I.

VERSE 5. ONE might fancy at the firſt reading of this Paſſage, that Homer here turn'd aſide from the main View of his Poem in a vain Oſtentation of Learning, to amuſe himſelf with a foreign and unneceſſary De⯑ſcription of the Manners and Cuſtoms of theſe Nations. But we ſhall find, upon better Conſideration, that Jupiter's turning aſide his Eyes was neceſſary to the Conduct of the Work, as it gives Opportunity to Neptune to aſſiſt the Greeks, and thereby cauſes all the Adventures of this Book. Madam Dacier is too refining on this occaſion; when ſhe would have it, that Jupiter's averting his Eyes ſignifies his abandon⯑ing the Trojans; in the ſame manner, as the Scripture repre⯑ſents the Almighty turning his Face from thoſe whom he de⯑ſerts. But at this rate Jupiter turning his Eyes from the Battel, muſt deſert both the Trojans and the Greeks; and it is evident from the Context, that Jupiter intended nothing leſs than to let the Trojans ſuffer.

II.

‘VERSE 9. And where the far-fam'd Hippemolgian ſtrays.]’ There is much diſpute among the Criticks, which are the proper Names, and which the Epithets, in theſe Verſes: Some making [...] the Epithet to [...], others [...] the Epithet to [...]; and [...], which by the common Interpreters is thought only an Epithet, is by Strabo and Ammianus Marcellinus made the proper Name of a People. In this Diverſity of Opinions, I have choſen that which I thought would make the beſt Figure in Poetry. It is a beau⯑tiful and moral Imagination, to ſuppoſe that the long Life of the Hippemolgians was an Effect of their ſimple Diet, and a Reward of their Juſtice: And that the ſupreme Being, diſ⯑pleas'd at the continued Scenes of human Violence and Diſ⯑ſenſion, as it were recreated his Eyes in contemplating the Simplicity of theſe People.

It is obſervable that the ſame Cuſtom of living on Milk is preſerv'd to this Day by the Tartars, who inhabit the ſame Country.

III.

Monſ. de la Motte has play'd the Critick upon this Paſſage a little unadviſedly. ‘"Neptune, ſays he, is impatient to aſſiſt the Greeks. Homer tells us that this God goes firſt to ſeek his Chariot in a certain Place; next he arrives at another Place nearer the Camp; there he takes off his Horſes, and then he locks them faſt to ſecure them at his Return. The Detail of ſo many little Particularities no way ſuits the Majeſty of a God, or the Impatience in which he is deſcribed."’ Another French Writer makes an⯑ſwer, that however impatient Neptune is repreſented to be, none of the Gods ever go to the War without their Arms; and the Arms, Chariot and Horſes of Neptune were at Aegae. He makes but four Steps to get thither; ſo that what M. de [57] la Motte calls being ſlow, is Swiftneſs itſelf. The God puts on his Arms, mounts his Chariot, and departs: nothing is more rapid than his Courſe; he flies over the Waters: the Verſes of Homer in that Place run ſwifter than the God him⯑ſelf. It is ſufficient to have Ears, to perceive the Rapidity of Neptune's Chariot in the very Sound of thoſe three Lines, each of which is entirely compos'd of Dactyles, excepting that one Spondee which muſt neceſſarily terminate the Verſe.

IV.

Longinus confeſſes himſelf wonderfully ſtruck with the Subli⯑mity of this Paſſage. That Critick, after having blam'd the Defects with which Homer draws the Manners of his Gods, adds, that he has much better ſucceeded in deſcribing their Figure and Perſons. He owns that he often paints a God ſuch as he is, in all his Majeſty and Grandeur, and without any Mixture of mean and terreſtrial Images; of which he produces this Paſſage as a remarkable Inſtance, and one that had challeng'd the Admiration of all Antiquity.

The Book of Pſalms affords us a Deſcription of the like ſublime manner of Imagery, which is parallel to this. O God, when thou wenteſt forth before thy People, when thou didſt march through the Wilderneſs, the Earth ſhook, the Hea⯑vens dropped at the Preſence of God, even Sinai itſelf was moved at the Preſence of God, the God of Iſrael. Pſ. 68.

V.

‘VERSE 32.—Three ample Strides he took.]’ This is a ve⯑ry grand Imagination, and equals, if not tranſcends, the Sublimity of what he has feign'd before of the Paſſage of this [58] God. We are told, that at four Steps he reach'd Aegae, which (ſuppoſing it meant of the Town of that Name in Euboea, which lay the nigheſt to Thrace) is hardly leſs than a Degree at each Step. One may, from a View of the Map, imagine him ſtriding from Promontory to Promontory, his firſt Step on Mount Athos, his ſecond on Pallene, his third upon Pelion, and his fourth in Euboea. Dacier is not to be forgiven for omitting this miraculous Circumſtance, which ſo perfectly agrees with the marvellous Air of the whole Paſ⯑ſage, and without which the ſublime Image of Homer is not compleat.

VI.

‘VERSE 33.—The diſtant Aegae ſhook.]’ There were three Places of this Name which were all ſacred to Neptune; an Iſland in the Aegean Sea mention'd by Nicoſtratus, a Town in Peloponneſus, and another in Euboea. Homer is ſuppoſed in this Paſſage to ſpeak of the laſt; but the Queſtion is put, why Neptune who ſtood upon a Hill in Samothrace, inſtead of going on the left to Troy, turns to the right, and takes a way contrary to that which leads to the Army? This Diffi⯑culty is ingeniouſly ſolv'd by the old Scholiaſt; who ſays, that Jupiter being now on Mount Ida, with his Eyes turn'd towards Thrace, Neptune could not take the direct way from Samothrace to Troy without being diſcover'd by him; and therefore fetches this Compaſs to conceal himſelf. Euſtathius is contented to ſay, that the Poet made Neptune go ſo far about, for the Opportunity of thoſe fine Deſcriptions of the Palace, the Chariot, and the Paſſage of this God.

VII.

‘VERSE 43. Th' enormous Monſters rolling o'er the Deep.]’ This Deſcription of Neptune riſes upon us; his Paſſage by Water is yet more pompous than that by Land. The God driving thro' the Seas, the Whales acknowledging him, and the Waves rejoicing and making way for their Monarch, are full of that Marvellous ſo natural to the Imagination of our [59] Author. And I cannot but think the Verſes of Virgil in the fifth Aeneid are ſhort of his Original.

I fancy Scaliger himſelf was ſenſible of this, by his paſſing in Silence a Paſſage which lay ſo obvious to Compariſon.

VIII.

What Addreſs, and at the ſame time, what Strength is there in theſe Words? Neptune tells the two Ajaces, that he is on⯑ly afraid for their Poſt, and that the Greeks will periſh by that Gate, ſince it is Hector who aſſaults it; at every other Quar⯑ter, the Trojans will be repuls'd: It may therefore be pro⯑perly ſaid, that the Ajaces only are vanquiſh'd, and that their Defeat draws Deſtruction upon all the Greeks. I don't think that any thing better could be invented to animate couragious Men, and make them attempt even Impoſſibilities. Dacier.

IX.

‘VERSE 83. If yet ſome heav'nly Pow'r, &c.]’ Here Nep⯑tune conſidering how the Greeks were diſcourag'd by the Knowledge that Jupiter aſſiſted Hector, inſinuates, that not⯑withſtanding Hector's Confidence in that Aſſiſtance, yet the Power of ſome other God might countervail it on their part; wherein he alludes to his own aiding them, and ſeems not to doubt his Ability of conteſting the Point with Jove him⯑ſelf. 'Tis with the ſame Confidence he afterwards ſpeaks to Iris, of himſelf and his Power, when he refuſes to ſubmit to the Order of Jupiter in the fifteenth Book. Euſtathius re⯑marks, what an Incentive it muſt be to the Ajaces, to hear thoſe who could ſtand againſt Hector equall'd, in this oblique manner, to the Gods themſelves.

X.

‘VERSE 97. Th' inſpiring God Oileus' active Son—Perceiv'd the firſt.]’ The Reaſon has been ask'd, why the leſſer Ajax is the firſt to perceive the Aſſiſtance of the God? And the an⯑cient Solution of this Queſtion was very ingenious, as we have it from Euſtathius. They ſaid that the greater Ajax, being ſlow of Apprehenſion, and naturally valiant, could not be ſenſible ſo ſoon of this Acceſſion of Strength, as the other, who immediately perceiv'd it as not owing ſo much to his natural Courage.

XI.

‘VERSE 102. Short as he turn'd, I ſaw the Pow'r.]’ This Opinion, that the Majeſty of the Gods was ſuch that they could not be ſeen Face to Face by Men, ſeems to have been generally receiv'd in moſt Nations. Spondanus obſerves, that it might be derived from ſacred Truth, and founded upon what God ſays to Moſes in Exodus, Ch. 33. ℣. 20, 23. Man ſhall not ſee me and live: Thou ſhalt ſee my back Parts, but my Face thou ſhalt not behold. For the farther Particulars of this Notion among the Heathens, ſee the 30th Note on the firſt, and the 69th on the fifth Book.

XII.

‘VERSE 131. The Speech of Neptune to the Greeks.]’ After Neptune in his former Diſcourſe to the Ajaces, who yet main⯑tain'd a retreating Fight, had encouraged them to withſtand the Attack of the Trojans; he now addreſſes himſelf to thoſe, who having fled out of the Battel, and retired to the Ships, had given up all for loſt. Theſe he endeavours to bring again to the Engagement, by one of the moſt noble and ſpi⯑rited Speeches in the whole Iliad. He repreſents that their preſent miſerable Condition was not to be imputed to their want of Power, but to their want of Reſolution to withſtand the Enemy, whom by Experience they had often found unable [61] to reſiſt them. But what is particularly artful, while he is en⯑deavouring to prevail upon them, is that he does not attribute their preſent Dejection of Mind to a cowardly Spirit, but to a Reſentment and Indignation of their General's Uſage of their favourite Hero Achilles. With the ſame ſoftning Art, he tells them, he ſcorns to ſpeak thus to Cowards, but is only con⯑cern'd for their Misbehaviour as they are the braveſt of the Army. He then exhorts them for their own ſake to avoid Deſtruction, which would certainly be inevitable, if for a Moment longer they delay'd to oppoſe ſo imminent a Danger.

XIII.

‘VERSE 141. A Rout undiſciplin'd, &c.]’ I tranſlate this Line,

with Alluſion to the want of military Diſcipline among the Bar⯑barians, ſo often hinted at in Homer. He is always oppoſing to this the exact and regular Diſpoſition of his Greeks, and accordingly a few Lines after, we are told that the Grecian Phalanxes were ſuch, that Mars or Minerva could not have found a Defect in them.

XIV.

‘VERSE 155. Prevent this Evil, &c.]’ The Verſe in the Original,

may be capable of receiving another Senſe to this Effect. If it be your Reſentment of Agamemnon's Uſage of Achilles, that withholds you from the Battel, that Evil (viz. the Diſſenſion of thoſe two Chiefs) may ſoon be remedy'd, for the Minds of good Men are eaſily calm'd and compos'd. I had once tranſ⯑lated it,

But upon conſidering the whole Context more attentively, the other Explanation (which is that of Didymus) appeared to me the more natural and unforc'd, and I have accordingly follow'd it.

XV.

‘VERSE 171. Fix'd at his Poſt was each bold Ajax found, &c.]’ We muſt here take notice of an old Story, which however groundleſs and idle it ſeems, is related by Plutarch, Philo⯑ſtratus and others. Ganictor the Son of Amphidamas King of Euboea, celebrating with all Solemnity the Funeral of his Fa⯑ther, proclaimed according to Cuſtom ſeveral publick Games, among which was the Prize for Poetry: Homer and Heſiod came to diſpute for it. After they had produc'd ſeveral Pieces on either ſide, in all which the Audience declar'd for Homer, Panides the Brother of the deceaſed, who ſate as one of the Judges, order'd each of the contending Poets to recite that Part of his Works which he eſteem'd the beſt. Heſiod re⯑peated thoſe Lines which make the beginning of his ſe⯑cond Book,

Homer anſwer'd with the Verſes which follow here: But the Prince preferring the peaceful Subject of Heſiod to the mar⯑tial one of Homer, contrary to the Expectation of all, ad⯑judg'd the Prize to Heſiod. The Commentators upon this occaſion are very rhetorical, and univerſally exclaim againſt ſo crying a Piece of Injuſtice. All the hardeſt Names which Learning can furniſh, are very liberally beſtow'd upon poor Panides. Spondanus is mighty ſmart, calls him Midas, takes him by the Ear, and asks the dead Prince as many inſulting Queſtions, as any of his Author's Heroes could [63] have done. Dacier with all Gravity tells us, that Poſterty prov'd a more equitable Judge than Panides. And if I had not told this Tale in my turn, I muſt have incurred the Cen⯑ſure of all the Schoolmaſters in the Nation.

XVI,

‘VERSE 173. So cloſe their Order, &c.]’ When Homer re⯑touches the ſame Subject, he has always the Art to riſe in his Ideas above what he ſaid before. We ſhall find an In⯑ſtance of it in this Place; if we compare this manner of com⯑mending the exact Diſcipline of an Army, with what he had made uſe of on the ſame occaſion at the end of the fourth Iliad. There it is ſaid, that the moſt experienc'd Warrior could not have reprehended any thing, had he been led by Pallas thro' the Battel; but here he carries it farther, in af⯑firming that Pallas and the God of War themſelves muſt have admir'd this Diſpoſition of the Grecian Forces. Euſtathius.

XVII.

‘VERSE 177. A choſen Phalanx, firm, &c.]’ Homer in theſe Lines has given us a Deſcription of the Ancient Pha⯑lanx, which conſiſted of ſeveral Ranks of Men cloſely ranged in this order. The firſt Line ſtood with their Spears levell'd directly forward; the ſecond Rank being armed with Spears two Cubits longer, levell'd them likewiſe forward thro' the Interſtices of the firſt; and the third in the ſame manner held forth their Spears yet longer, thro' the two former Ranks; ſo that the Points of the Spears of the three Ranks terminated in one Line. All the other Ranks ſtood with their Spears erected, in Readineſs to advance, and fill the vacant Places of ſuch as fell. This is the Account Euſtathius gives of the Phalanx, which he obſerves was only fit for a Body of Men acting on the Defenſive, but improper for the Attack: And accordingly Homer here only deſcribes the Greeks ordering their Battel in this manner, when they had no other View but to ſtand their Ground againſt the furious Aſſault of the Trojans. The ſame Commentator obſerves [64] from Hermolytus, an ancient Writer of Tacticks, that this manner of ordering the Phalanx was afterwards introduc'd among the Spartans by Lycurgus, among the Argives by Ly⯑ſander, among the Thebans by Epaminondas, and among the Macedonians by Charidemus.

XVIII.

‘VERSE 191. As from ſome Mountain's craggy Forehead torn, &c.]’ This is one of the nobleſt Simile's in all Homer, and the moſt juſtly correſponding in its Circumſtances to the thing deſcribed. The furious Deſcent of Hector from the Wall repreſented by a Stone that flies from the top of a Rock, the Hero puſh'd on by the ſuperior Force of Jupiter, as the Stone driven by a Torrent, the Ruins of the Wall falling af⯑ter him, all things yielding before him, the Clamour and Tumult around him, all imag'd in the violent bounding and leaping of the Stone, the crackling of the Woods, the Shock, the Noiſe, the Rapidity, the Irreſiſtibility, and the Augmentation of Force in its Progreſs. All theſe Points of Likeneſs make but the firſt Part of this admirable Simile. Then the ſudden Stop of the Stone when it comes to the Plain, as of Hector at the Phalanx of the Ajaces (alluding alſo to the natural Situation of the Ground, Hector ruſhing down the Declivity of the Shore, and being ſtopp'd on the Level of the Sea.) And laſtly, the Immobility of both when ſo ſtopp'd, the Enemy being as unable to move him back, as he to get forward: This laſt Branch of the Compariſon is the hap⯑pieſt in the World, and tho' not hitherto obſerv'd, is what methinks makes the principal Beauty and Force of it. The Simile is copied by Virgil, Aen. 12.

[65] And Taſſo has again copied it from Virgil in his 18th Book.

It is but Juſtice to Homer to take notice how infinitely infe⯑rior both theſe Similes are to their Original. They have ta⯑ken the Image without the Likeneſs, and loſt thoſe corre⯑ſponding Circumſtances which raiſe the Juſtneſs and Subli⯑mity of Homer's. In Virgil it is only the Violence of Turnus in which the whole Application conſiſts: And in Taſſo it has no farther Alluſion than to the Fall of a Tower in general.

There is yet another Beauty in the Numbers of this Part. As the Verſes themſelves make us ſee, the Sound of them makes us hear what they repreſent, in the noble Roughneſs, Rapidity, and ſonorous Cadence that diſtinguiſhes them.

The Tranſlation, however ſhort it falls of theſe Beauties, may yet ſerve to ſhew the Reader, that there was at leaſt an Endeavour to imitate them.

XIX.

‘VERSE 279. Idomen of Crete.]’ Idomeneus appears at large in this Book, whoſe Character (if I take it right) is ſuch as we ſee pretty often in common Life: A Perſon of the firſt Rank, ſufficient enough of his high Birth, growing into Years, con⯑ſcious of his Decline in Strength and active Qualities; and therefore endeavouring to make it up to himſelf in Dignity, and to preſerve the Veneration of others. The true Picture of a ſtiff old Soldier, not willing to loſe any of the Reputation [66] he has acquir'd; yet not inconſiderate in Danger; but by the Senſe of his Age, and by his Experience in Battel, become too cautious to engage with any great odds againſt him: Ve⯑ry careful and tender of his Soldiers, whom he had com⯑manded ſo long that they were become old Acquaintance; (ſo that it was with great Judgment Homer choſe to intro⯑duce him here, in performing a kind Office to one of 'em who was wounded.) Talkative upon Subjects of War, as afraid that others might loſe the Memory of what he had done in better Days, of which the long Converſation with Meriones, and Ajax's Reproach to him in Iliad 23. ℣. 478. are ſuffici⯑ent Proofs. One may obſerve ſome Strokes of Lordlineſs and State in his Character: That Reſpect Agamemnon ſeems careful to treat him with, and the particular Diſtinctions ſhewn him at Table, are mention'd in a manner that inſinu⯑ates they were Points upon which this Prince not a little in⯑ſiſted. Il. 4. ℣. 257, &c. The vaunting of his Family in this Book, together with his Sarcaſms and contemptuous Railleries on his dead Enemies, ſavour of the ſame Turn of Mind. And it ſeems there was among the Ancients a Tradi⯑tion of Idomeneus which ſtrengthens this Conjecture of his Pride: For we find in the Heroicks of Philoſtratus, that be⯑fore he would come to the Trojan War, he demanded a Share in the ſovereign Command with Agamemnon himſelf.

