuch Bards as are here mention'd were of an higher ſtation, and retain'd as inſtructors by Kings and Princes.

I cannot omit one remark of Euſtathius: he tells us, that ſome perſons write that theſe [...] had their names from hence, [...]; exactly reſembling the modern Italian ſingers: Madam Dacier is not to be forgiven for paſſing over a remark of ſuch importance; if this be true, it makes a great [172] difference between the antient and modern Poets, and is the on⯑ly advantage I know we have over them.

XXXI.

There is a fine moral couch'd in the ſtory of the Bard and Clytem⯑neſtra; it admirably paints the advantage we draw from wiſe com⯑panions for the improvement of our Virtues: Clytemneſtra was chaſte becauſe her inſtructor was wiſe: His wiſdom was an in⯑ſuperable guard to her modeſty. It was long before ſhe yielded; virtue and honour had a long conteſt: but ſhe no ſooner yielded to adultery, but ſhe aſſiſted in the murder of her husband; from whence we may draw another moral, that one vice betrays us into another, and when once the fences of honour are thrown down, we become a prey to every paſſion. Dacier.

XXXII.

Here is a ſurprizing mixture of religion and impiety: Aegyſthus, upon the accompliſhment of ſo great a crime as adultery, returns thanks to the Gods by oblations, as if they had aſſiſted him in the execution of it. Neſtor dwells upon it at large, to ſhew that Aegyſthus greatly aggravated his guilt by ſuch a piece of impious devotion. Dacier.

XXXIII.

Homer calls the darts of Apollo [...] or gentle; to ſignify that thoſe who dye thus ſuddenly, dye without pain. Euſtathius.

Dacier complains that ſome Critics think Homer worthy of blame for enlarging upon ſo mean a perſon as a pilot, and giving us his genealogy. It is a ſufficient anſwer to obſerve, that arts were in [173] high eſteem in thoſe times, and men that were eminent in them were in great honour. Neither were arts then confin'd as in theſe ages to mean perſonages: no leſs a perſon than Ulyſſes builds a veſſel in the ſequel of the Odyſſey; ſo that this is a falſe piece of delicacy. If Homer be culpable, ſo is Virgil; he gives the ge⯑nealogy of Palinurus, as well as Homer of Phrontis. Virgil's de⯑ſcription is cenſur'd as too long, Homer concludes his in ſeven lines; and laſtly, Virgil's Epiſode has been judg'd by the Critics to be an unneceſſary ornament, and to contribute nothing to the Poem: Homer relates the death of Phrontis, to introduce the diſ⯑perſion of the fleet of Menelaus; the fleet might well be ſcat⯑ter'd, when it wanted ſo excellent a pilot.

XXXIV.

Homer does not amuſe us by relating, what became of theſe com⯑panions of Menelaus; he omits this judiciouſly, and follows the thread of his ſtory: Menelaus is the perſon whom the Poet has in view; he therefore paſſes over the ſtory of his companions, to carry on the fable of the Poem by leading us directly to Menelaus.

XXXV.

In the original it is, The wind and water carry'd them to Aegyptus. Homer by Aegyptus means the river Nile, and then it is always uſed in the maſculine gender; the region about it took its name from the river Aegyptus, this is always uſed in the feminine gender; but the country had not receiv'd that name in the days of Homer. Euſtathius.

What Dacier adds to this obſervation, may aſſiſt in determi⯑ning the diſpute concerning the priority of Homer and Heſiod: He⯑ſiod makes mention of the river Nilus; if therefore it be true that Aegyptus had not been called by the name of Nilus in the times [174] of Homer, it is a demonſtration that Heſiod was poſterior to Ho⯑mer; otherwiſe he could not have been acquainted with any other name but that of Aegyptus.

XXXVI.

There is a different reading in this place: inſtead of [...], ſome write [...]; for Oreſtes was educated by Strophius King of Phocis, and father of Pylades: The Ancients reconcile the diffe⯑rence, by ſaying that Oreſtes might be ſent from Phocis to Athens for his education, and returning thence to his own country, might revenge the death of his father Agamemnon; ſo that al⯑though he was firſt bred up in Phocis, he was afterwards a ſojour⯑ner in Athens. Euſtathius.

XXXVII.