I muſt, upon this occaſion, make an Obſervation once for all, which will be applicable to many Paſſages in Homer, and afford a Solution of many Difficulties. It is that our Author drew ſeveral of his Characters with an Eye to the Hiſtories then known of famous Perſons, or the Traditions that paſt in thoſe Times. One cannot believe otherwiſe of a Poet, who appears ſo nicely exact in obſerving all the Cuſtoms of the Age he deſcribed; nor can we imagine the infinite Num⯑ber of minute Circumſtances relating to particular Perſons, which we meet with every where in his Poem, could poſſibly have been invented purely as Ornaments to it. This Refle⯑ction will account for a hundred ſeeming Oddneſſes not only in the Characters, but in the Speeches of the Iliad: For as no Author is more true than Homer to the Character of the Perſon he introduces ſpeaking, ſo no one more often ſuits his [67] Oratory to the Character of the Perſon ſpoken to. Many of theſe Beauties muſt needs be loſt to us, yet this Suppoſition will give a new Light to ſeveral Particulars. For inſtance, the Speech I have been mentioning of Agamemnon to Ido⯑meneus in the 4th Book, wherein he puts this Hero in mind of the magnificent Entertainments he had given him, be⯑comes in this View much leſs odd and ſurprizing. Or who can tell but it had ſome Alluſion to the Manners of the Cre⯑tans whom he commanded, whoſe Character was ſo well known, as to become a Proverb: The Cretans, evil Beaſts, and ſlow Bellies.

XX.

‘VERSE 283. The Surgeons of the Camp.]’ Podalirius and Machaon were not the only Phyſicians in the Army; it ap⯑pears from ſome Paſſages in this Poem, that each Body of Troops had one peculiar to themſelves. It may not be im⯑proper to advertiſe, that the ancient Phyſicians were all Sur⯑geons. Euſtathius.

XXI.

‘VERSE 325.—Meriones attends, Whom thus he queſtions—]’ This Converſation between Idomeneus and Meriones is gene⯑rally cenſured as highly improper and out of Place, and as ſuch is given up even by M. Dacier, the moſt zealons of our Poet's Defenders. However, if we look cloſely into the Oc⯑caſion and Drift of this Diſcourſe, the Accuſation will I be⯑lieve, appear not ſo well grounded. Two Perſons of Diſtin⯑ction, juſt when the Enemy is put to a ſtop by the Ajaces, meet behind the Army: Having each on important occaſions retired out of the Fight, the one to help a wounded Soldier, the other to ſeek a new Weapon. Idomeneus, who is ſuperior in Years as well as Authority, returning to the Battel, is ſur⯑prized to meet Meriones out of it, who was one of his own Officers, ( [...], as Homer here calls him) and being jea⯑lous of his Soldier's Honour, demands the Cauſe of his quit⯑ting the Fight? Meriones having told him it was the want [68] of a Spear, he yet ſeems unſatisfy'd with the Excuſe; adding, that he himſelf did not approve of that diſtant manner of fighting with a Spear: Meriones being touch'd to the quick with this Reproach, replies, that He of all the Greeks had the leaſt reaſon to ſuſpect his Courage: Whereupon Idome⯑neus perceiving him highly piqued, aſſures him he entertains no ſuch hard Thoughts of him, ſince he had often known his Courage prov'd on ſuch Occaſions, where the Danger be⯑ing greater, and the Number ſmaller, it was impoſſible for a Coward to conceal his natural Infirmity: But now recolle⯑cting that a malicious Mind might give a ſiniſter Interpreta⯑tion to their Inactivity during this Diſcourſe, he immedi⯑ately breaks it off upon that Reflection. As therefore this Converſation has its Riſe from a Jealouſy in the moſt ten⯑der Point of Honour, I think the Poet cannot juſtly be blamed for ſuffering a Diſcourſe ſo full of warm Sentiments to run on for about forty Verſes; which after all cannot be ſuppos'd to take up more than two or three Minutes from Action.

XXII.

‘VERSE 335. This headleſs Lance, &c.]’ We have often ſeen ſeveral of Homer's Combatants loſe and break their Spears, yet they do not therefore retire from the Battel to ſeek other Weapons, why therefore does Homer here ſend Meriones on this Errand? It may be ſaid, that in the kind of Fight which the Greeks now maintain'd drawn up into the Phalanx, Me⯑riones was uſeleſs without this Weapon.

XXIII.

‘VERSE 339. Spears I have ſtore, &c.]’ Idomeneus deſcribes his Tent as a Magazine, ſtored with Variety of Arms won from the Enemy, which were not only laid up as uſeleſs Tro⯑phies of his Victories, but kept there in order to ſupply his own, and his Friends Occaſions. And this Conſideration ſhews us one reaſon why theſe Warriors contended with ſuch Eagerneſs to carry off the Arms of a vanquiſh'd Enemy.

[69] This gives me an occaſion to animadvert upon a falſe Remark of Euſtathius, which is inſerted in the 30th Note on the 11th Book, ‘"that Homer, to ſhew us nothing is ſo unſeaſonable in a Battel as to ſtay to deſpoil the ſlain, feigns that moſt of the Warriors who do it, are kill'd, wounded, or unſuc⯑ceſsful."’ I am aſtoniſh'd how ſo great a Miſtake ſhould fall from any Man who had read Homer, much more from one who had read him ſo thoroughly, and even ſuperſtiti⯑ouſly, as the old Archbiſhop of Theſſalonica. There is ſcarce a Book in Homer that does not abound with Inſtances to the contrary, where the Conquerors ſtrip their Ene⯑mies, and bear off their Spoils in Triumph. It was (as I have already ſaid in the Eſſay on Homer's Battels) as honou⯑rable an Exploit in thoſe Days to carry off the Arms, as it is now to gain a Standard. But it is a ſtrange Conſequence, that becauſe our Author ſometimes repreſents a Man unſuc⯑ceſsful in a glorious Attempt, he therefore diſcommends the Attempt itſelf; and is as good an Argument againſt encoun⯑tring an Enemy living, as againſt ſpoiling him dead. One ought not to confound this with Plundering, between which Homer has ſo well mark'd the Diſtinction; when he con⯑ſtantly ſpeaks of the Spoils as glorious, but makes Neſtor in the 6th Book, and Hector in the 15th directly forbid the Pil⯑lage, as a Practice that has often prov'd fatal in the midſt of a Victory, and ſometimes even after it.

XXIV.

‘VERSE 353. To him Idomeneus.]’ There is a great deal more Dialogue in Homer than in Virgil. The Roman Poet's are generally ſet Speeches, thoſe of the Greek more in Con⯑verſation. What Virgil does by two Words of a Narrati⯑on, Homer brings about by a Speech; he hardly raiſes one of his Heroes out of Bed without ſome Talk concerning it. There are not only Replies, but Rejoinders in Homer, a thing ſcarce ever to be found in Virgil; the Conſequence whereof is, that there muſt be in the Iliad many continued Con⯑verſations (ſuch as this of our two Heroes) a little reſembling common Chit-chat. This renders the Poem more natural and [70] animated, but leſs grave and majeſtick. However, that ſuch was the way of writing generally practis'd in thoſe ancient Times, appears from the like manner uſed in moſt of the Books of the Old Teſtament; and it particularly agreed with our Author's warm Imagination, which delighted in perpe⯑tual Imagery, and in painting every Circumſtance of what he deſcribed.

XXV.

‘VERSE 355. In that ſharp Service, &c.]’ In a general Battel Cowardiſe may be the more eaſily conceal'd, by rea⯑ſon of the Number of the Combatants; but in an Ambuſ⯑cade, where the Soldiers are few, each muſt be diſcover'd to be what he is; this is the reaſon why the Ancients enter⯑tain'd ſo great an Idea of this ſort of War; the braveſt Men were always choſen to ſerve upon ſuch Occaſions. Eu⯑ſtathius.

XXVI.

‘VERSE 384. So Mars Armipotent, &c.]’ Homer va⯑ries his Similitudes with all imaginable Art, ſometimes deri⯑ving them from the Properties of Animals, ſometimes from natural Paſſions, ſometimes from the Occurrences of Life, and ſometimes (as in the Simile before us) from Hiſtory. The Invention of Mars's Paſſage from Thrace (which was feign'd to be the Country of that God) to the Phlegyans and Ephyrians, is a very beautiful and poetical manner of cele⯑brating the martial Genius of that People, who liv'd in per⯑petual Wars.

Methinks there is ſomething of a fine Enthuſiaſm, in Ho⯑mer's manner of fetching a Compaſs, as it were, to draw in new Images beſides thoſe in which the direct Point of Like⯑neſs conſiſts. Milton perfectly well underſtood the Beauty of theſe digreſſive Images, as we may ſee from the following Simile, which is in a manner made up of them.

As for the general Purport of this Compariſon of Homer, it gives us a noble and majeſtick Idea, at once of Idomeneus and Meriones, repreſented by Mars and his Son Terror; in which each of theſe Heroes is greatly elevated, yet the juſt Diſtin⯑ction between them preſerved. The beautiful Simile of Virgil in his 12th Aeneid is drawn with an Eye to this of our Author.

XXVII.

The common Interpreters have to this Queſtion of Meriones given a meaning which is highly impertinent, if not down⯑right Nonſenſe; explaining it thus. Shall we fight on the right, or in the middle, or on the left, for no where elſe doe the Greeks ſo much want Aſſiſtance; which amounts to this; [72] Shall we engage where our Aſſiſtance is moſt wanted, or where it is not wanted? The Context, as well as the Words of the Original, oblige us to underſtand it in this obvious meaning; Shall we bring our Aſſiſtance to the right, to the left, or to the Centre? Since the Greeks being equally preſs'd and engag'd on all ſides, equally need our Aid in all Parts.

XXVIII.

‘VERSE 400. Not in the Centre, &c.]’ There is in this Anſwer of Idomeneus a ſmall Circumſtance which is overlook'd by the Commentators, but in which the whole Spirit and Reaſon of what is ſaid by him conſiſts. He ſays he is in no fear for the Centre, ſince it is defended by Teucer and Ajax: Teucer being not only moſt famous for the Uſe of the Bow, but likewiſe excellent [...], in a cloſe ſtanding Fight: And as for Ajax, tho' not ſo ſwift of Foot as Achilles, yet he was equal to him [...], in the ſame ſtedfaſt manner of fight⯑ing; hereby plainly intimating that he was ſecure for the Centre, becauſe that Poſt was defended by two Perſons both accompliſh'd in that Part of War, which was moſt neceſſary for the Service they were then engaged in; the two Expreſ⯑ſions before mention'd peculiarly ſignifying a firm and ſteady way of fighting, moſt uſeful in maintaining a Poſt.

XXIX.

‘VERSE 451. In War and Diſcord's Adamantine Chain.]’ This ſhort but comprehenſive Allegory is very proper to give us an Idea of the preſent Condition of the two contending Armies, who being both powerfully ſuſtain'd by the Aſſiſtance of ſuperior Deities, join and mix together in a cloſe and bloody Engagement, without any remarkable Advantage on either ſide. To image to us this State of Things, the Poet repreſents Jupiter and Neptune holding the two Armies cloſe bound by a mighty Chain, which he calls the Knot of Con⯑tention and War, and of which the two Gods draw the Ex⯑tremities, [73] whereby the enclos'd Armies are compell'd toge⯑ther, without any Poſſibility on either ſide to ſeparate or to conquer; there is not perhaps in Homer any Image at once ſo exact and ſo bold. Madam Dacier acknowledges, that deſpairing to make this Paſſage ſhine in her Language, ſhe purpoſely omitted it in her Tranſlation: But from what ſhe ſays in her Annotations, it ſeems that ſhe did not rightly apprehend the Propriety and Beauty of it. Hobbes too was not very ſenſible of it, when he tranſlated it ſo oddly.

XXX.

VERSE 451.] It will be neceſſary, for the better under⯑ſtanding the Conduct of Homer in every Battel he deſcribes, to reflect on the particular kind of Fight, and the Circum⯑ſtances that diſtinguiſh each. In this View therefore we ought to remember thro' this whole Book, that the Battel deſcrib'd in it, is a fix'd cloſe Fight, wherein the Armies engage in a groſs compact Body, without any of thoſe Skirmiſhes or Feats of Activity ſo often mention'd in the foregoing Engagements. We ſee at the beginning of it the Grecians form a Phalanx, ℣. 126. which continues unbroken at the very end, ℣. 806. The chief Weapon made uſe of is a Spear, being moſt proper for this manner of Combat; nor do we ſee any other uſe of a Chariot, but to carry off the dead or wounded (as in the In⯑ſtance of Harpalion and Deiphobus.)

From hence we may obſerve, with what Judgment and Propriety Homer introduces Idomeneus as the chief in Action on this occaſion: For this Hero being declined from his Prime, and ſomewhat ſtiff with Years, was only fit for this kind of Engagement, as Homer expreſſly ſays in the 512th Verſe of the preſent Book.

XXXI.

It ſeems (ſays Euſtathius on this Place) that the Iliad being an heroick Poem, is of too ſerious a Nature to admit of Rail⯑lery: Yet Homer has found the ſecret of joining two things that are in a manner incompatible. For this Piece of Rail⯑lery is ſo far from raiſing Laughter, that it becomes a Hero, and is capable to enflame the Courage of all who hear it. It alſo elevates the Character of Idomeneus, who notwithſtand⯑ing he is in the midſt of imminent Dangers, preſerves his uſual Gaiety of Temper, which is the greateſt Evidence of an uncommon Courage. Id. p. 935.

I confeſs I am of an Opinion very different from this of Euſtathius, which is alſo adopted by M. Dacier. So ſevere and bloody an Irony to a dying Perſon is a fault in Morals, if not in Poetry itſelf. It ſhould not have place at all, or if it ſhould, is ill placed here. Idomeneus is repreſented a brave Man, nay a Man of a compaſſionate Nature, in the Circum⯑ſtance he was introduc'd in, of aſſiſting a wounded Soldier. What Provocation could ſuch an one have, to inſult ſo bar⯑barouſly an unfortunate Prince, being neither his Rival nor particular Enemy? True Courage is inſeparable from Huma⯑nity, and all generous Warriors regret the very Victories they gain, when they reflect what a Price of Blood they coſt. I know it may be anſwer'd, that theſe were not the Manners of Homer's Time, a Spirit of Violence and Devaſtation then reigned, even among the choſen People of God, as may be ſeen from the Actions of Joſhua, &c. However, if one would forgive the Cruelty, one cannot forgive the Gaiety on ſuch an occaſion. Theſe inhuman Jeſts the Poet was ſo far from being oblig'd to make, that he was on the contrary forced to break through the general ſerious Air of his Poem [75] to introduce them. Would it not raiſe a Suſpicion, that (whatever we ſee of his ſuperior Genius in other reſpects) his own Views of Morality were not elevated above the Barbarity of his Age? I think indeed the thing by far the moſt ſhock⯑ing in this Author, is that Spirit of Cruelty which appears too manifeſtly in the Iliad.

Virgil was too judicious to imitate Homer in theſe Licences, and is much more reſerv'd in his Sarcaſms and Inſults. There are not above four or five in the whole Aeneid. That of Pyrrhus to Priam in the ſecond Book, tho' barbarous in itſelf, may be accounted for as intended to raiſe a Character of Horror, and render the Action of Pyrrhus odious; whereas Homer ſtains his moſt Favourite Characters with theſe Barbarities. That of Aſcanius over Numanus in the ninth, was a fair Opportu⯑nity where Virgil might have indulg'd the Humour of a cruel Raillery, and have been excus'd by the Youth and Gaiety of the Speaker; yet it is no more than a very moderate Anſwer to the Inſolences with which he had juſt been provok'd by his Enemy, only retorting two of his own Words upon him.

He never ſuffers his Aeneas to fall into this Practice, but while he is on fire with Indignation after the Death of his Friend Pallas: That ſhort one to Mezentius is the leaſt that could be ſaid to ſuch a Tyrant.

The worſt-natur'd one I remember (which yet is more excu⯑ſable than Homer's) is that of Turnus to Eumedes in the 12th Book.

XXXII.

‘VERSE 474. And ſuch the Contract of the Phrygian King, &c.]’ It was but natural to raiſe a Queſtion, on occaſion of theſe and other Paſſages in Homer, how it comes to paſs that the Heroes of different Nations are ſo well acquainted with the Stories and Circumſtances of each other? Euſtathius's Soluti⯑on is no ill one, that the Warriors on both ſides might learn the Story of their Enemies from the Captives they took, du⯑ring the Courſe of ſo long a War.

XXXIII.

‘VERSE 513. The Cretan ſaw, and ſtooping, &c.]’ Nothing could paint in a more lively manner this whole Action, and every Circumſtance of it, than the following Lines. There is the Poſture of Idomeneus upon ſeeing the Lance flying to⯑ward him; the lifting the Shield obliquely to turn it aſide; the Arm diſcover'd in that Poſition; the Form, Compoſition, Materials, and Ornaments of the Shield diſtinctly ſpecify'd; the Flight of the Dart over it, the Sound of it firſt as it flew, then as it fell; and the Decay of that Sound on the Edge of the Buckler, which being thinner than the other Parts ra⯑ther tinkled than rung, eſpecially when the firſt Force of the Stroke was ſpent on the Orb of it. All this in the Com⯑paſs of ſo few Lines, in which every word is an Image, is ſomething more beautifully particular, than I remember to have met with in any Poet.

XXXIV.

‘VERSE 543. He, once of Ilion's Youth the lovelieſt Boy.]’ Some Manuſcripts, after theſe Words [...], in⯑ſert the three following Verſes,

[77] which I have not tranſlated, as not thinking them genuine. Mr. Barnes is of the ſame Opinion.

XXXV.

We cannot read Homer without obſerving a wonderful Va⯑riety in the Wounds and Manner of dying. Some of theſe Wounds are painted with very ſingular Circumſtances, and thoſe of uncommon Art and Beauty. This Paſſage is a Ma⯑ſterpiece in that way; Alcathous is pierced into the Heart, which throbs with ſo ſtrong a Pulſe, that the Motion is communicated even to the diſtant End of the Spear, which is vi⯑brated thereby. This Circumſtance might appear too bold, and the Effect beyond Nature, were we not inform'd by the moſt skilful Anatomiſts of the wonderful Force of this Muſcle, which ſome of them have computed to be equal to the Weight of ſeveral thouſand Pounds. Lower de Corde. Borellus.

XXXVI.

‘VERSE 578. Incens'd at partial Priam, &c.]’ Homer here gives the reaſon why Aeneas did not fight in the foremoſt Ranks. It was againſt his Inclination that he ſerv'd Priam, and he was rather engag'd by Honour and Reputation to aſ⯑ſiſt his Country, than by any Diſpoſition to aid that Prince. This Paſſage is purely hiſtorical, and the Ancients have pre⯑ſerv'd to us a Tradition which ſerves to explain it. They ſay, that Aeneas became ſuſpected by Priam, on account of an Oracle which propheſied he ſhould in Proceſs of Time rule over the Trojans. The King therefore ſhew'd him no great Degree of Eſteem or Conſideration, with Deſign to diſ⯑credit, and render him deſpicable to the People. Euſtathius. This Envy of Priam, and this Report of the Oracle, are men⯑tion'd by Achilles to Aeneas in the 20th Book, ℣. 179.

And Neptune in the 306th Verſe of the ſame Book,

I ſhall conclude this Note with the Character of Aeneas, as it is drawn by Philoſtratus, wherein he makes mention of the ſame Tradition. ‘"Aeneas (ſays this Author) was inferior to Hector in Battel only, in all elſe equal, and in Prudence ſuperior. He was likewiſe skilful in whatever related to the Gods, and conſcious of what Deſtiny had reſerv'd for him after the taking of Troy. Incapable of Fear, never diſcompos'd, and particularly poſſeſſing himſelf in the Ar⯑ticle of Danger. Hector is reported to have been call'd the Hand, and Aeneas the Head of the Trojans; and the latter more advantag'd their Affairs by his Caution, than the former by his Fury. Theſe two Heroes were much of the ſame Age, and the ſame Stature: The Air of Aeneas had ſomething in it leſs bold and forward, but at the ſame time more fix'd and conſtant.’ Philoſtrat. Heroic.

XXXVII.

‘VERSE 621. Like Ida's Flocks, &c.]’ Homer, whether he treats of the Cuſtoms of Men or Beaſts, is always a faithful Interpreter of Nature. When Sheep leave the Paſture and drink freely, it is a certain Sign, that they have found good Paſturage, and that they are all ſound; 'tis therefore upon this Account, that Homer ſays the Shepherd rejoices. Ho⯑mer, we find, well underſtood what Ariſtotle many Ages after him remark'd, viz. that Sheep grow fat by drinking. This therefore is the reaſon, why Shepherds are accuſtom'd to give their Flocks a certain Quantity of Salt every five Days [79] in the Summer, that they may by this means drink the more abundantly. Euſtathius.

XXXVIII.

‘VERSE 655. And, fir'd with Hate.]’ Homer does not tell us the occaſion of this Hatred; but ſince his Days, Simo⯑nides and Ibycus write, that Idomeneus and Deiphobus were Ri⯑vals, and both in love with Helen. This very well agrees with the ancient Tradition which Eurypides and Virgil have follow'd: For after the Death of Paris, they tell us ſhe was eſpous'd to Deiphobus. Euſtathius.

XXXIX.

‘VERSE 721. Bending he fell, and doubled to the Ground, Lay panting.—]’ The Original is,

The Verſification repreſents the ſhort broken Pantings of the dying Warrior, in the ſhort ſudden Break at the ſecond Syl⯑lable of the ſecond Line. And this beauty is, as it happens, preciſely copied in the Engliſh. It is not often that a Tranſ⯑lator can do this Juſtice to Homer, but he muſt be content to imitate theſe Graces and Proprieties at more diſtance, by endeavouring at ſomething parallel, tho' not the ſame.

XL.

‘VERSE 728. King Helenus.]’ The Appellation of King was not anciently confin'd to thoſe only who bore the ſovereign Dignity, but apply'd alſo to others. There was in the Iſland of Cyprus a whole Order of Officers call'd Kings, whoſe Bu⯑ſineſs it was to receive the Relations of Informers, concern⯑ing all that happen'd in the Iſland, and to regulate Affairs accordingly. Euſtathius.

XLI.

‘VERSE 739. As on ſome ample Barn's well-harden'd Floor.]’ We ought not to be ſhock'd at the Frequency of theſe Simi⯑les taken from the Ideas of a rural Life. In early Times, before Politeneſs had rais'd the Eſteem of Arts ſubſervient to Luxury, above thoſe neceſſary to the Subſiſtence of Mankind, Agriculture was the Employment of Perſons of the greateſt Eſteem and Diſtinction: We ſee in ſacred Hiſtory Princes bu⯑ſy at Sheep-ſhearing; and in the middle Times of the Ro⯑man Common-wealth, a Dictator taken from the Plough. Wherefore it ought not to be wonder'd that Alluſions and Compariſons of this kind are frequently uſed by ancient he⯑roick Writers, as well to raiſe, as illuſtrate their Deſcriptions. But ſince theſe Arts are fallen from their ancient Dignity, and become the Drudgery of the loweſt People, the Images of them are likewiſe ſunk into Meanneſs, and without this Conſideration, muſt appear to common Readers unworthy to have place in Epic Poems. It was perhaps thro' too much Deference to ſuch Taſtes, that Chapman omitted this Simile in his Tranſlation.

XLII.

The Words of the Original are theſe,

This Paſſage, by the Commentators ancient and modern, ſeems rightly underſtood in the Senſe expreſs'd in this Tranſ⯑lation: The word [...] properly ſignifying a Sling; which (as Euſtathius obſerves from an old Scholiaſt) was anciently made of woollen Strings. Chapman alone diſſents from the common Interpretation, boldly pronouncing that Slings are no where mention'd in the Iliad, without giving any reaſon [81] for his Opinion. He therefore tranſlates the word [...], a Skarffe, by no other Authority but that he ſays, it was a fitter thing to hang a wounded Arm in, than a Sling; and very prettily wheedles his Reader into this Opinion by a moſt gal⯑lant Imagination, that his Squire might carry this Skarffe about him as a Favour of his own or of his Maſter's Miſtreſs. But for the uſe he has found for this Skarffe, there is not any Pretence from the Original; where it is only ſaid the Wound was bound up, without any mention of hanging the Arm. After all, he is hard put to it in his Tranſlation; for being reſolv'd to have a Scarf, and oblig'd to mention Wool, we are left entirely at a loſs to know from whence he got the latter.

A like Paſſage recurs near the end of this Book, where the Poet ſays the Locrians went to War without Shield or Spear, only armed,

Which laſt Expreſſion, as all the Commentators agree, ſig⯑nifies a Sling, tho' the word [...] is not uſed. Chapman here likewiſe, without any Colour of Authority, diſſents from the common Opinion; but very inconſtant in his Errors, va⯑ries his Miſtake, and aſſures us, this Expreſſion is the true Pe⯑riphraſis of a light kind of Armour, call'd a Jack, by which all our Archers uſed to ſerve in of old, and which were ever quilted with Wool.

XLIII.

‘VERSE 766. The cover'd Pole-Axe.]’ Homer never aſcribes this Weapon to any but the Barbarians, for the Battel-Axe was not uſed in War by the politer Nations. It was the fa⯑vourite Weapon of the Amazons. Euſtathius.

XLIV.

‘VERSE 779. The Speech of Menelaus.]’ This Speech of Menelaus over his dying Enemy, is very different from thoſe [82] with which Homer frequently makes his Heroes inſult the vanquiſh'd, and anſwers very well the Character of this good⯑natur'd Prince. Here are no inſulting Taunts, no cruel Sar⯑caſms, nor any ſporting with the particular Misfortunes of the dead: The Invectives he makes are general, ariſing na⯑turally from a Remembrance of his Wrongs, and being al⯑moſt nothing elſe but a Recapitulation of them. Theſe Re⯑proaches come moſt juſtly from this Prince, as being the only Perſon among the Greeks who had receiv'd any perſo⯑nal Injury from the Trojans. The Apoſtrophe he makes to Jupiter, wherein he complains of his protecting a wicked People, has given occaſion to cenſure Homer as guilty of Im⯑piety, in making his Heroes tax the Gods with Injuſtice: But ſince, in the former Part of this Speech, it is expreſly ſaid, that Jupiter will certainly puniſh the Trojans by the Deſtructi⯑on of their City for violating the Laws of Hoſpitality, the latter Part ought only to be conſider'd as a Complaint to Ju⯑piter for delaying that Vengeance: This Reflection being no more than what a pious ſuffering Mind, griev'd at the flou⯑riſhing Condition of proſperous Wickedneſs, might naturally fall into. Not unlike this is the Complaint of the Prophet Jeremiah, Ch. 12. ℣. 1. Righteous art thou, O Lord, when I plead with thee: yet let me talk with thee of thy Judgments. Wherefore doth the way of the wicked proſper? Wherefore are all they happy that deal very treacherouſly?

Nothing can more fully repreſent the Cruelty and Injuſtice of the Trojans, than the Obſervation with which Menelaus finiſhes their Character, by ſaying, that they have a more ſtrong, conſtant, and inſatiable Appetite after Blood-ſhed and Rapine, than others have to ſatisfy the moſt agreeable Plea⯑ſures and natural Deſires.

XLV.

‘VERSE 795. The beſt of things beyond their Meaſure cloy.]’ Theſe Words comprehend a very natural Sentiment, which perfectly ſhews the wonderful Folly of Men: They are ſoon weary'd with the moſt agreeable things, when they are in⯑nocent, [83] but never with the moſt toilſome things in the World, when injuſt and criminal. Euſtathius. Dacier.

XLVI.

‘VERSE 797. The Dance.]’ In the Original it is call'd [...], the blameleſs Dance; to diſtinguiſh (ſays Euſtathius) what ſort of Dancing it is that Homer commends. For there were two kinds of Dancing practis'd among the Ancients, the one reputable, invented by Minerva, or by Caſtor and Pol⯑lux; the other diſhoneſt, of which Pan, or Bacchus, was the Author. They were diſtinguiſh'd by the Name of the Tra⯑gic, and the Comic or Satyric Dance. But thoſe which pro⯑bably our Author commends were certain military Dances us'd by the greateſt Heroes. One of this ſort was known to the Macedonians and Perſians, practis'd by Antiochus the Great, and the famous Polyperchon. There was another which was danc'd in compleat Armour, call'd the Pyrrhick, from Pyrrhicus the Spartan its Inventor, which continu'd in faſhion among the Lacedaemonians. Scaliger the Father re⯑marks, that this Dance was too laborious to remain long in uſe even among the Ancients; however it ſeems that Labour could not diſcourage this bold Critick from reviving that lau⯑dable kind of Dance in the Preſence of the Emperor Maxi⯑milian and his whole Court. It is not to be doubted but the Performance rais'd their Admiration; nor much to be won⯑der'd at, if they deſir'd to ſee more than once ſo extraordi⯑nary a Spectacle, as we have it in his own Words. Poëtices, lib. 1. cap. 18. Hanc ſaltationem [Pyrrhicam] nos & ſaepe, & diu, coram Divo Maximiliano, juſſu Boniſacii patrui, non ſine ſtupore totius Germaniae, repraeſentavimus.

XLVII.

‘VERSE 819. Like ſome vile Worm extended on the Ground.]’ I cannot be of Euſtathius's Opinion, that this Simile was de⯑ſign'd to debaſe the Character of Harpalion, and to repreſent him in a mean and diſgraceful View, as one who had nothing noble in him. I rather think from the Character he gives [84] of this young Man, whoſe Piety carry'd him to the Wars to attend his Father, and from the Air of this whole Paſſage, which is tender and pathetick, that he intended this humble Compariſon only as a mortifying Picture of human Miſery and Mortality. As to the Verſes which Euſtathius alledges for a Proof of the Cowardice of Harpalion,

The Retreat deſcribed in the firſt Verſe is common to the greateſt Heroes in Homer; the ſame Words are apply'd to Deiphobus and Meriones in this Book, and to Patroclus in the 16th, ℣. 817. The ſame thing in other Words is ſaid even of the great Ajax, Il. 15. ℣. 728. And we have Ulyſſes de⯑ſcrib'd in the 4th, ℣. 497. with the ſame Circumſpection and Fear of the Darts: tho' none of thoſe Warriors have the ſame reaſon as Harpalion for their Retreat or Caution, he alone being unarm'd, which Circumſtance takes away all Im⯑putation of Cowardice.

XLVIII.

‘VERSE 823. The penſive Father.]’ We have ſeen in the 5th Iliad the Death of Pylaemenes General of the Paphlago⯑nians: How comes he then in this Place to be introduced as following the Funeral of his Son? Euſtathius informs us of a moſt ridiculous Solution of ſome Criticks, who thought it might be the Ghoſt of this unhappy Father, who not being yet interr'd, according to the Opinion of the Ancients, wan⯑der'd upon the Earth. Zenodotus not ſatisfy'd with this, (as indeed he had little reaſon to be) chang'd the Name of Py⯑laemenes into Kylaemenes. Didymus thinks there were two of the ſame Name; as there are in Homer two Schedius's. two Eurymedon's, and three Adraſtus's. And others correct the Verſe by adding a Negative, [...]; his Fa⯑ther did not follow his Chariot with his Face bath'd in Tears. Which laſt, if not of more Weight than the reſt, is yet more ingenious. Euſtathius. Dacier.

XLIX.

‘VERSE 840. And choſe the certain, glorious Path to Death.]’ Thus we ſee Euchenor is like Achilles, who ſail'd to Troy, tho' he knew he ſhould fall before it: This might ſomewhat have prejudic'd the Character of Achilles, every Branch of which ought to be ſingle, and ſuperior to all others, as he ought to be without a Rival in every thing that ſpeaks a Hero: Therefore we find two eſſential Differences between Euchenor and Achilles, which preſerve the Superiority of the Hero of the Poem. Achilles, if he had not ſail'd to Troy, had enjoy'd a long Life; but Euchenor had been ſoon cut off by ſome cruel Diſeaſe. Achilles being independent, and as a King, could have liv'd at eaſe at home, without being obnoxious to any Diſgrace; but Euchenor being but a private Man, muſt either have gone to the War, or been expos'd to an ignomi⯑nious Penalty. Euſtathius. Dacier.

L.

‘VERSE 845. Nor knew great Hector, &c.]’ Moſt part of this Book being employ'd to deſcribe the brave Reſiſtance the Greeks made on their left under Idomeneus and Meriones; the Poet now ſhifts the Scene, and returns to Hector, whom he left in the Centre of the Army, after he had paſs'd the Wall, endeavouring in vain to break the Phalanx where Ajax com⯑manded. And that the Reader might take notice of this Change of Place, and carry diſtinctly in his Mind each Scene of Action, Homer is very careful in the following Lines to let us know that Hector ſtill continues in the Place where he had firſt paſs'd the Wall, at that part of it which was loweſt, (as appears from Sarpedon's having pull'd down one of its Battlements on foot, lib. 12.) and which was neareſt [86] the Station where the Ships of Ajax were lay'd, becauſe that Hero was probably thought a ſufficient Guard for that Part. As the Poet is ſo very exact in deſcribing each Scene as in a Chart or Plan, the Reader ought to be careful to trace each Action in it; otherwiſe he will ſee nothing but Confuſion in things which are in themſelves very regular and diſtinct. This Obſervation is the more neceſſary, becauſe even in this Place, where the Poet intended to prevent any ſuch Miſtake, Da⯑cier and other Interpreters have apply'd to the preſent Acti⯑on what is only a Recapitulation of the Time and Place deſcrib'd in the former Book.

LI.

‘VERSE 858. Pthians.]’ Theſe Pthians are not the Troops of Achilles, for thoſe were call'd Pthiotes; but they were the Troops of Proteſilaus and Philoctetes. Euſtathius.

LII.

‘VERSE 875. So when two lordly Bulls, &c.]’ The Image here given of the Ajaces is very lively and exact; there be⯑ing no Circumſtance of their preſent Condition that is not to be found in the Compariſon, and no Particular in the Compariſon that does not reſemble the Action of the Heroes. Their Strength and Labour, their Unanimity and Nearneſs to each other, the Difficulties they ſtruggle againſt, and the Sweat occaſion'd by this Struggling, perfectly correſponding with the Simile.

LIII.

There never was a nobler Encomium than this of Achilles. It ſeems enough to ſo wiſe a Counſellor as Polydamas, to convince ſo intrepid a Warrior as Hector, in how great Dan⯑ger the Trojans ſtood, to ſay, Achilles ſees us. ‘"Tho' he ab⯑ſtains from the Fight, he ſtill caſts his Eye on the Battel; it [87] is true, we are a brave Army, and yet keep our Ground, but ſtill Achilles ſees us, and we are not ſafe."’ This Reflection makes him a God, a ſingle Regard of whom can turn the Fate of Armies, and determine the Deſtiny of a whole Peo⯑ple. And how nobly is this Thought extended in the Pro⯑greſs of the Poem, where we ſhall ſee in the 16th Book the Trojans fly at the firſt Sight of his Armour, worn by Patro⯑clus; and in the 18th their Defeat compleated by his ſole Ap⯑pearance, unarm'd, on his Ship.

LIV.