It muſt be confeſt, that Neſtor greatly exaggerates this deſcripti⯑on: Homer himſelf tells us, that a ſhip may ſail in five days from Crete to Aegypt; wherefore then this Hyperbole of Neſtor? It might perhaps be to deter Telemachus from a deſign of ſailing to Crete, and he through his inexperience might believe the deſcri⯑ption. It may be added, that what Neſtor ſpeaks concerning the flight of birds, may be only ſaid to ſhew the great diſtance of that ſea: Nay, by a favourable interpretation it may be recon⯑cil'd to truth; the meaning then muſt be this: Should a perſon obſerve that ſea a whole year, he would not ſee one bird flying over it, both becauſe of the vaſtneſs and dreadfulneſs of it; and perhaps the whole of this might ariſe from the obſervation, that this ſea is not frequented by birds. This is wholly and almoſt li⯑terally taken from Euſtathius; and if we add to this the igno⯑rance of the ſea and ſea-affairs in thoſe ages, we ſhall the leſs won⯑der to hear ſo wiſe a man as Neſtor deſcribing it with ſo much [175] terror; Navigation is now greatly improv'd, and the Moderns ſail further in a month, than the Ancients could in a year; their whole art conſiſting chiefly in coaſting along the ſhores, and con⯑ſequently they made but little way.

XXXVIII.

Various are the reaſons which Euſtathius reports concerning this oblation of the tongues at the concluſion of the ſacrifice. It was to purge themſelves from any evil words they might have utter'd; or becauſe the tongue was reckon'd the beſt part of the ſacrifice, and ſo reſerv'd for the completion of it; or they offer'd the tongue to the Gods, as witneſſes to what they had ſpoken. I omit the reſt as ſuperfluous. They had a cuſtom of offering the tongues to Mercury, becauſe they believ'd him the giver of Eloquence. Da⯑cier expatiates upon this cuſtom: The people, ſays ſhe, might fear, leſt thro' wine and the joy of the feſtival they might have ut⯑ter'd ſome words unbecoming the ſanctity of the occaſion: by this ſacrifice of the tongues, they ſignify'd that they pur⯑ged away whatever they had ſpoken amiſs during the feſti⯑val; and ask'd in particular pardon of Mercury, who preſi⯑ded over diſcourſe; to the end they might not carry home any uncleanneſs which might ſtop the bleſſings expected from the ſacrifice.

XXXIX.

Euſtathius ſhews the difference between [...] feſtivals, and [...], or ſacrifices: in the former it was cuſtomary to ſpend the whole night in wine and rejoicing: In the latter, this was reck⯑on'd an unlawful cuſtom, thro' the fear of falling into any inde⯑cencies through wine. He likewiſe gives another reaſon of this injunction, by telling us that it was the cuſtom to offer ſacrifices [176] to the celeſtial Powers in the time of the day, and even to fi⯑niſh them about the ſetting of the ſun; and that thoſe who dealt in incantations perform'd their ſacrifices to the infernal powers by night, and finiſh'd them before ſun-riſing. Either of theſe reaſons ſufficiently explains the words of the Goddeſs; and the former carries in it an excellent moral, that particular care ſhould be taken in our acts of devotion, not to turn religion into impiety.

XL.

This paſſage gives us a full inſight into the manners of theſe hoſpita⯑ble ages; they not only kept a treaſury for bowls or vaſes of gold or ſilver, to give as [...], or gifts of hoſpitality, but alſo a wardrobe of various habits and rich furniture, to lodge and be⯑ſtow upon ſtrangers. Euſtathius relates, that Tellias of Agrigen⯑tum was a perſon of ſo great hoſpitality, that five hundred horſe⯑men coming to his houſe in the winter ſeaſon, he entertain'd them, and gave every man a cloak and a tunic. This laudable cuſtom prevailed, and ſtill prevails, in the eaſtern countries: it was the practice of Abraham of old, and is at this day of the Turks, as we may learn from their Caravanſaries, erected for the reception of travellers. And yet Dacier obſerves, that a French Critic has ſhew'd ſo ill a taſte as to ridicule this paſſage. ‘"Te⯑lemachus (ſays that Author) being entertain'd by Neſtor, inti⯑mates his intention of returning to lodge on ſhipboard with his companions: but Neſtor detains him, by asking if he thought he had not quilts or coverlets to give him a night's lodging? Upon this Telemachus goes to bed in a reſounding gallery, and Neſtor in a bed which his wife made ready for him."’ The nobleſt things are moſt liable to burleſque, by perverting their meaning; as ſome pictures, by varying the poſition, repreſent a man or a monſter. He is very ſevere upon the reſounding gallery, which in truth means no more than very lofty or elevated, and by conſe⯑quence very noble and magnificent.

XLI.