‘VERSE 939. Hector, with a bound, Leapt from his Chariot.]’ Hector having in the laſt Book alighted, and cauſed the Tro⯑jans to leave their Chariots behind them, when they paſs'd the Trench, and no mention of any Chariot but that of Aſius ſince occurring in the Battel; we muſt neceſſarily infer, either that Homer has neglected to mention the Advance of the Chariots, (a Circumſtance which ſhould not have been omitted) or elſe that he is guilty here of a great Miſtake in making Hector leap from his Chariot. I think it evident, that this is really a Slip of the Poet's Memory: For in this very Book, ℣. 533. we ſee Polites leads off his wounded Bro⯑ther to the Place where his Chariot remain'd behind the Ar⯑my. And again in the next Book, Hector being wounded, is carried out of the Battel in his Soldier's Arms to the Place where his Horſes and Chariot waited at a diſtance from the Battel,

But what puts it beyond Diſpute, that the Chariots continued all this time in the Place where they firſt quitted them, is a Paſſage in the beginning of the fifteenth Book, where the Trojans being overpower'd by the Greeks, fly back over the Wall and [88] Trench till they came to the Place where their Cha⯑riots ſtood,

Neither Euſtathius nor Dacier have taken any notice of this Incongruity, which would tempt one to believe they were willing to overlook what they could not excuſe. I muſt ho⯑neſtly own my Opinion, that there are ſeveral other Neg⯑ligences of this kind in Homer. I cannot think other⯑wiſe of the Paſſage in the preſent Book concerning Py⯑laemenes; notwithſtanding the Excuſes of the Commenta⯑tors which are there given. The very uſing the ſame Name in different Places for different Perſons, confounds the Reader in the Story, and is what certainly would be bet⯑ter avoided: So that 'tis to no purpoſe to ſay, there might as well be two Pylaemenes's as two Schedius's, two Eurymedons, two Opheleſtes's, &c. ſince it is more blameable to be negli⯑gent in many Inſtances than in one. Virgil is not free from this, as Macrobius has obſerv'd. Sat. l. 5. c. 15. But the abovemention'd Names are Proofs of that Critick's being great⯑ly miſtaken in affirming that Homer is not guilty of the ſame. It is one of thoſe many Errors he was led into, by his Partia⯑lity to Homer above Virgil.

LV.

‘VERSE 948. And ſeem'd a moving Mountain topt with Snow.]’ This Simile is very ſhort in the Original, and requires to be open'd a little to diſcover its full Beauty. I am not of Mad. Dacier's Opinion, that the Luſtre of Hector's Armour was that which furniſh'd Homer with this Image; it ſeems rather to allude to the Plume upon his Helmet, in the Action of ſhaking which, this Hero is ſo frequently painted by our Author, and from thence diſtinguiſh'd by the remarkable Epi⯑thet [...]. This is a very pleaſing Image, and very much what the Painters call Pictureſque. I fancy it gave the Hint for a very fine one in Spenſer, where he repreſents the [89] Perſon of Contemplation in the Figure of a venerable old Man almoſt conſum'd with Study.

LVI.

‘VERSE 965. Ill-fated Paris.]’ The Reproaches which He⯑ctor here caſts on Paris, give us the Character of this Hero, who in many things reſembles Achilles; being (like him) in⯑juſt, violent, and impetuous, and making no Diſtinction be⯑tween the innocent and criminal. 'Tis he who is obſtinate in attacking the Entrenchments, yet asks an Account of thoſe who were ſlain in the Attack from Paris; and tho' he ought to blame himſelf for their Deaths, yet he ſpeaks to Paris, as if thro' his Cowardice he had ſuffer'd theſe to be ſlain, whom he might have preſerv'd if he had fought couragiouſly. Eu⯑ſtathius.

LVII.

‘VERSE 1005. Wide-rowling, foaming high, and tumbling to the Shore.]’ I have endeavour'd in this Verſe to imitate the Confuſion, and broken Sound of the Original, which images the Tumult and roaring of many Waters.

LVIII.

‘VERSE 1037. Clouds of rolling Duſt.]’ A Critick might take occaſion from hence, to ſpeak of the exact time of the Year in which the Actions of the Iliad are ſuppos'd to have happen'd. And (according to the grave manner of a learned Diſſertator) begin by informing us, that he has found it muſt be the Summer-Seaſon, from the frequent mention made of Clouds of Duſt: Tho what he diſcovers might be [90] full as well inferr'd from common Senſe, the Summer being the natural Seaſon for a Campaign. However he ſhould quote all thoſe Paſſages at large; and adding to the Article of Duſt as much as he can find of the Sweat of the Heroes, it might fill three Pages very much to his own Satisfaction. It would look well to obſerve farther, that the Fields are deſcrib'd flowery, Il. 2. ℣. 467. that the Branches of a Tamarisk Tree are flouriſhing, Il. 10. ℣. 767. that the Warriors ſome⯑times waſh themſelves in the Sea, Il. 10. ℣. 572. and ſome⯑times refreſh themſelves by cool Breezes from the Sea, Il. 11. ℣. 620. that Diomed ſleeps out of his Tent on the Ground, Il. 10. ℣. 150. that the Flies are very buſy about the dead Body of Patroclus, Il. 19. ℣. 23. that Apollo covers the Bo⯑dy of Hector with a Cloud to prevent its being ſcorch'd, Il. 23. ℣. 190. All this would prove the very thing which was ſaid at firſt, that it was Summer. He might next pro⯑ceed to enquire, what preciſe critical Time of Summer? And here the mention of new-made Honey in Il. 11. ℣. 630. might be of great Service in the Inveſtigation of this impor⯑tant Matter: He would conjecture from hence, that it muſt be near the end of Summer, Honey being ſeldom taken till that time; to which having added the Plague which rages in Book 1. and remark'd, that Infections of that kind generally proceed from the extremeſt Heats, which Heats are not till near the Autumn; the learned Enquirer might hug himſelf in this Diſcovery, and conclude with Triumph.

If any one think this too ridiculous to have been ever put in Practice, he may ſee what Boſſu has done to determine the preciſe Seaſon of the Aeneid, lib. 3. ch. 12. The Memory of that learned Critick fail'd him, when he produc'd as one of the Proofs that it was Autumn, a Paſſage in the 6th Book, where the Fall of the Leaf is only mention'd in a Simile. He has alſo found out a Beauty in Homer, which few even of his greateſt Admirers can believe he intended; which is, that to the Violence and Fury of the Iliad he artfully adapted the Heat of Summer, but to the Odyſſeis the cooler and maturer Seaſon of Autumn, to correſpond with the Sedateneſs and Pru⯑dence of Ulyſſes.

I.

THE Poet, to advance the Character of Neſtor, and give us a due Eſteem for his Conduct and Circum⯑ſpection, repreſents him as deeply ſollicitous for the common Good: In the very Article of Mirth or Relaxation from the Toils of War, he is all Attention to learn the Fate and Iſſue of the Battel: And through his long Uſe and Skill in martial Events, he judges from the Quality of the Uproar ſtill encreaſing, that the Fortune of the Day is held no longer in ſuſpenſe, but inclines to one ſide. Eu⯑ſtathius.

II.

‘VERSE 1. But nor the Genial Feaſt.]’ At the end of the 11th Book we left Neſtor at the Table with Machaon. The Attack of the Entrenchments, deſcrib'd thro' the 12th and 13th Books, happen'd while Neſtor and Machaon ſate at the Table; nor is there any Improbability herein, ſince there is nothing perform'd in thoſe two Books, but what might na⯑turally happen in the Space of two Hours. Homer conſtant⯑ly [128] follows the Thread of his Narration, and never ſuffers his Reader to forget the Train of Action, or the time it employs. Dacier.

III.

‘VERSE 10. Let Hecamede the Bath prepare.]’ The Cu⯑ſtom of Women officiating to Men in the Bath was uſual in ancient Times. Examples are frequent in the Odyſſeis. And it is not at all more odd, or to be ſneer'd at, than the Cu⯑ſtom now us'd in France, of Valets de Chambres dreſſing and undreſſing Ladies.

IV.

‘VERSE 21. As when old Ocean's ſilent Surface ſleeps.]’ There are no where more finiſh'd Pictures of Nature, than thoſe which Homer draws in ſeveral of his Compariſons. The Beauty however of ſome of theſe will be loſt to many, who cannot perceive the Reſemblance, having never had Op⯑portunity to obſerve the things themſelves. The Life of this Deſcription will be moſt ſenſible to thoſe who have been at Sea in a Calm: In this Condition the Water is not entire⯑ly motionleſs, but ſwells gently in ſmooth Waves, which flu⯑ctuate backwards and forwards in a kind of balancing Mo⯑tion: This State continues till a riſing Wind gives a Deter⯑mination to the Waves, and rolls 'em one certain way. There is ſcarce any thing in the whole Compaſs of Nature that can more exactly repreſent the State of an irreſolute Mind, wa⯑vering between two different Deſigns, ſometimes inclining to the one, ſometimes to the other, and then moving to the Point to which its Reſolution is at laſt determin'd. Every Circumſtance of this Compariſon is both beautiful and juſt; and it is the more to be admir'd, becauſe it is very difficult to find ſenſible Images proper to repreſent the Motions of the Mind; wherefore we but rarely meet with ſuch Compariſons even in the beſt Poets. There is one of great Beauty in Vir⯑gil, upon a Subject very like this, where he compares his Hero's Mind, agitated with a great Variety and quick Succeſ⯑ſion [129] of Thoughts, to a dancing Light reflected from a Veſ⯑ſel of Water in Motion.

V.

‘VERSE 30. He fixes on the laſt.]’ Neſtor appears in this Place a great Friend to his Prince; for upon deliberating whether he ſhould go through the Body of the Grecian Hoſt, or elſe repair to Agamemnon's Tent; he determines at laſt, and judges it the beſt way to go to the latter. Now becauſe it had been ill concerted to have made a Man of his Age walk a great way round about in queſt of his Commander, Homer has order'd it ſo that he ſhould meet Agamemnon in his way thither. And nothing could be better imagin'd than the reaſon, why the wounded Princes left their Tents; they were impatient to behold the Battel, anxious for its Succeſs, and deſirous to inſpirit the Soldiers by their Preſence. The Poet was obliged to give a reaſon; for in Epic Poe⯑try, as well as in Dramatic, no Perſon ought to be in⯑troduced without ſome Neceſſity, or at leaſt ſome Probabili⯑ty, for his Appearance. Euſtathius.

VI.

‘VERSE 39. Their Ships at diſtance, &c.]’ Homer being al⯑ways careful to diſtinguiſh each Scene of Action, gives a very particular Deſcription of the Station of the Ships, ſhewing in what manner they lay drawn up on the Land. This he had only hinted at before; but here taking occaſion on the wounded Heroes coming from their Ships, which were at a [130] diſtance from the Fight (while others were engag'd in the Defence of thoſe Ships where the Wall was broke down) he tells us, that the Shore of the Bay (comprehended between the Rhaetean and Sigaean Promontories) was not ſufficient to contain the Ships in one Line; which they were therefore obliged to draw up in Ranks, ranged in parallel Lines along the Shore. How many of theſe Lines there were, the Poet does not determine. M. Dacier, without giving any reaſon for her Opinion, ſays they were but two; one advanced near the Wall, the other on the Verge of the Sea. But it is more than probable, that there were ſeveral intermediate Lines; ſince the Order in which the Veſſels lay is here deſcrib'd by a Metaphor taken from the Steps of a Scaling-Ladder; which had been no way proper to give an Image only of two Ranks, but very fit to repreſent a greater, tho' undetermin'd Num⯑ber. That there were more than two Lines, may likewiſe be inferr'd from what we find in the beginning of the 11th Book; where it is ſaid, that the Voice of Diſcord, ſtanding on the Ship of Ulyſſes, in the middle of the Fleet, was heard as far as the Sta⯑tions of Achilles and Ajax, whoſe Ships were drawn up in the two Extremities: Thoſe of Ajax were neareſt the Wall (as is expreſly ſaid in the 68th Verſe of the 13th Book) and thoſe of Achilles neareſt the Sea, as appears from many Paſſages ſcatter'd thro' the Iliad.

It muſt be ſuppos'd, that thoſe Ships were drawn higheſt upon Land, which firſt approached the Shore; the firſt Line therefore conſiſted of thoſe who firſt diſembark'd, which were the Ships of Ajax and Proteſilaus; the latter of whom ſeems mention'd in the Verſe above cited of the 13th Book, only to give occaſion to obſerve this, for he was ſlain as he landed firſt of the Greeks. And accordingly we ſhall ſee in the 15th Book, it is his Ship that is firſt attack'd by the Trojans, as it lay the neareſt to them.

We may likewiſe gueſs how it happens, that the Ships of Achilles were plac'd neareſt to the Sea; for in the Anſwer of Achilles to Ulyſſes in the 9th Book, ℣. 328. he mentions a Naval Expedition he had made while Agamemnon lay ſafe in the Camp: So that his Ships at their Return did natural⯑ly lie next the Sea; which, without this Conſideration, [131] might appear a Station not ſo becoming this Hero's Courage.

VII.

‘VERSE 47. Neſtor's Approach alarm'd.]’ That ſo labori⯑ous a Perſon as Neſtor has been deſcribed, ſo indefatigable, ſo little indulgent of his extreme Age, and one that never re⯑ceded from the Battel, ſhould approach to meet them; this it was that ſtruck the Princes with Amazement, when they ſaw he had left the Field. Euſtathius.

VIII.

‘VERSE 81. Ceaſe we at length, &c.]’ Agamemnon either does not know what Courſe to take in this Diſtreſs, or only ſounds the Sentiments of his Nobles (as he did in the ſecond Book of the whole Army.) He delivers himſelf firſt after Neſtor's Speech, as it became a Counſeller to do. But knowing this Advice to be diſhonourable, and unſuitable to the Character he aſſumes elſewhere, [...], &c. and conſidering that he ſhould do no better than abandon his Poſt, when before he had threaten'd the Deſer⯑ters with Death; he reduces his Counſel into the Form of a Proverb, diſguiſing it as handſomly as he can under a Sen⯑tence. It is better to avoid an Evil, &c. It is obſervable too how he has qualify'd the Expreſſion: He does not ſay, to ſhun the Battel, for that had been unſoldierly, but he ſoftens the Phraſe, and calls it, to ſhun Evil: And this word Evil he applies twice together, in adviſing them to leave the En⯑gagement.

It is farther remark'd, that this was the nobleſt Opportunity for a General to try the Temper of his Officers; for he knew that in a Calm of Affairs, it was common with moſt People either out of Flattery or Reſpect to ſubmit to their Leaders: But in imminent Danger, Fear does not bribe them, but every one diſcovers his very Soul, valuing all other Conſiderations, in regard to his Safety, but in the ſecond Place. He knew the Men he ſpoke to were prudent Perſons, and not eaſy to caſt [132] themſelves into a precipitate Flight. He might likewiſe have a mind to recommend himſelf to his Army by the means of his Officers; which he was not very able to do of himſelf, angry as they were at him, for the Affront he had offer'd Achilles, and by Conſequence thinking him the Author of all their preſent Calamities. Euſtathius.

IX.

This is a noble Complement to his Country and to the Gre⯑cian Army, to ſhew that it was an Impoſſibility for them to follow even their General in any thing that was cowardly, or ſhameful; tho' the Lives and Safeties of 'em all were con⯑cern'd in it.

X.

As who ſhould ſay, that another Man might indeed have utter'd the ſame Advice, but it could not be a Perſon of Prudence; or if he had Prudence, he could not be a Governour, but a pri⯑vate Man; or if a Governour, yet one who had not a well⯑diſciplin'd and obedient Army; or laſtly, if he had an Army ſo condition'd, yet it could not be ſo large and numerous an one as that of Agamemnon. This is a fine Climax, and of a wonderful Strength. Euſtathius.

XI.

‘VERSE 118. Whoe'er, or young, or old, &c.]’ This nearly reſembles an ancient Cuſtom at Athens, where in Times of Trouble and Diſtreſs, every one, of what Age or Quality ſo⯑ever, was invited to give in his Opinion with Freedom by the publick Cryer. Euſtathius.

XII.

VERSE 120.] This Speech of Diomed is naturally intro⯑duced, beginning with an Anſwer, as if he had been call'd upon to give his Advice. The Counſel he propoſes was that alone which could be of any real Service in their preſent Exi⯑gency: However ſince he ventures to adviſe where Ulyſſes is at a Loſs, and Neſtor himſelf ſilent, he thinks it proper to apologize for this Liberty by reminding them of his Birth and Deſcent, hoping thence to add to his Counſel a Weight and Authority which he could not from his Years and Expe⯑rience. It can't indeed be deny'd that this hiſtorical Digreſ⯑ſion ſeems more out of Seaſon than any of the ſame kind which we ſo frequently meet with in Homer, ſince his Birth and Pa⯑rentage muſt have been ſufficiently known to all at the Siege, as he here tells them. This muſt be own'd a Defect not al⯑together to be excus'd in the Poet, but which may receive ſome Alleviation, if conſider'd as a Fault of Temperament. For he had certainly a ſtrong Inclination to genealogical Stories, and too frequently takes occaſion to gratify this Humour.

XIII.

‘VERSE 135. He fled to Argos.]’ This is a very artful Co⯑lour: He calls the Flight of his Father for killing one of his Brothers, travelling and dwelling at Argos, without mention⯑ing the Cauſe and Occaſion of his Retreat. What imme⯑diately follows (ſo Jove ordain'd) does not only contain in it a Diſguiſe of his Crime, but is a juſt Motive likewiſe for our Compaſſion. Euſtathius.

XIV.

‘VERSE 146. Let each go forth and animate the reſt.]’ It is worth a Remark, with what Management and Diſcretion the Poet has brought theſe four Kings, and no more, towards [134] the Engagement, ſince theſe are ſufficient alone to perform all that he requires. For Neſtor propoſes to them to enquire, if there be any way or means which Prudence can direct for their Security. Agamemnon attempts to diſcover that Me⯑thod. Ulyſſes refutes him as one whoſe Method was diſho⯑nourable, but propoſes no other Project. Diomed ſupplies that Deficiency, and ſhews what muſt be done: That wounded as they are, they ſhould go forth to the Battel; for tho' they were not able to engage, yet their Preſence would re-eſtabliſh their Affairs by detaining in Arms thoſe who might otherwiſe quit the Field. This Counſel is embrac'd, and readily obey'd by the reſt. Euſtathius.

XV.

‘VERSE 179. The Story of Jupiter and Juno.]’ I don't know a bolder Fiction in all Antiquity, than this of Jupiter's being deceiv'd and laid aſleep, or that has a greater Air of Impiety and Abſurdity. 'Tis an Obſervation of Monſ. de St. Evre⯑mond upon the ancient Poets, which every one will agree to; ‘"that it is ſurprizing enough to find them ſo ſcrupulous to preſerve Probability, in Actions purely human; and ſo ready to violate it, in repreſenting the Actions of the Gods. Even thoſe who have ſpoken more ſagely than the reſt, of their Nature, could not forbear to ſpeak extravagantly of their Conduct. When they eſtabliſh their Being and their Attributes, they make them immortal, infinite, almighty, perfectly wiſe, and perfectly good: But the Moment they repreſent them acting, there's no Weakneſs to which they do not make 'em ſtoop, and no Folly or Wickedneſs they do not make 'em commit."’ The ſame Author anſwers this in another Place by remarking, ‘"that Truth was not the Inclination of the firſt Ages: A fooliſh Lye or a lucky Falſhood gave Reputation to Impoſtors, and Pleaſure to the credulous. 'Twas the whole Secret of the great and the wiſe to govern the ſimple and ignorant Herd. The vul⯑gar, who pay a profound Reverence to myſterious Errors, would have deſpiſed plain Truth, and it was thought a piece of Prudence to deceive them. All the Diſcourſes of [135] the Ancients were fitted to ſo advantagious a Deſign. There was nothing to be ſeen but Fictions, Allegories, and Similitudes, and nothing was to appear as it was in itſelf."’

I muſt needs, upon the whole, as far as I can judge, give up the Morality of this Fable; but what Colour of Excuſe for it Homer might have from ancient Tradition, or what myſtical or allegorical Senſe might attone for the appearing Impiety, is hard to be aſcertain'd at this diſtant Period of Time. That there had been before his Age a Tradition of Jupiter's being laid aſleep, appears from the Story of Hercules at Coos, referr'd to by our Author, ℣. 285. There is alſo a Paſſage in Diodorus, lib. 1. c. 7. which gives ſome ſmall Light to this Fiction. Among other Reaſons which that Hiſtorian lays down to prove that Homer travell'd into Egypt, he alledges this Paſſage of the Interview of Jupiter and Juno, which he ſays was grounded upon an Egyptian Feſtival, whereon the nuptial Ceremonies of theſe two Deities were celebrated, at which time both their Tabernacles, adorned with all ſorts of Flowers, are carry'd by the Prieſts to the top of a high Moun⯑tain. Indeed as the greateſt Part of the Ceremonies of the ancient Religions conſiſted in ſome ſymbolical Repreſentations of certain Actions of their Gods, or rather deify'd Mortals, ſo a great part of ancient Poetry conſiſted in the Deſcription of the Actions exhibited in theſe Ceremonies. The Loves of Venus and Adonis are a remarkable Inſtance of this kind, which, tho' under different Names, were celebrated by annual Repreſentations, as well in Egypt as in ſeveral Nations of Greece and Aſia: and to the Images which were carry'd in theſe Feſtivals, ſeveral ancient Poets were indebted for their moſt happy Deſcriptions. If the Truth of this Obſervation of Diodorus be admitted, the preſent Paſſage will appear with more Dignity, being grounded on Religion; and the Conduct of the Poet will be more juſtifiable, if that, which has been generally accounted an indecent wanton Fiction, ſhould prove to be the Repreſentation of a religious Solemnity. Con⯑ſidering the great Ignorance we are in of many ancient ſu⯑perſtitious Ceremonies, there may be probably in Homer ma⯑ny Incidents entirely of this Nature; wherefore we ought to [136] be reſerv'd in our Cenſures, leſt what we decry as wrong in the Poet, ſhould prove only a Fault in his Religion. And indeed it would be a very unfair way to tax any People, or any Age whatever, with Groſſneſs in general, purely from the groſs or abſurd Ideas or Practices that are to be found in their Religions.

In the next Place, if we have recourſe to Allegory, (which ſoftens and reconciles every thing) it may be imagin'd that by the Congreſs of Jupiter and Juno, is meant the min⯑gling of the Aether and the Air (which are generally ſaid to be ſignify'd by theſe two Deities.) The Ancients believ'd the Aether to be Igneous, and that by its kind Influence up⯑on the Air it was the Cauſe of all Vegetation: To which nothing more exactly correſponds, than the Fiction of the Earth putting forth her Flowers immediately upon this Con⯑greſs. Virgil has ſome Lines in the ſecond Georgic, that ſeem a perfect Explanation of the Fable into this Senſe. In deſcribing the Spring, he hints as if ſomething of a vivifying Influence was at that time ſpread from the upper Heavens in⯑to the Air. He calls Jupiter expreſly Aether, and repreſents him operating upon his Spouſe for the Production of all things.

But, be all this as it will, it is certain, that whatever may be thought of this Fable in a theological or philoſophical View, it is one of the moſt beautiful Pieces that ever was produc'd by Poetry. Neither does it want its Moral; an ingenious modern Writer (whom I am pleas'd to take any oc⯑caſion of quoting) has given it us in theſe Words.

‘"This Paſſage of Homer may ſuggeſt abundance of In⯑ſtruction to a Woman who has a mind to preſerve or re⯑call the Affection of her Husband. The Care of her Per⯑ſon and Dreſs, with the particular Blandiſhments wo⯑ven in the Ceſtus, are ſo plainly recommended by this Fa⯑ble, [137] and ſo indiſpenſably neceſſary in every Female who de⯑ſires to pleaſe, that they need no farther Explanation. The Diſcretion likewiſe in covering all matrimonial Quarrels from the Knowledge of others, is taught in the pretend⯑ed Viſit to Tethys, in the Speech where Juno addreſſes her⯑ſelf to Venus; as the chaſte and prudent Management of a Wife's Charms is intimated by the ſame Pretence for her appearing before Jupiter, and by the Concealment of the Ceſtus in her Boſom. I ſhall leave this Tale to the Conſi⯑deration of ſuch good Houſwives who are never well dreſs'd but when they are abroad, and think it neceſſary to ap⯑pear more agreeable to all Men living than their Husbands: As alſo to thoſe prudent Ladies, who, to avoid the Ap⯑pearance of being over-fond, entertain their Husbands with Indifference, Averſion, ſullen Silence, or exaſperating Language."’

XVI.

‘VERSE 191. Swift to her bright Apartment ſhe repairs, &c.]’ This Paſſage may be of Conſideration to the Ladies, and, for their ſakes, I take a little Pains to obſerve upon it. Ho⯑mer tells us that the very Goddeſſes, who are all over Charms, never dreſs in Sight of any one: The Queen of Heaven adorns herſelf in private, and the Doors lock after her. In Homer there are no Dieux des Ruelles, no Gods are admitted to the Toilette.

I am afraid there are ſome earthly Goddeſſes of leſs Pru⯑dence, who have loſt much of the Adoration of Mankind by the contrary Practice. Lucretius (a very good Judge in Gal⯑lantry) preſcribes as a Cure to a deſperate Lover, the frequent Sight of his Miſtreſs undreſs'd. Juno herſelf has ſuffer'd a lit⯑tle by the very Muſe's peeping into her Chamber, ſince ſome nice Criticks are ſhock'd in this Place of Homer to find that the Goddeſs waſhes herſelf, which preſents ſome Idea as if ſhe was dirty. Thoſe who have Delicacy will profit by this Remark.

XVII.

‘VERSE 198. Soft Oils of Fragrance.]’ The Practice of Juno in anointing her Body with perfumed Oils was a remarkable part of ancient Coſmeticks, tho' entirely diſuſed in the modern Arts of Dreſs. It may poſſibly offend the Niceneſs of mo⯑dern Ladies; but they who paint ſo artificially ought to con⯑ſider that this Practice might, without much greater Difficul⯑ty, be reconciled to Cleanlineſs. This Paſſage is a clear In⯑ſtance of the Antiquity of this Cuſtom, and clearly deter⯑mines againſt Pliny, who is of Opinion that it was not ſo an⯑cient as thoſe times, where, ſpeaking of perfum'd Unguents, he ſays, Quis primus invenerit non traditur; Iliacis temporibus non erant. lib. 13. c. 1. Beſides the Cuſtom of anointing Kings among the Jews, which the Chriſtians have borrow'd, there are ſeveral Alluſions in the Old Teſtament which ſhew that this Practice was thought ornamental among them. The Pſalmiſt, ſpeaking of the Gifts of God, mentions Wine and Oil, the former to make glad the Heart of Man, and the latter to give him a chearful Countenance. It ſeems moſt probable that this was an Eaſtern Invention, agreeable to the Luxury of the Aſiaticks, among whom the moſt pro⯑per Ingredients for theſe Unguents were produc'd; from them this Cuſtom was propagated among the Romans, by whom it was eſteem'd a Pleaſure of a very refin'd Nature. Whoever is curious to ſee Inſtances of their Expence and De⯑licacy therein, may be ſatisfy'd in the three firſt Chapters of the thirteenth Book of Pliny's Natural Hiſtory.

XVIII.

‘VERSE 203. Thus while ſhe breath'd of Heav'n, &c.]’ We have here a compleat Picture from Head to Foot of the Dreſs of the Fair Sex, and of the Mode between two and three thouſand Years ago. May I have leave to obſerve the great Simplicity of Juno's Dreſs, in Compariſon with the in⯑numerable [139] Equipage of a modern Toilette? The Goddeſs, even when ſhe is ſetting herſelf out on the greateſt Occaſion, has only her own Locks to tie, a white Veil to caſt over them, a Mantle to dreſs her whole Body, her Pendants, and her Sandals. This the Poet expreſly ſays was all her Dreſs, [ [...];] and one may reaſonably conclude it was all that was uſed by the greateſt Princeſſes and fineſt Beauties of thoſe Times. The good Euſtathius is raviſh'd to find, that here are no Waſhes for the Face, no Dies for the Hair, and none of thoſe artificial Embelliſhments ſince in Practice; he alſo rejoices not a little, that Juno has no Looking-Glaſs, Tire-Woman, or waiting Maid. One may preach till Doomſday on this Subject, but all the Commentators in the World will never prevail upon a Lady to ſtick one Pin the leſs in her Gown, except ſhe can be convinced, that the ancient Dreſs will better ſet off her Perſon.

As the Aſiaticks always ſurpaſs'd the Grecians in whatever regarded Magnificence and Luxury, ſo we find their Women far gone in the contrary Extreme of Dreſs. There is a Paſ⯑ſage in Iſaiah, Ch. 3. that gives us a Particular of their Ward⯑robe, with the Number and Uſeleſſneſs of their Ornaments; and which I think appears very well in Contraſt to this of Homer. The Bravery of their tinkling Ornaments about their Feet, and their Cauls, and their round Tires like the Moon: The Chains, and the Bracelets, and the Mufflers, the Bonnets, and the Ornaments of the Legs, and the Headbands, and the Tablets, and the Ear-rings, the Rings and Noſe-jewels, the changeable Suits of Apparel, and the Mantles, and the Wimples, and the Criſping-Pins, the Glaſſes, and the fine Li⯑nen, and the Hoods, and the Veils.

I could be glad to ask the Ladies, which they ſhould like beſt to imitate, the Greeks, or the Aſiaticks? I would deſire thoſe that are handſome and well-made, to conſider, that the Dreſs of Juno (which is the ſame they ſee in Statues) has mani⯑feſtly the Advantage of the preſent, in diſplaying whatever is beautiful: That the Charms of the Neck and Breaſt are not leſs laid open, than by the modern Stays; and that thoſe of the Leg are more gracefully diſcover'd, than even by the Hoop-petticoat: That the fine Turn of the Arms is better ob⯑ſerv'd: [140] and that ſeveral natural Graces of the Shape and Bo⯑dy appear much more conſpicuous. It is not to be deny'd but the Aſiatic and our preſent Modes were better contriv'd to conceal ſome People's Defects, but I don't ſpeak to ſuch Peo⯑ple: I ſpeak only to Ladies of that Beauty, who can make any Faſhion prevail by their being ſeen in it; and who put others of their Sex under the wretched Neceſſity of being like them in their Habits, or not being like them at all. As for the reſt, let 'em follow the Mode of Judaea, and be content with the Name of Aſiaticks.

XIX.

‘VERSE 216. Thus iſſuing radiant, &c.]’ Thus the God⯑deſs comes from her Apartment againſt her Spouſe in com⯑pleat Armour. The Pleaſures of Women moſtly prevail upon us by pure cunning, and the artful Management of their Per⯑ſons; againſt which a wiſe Man ought to be upon his guard: For there is but one way for the weak to ſubdue the mighty, and that is by Pleaſure. The Poet ſhews at the ſame time, that Men of Underſtanding are not maſter'd, without a great deal of Artifice and Addreſs. There are but three ways, where⯑by to overcome another, by Violence, by Perſuaſion, or by Craft: Jupiter was invincible by main Force; to think of perſuading was as fruitleſs, after he had paſs'd his Nod to Achilles; therefore Juno was obliged of neceſſity to turn her Thoughts entirely upon Craft; and by the Force of Plea⯑ſure it is, that ſhe inſnares and manages the God. Eu⯑ſtathius.

XX.

‘VERSE 218. And calls the Mother of the Smiles and Loves.]’ Notwithſtanding all the Pains Juno has been at, to adorn her⯑ſelf, ſhe is ſtill conſcious that neither the natural Beauty of her Perſon, nor the artificial one of her Dreſs, will be ſuffi⯑cient to work upon a Husband. She therefore has Recourſe to the Ceſtus of Venus, as a kind of Love-charm, not doubt⯑ing to enflame his Mind by magical Enchantment; a Folly [141] which in all Ages has poſſeſt her Sex. To procure this, ſhe applies to the Goddeſs of Love; from whom hiding her real Deſign under a feign'd Story, (another Propriety in the Character of the Fair) ſhe obtains the invaluable Preſent of this wonder-working Girdle. The Allegory of the Ceſtus lies very open, tho' the Impertinences of Euſtathius on this Head are unſpeakable. In it are comprized the moſt power⯑ful Incentives to Love, as well as the ſtrongeſt Effects of the Paſſion. The juſt Admiration of this Paſſage has been a-l⯑ways ſo great and univerſal, that the Ceſtus of Venus is be⯑come proverbial. The Beauty of the Lines which in a few Words comprehend this agreeable Fiction, can ſcarce be equall'd. So beautiful an Original has produc'd very fine Imi⯑tations, wherein we may obſerve a few additional Figures, expreſſing ſome of the Improvements which the Affectation, or Artifice, of the Fair Sex have introduc'd into the Art of Love ſince Homer's Days. Taſſo has finely imitated this De⯑ſcription in the magical Girdle of Armida. Gieruſalemme liberata, Cant. 16.

Monſ. de la Motte's Imitation of this Fiction is likewiſe won⯑derfully beautiful.

Spencer, in his 4th Book, Canto 5. deſcribes a Girdle of Venus of a very different Nature; for as this had the Power to raiſe up looſe Deſires in others, that had a more wonderful Faculty to ſuppreſs them in the Perſon that wore it: But it had a moſt dreadful Quality, to burſt aſunder whenever tied about any but a chaſte Boſom. Such a Girdle, 'tis to be fear'd, would produce Eſſects very different from the other: Homer's Ceſtus would be a Peace-maker to reconcile Man and Wife; but Spencer's Ceſtus would probably deſtroy the good Agreement of many a happy Couple.

XXI.

‘VERSE 255.—And preſt The pow'rful Ceſtus to her ſnowy Breaſt.]’ Euſtathius takes notice, that the word Ceſtus is not the Name, but Epithet only, of Venus's Girdle; tho' the Epi⯑thet has prevail'd ſo far as to become the proper Name in common uſe. This has happen'd to others of our Author's Epithets; the word Pygmy is of the ſame Nature. Venus wore this Girdle below her Neck, and in open Sight, but Juno hides it in her Boſom, to ſhew the difference of the two Characters: It ſuits well with Venus to make a Shew of what⯑ever is engaging in her; but Juno, who is a Matron of Pru⯑dence and Gravity, ought to be more modeſt.

XXII.

In this Fiction Homer introduces a new divine Perſonage: It does not appear whether this God of Sleep was a God of Ho⯑mer's [143] Creation, or whether his Pretenſions to Divinity were of more ancient Date. The Poet indeed ſpeaks of him as of one formerly active in ſome heavenly Tranſactions. Be this as it will, ſucceeding Poets have always acknowledg'd his Title. Virgil would not let his Aeneid be without a Perſon ſo pro⯑per for poetical Machinery; tho' he has employ'd him with much leſs Art than his great Maſter, ſince he appears in the 5th Book without Provocation or Commiſſion, only to de⯑ſtroy the Trojan Pilot. The Criticks, who cannot ſee all the Allegories which the Commentators pretend to find in Homer's Divinities, muſt be obliged to acknowledge the Re⯑ality and Propriety of this; ſince every thing that is here ſaid of this imaginary Deity is juſtly applicable to Sleep. He is called the Brother of Death; is ſaid to be protected by Night; and is employed very naturally to lull a Husband to Reſt in the Embraces of his Wife; which Effect of this Con⯑jugal Opiate even the modeſt Virgil has remark'd in the Per⯑ſons of Vulcan and Venus, probably with an Eye to this Paſ⯑ſage of Homer.

XXIII.

‘VERSE 263. To Lemnos.]’ The Commentators are hard put to it, to give a Reaſon why Juno ſeeks for Sleep in Lem⯑nos. Some finding out that Lemnos anciently abounded with Wine, inform us that it was a proper Place of Reſidence for him, Wine being naturally a great Provoker of Sleep. Others will have it, that this God being in love with Paſithaë, who reſided with her Siſter the Wife of Vulcan, in Lemnos, it was very probable he might be found haunting near his Miſtreſs. Other Commentators perceiving the Weakneſs of theſe Con⯑jectures, will have it that Juno met Sleep here by mere Ac⯑cident; but this is contradictory to the whole Thread of the Narration. But who knows whether Homer might not de⯑ſign this Fiction as a Piece of Raillery upon the Sluggiſhneſs of the Lemnians; tho' this Character of them does not ap⯑pear? [144] A kind of Satyr like that of Arioſto, who makes the Angel find Diſcord in a Monaſtery: Or like that of Boileau in his Lutrin, where he places Molleſſe in a Dormitory of the Monks of St. Bernard?