The Poet makes a double uſe of theſe words of the Goddeſs; ſhe gives an air of probability to her excuſe, why ſhe ſhould not be preſs'd to ſtay; and at the ſame time Homer avoids the abſurdity of intro⯑ducing that Goddeſs at Sparta, where Menelaus and Helen are ce⯑lebrating the nuptials of their ſon and daughter: Minerva is a Virgin Deity, and conſequently an enemy to all nuptial ceremo⯑nies. Euſtathius.

But it may be neceſſary to obſerve who theſe Caucons are: we find in the tenth book the Caucons mention'd as auxiliaries to Troy: There Dolon ſays

Are theſe Caucons the ſame with thoſe here mention'd? Euſtathius informs us, that there was a people of Triphyly, between Elis and Pylos, named Caucons: But Strabo ſays, that the whole race is now extinct, and that theſe here mention'd are of Dymaea, and take their name from the river Caucon: whereas thoſe in the Iliads are Paphlagonians: they were a wandring nation, and conſequently might be the ſame people originally, and retain the ſame name in different countries.

XLII.

It may be ask'd why Neſtor is in ſuch a ſurprize at the diſcovery of the Goddeſs: It is evident from the Iliad, that he had been no ſtranger to ſuch intercourſes of the Deities; nay, in this very book Neſtor tells us, that Ulyſſes enjoy'd almoſt the conſtant preſence of Minerva; inſomuch that Sophocles, the great imitator of Homer, relates, that he knew the Goddeſs by her voice, without ſeeing [178] her. Euſtathius anſwers, that the wonder of Neſtor aroſe not from the diſcovery of that Deity, but that ſhe ſhould accompany ſo young a perſon as Telemachus: After her departure, the old man ſtood amaz'd, and look'd upon that Heroe as ſome very extraordi⯑nary perſon, whom in ſuch early years the Goddeſs of War and Wiſ⯑dom had vouchſafed to attend. This interpretation agrees perfect⯑ly with what Neſtor ſpeaks to Telemachus.

XLIII.

I will take this opportunity to obviate an objection that may be made againſt all interpoſition of the Gods in aſſiſting the Heroes of the Odyſſey: It has been thought by ſome Critics a diſparagement to them to ſtand in continual need of ſuch ſupernatural ſuccour: If two perſons were engaged in combat, and a third perſon ſhould immediately ſtep in to the aſſiſtance of one of the parties and kill the adverſary, would it not reflect upon the valour of his friend who was ſo weak as to want ſuch aſſiſtance? Why, for in⯑ſtance, ſhould Jupiter help Aeneas to kill Turnus? Was not he brave enough to fight, and ſtrong enough to conquer his enemy by his own proweſs? and would not Turnus have kill'd Aeneas with the ſame aſſiſtance? It is therefore a diſparagement to the actors, thus con⯑tinually to ſupply the defects of a Heroe, by the power of a Deity.

But this is a falſe way of arguing, and from hence it might be infer'd that the love and favour of a Deity ſerves only to make thoſe whom he aſſiſts, and thoſe who depend upon ſuch aſſiſtance, appear weak, impotent, cowardly, and unworthy to be conque⯑rors. Can any doubt ariſe whether the love and favour of a God be a diſparagement or honour to thoſe whom he favours? Ac⯑cording to theſe Critics, we ſhould find the character of a per⯑fect Heroe in an impious Mezentius, who acknowledges no God but his own arm and his own ſword: 'Tis true, the objection would be juſt if the Heroe himſelf perform'd nothing of the action; or if when he were almoſt conquer'd by the ſuperior va⯑lour of his enemy, he ow'd his life and victory to Gods [179] and Miracles: But the Heroe always behaves himſelf in all his actions, as if he were to gain ſucceſs without the aſſiſtance of the Deity; and the preſence of the Gods is ſo order'd, that we may retrench every thing that is miraculous, without making any alteration in the action or character of the human perſona⯑ges. Thus in the inſtance of Aeneas and Turnus, tho' Jupiter fa⯑vours Aeneas, yet Aeneas is painted in ſtronger colours of forti⯑tude, he appears ſuperior, as a man unaſſiſted, and able to conquer Turnus; and conſequently the favour of Jupiter makes no altera⯑tion in the action or character of Aeneas.