XXIV.

‘VERSE 266. Sweet-pleaſing Sleep, &c.]’ Virgil has copied ſome part of this Converſation between Juno and Sleep, where he introduces the ſame Goddeſs making a Requeſt to Aeolus. Scaliger, who is always eager to depreciate Homer, and zeal⯑ous to praiſe his favourite Author, has highly cenſured this Paſſage: But notwithſtanding this Critick's Judgment, an impartial Reader will find, I don't doubt, much more Art and Beauty in the Original than the Copy. In the former, Juno endeavours to engage Sleep in her Deſign by the Promiſe of a proper and valuable Preſent; but having formerly run a great Hazard in a like Attempt, he is not prevail'd upon. Hereupon the Goddeſs, knowing his Paſſion for one of the Graces, engages to give her to his Deſires: This Hope brings the Lover to Conſent, but not before he obliges Juno to con⯑firm her Promiſe by an Oath in a moſt ſolemn manner, the very Words and Ceremony whereof he preſcribes to her. Theſe are all beautiful and poetical Circumſtances, moſt whereof are untouch'd by Virgil, and which Scaliger therefore calls low and vulgar. He only makes Juno demand a Favour from Aeolus, which he had no reaſon to refuſe; and promiſe him a Reward, which it does not appear he was fond of. The Latin Poet has indeed with great Judgment added one Circumſtance concerning the Promiſe of Children,

And this is very conformable to the Religion of the Romans, among whom Juno was ſuppos'd to preſide over human Births; but it does not appear ſhe had any ſuch Office in the Greek Theology.

XXV.

‘VERSE 272. A ſplendid Footſtool.]’ Notwithſtanding the Cavils of Scaliger, it may be allow'd, that an eaſy Chair was no improper Preſent for Sleep. As to the Footſtool, Mad. Dacier's Obſervation is a very juſt one; that beſides its being a Conveniency, it was a Mark of Honour, and was far from preſenting any low or trivial Idea. 'Tis upon that Account we find it ſo frequently mention'd in Scripture, where the Earth is call'd the Footſtool of the Throne of God. In Jere⯑miah, Judaea is call'd (as a Mark of Diſtinction) the Foot⯑ſtool of the Feet of God. Lament. 2. ℣. 1. And he remem⯑ber'd not the Footſtool of his Feet, in the Day of his Wrath. We ſee here the ſame Image, founded no doubt upon the ſame Cuſtoms. Dacier.

XXVI.

‘VERSE 279. The Sire of all, old Ocean.]’ ‘"Homer (ſays Plutarch) calls the Sea Father of All, with a View to this Doctrine, that all things were generated from Water. Thales the Mileſian, the Head of the Ionick Sect who ſeems to have been the firſt Author of Philoſophy, affirm⯑ed Water to be the Principle from whence all things ſpring, and into which all things are reſolv'd; becauſe the prolific Seed of all Animals is a Moiſture; all Plants are nouriſhed by Moiſture; the very Sun and Stars, which are Fire, are nouriſhed by moiſt Vapours and Exhalations; and conſequently he thought the World was produc'd from this Element."’ Plut. Opin. of Philoſ. lib. 1. c. 3.

XXVII.

‘VERSE 281. But how, unbidden, &c.]’ This Particularity is worth remarking; Sleep tells Juno that he dares not ap⯑proach Jupiter without his own Order; whereby he ſeems to intimate, that a Spirit of a ſuperior kind may give itſelf up [146] to a voluntary Ceſſation of Thought and Action, tho' it does not want this Relaxation from any Weakneſs or Neceſſity of its Nature.

XXVIII.

‘VERSE 285. What-time deſerting Ilion's waſted Plain, &c.]’ One may obſerve from hence, that to make Falſity in Fables uſeful and ſubſervient to our Deſigns, it is not enough to cauſe the Story to reſemble Truth, but we are to corroborate it by parallel Places; which Method the Poet uſes elſewhere. Thus many have attempted great Difficulties, and ſurmount⯑ed 'em. So did Hercules, ſo did Juno, ſo did Pluto. Here therefore the Poet feigning that Sleep is going to practiſe in⯑ſidiouſly upon Jove, prevents the Strangeneſs and Incredibility of the Tale, by ſquaring it to an ancient Story; which an⯑cient Story was, that Sleep had once before got the maſtery of Jove in the caſe of Hercules. Euſtathius.

XXIX.

‘VERSE 296. Ev'n Jove rever'd the venerable Dame.]’ Ju⯑piter is repreſented as unwilling to do any thing that might be offenſive or ungrateful to Night; the Poet (ſays Euſta⯑thius) inſtructs us by this, that a wiſe and honeſt Man will curb his Wrath before any awful and venerable Perſon: Such was Night in regard of Jupiter, feign'd as an Anceſtor, and honourable on account of her Antiquity and Power. For the Greek Theology teaches that Night and Chaos were before all things. Wherefore it was held ſacred to obey the Night in the Conflicts of War, as we find by the Admonitions of the Heralds to Hector and Ajax in the 7th Iliad.

Milton has made a fine Uſe of this ancient Opinion in re⯑lation to Chaos and Night, in the latter Part of his ſecond Book, where he deſcribes the Paſſage of Satan thro' their Empire. He calls them,

[147] And alludes to the ſame, in thoſe noble Verſes,

That fine Apoſtrophe of Spenſer has alſo the ſame Allu⯑ſion, Book 1.

XXX.

There is ſomething wonderfully ſolemn in this manner of Swearing propos'd by Sleep to Juno. How anſwerable is this Idea to the Dignity of the Queen of the Goddeſſes, where Earth, Ocean, and Hell itſelf, where the whole Creation, all things viſible and inviſible, are call'd to be Witneſſes of the Oath of the Deity.

XXXI.

‘VERSE 311. That ſhe, my lov'd one, &c.]’ Sleep is here made to repeat the Words of Juno's Promiſe, than which Re⯑petition nothing, I think, can be more beautiful or better placed. The Lover fired with theſe Hopes, inſiſts on the Promiſe, dwelling with Pleaſure on each Circumſtance that relates to his fair one. The Throne and Footſtool, it ſeems, are quite out of his Head.

XXXII.

‘VERSE 323. Fair Ida trembles.]’ It is uſually ſuppos'd at the Approach or Preſence of any heavenly Being, that upon their Motion, all ſhould ſhake that lies beneath 'em. Here the Poet giving a Deſcription of the Deſcent of theſe Deities upon the Ground at Lectos, ſays that the loftieſt of the Wood trembled under their Feet: Which Expreſſion is to intimate the Lightneſs and Swiftneſs of the Motions of heavenly Be⯑ings; the Wood does not ſhake under their Feet from any corporeal Weight, but from a certain awful Dread and Hor⯑ror Euſtathius.

XXXIII.

‘VERSE 328. In Likeneſs of a Bird of Night.]’ This is a Bird of Night about the Size of a Hawk, entirely black; and that is the reaſon why Homer deſcribes Sleep under its Form. Here (ſays Euſtathius) Homer lets us know, as well as in many other Places, that he is no Stranger to the Language of the Gods. Hobbes has taken very much from the Digni⯑ty of this Suppoſition, in tranſlating the preſent Lines in this manner.

We find in Plato's Cratylus a Diſcourſe of great Subtility, grounded chiefly on this Obſervation of Homer, that the Gods and Men call the ſame thing by different Names. The Phi⯑loſopher ſuppoſes that in the original Language every thing was expreſs'd by a word, whoſe Sound was naturally apt to mark the Nature of the thing ſignify'd. This great Work he aſcribes to the Gods, ſince it required more Knowledge both in the Nature of Sounds and Things, than Man had attain'd to. This Reſemblance he ſays was almoſt loſt in modern Languages by the unskilful Alterations Men had made, and the great Licence they had taken in compounding [149] of Words. However, he obſerves there were yet among the Greeks ſome Remains of this original Language, of which he gives a few Inſtances, adding, that many more were to be found in ſome of the barbarous Languages, that had deviated leſs from the Original, which was ſtill preſerv'd entire among the Gods. This appears a Notion ſo uncommon, that I could not forbear to mention it.

XXXIV.

‘VERSE 345.—To whoſe indulgent Cares I owe the Nur⯑ſing, &c.]’ The Allegory of this is very obvious. Juno is conſtantly underſtood to be the Air; and we are here told ſhe was nouriſhed by Oceanus and Tethys: That is to ſay, the Air is fed and nouriſhed by the Vapours which riſe from the Ocean and the Earth. For Tethys is the ſame with Rhea. Euſtathius.

XXXV.

VERSE 359.] This Courtſhip of Jupiter to Juno may poſ⯑ſibly be thought pretty ſingular. He endeavours to prove the Ardour of his Paſſion to her, by the Inſtances of its Warmth to other Women. A great many People will look upon this as no very likely Method to recommend him⯑ſelf to Juno's Favour. Yet, after all, ſomething may be ſaid in Defence of Jupiter's way of thinking, with reſpect to the Ladies. Perhaps a Man's Love to the Sex in general may be no ill Recommendation of him to a Particular. And to be known, or thought, to have been ſucceſsful with a good many, is what ſome Moderns have found no unfortunate Qualifica⯑tion in gaining a Lady, even a moſt virtuous one like Juno, eſpecially one who (like her) has had the Experience of a married State.

XXXVI.

‘VERSE 395. Glad Earth perceives, &c.]’ It is an Obſer⯑vation of Ariſtotle in the 25th Chapter of his Poeticks, that [150] when Homer is obliged to deſcribe any thing of itſelf abſurd or too improbable, he conſtantly contrives to blind and dazle the Judgment of his Readers with ſome ſhining Deſcription. This Paſſage is a remarkable Inſtance of that Artifice, for ha⯑ving imagined a Fiction of very great Abſurdity, that the ſu⯑preme Being ſhould be laid aſleep in a female Embrace, he immediately, as it were to divert his Reader from reflecting on his Boldneſs, pours forth a great Variety of poetical Or⯑naments; by deſcribing the various Flowers the Earth ſhoots up to compoſe their Couch, the golden Clouds that encom⯑paſs'd them, and the bright heavenly Dews that were ſhower'd round them. Euſtathius obſerves it as an Inſtance of Homer's modeſt Conduct in ſo delicate an Affair, that he has purpoſe⯑ly adorn'd the Bed of Jupiter with ſuch a Variety of beauti⯑ful Flowers, that the Reader's Thoughts being entirely taken up with theſe Ornaments, might have no room for looſe Ima⯑ginations. In the ſame manner an ancient Scholiaſt has ob⯑ſerv'd, that the golden Cloud was contriv'd to lock up this Action from any farther Enquiry of the Reader.

XXXVII.

VERSE 395.] I cannot conclude the Notes on this Story of Jupiter and Juno, without obſerving with what particular Care Milton has imitated the ſeveral beautiful Parts of this Epiſode, introducing them upon different Occaſions as the Subjects of his Poem would admit. The Circumſtance of Sleep's ſitting in Likeneſs of a Bird on the Fir-Tree upon Mount Ida, is alluded to in his 4th Book, where Satan ſits in Like⯑neſs of a Cormorant on the Tree of Life. The Creation is made to give the ſame Tokens of Joy at the Performance of the nuptial Rites of our firſt Parents, as ſhe does here at the Congreſs of Jupiter and Juno. Lib. 8.

Thoſe Lines alſo in the 4th Book are manifeſtly from the ſame Original.

Where the very Turn of Homer's Verſes is obſerved, and the Cadence, and almoſt the Words, finely tranſlated.

But it is with wonderful Judgment and Decency he has uſed that exceptionable Paſſage of the Dalliance, Ardour, and Enjoyment: That which ſeems in Homer an impious Fiction, becomes a moral Leſſon in Milton; ſince he makes that laſ⯑civious Rage of the Paſſion the immediate Effect of the Sin of our firſt Parents after the Fall. Adam expreſſes it in the Words of Jupiter.

XXXVIII.

‘VERSE 417. The Pow'r of Slumbers flew.]’ M. Dacier in her Tranſlation of this Paſſage has thought fit to diſſent from the common Interpretation, as well as obvious Senſe of the Words. She reſtrains the general Expreſſion [...], the famous Nations of Men, to ſignify only the Coun⯑try of the Lemnians, who, ſhe ſays, were much celebrated on account of Vulcan. But this ſtrain'd Interpretation can⯑not be admitted, eſpecially when the obvious Meaning of the Words expreſs what is very proper and natural. The God of Sleep having haſtily delivered his Meſſage to Neptune, im⯑mediately leaves the Hurry of the Battel, (which was no pro⯑per Scene for him) and retires among the Tribes of Man⯑kind. The word [...], on which M. Dacier grounds her Criticiſm, is an expletive Epithet very common in Homer, and no way fit to point out one certain Nation, eſpecially in an Author one of whoſe moſt diſtinguiſhing Characters is Particularity in Deſcription.

XXXIX.

‘VERSE 444. The Legions march, and Neptune leads the way.]’ The chief Advantage the Greeks gain by the Sleep of Jupiter ſeems to be this: Neptune unwilling to offend Jupi⯑ter, has hitherto concealed himſelf in diſguiſed Shapes; ſo that it does not appear that Jupiter knew of his being among the Greeks, ſince he takes no notice of it. This Precaution hinders him from aſſiſting the Greeks otherwiſe than by his Advice. But upon the Intelligence receiv'd of what Juno had done, he aſſumes a Form that manifeſts his Divinity, in⯑ſpiring Courage into the Grecian Chiefs, appearing at the Head of their Army, brandiſhing a Sword in his Hand, the Sight of which ſtruck ſuch a Terror into the Trojans that, [153] as Homer ſays, none durſt approach it. And therefore it is not to be wonder'd, that the Trojans who are no longer ſu⯑ſtain'd by Jupiter, immediately give way to the Enemy.

XL.

‘VERSE 442. The weaker Warrior takes a lighter Shield.]’ Plutarch ſeems to allude to this Paſſage in the beginning of the Life of Pelopidas. ‘"Homer, ſays he, makes the braveſt and ſtouteſt of his Warriors march to Battel in the beſt Arms. The Grecian Legiſlators puniſh'd thoſe who caſt away their Shields, but not thoſe who loſt their Spears or their Swords, as an Intimation, that the Care of preſerving and defending our ſelves is preferable to the wounding our Enemy, eſpe⯑cially in thoſe who are Generals of Armies, or Governors of States."’ Euſtathius has obſerv'd, that the Poet here makes the beſt Warriors take the largeſt Shields and longeſt Spears, that they might be ready prepar'd, with proper Arms, both offenſive and defenſive, for a new kind of Fight, in which they are ſoon to be engaged when the Fleet is attack'd. Which indeed ſeems the moſt rational Account that can be given for Neptune's Advice in this Exigence.

Mr. Hobbes has committed a great Overſight in this Place; he makes the wounded Princes (who it is plain were unfit for the Battel, and do not engage in the enſuing Fight) put on Arms as well as the others; whereas they do no more in Ho⯑mer than ſee their Orders obey'd by the reſt as to this Change of Arms.

XLI.

‘VERSE 452. And lo the God, and wondrous Man appear.]’ What Magnificence and Nobleneſs is there in this Idea? where Homer oppoſes Hector to Neptune, and equalizes him in ſome degree to a God. Euſtathius.

XLII.

‘VERSE 453. The roaring Main, &c.]’ This ſwelling and Inundation of the Sea towards the Grecian Camp, as if it had been agitated by a Storm, is meant for a Prodigy, intimating that the Waters had the ſame Reſentments with their Com⯑mander Neptune, and ſeconded him in his Quarrel. Eu⯑ſtathius.

XLIII.

‘VERSE 457. Not half ſo loud, &c.]’ The Poet having ended the Epiſode of Jupiter and Juno, returns to the Battel, where the Greeks being animated and led on by Neptune, renew the Fight with Vigour. The Noiſe and Outcry of this freſh Onſet, he endeavours to expreſs by theſe three ſounding Compariſons; as if he thought it neceſſary to awake the Reader's Attention, which by the preceding De⯑ſcriptions might be lull'd into a Forgetfulneſs of the Fight. He might likewiſe deſign to ſhew how ſoundly Jupiter ſlept, ſince he is not awak'd by ſo terrible an Uproar.

This Paſſage cannot be thought juſtly liable to the Obje⯑ctions which have been made againſt heaping Compariſons one upon another, whereby the principal Object is loſt amidſt too great a Variety of different Images. In this Caſe the principal Image is more ſtrongly impreſs'd on the Mind by a Multiplication of Similes, which are the natural Product of an Imagination labouring to expreſs ſomething very vaſt: But finding no ſingle Idea ſufficient to anſwer its Conceptions, it endeavours by redoubling the Compariſons to ſupply this Defect: the different Sounds of Waters, Winds, and Flames being as it were united in one. We have ſeveral Inſtances of this ſort even in ſo caſtigated and reſerv'd a Writer as Virgil, who has joined together the Images of this Paſſage in the 4th Georgic, ℣. 261. and apply'd them, beautifully ſof⯑tened by a kind of Parody, to the buzzing of a Beehive.

Taſſo has not only imitated this particular Paſſage of Homer, but likewiſe added to it. Cant. 9. St. 22.

XLIV.

‘VERSE 480. Smoaks in the Duſt, and ploughs into the Ground.]’

Theſe Words are tranſlated by ſeveral as if they ſignify'd, that Hector was turn'd round with the Blow, like a Whirlwind; which would enhance the wonderful Greatneſs of Ajax's Strength. Euſtathius rather inclines to refer the Words to the Stone itſelf, and the Violence of its Motion. Chapman I think is in the right to prefer the latter, but he ſhould not have taken the Interpretation to himſelf. He ſays, it is above the Wit of Man to give a more fiery Illuſtration both of Ajax's Strength and Hector's; of Ajax, for giving ſuch a Force to the Stone, that it could not ſpend itſelf on Hector, but af⯑terwards turn'd upon the Earth with that Violence; and of Hector, for ſtanding the Blow ſo ſolidly; for without that Conſideration, the Stone could never have recoil'd ſo fiercely. This Image, together with the noble Simile following it, ſeem to have given Spencer the Hint of thoſe ſublime Verſes.