There is likewiſe a wide difference between the aſſiſtance of a Man, and of a God: The actions of men belong only to the performers of thoſe actions, but when a Deity aſſiſts us by in⯑ſpiring us with ſtrength and courage, the actions we perform are really our own, and the more he favours us the more glory he gives us: ſo that the aſſiſtance of man eclipſes, but the aſſiſtance of a God exalts, our glory. Thus for inſtance, when Achilles is purſuing Hector, he charges the Greeks to keep off from Hector; their aſſiſtance might leſſen his glory: but when Pallas offers her aſſiſtance he immediately embraces it as an honour, and boaſts of it as ſuch to Hector. I have been large upon this objection, becauſe the Reader ought to carry it in his memory thro' the whole Po⯑em, and apply it to every action, in which any ſhare is aſcribed to any Deity. See Boſſu more at large concerning this objection.

XLIV.

We have here an ancient cuſtom recorded by the Poet; a King places himſelf before the gate of his Palace upon a ſeat of marble, worn ſmooth by long uſe, ſays Euſtathius, or perhaps ſmooth'd exquiſitely by the hand of the workman. What I would chiefly obſerve is, that they placed themſelves thus in public for the diſpatch of juſtice: We read in the ſcripture of Judges ſitting in the gate; and that this procedure of Neſtor was for that purpoſe is probable from the expreſſion, He ſate in the ſeat where Ne⯑leus [180] [ [...], or Conſiliarius,] uſed to ſit, (which ſeems to expreſs his wiſdom in the diſcharge of juſtice.) Neſtor is alſo deſcrib'd as bearing his ſceptre in his hand, which was never uſed but upon ſome act of regality, in the diſpatch of juſtice, or other ſolemn occaſions. Perhaps, ſays Dacier, theſe ſeats or thrones might be conſecrated with oil, to draw a reverence to the ſeats of Juſtice, as by an act of religion; but I rather judge (adds ſhe) that no more is meant than to expreſs the ſhining of theſe thrones, they being undoubtedly made of marble.

XLV.

Would I indulge my fancy in a conjecture, I might ſuppoſe that the famous tyrant Piſiſtratus was deſcended, or borrow'd his name, from this ſon of Neſtor. Herodotus informs us, as Euſtathius obſerves, that all the Piſiſtrati were originally Pylians. If this be true, we have a very ſtrong evidence that Homer is not all fiction, but that he celebrates the great men of thoſe ages with reality, and only embelliſhes the true ſtory with the ornaments of Poetry.

XLVI.

The Author of the Parallel quotes this paſſage to prove that Homer was igno⯑rant of the Mechanic arts: We have here, ſays he, a Gilder with his anvil and hammer; but what occaſion has he for an anvil and hammer in the art of a Gilder? Boileau has excellently vindi⯑cated Homer from this objection, in his reflections upon Longinus; this Gilder was a gold-beater; Neſtor we ſee furniſh'd the gold, and he beat it into leaves, ſo that he had occaſion to make uſe of his anvil and hammer; the anvil was portable, becauſe the work was not laborious. Our modern travellers aſſure us, that it is at this day the practice in the eaſtern regions, as in Perſia, &c. for the artiſts in metals to carry about with them the whole imple⯑ments of trade, to the houſe of the perſons where they find em⯑ployment; [181] it is therefore a full vindication of Homer, to obſerve that the gold this artiſt uſed in gilding, was nothing but gold beat into fine leaves.

XLVII.

It may be ask'd in what ſenſe Minerva can be ſaid to come to the ſacrifice? Euſta⯑thius anſwers, that the Ancients finding the inclinations of men to be bent incontinently upon pleaſures, to oblige them to uſe them moderately, diſtinguiſh'd times, ordain'd ſacrifices, and repre⯑ſenting the Gods in the forms of men, brought them to uſe thoſe pleaſures with diſcretion; they taught them that the Gods came down to their libations and ſacrifices, to induce them to govern their converſation with reverence and modeſty: Thus Ju⯑piter and the other Gods in the Iliads, and Neptune in the Odyſſey, are ſaid to feaſt with the Aethiopians.

If I might be pardon'd a conjecture, I would ſuppoſe, that Minerva may in another ſenſe be ſaid to come to the ſacrifice; I mean by her Image or ſtatue: and what may ſeem to confirm this opinion, is what Diodorus relates in his third book concerning the above-mention'd Aethiopians; they carry'd about the ſtatues of Jupiter and the other Gods twelve days, during which time the Gods were ſaid to be gone to the Aethiopians: and if the Gods may be ſaid to come to the Aethiopians by their ſtatues; why may not the ſame be ſaid of Minerva, from the introduction of her ſtatue among the Pylians? So that the appearance of the Goddeſs may poſſibly mean the appearance of her ſtatue.

XLVIII.