XLV.

‘VERSE 533. Propt on that Spear, &c.]’ The occaſion of this Sarcaſm of Polydamas ſeems taken from the Attitude of his falling Enemy, who is transfixed with a Spear thro' his right Shoulder. This Poſture bearing ſome Reſemblance to that of a Man leaning on a Staff, might probably ſuggeſt this Conceit.

The Speech of Polydamas begins a long String of Sarcaſtick Raillery, in which Euſtathius pretends to obſerve very diffe⯑rent Characters. This of Polydamas, he ſays, is pleaſant, that of Ajax, heroic; that of Acamas, plain; and that of Peneleus, pathetick.

XLVI.

‘VERSE 599. Daughters of Jove! &c.]’ Whenever we meet with theſe freſh Invocations in the midſt of Action, the Poets would ſeem to give their Readers to underſtand, that they are come to a Point where the Deſcription being above their own Strength, they have occaſion for ſupernatural Aſſiſtance; by this Artifice at once exciting the Reader's Attention, and gracefully varying the Narration. In the preſent caſe Ho⯑mer ſeems to triumph in the Advantage the Greeks had gain'd in the Flight of the Trojans, by invoking the Muſes to ſnatch the brave Actions of his Heroes from Oblivion, and ſet them in the Light of Eternity. This Power is vindicated to them by the Poets on every occaſion, and it is to this Task they [157] are ſo ſolemnly and frequently ſummon'd by our Author. Taſſo has, I think, introduced one of theſe Invocations in a very noble and peculiar manner; where, on occaſion of a Battle by Night, he calls upon the Night to allow him to draw forth thoſe mighty Deeds which were perform'd under the Conceal⯑ment of her Shades, and to diſplay their Glories, notwith⯑ſtanding that Diſadvantage, to all Poſterity.

I.

ADAM, in Paradiſe loſt, awakes from the Embrace of Eve, in much the ſame Humour with Jupiter in this Place. Their Circumſtance is very parallel; and each of 'em, as ſoon as his Paſſion is over, full of that Reſentment natural to a Superior, who is im⯑poſed upon by one of leſs Worth and Senſe than himſelf, and impoſed upon in the worſt manner by Shews of Tenderneſs and Love.

II.

‘VERSE 23. Haſt thou forgot, &c.]’ It is in the Original to this Effect. Have you forgot how you ſwung in the Air when I hung a Load of two Anvils at your Feet, and a Chain of Gold on your Hands? ‘"Tho' it is not my Deſign, ſays M. Dacier, to give a Reaſon for every Story in the Pagan Theology, yet I can't prevail upon my ſelf to paſs over this in Silence. The phyſical Allegory ſeems very apparent to me: Ho⯑mer myſteriouſly in this Place explains the Nature of the [206] Air, which is Juno; the two Anvils which ſhe had at her Feet are the two Elements, Earth and Water; and the Chains of Gold about her Hands are the Aether, or Fire, which fills the ſuperior Region: The two groſſer Elements are called Anvils, to ſhew us, that in theſe two Elements only, Arts are exercis'd. I don't know but that a moral Allegory may here be found, as well as a phyſical one; the Poet by theſe Maſſes tied to the Feet of Juno, and by the Chain of Gold with which her Hands were bound, might ſignify, that on one ſide domeſtick Affairs ſhould like Fetters detain the wiſe at home; and on the other, that proper and beautiful Works like Chains of Gold ought to employ her Hands."’

The phyſical part of this Note belongs to Heraclides Pon⯑tius, Euſtathius, and the Scholiaſt: M. Dacier might have been contented with the Credit of the moral one, as it ſeems an Obſervation no leſs ſingular in a Lady.

III.

VERSE 23.] Euſtathius tells us, that there were in ſome Manuſcripts of Homer two Verſes which are not to be found in any of the printed Editions, (which Hen. Stephens places here.)

By theſe two Verſes Homer ſhews us, that what he ſays of the Puniſhment of Juno was not an Invention of his own, but founded upon an ancient Tradition. There had probably been ſome Statue of Juno with Anvils at her Feet, and Chains on her Hands; and nothing but Chains and Anvils being left by Time, ſuperſtitious People rais'd this Story; ſo that Ho⯑mer only follow'd common Report. What farther confirms it, is what Euſtathius adds, that there were ſhewn near Troy certain Ruins, which were ſaid to be the Remains of theſe Maſſes. Dacier.

IV.

‘VERSE 43. And thy black Waves, tremendous Styx!]’ The Epithet Homer here gives to Styx is [...], ſubterlabens, which I take to refer to its Paſſage thro' the infernal Regi⯑ons. But there is a Refinement upon it, as if it ſignify'd ex alto ſtillans, falling drop by drop from on high. Herodotus in his ſixth Book, writes thus. ‘"The Arcadians ſay, that near the City Nonacris flows the Water of Styx, and that it is a ſmall Rill, which diſtilling from an exceed⯑ing high Rock, falls into a little Cavity or Baſon, envi⯑ron'd with a Hedge."’ Pauſanias, who had ſeen the Place, gives Light to this Paſſage of Herodotus. ‘"Going from Phereus, ſays he, in the Country of the Arcadians, and drawing towards the Weſt, we find on the left the City Clytorus, and on the right that of Nonacris, and the Foun⯑tain of Styx, which from the Height of a ſhaggy Preci⯑piece falls drop by drop upon an exceeding high Rock, and before it has travers'd this Rock, flows into the River Crathis; this Water is mortal both to Man and Beaſt, and therefore it is ſaid to be an infernal Fountain. Ho⯑mer gives it a Place in his Poems, and by the Deſcription which he delivers, one would think he had ſeen it."’ This ſhews the wonderful Exactneſs of Homer in the Deſcription of Places which he mentions. The Gods ſwore by Styx, and this was the ſtrongeſt Oath they could take; but we likewiſe find that Men too ſwore by this fatal Water: for Herodotus tells us, that Cleomenes going to Arcadia to en⯑gage the Arcadians to follow him in a War againſt Sparta, had a deſign to aſſemble at the City Nonacris, and make them ſwear by the Water of this Fountain. Dacier. Eu⯑ſtath. in Odyſſ.

V.

‘VERSE 47. Not by my Arts, &c.]’ This Apology is well contriv'd; Juno could not ſwear that ſhe had not deceiv'd Jupiter, for this had been entirely falſe, and Homer would [208] be far from authorizing Perjury by ſo great an Example. Juno, we ſee, throws part of the Fault on Neptune, by ſhew⯑ing ſhe had not acted in concert with him. Euſtathius.

VI.

‘VERSE 67. Greece chas'd by Troy, &c.]’ In this Diſcourſe of Jupiter the Poet opens his Deſign, by giving his Readers a Sketch of the principal Events he is to expect. As this Conduct of Homer may to many appear no way artful, and ſince it is a principal Article of the Charge brought againſt him by ſome late French Criticks, it will not be improper here to look a little into this Diſpute. The Caſe will be beſt ſtated by tranſlating the following Paſſage from Mr. de la Motte's Reflections ſur la Critique.

‘"I could not forbear wiſhing that Homer had an Art, which he ſeems to have neglected, that of preparing Events without making them known beforehand, ſo that when they happen one might be ſurprized agreeably. I could not be quite ſatisfied to hear Jupiter, in the middle of the Iliad, give an exact Abridgment of the Remainder of the Action. Mad. Dacier alledges as an Excuſe, that this paſt only between Jupiter and Juno; as if the Reader was not let into the Secret, and had not as much ſhare in the Confidence.’

She adds,

It appears clearly that M. Dacier's Defence no way excuſes the Poet's Conduct; wherefore I ſhall add two or three Con⯑ſiderations which may chance to ſet it in a better Light. It muſt be own'd that a Surprize artfully managed, which ariſes from unexpected Revolutions of great Actions, affects the Mind with a peculiar Delight: In this conſiſts the prin⯑cipal Pleaſure of a Romance and well writ Tragedy. But be⯑ſides this, there is in the Relation of great Events a different kind of Pleaſure which ariſes from the artful unravelling a Knot of Actions, which we knew before in the groſs. This is a Delight peculiar to Hiſtory and Epic Poetry, which is founded on Hiſtory. In theſe kinds of writing, a preceding ſummary Knowledge of the Events deſcribed, does no way [210] damp our Curioſity, but rather makes it more eager for the Detail. This is evident in a good Hiſtory, where ge⯑nerally the Reader is affected with a greater Delight, in pro⯑portion to his preceding Knowledge of the Facts deſcribed: The Pleaſure in this caſe is like that of an Architect firſt viewing ſome magnificent Building, who was before well ac⯑quainted with the Proportions of it. In an Epic Poem the caſe is of a like Nature; where, as if the hiſtorical Fore-know⯑ledge were not ſufficient, the moſt judicious Poets never fail to excite their Reader's Curioſity by ſome ſmall Sketches of their Deſign; which like the Outlines of a fine Picture, will neceſſarily raiſe in us a greater deſire to ſee it in its fi⯑niſh'd Colouring.

Had our Author been inclined to follow the Method of managing our Paſſions by Surprizes, he could not well have ſucceeded by this manner in the Subject he choſe to write upon, which being a Story of great Importance, the principal Events of which were well known to the Greeks, it was not poſſible for him to alter the Ground-work of his Piece; and probably he was willing to mark by theſe Recapitulations how much of his Story was founded on hiſtorical Truths, and that what is ſuperadded were the poetical Ornaments.

There is another Conſideration worth remembring on this Head, to juſtify our Author's Conduct. It ſeems to have been an Opinion in theſe early times, deeply rooted in moſt Countries and Religions, that the Actions of Men were not only foreknown, but predeſtinated by a ſuperior Being. This Sentiment is very frequent in the moſt ancient Writers both ſacred and prophane, and ſeems a diſtinguiſhing Character of the Writings of the greateſt Antiquity. The Word of the Lord was fulfill'd, is the principal Obſervation in the Hiſtory of the Old Teſtament, and [...] is the declared and moſt obvious Moral of the Iliad. If this great Moral be fit to be repreſented in Poetry, what Means ſo proper to make it evident, as this introducing Jupiter foretelling the Events which he had decreed?

VII.

‘VERSE 86. As ſome way-faring Man, &c.]’ The Diſcourſe of Jupiter to Juno being ended, ſhe aſcends to Heaven with wonderful Celerity, which the Poet explains by this Compa⯑riſon. On other Occaſions he has illuſtrated the Action of the Mind by ſenſible Images from the Motion of the Bodies; here he inverts the Caſe, and ſhews the great Velocity of Ju⯑no's Flight by comparing it to the Quickneſs of Thought. No other Compariſon could have equall'd the Speed of an heavenly Being. To render this more beautiful and exact, the Poet deſcribes a Traveller who revolves in his Mind the ſeveral Places which he has ſeen, and in an Inſtant paſſes in Imagination from one diſtant Part of the Earth to another. Milton ſeems to have had it in his Eye in that ele⯑vated Paſſage,

As the Senſe in which we have explain'd this Paſſage is exact⯑ly literal, as well as truly ſublime, one cannot but wonder what ſhould induce both Hobbes and Chapman to ramble ſo wide from it in their Tranſlations.

Chapman's is yet more foreign to the Subject,

VIII.

‘VERSE 102. Go thou, the Feaſts of Heav'n attend thy Call.]’ This is a Paſſage worthy our Obſervation: Homer feigns, that Themis, that is Juſtice, preſides over the Feaſts of the Gods; to let us know, that ſhe ought much more to pre⯑ſide over the Feaſts of Men. Euſtathius.

IX.

‘VERSE 114. Juno's Speech to the Gods.]’ It was no ſort of Exaggeration what the Ancients have affirm'd of Homer, that the Examples of all kinds of Oratory are to be found in his Works. The preſent Speech of Juno is a Maſterpiece in that ſort, which ſeems to ſay one thing, and perſuades another: For while ſhe is only declaring to the Gods the Orders of Ju⯑piter, at the time that ſhe tells 'em they muſt obey, ſhe fills them with a Reluctance to do it. By repreſenting ſo ſtrong⯑ly the Superiority of his Power, ſhe makes them uneaſy at it, and by particularly adviſing that God to ſubmit, whoſe Tem⯑per could leaſt brook it, ſhe incites him to downright Re⯑bellion. Nothing can be more ſly and artfully provoking, than that Stroke on the Death of his darling Son. Do thou, O Mars, teach Obedience to us all, for 'tis upon thee that Jupi⯑ter has put the ſevereſt Trial: Aſcalaphus thy Son lies ſlain by his means: Bear it with ſo much Temper and Moderation, that the World may not think he was thy Son.

X.

‘VERSE 134. To Fear and Flight.—]’ Homer does not ſay, that Mars commanded they ſhould join his Horſes to his Chariot, which Horſes were call'd Fear and Flight. Fear and Flight are not the Names of the Horſes of Mars, but the Names of two Furies in the Service of this God: It appears likewiſe by other Paſſages, that they were his Children, [213] Book 13. ℣. 299. This is a very ancient Miſtake; Euſta⯑thius mentions it as an Error of Antimachus, yet Hobbes and moſt others have fallen into it.

XI.

‘VERSE 164. Go wait the Thund'rer's Will.]’ 'Tis remark⯑able, that whereas it is familiar with the Poet to repeat his Errands and Meſſages, here he introduces Juno with very few Words, where ſhe carries a Diſpatch from Jupiter to Iris and Apollo. She only ſays, ‘"Jove commands you to attend him on Mount Ida,"’ and adds nothing of what had paſs'd between herſelf and her Conſort before. The reaſon of this Brevity is not only that ſhe is highly diſguſted with Jupiter, and ſo unwil⯑ling to tell her Tale from the Anguiſh of her Heart; but al⯑ſo becauſe Jupiter had given her no Commiſſion to relate ful⯑ly the Subject of their Diſcourſe; wherefore ſhe is cautious of declaring what poſſibly he would have concealed. Nei⯑ther does Jupiter himſelf in what follows reveal his Decrees: For he lets Apollo only ſo far into his Will, that he would have him diſcover and rout the Greeks: Their good Fortune, and the Succeſs which was to enſue, he hides from him, as one who favour'd the Cauſe of Troy. One may remark in this Paſſage Homer's various Conduct and Diſcretion concern⯑ing what ought to be put in Practice, or left undone; where⯑by his Reader may be inform'd how to regulate his own Af⯑fairs. Euſtathius.

XII.

Some have thought the Platonic Philoſophers drew from hence the Notion of their Triad (which the Chriſtian Platoniſts ſince imagined to be an obſcure Hint of the Sacred Trinity.) The Trias of Plato is well known, [...]. [214] In his Gorgias he tells us, [...] (autorem ſc. fuiſſe) [...]. See Proclus in Plat. Theol. lib. 1. c. 5. Lucian Philopatr. Ariſtotle de coelo, l. 1. c. 1. ſpeaking of the Ternarian Number from Pythago⯑ras, has theſe Words; [...]. From which Paſſage Trapezuntius endeavour'd ve⯑ry ſeriouſly to prove, that Ariſtotle had a perfect Knowledge of the Trinity. Duport (who furniſh'd me with this Note, and who ſeems to be ſenſible of the Folly of Trapezuntius) never⯑theleſs in his Gnomologia Homerica, or Compariſon of our Author's Sentences with thoſe of the Scripture, has placed oppoſite to this Verſe that of St. John. There are three who give Teſtimony in Heaven, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghoſt. I think this the ſtrongeſt Inſtance I ever met with of the manner of thinking of ſuch Men, whoſe too much Learning has made them mad.

Lactantius, de Falſ. Relig. lib. 1. cap. 11. takes this Fa⯑ble to be a Remain of ancient Hiſtory, importing, that the Empire of the then known World was divided among the three Brothers; to Jupiter the Oriental part, which was call'd Heaven, as the Region of Light, or the Sun: To Pluto the Occidental, or darker Regions: And to Neptune the So⯑vereignty of the Seas.

XIII.

‘VERSE 228. To elder Brothers.]’ Iris, that ſhe may not ſeem to upbraid Neptune with Weakneſs of Judgment, out of Regard to the Greatneſs and Dignity of his Perſon, does not ſay that Jupiter is ſtronger or braver; but attacking him from a Motive not in the leaſt invidious, Superiority of Age, ſhe ſays ſententiouſly, that the Furies wait upon our Elders. The Furies are ſaid to wait upon Men in a double Senſe: ei⯑ther for Evil, as they did upon Oreſtes after he had ſlain his Mother; or elſe for their good, as upon Elders when they are injur'd, to protect them and avenge their Wrongs. This [215] is an Inſtance that the Pagans look'd upon Birth-right as a Right divine. Euſtathius.

XIV.

‘VERSE 252. Elſe had our Wrath, &c.]’ This Repreſenta⯑tion of the Terrors which muſt have attended the Conflict of two ſuch mighty Powers as Jupiter and Neptune, whereby the Elements had been mix'd in Confuſion, and the whole Frame of Nature endangered, is imaged in theſe few Lines with a Nobleneſs ſuitable to the Occaſion. Milton has a Thought very like it in his fourth Book, where he repreſents what muſt have happen'd if Satan and Gabriel had encounter'd.

XV.

‘VERSE 274. Jove thinking of his Pains, they paſt away.]’ Euſtathius obſerves, that this is a very ſublime Repreſentation of the Power of Jupiter, to make Hector's Pains ceaſe from the Moment wherein Jupiter firſt turn'd his Thoughts to⯑wards him. Apollo finds him ſo far recover'd, as to be able to ſit up, and know his Friends. Thus much was the Work of Jupiter; the God of Health perfects the Cure.

XVI.

‘VERSE 298. As when the pamper'd Steed.]’ This Compa⯑riſon is repeated from the ſixth Book, and we are told that the ancient Criticks retain'd no more than the two firſt Ver⯑ſes and the four laſt in this Place, and that they gave the [216] Verſes two Marks; by the one (which was the Aſteriſm) they intimated, that the four Lines were very beautiful; but by the other (which was the Obelus) that they were ill placed. I believe an impartial Reader who conſiders the two Places will be of the ſame Opinion.