Neſtor here makes uſe only of the miniſtry of his ſons; the reaſon of it is, becauſe it was reckon'd honourable to ſerve in the performance of ſacrifice, this being in ſome ſenſe an attending upon the Gods: or becauſe it was the practice of thoſe ages for [182] great perſons to do thoſe offices with their own hands, which in the latter have been perform'd by ſervants.

Euſtathius reports a ſaying of Antigonus, who obſerving his ſon behaving himſelf imperiouſly to his ſubjects, ‘"Know'ſt thou not, ſays he, that Royalty it ſelf is but illuſtrious ſervitude!"’ an intimation that he himſelf was but a ſervant of the public, and therefore ſhould uſe his ſervants with moderation.

But the true reaſon of Neſtor's aſſiſting in the ſacrifice is, be⯑cauſe Kings anciently had the inſpection of religion, and Prieſt⯑hood was joyn'd to Royalty, according to that of Virgil, ‘Rex Anius, rex idem hominum Phoebique ſacerdos.’

XLIX.

I have kept the meaning of the word in the original, which ſig⯑nifies prayers made with loud cries, [...], ſays He⯑ſychius, is, [...], the voice of women, which they make at ſacrifices in their pray⯑ers. But there is ſtill ſomething in it more to the preſent pur⯑poſe; the Scholiaſt upon Aeſchylns remarks, that this word is not uſed properly but when apply'd to the prayers offer'd to Minerva; for Minerva is the only Goddeſs to whom prayers are made with loud cries, ſhe being the Goddeſs of War; to other Deities they offer prayer with thankſgiving; [...].

Thus alſo in the 6th book of the Iliads, verſe 301.

And in the preſent paſſage in the Odyſſey,

L.

It is very neceſſary to ſay ſomething about this practice of wo⯑men bathing and anointing men; it frequently occurs thro' the whole Odyſſey, and is ſo contrary to the uſage of the moderns as to give offence to modeſty; neither is this done by women of in⯑ferior quality, but we have here a young Princeſs, bathing, anoint⯑ing, and cloathing the naked Telemachus. Euſtathius indeed tells us, it was undoubtedly by her father's command: but if it was a piece of immodeſty, it does not ſolve the objection, whoever com⯑manded it. I confeſs it would be immodeſt in theſe ages of the world, and the only excuſe that occurs to me is, to ſay that Cu⯑ſtom eſtabliſh'd it. It is in manners, in ſome degree, as in dreſs; if a faſhion never ſo indecent prevails, yet no perſon is ridi⯑culous, becauſe it is faſhionable; ſo in manners, if a practice pre⯑vails univerſally, tho' not reconcilable to real modeſty, yet no per⯑ſon can be ſaid to be immodeſt who comes into it, becauſe it is agreeable to the cuſtom of the times and countries.

I ſhall lay together what I have further to obſerve on the concluſion of this book: It is remarkable that the Poet does not amuſe himſelf in deſcri⯑bing the preſent he receiv'd from Neſtor, or the proviſions for the journey, or even the journey it ſelf at large; he diſpatches the whole in a few lines very judiciouſly; he carries his Heroe directly to Menelaus, who is to furniſh many incidents that contribute to the deſign of the Poem, and paſſes over other matters as unneceſſary.

We have here likewiſe a piece of poetical Geography, and learn that it is exactly two days journey from Pyle to Lacedaemon.

This book takes up three days; the firſt is ſpent in the enquiries Telemachus makes of Neſtor concerning Ulyſſes; the two laſt in the morning ſacrifice at Pylos, and in the journey of Telemachus to Lacedaemon; ſo that five days have now paſs'd ſince the opening [184] of the Poem. I have ſaid nothing about the ſacrifice, tho' it be the moſt exact deſcription of the ſacrifices as practis'd by the An⯑cients, perhaps extant in any Author; I refer to the obſervations upon the firſt book of the Iliad.

I would here remark that the three firſt books are writ⯑ten with the utmoſt ſimplicity, there has been no room for ſuch exalted ſtrokes of Poetry as are to be found in the Iliad, or in the future parts of the Odyſſey: But this is not owing to the decay of genius in Homer, as ſome Critics have affirm'd, (who look upon the Odyſſey as bearing marks of his declining years,) but to the nature of the ſubject. The characters of Achilles and Ulyſſes are both very great, but very different. The Iliad con⯑ſiſts of battles, and a continual commotion; the Odyſſey in Pati⯑ence and Wiſdom: and conſequently the ſtyle of the two Poems muſt be as different as the characters of the two Heroes. A no⯑ble fountain of Poetry opens in the next book, and flows with an uninterrupted courſe almoſt through the whole Odyſſey.