Taſſo has improv'd the Juſtneſs of this Simile in his ſixteenth Book, where Rinaldo returning from the Arms of Armida to Battel, is compared to the Steed that is taken from his Pa⯑ſtures and Mares to the Service of the War: The Reverſe of the Circumſtance better agreeing with the Occaſion.

XVII.

‘VERSE 311. For Fate preſerves them.]’ Dacier has a pretty Remark on this Paſſage, that Homer extended Deſtiny (that is, the Care of Providence) even over the Beaſts of the Field; an Opinion that agrees perfectly with true Theology. In the Book of Jonas, the Regard of the Creator extending to the meaneſt Rank of his Creatures, is ſtrongly expreſs'd in thoſe Words of the Almighty, where he makes his Compaſ⯑ſion to the Brute Beaſts one of the Reaſons againſt deſtroying Nineveh. Shall I not ſpare the great City, in which there are more than ſixſcore thouſand Perſons, and alſo much Cattel? And what is ſtill more parallel to this Paſſage, in St. Matth. Ch. 10. Are not two Sparrows ſold for a Farthing? And yet one of them ſhall not fall to the Ground, without your Father.

XVIII.

‘VERSE 363. But when aloft he ſhakes.]’ Apollo in this Paſſage by the mere ſhaking his Aegis, without acting offenſively, annoys and puts the Greeks into Diſorder. Eu⯑ſtathius thinks that ſuch a Motion might poſſibly create the ſame Confuſion, as hath been reported by Hiſtorians to proceed from Panic Fears: or that it might intimate ſome dreadful Confuſion in the Air, and a Noiſe iſſuing from thence; a Notion which ſeems to be warranted by Apollo's Outcry, which preſently follows in the ſame Verſe. But per⯑haps we need not go ſo far to account for this Fiction of Ho⯑mer: The Sight of a Hero's Armour often has the like Ef⯑fect in an Epic Poem: The Shield of Prince Arthur in Spen⯑cer works the ſame Wonders with this Aegis of Apollo.

XIX.

Here is one that falls under the Spear of Paris, ſmitten in the Extremity of his Shoulder, as he was flying. This gives occaſion to a pretty Obſervation in Euſtathius, that this is the only Greek who falls by a Wound in the Back, ſo careful is Homer of the Honour of his Countrymen. And this Remark will appear not ill grounded, if we except the Death of Eio⯑neus in the beginning of Lib. 6.

XX.

‘VERSE 396. For by the Gods, who ſlies, &c.]’ It ſometimes happens (ſays Longinus) that a Writer in ſpeaking of ſome Perſon, all on a ſudden puts himſelf in that other's Place, and acts his part; a Figure which marks the Impetuoſity and Hur⯑ry of Paſſion. It is this which Homer practiſes in theſe Verſes; the Poet ſtops his Narration, forgets his own Per⯑ſon, and inſtantly, without any Notice puts this precipitate [218] Menace into the Mouth of his furious and tranſported Hero. How muſt his Diſcourſe have languiſh'd, had he ſtay'd to tell us, Hector then ſaid theſe, or the like Words. Inſtead of which by this unexpected Tranſition he prevents the Rea⯑der, and the Tranſition is made before the Poet himſelf ſeems ſenſible he had made it. The true and proper Place for this Figure is when the Time preſſes, and when the Occaſion will not allow of any Delay: It is elegant then to paſs from one Perſon to another, as in that of Hecataeus. The Herald, extremely diſcontented at the Orders he had re⯑ceiv'd, gave command to the Heraclidae to withdraw.—It is no way in my Power to help you; if therefore you would not periſh entirely, and if you would not involve me too in your Ruin, depart, and ſeek a Retreat among ſome other People. Longinus, ch. 23.

XXI.

‘VERSE 416. As when aſhore an Infant ſtands.]’ This Si⯑mile of the Sand is inimitable; it is not eaſy to imagine any thing more exact and emphatical to deſcribe the tum⯑bling and confus'd Heap of a Wall, in a Moment. More⯑over the Compariſon here taken from Sand is the juſter, as it riſes from the very Place and Scene before us. For the Wall here demoliſhed, as it was founded on the Coaſt, muſt needs border on the Sand; wherefore the Similitude is bor⯑rowed immediately from the Subject Matter under View. Eu⯑ſtathius.

XXII.

‘VERSE 427, Oh Jove! if ever, &c.]’ The Form of Ne⯑ſtor's Prayer in this Place reſembles that of Chryſes in the firſt Book. And it is worth remarking, that the Poet well knew what Shame and Confuſion the reminding one of paſt Bene⯑fits is apt to produce. From the ſame Topick Achilles talks with his Mother, and Thetis herſelf accoſts Jove; and like⯑wiſe Phoenix where he holds a Parley with Achilles. This righteous Prayer hath its wiſhed Accompliſhment. Euſtathius.

XXIII.

‘VERSE 438. Preſumptuous Troy miſtook the Sign.]’ The Thunder of Jupiter is deſign'd as a Mark of his Acceptance of Neſtor's Prayers, and a Sign of his Favour to the Greeks. However, there being nothing in the Prodigy particular to the Greeks, the Trojans expound it in their own Favour, as they ſeem warranted by their preſent Succeſs. This Self⯑partiality of Men in appropriating to themſelves the Prote⯑ction of Heaven, has always been natural to them. In the ſame manner Virgil makes Turnus explain the Transforma⯑tion of the Trojan Ships into Nymphs, as an ill Omen to the Trojans.

Hiſtory furniſhes many Inſtances of Oracles, which by reaſon of this partial Interpretation, have prov'd an occaſion to lead Men into great Misfortunes: It was the Caſe of Craeſus in his Wars with Cyrus; and a like Miſtake engaged Pyrrhus to make War upon the Romans.

XXIV.

‘VERSE 448. On the Ships above, the Cars below.]’ This is a new ſort of Battel, which Homer has never before men⯑tion'd; the Greeks on their Ships, and the Trojans in their Chariots, fight as on a Plain. Euſtathius.

XXV.

‘VERSE 472. Nor could the Trojans—Force to the Fleet and Tents th' impervious way.]’ Homer always marks diſtinctly the Place of Battel; he here ſhews us clearly, that the Tro⯑jans attack'd the firſt Line of the Fleet that ſtood next the [220] Wall, or the Veſſels which were drawn foremoſt on the Land: Theſe Veſſels were a ſtrong Rampart to the Tents, which were pitch'd behind, and to the other Line of the Navy which ſtood nearer to the Sea; to penetrate therefore to the Tents, they muſt neceſſarily force the firſt Line, and defeat the Troops which defended it. Euſtathius.

XXVI.

‘VERSE 582. Death is the worſt, &c.]’ 'Tis with very great Addreſs, that to the Bitterneſs of Death, he adds the Advan⯑tages that were to accrue after it. And the Ancients are of Opinion, that 'twou'd be as advantageous for young Sol⯑diers to read this Leſſon, conciſe as it is, as all the Vo⯑lumes of Tyrtaeus, wherein he endeavours to raiſe the Spirits of his Countrymen. Homer makes a noble Enumeration of the Parts wherein the Happineſs of a City conſiſts. For ha⯑ving told us in another Place, the three great Evils to which a Town, when taken, is ſubject; the Slaughter of the Men, the Deſtruction of the Place by Fire; the leading of their Wives and Children into Captivity: now he reckons up the Bleſſings that are contrary to thoſe Calamities. To the Slaughter of the Men indeed he makes no Oppoſition; be⯑cauſe it is not neceſſary to the Well-being of a City, that every Individual ſhould be ſaved, and not a Man ſlain. Euſtathius.

XXVII.

‘VERSE 590. The godlike Ajax next.]’ The Oration of He⯑ctor is more ſplendid and ſhining than that of Ajax, and alſo more ſolemn, from his Sentiments concerning the Favour and Aſſiſtance of Jupiter. But that of Ajax is the more po⯑litick, fuller of Management, and apter to perſuade: For it abounds with no leſs than ſeven generous Arguments to inſpire Reſolution. He exhorts his People even to Death, from the Danger to which their Navy was expoſed, which if once conſumed, they were never like to get home. And as [221] the Trojans were bid to die, ſo he bids his Men dare to die likewiſe: and indeed with great Neceſſity, for the Trojans may recruit after the Engagement, but for the Greeks, they had no better way than to hazard their Lives; and if they ſhould gain nothing elſe by it, yet at leaſt they would have a ſpeedy Diſpatch, not a lingring and dilatory Deſtruction. Euſtathius.

XXVIII.

‘VERSE 677. And flank the Navy with a Brazen Wall.]’ The Poet has built the Grecians a different ſort of Wall from what they had before, out of their Arms; and perhaps one might ſay, that 'twas from this Paſſage Apollo borrow'd that Oracle which he gave to the Athenians about their Wall of Wood; in like manner, the Spartans were ſaid to have a Wall of Bones: If ſo, we muſt allow the God not a little obliged to the Poet. Euſtathius.

XXIX.

‘VERSE 723. He raiſes Hector, &c.]’ This Picture of He⯑ctor, impuls'd by Jupiter, is a very finiſh'd Piece, and excels all the Drawings of this Hero which Homer has given us in ſo various Attitudes. He is here repreſented as an Inſtrument in the Hand of Jupiter, to bring about thoſe Deſigns the God had long projected: And as his fatal Hour now ap⯑proaches, Jove is willing to recompence his haſty Death with this ſhort-liv'd Glory. Accordingly this being the laſt Scene of Victory he is to appear in, the Poet introduces him with all imaginable Pomp, and adorns him with all the Terror of a Conqueror: His Eyes ſparkle with Fire, his Mouth foams with Fury, his Figure is compared to the God of War, his Rage is equall'd to a Conflagration and a Storm, and the Deſtru⯑ction he cauſes is reſembled to that which a Lyon makes among the Herds. The Poet, by this Heap of Compariſons, raiſes the Idea of the Hero higher than any ſingle Deſcripti⯑on could reach.

XXX.

‘VERSE 736.—His Fate was near—Due to ſtern Pallas.]’ It may be ask'd, what Pallas has to do with the Fates, or what Power has ſhe over them? Homer ſpeaks thus, becauſe Minerva has already reſolv'd to ſuccour Achilles, and deceive Hector in the Combate between theſe two Heroes, as we find in Book 22. Properly ſpeaking, Pallas is nothing but the Knowledge and Wiſdom of Jove, and it is Wiſdom which preſides over the Councels of his Providence; therefore ſhe may be look'd upon as drawing all things to the fatal Term to which they are decreed. Dacier.

XXXI.

‘VERSE 752. Burſts as a Wave, &c.]’ Longinus, obſerving that oftentimes the principal Beauty of Writing conſiſts in the judicious aſſembling together of the great Circumſtances, and the Strength with which they are mark'd in the proper Place, chuſes this Paſſage of Homer as a plain Inſtance of it. ‘"Where (ſays that noble Critick) in deſcribing the Terror of a Tempeſt, he takes care to expreſs whatever are the Accidents of moſt Dread and Horror in ſuch a Situation: He is not content to tell us that the Mariners were in dan⯑ger, but he brings them before our Eyes, as in a Picture, upon the Point of being every Moment overwhelm'd by every Wave; nay the very Words and Syllables of the De⯑ſcription give us an Image of their Peril."’ He ſhews, that a Poet of leſs Judgment would amuſe himſelf in leſs impor⯑tant Circumſtances, and ſpoil the whole Effect of the Image by minute, ill-choſen, or ſuperfluous Particulars. Thus Aratus endeavouring to refine upon that Line,

He turn'd it thus,

[223] Which, by flouriſhing upon the Thought, has loſt the Lof⯑tineſs and Terror of it, and is ſo far from improving the Image, that it leſſens and vaniſhes in his Management. By confining the Danger to a ſingle Line, he has ſcarce left the Shadow of it; and indeed the word preſerves takes away even that. The ſame Critick produces a Fragment of an old Poem on the Arimaſpians, written in this falſe Taſte, whoſe Author he doubts not imagin'd he had ſaid ſomething won⯑derful in the following affected Verſes. I have done my beſt to give 'em the ſame turn, and believe there are thoſe, who will not think 'em bad ones.

XXXII.

‘VERSE 796. Neſtor's Speech.]’ This popular Harangue of Neſtor is juſtly extoll'd as the ſtrongeſt and moſt perſuaſive Piece of Oratory imaginable. It contains in it every Motive by which Men can be affected; the Preſervation of their Wives and Children, the ſecure Poſſeſſion of their Fortunes, the Reſpect of their living Parents, and the due Regard for the Memory of thoſe that were departed: By theſe he di⯑verts the Grecians from any Thoughts of Flight in the Ar⯑ticle of extreme Peril. Euſtathius.

This noble Exhortation is finely imitated by Taſſo, Jeru⯑ſalem. l. 20.

XXXIII.

‘VERSE 814. Firſt of the Field, great Ajax.]’ In this very Book, Homer, to raiſe the Valour of Hector, gives him Nep⯑tune for an Antagoniſt; and to raiſe that of Ajax, he firſt oppoſed to him Hector, ſupported by Apollo, and now the ſame Hector impell'd and ſeconded by Jupiter himſelf. Theſe are Strokes of a Maſter-hand. Euſtathius.

XXXIV.

‘VERSE 824. Drives four fair Courſers, &c.]’ The Com⯑pariſon which Homer here introduces, is a Demonſtrati⯑on, that the Art of mounting and managing Horſes was brought to ſo great a Perfection in theſe early Times, that one Man could manage four at once, and leap from one to the other even when they run full ſpeed. But ſome object, that the Cuſtom of Riding was not known in Greece at the time of the Trojan War: Beſides, they ſay the [225] Compariſon is not juſt, for the Horſes are ſaid to run full ſpeed, whereas the Ships ſtand firm and unmov'd. Had Ho⯑mer put the Compariſon in the Mouth of one of his Heroes, the Objection had been juſt, and he guilty of an Inconſi⯑ſtency; but it is he himſelf who ſpeaks: Saddle-Horſes were in uſe in his Age, and any Poet may be allow'd to illuſtrate Pieces of Antiquity by Images familiar to his own Times. This I hope is ſufficient for the firſt Objection; nor is the ſe⯑cond more reaſonable than this; for it is not abſolutely ne⯑ceſſary that Compariſons ſhould correſpond in every Particu⯑lar; it ſuffices if there be a general Reſemblance. This is only introduced to ſhew the Agility of Ajax, who paſſes ſwiftly from one Veſſel to another, and is therefore entirely juſt. Euſtathius.

XXXV.

‘VERSE 856. The ſame that dead Proteſilaus bore.]’ Homer feigns that Hector laid hold on the Ship of the dead Prote⯑ſilaus, rather than that of any other, that he might not diſ⯑grace any of his Grecian Generals. Euſtathius.

XXXVI.

Homer adds this with a great deal of Art and Prudence, to anſwer beforehand all the Objections which he well foreſaw might be made, becauſe Hector never till now once attacks the Grecians in their Camp, or endeavours to burn their Na⯑vy. He was retain'd by the Elders of Troy, who frozen with Fear at the Sight of Achilles, never ſuffer'd him to march from the Ramparts. Our Author forgets nothing that has the Reſemblance of Truth; but he had yet a farther Reaſon for inſerting this, as it exalts the Glory of his principal Hero: Theſe Elders of Troy thought it leſs difficult to defeat the Greeks, tho' defended with ſtrong Entrenchments, while Achilles was not with them; than to overcome them without [226] Entrenchments when he aſſiſted them. And this is the reaſon that they prohibited Hector before, and permit him now, to ſally upon the Enemy. Dacier.

XXXVII.

‘VERSE 877. But now Jove calls to Arms, &c.]’ Hector ſeems to be ſenſible of an extraordinary Impulſe from Hea⯑ven, ſignified by theſe Words, the moſt mighty Hand of Jove puſhing him on. 'Tis no more than any other Perſon would be ready to imagine, who ſhould riſe from a State of Diſtreſs or Indolence, into one of good Fortune, Vigour, and Activi⯑ty. Euſtathius.

XXXVIII.

‘VERSE 890. The Speech of Ajax.]’ There is great Strength, Cloſeneſs, and Spirit in this Speech, and one might (like many Criticks) employ a whole Page in extolling and ad⯑miring it in general Terms. But ſure the perpetual Rap⯑ture of ſuch Commentators, who are always giving us Ex⯑clamations inſtead of Criticiſms, may be a Mark of great Ad⯑miration, but of little Judgment. Of what Uſe is this ei⯑ther to a Reader who has a Taſte, or to one who has not? To admire a fine Paſſage is what the former will do without us, and what the latter cannot be taught to do by us. How⯑ever we ought gratefully to acknowledge the good Nature of moſt People, who are not only pleaſed with this ſuperficial Applauſe given to fine Paſſages, but are likewiſe inclined to transfer to the Critick, who only points at theſe Beauties, part of the Admiration juſtly due to the Poet. This is a cheap and eaſy way to Fame, which many Writers ancient and modern have purſued with great Succeſs. Formerly in⯑deed this ſort of Authors had Modeſty, and were humbly content to call their Performances only Florilegia or Poſies: But ſome of late have paſs'd ſuch Collections on the World for Criticiſms of great Depth and Learning, and ſeem to expect the ſame Flowers ſhould pleaſe us better, in theſe pal⯑try [227] Noſegays of their own making up, than in the native Gardens where they grew. As this Practice of extolling without giving Reaſons, is very convenient for moſt Wri⯑ters; ſo it excellently ſuits the Ignorance or Lazineſs of moſt Readers, who will come into any Sentiment rather than take the trouble of refuting it. Thus the Complement is mutual: For as ſuch Criticks do not tax their Readers with any thought to underſtand them, ſo their Readers in Return advance nothing in Oppoſition to ſuch Criticks. They may go roundly on, admiring and exclaiming in this manner; What an exquiſite Spirit of Poetry—How beautiful a Circumſtance—What Delicacy of Sentiments—With what Art has the Poet—In how ſublime and juſt a manner—How finely imagined—How wonderfully beautiful and poetical—And ſo proceed, without one Reaſon to interrupt the Courſe of their Eloquence, moſt comfortably and ignorantly Apoſtrophiſing to the end of the Chapter.