I.

WE have here a new Scene of Action opened; the Poet has hitherto given us an Account of what happened by Day only: the two following Books relate the Adventures of the Night.

It may be thought that Homer has crowded a great many Actions into a very ſhort Time. In the ninth Book a Coun⯑cil is conven'd, an Embaſſy ſent, a conſiderable Time paſſes in the Speeches and Replies of the Embaſſadors and Achilles: In the tenth Book a ſecond Council is call'd, after this a De⯑bate is held, Dolon is intercepted, Diomed and Ulyſſes enter into the Enemy's Camp, kill Rheſus, and bring away his Hor⯑ſes: And all this done in the narrow Compaſs of one Night.

It muſt therefore be remember'd that the ninth Book takes up the firſt Part of the Night only; that after the firſt Council was diſſolv'd, there paſs'd ſome time before the ſecond was ſummon'd, as appears by the Leaders being awa⯑kened by Menelaus. So that it was almoſt Morning before Diomed and Ulyſſes ſet out upon their Deſign, which is very evident from the Words of Ulyſſes, Book. 10. ℣. 251.

[46]So that altho' a great many Incidents are introduc'd, yet eve⯑ry thing might eaſily have been perform'd in the allotted Time.

II.

‘VERSE 7. From Thracia's Shore.]’ Homer has been ſup⯑pos'd by Eratoſthenes and others, to have been guilty of an Error, in ſaying that Zephyrus or the Weſt Wind blows from Thrace, whereas in Truth it blows toward it. But the Poet ſpeaks ſo either becauſe it is fabled to be the Rendezvous of all the Winds; or with reſpect to the particular Situation of Troy and the Aegean Sea. Either of theſe Replies are ſufficient to ſolve that Objection.

The particular Parts of this Compariſon agree admirably with the Deſign of Homer, to expreſs the Diſtraction of the Greeks: the two Winds repreſenting the different Opinions of the Armies, one Part of which were inclin'd to return, the other to ſtay. Euſtathius.

III.

‘VERSE 15. But bid in Silence.]’ The Reaſon why Agamem⯑non commands his Heralds to ſummon the Leaders in Silence, is for fear the Enemy ſhould diſcover their Conſternation, by reaſon of their Nearneſs, or perceive what their Deſigns were in this Extremity. Euſtathius.

IV.

‘VERSE 23. Agamemnon's Speech.]’ The Criticks are divided in their Opinion whether this Speech, which is word for word the ſame with that he makes in Lib. 2. be only a Feint to try the Army, as it is there, or the real Sentiments of the Ge⯑neral. Dionyſius of Halicarnaſſus explains it as the former, with whom Madam Dacier concurs; ſhe thinks they muſt be both counterfeit, becauſe they are both the ſame, and believes Homer would have varied them, had the Deſign been diffe⯑rent. She takes no notice that Euſtathius is of the contrary [47] Opinion; as is alſo Monſieur de la Motte, who argues as if he had read him. ‘"Agamemnon (ſays he) in the ſecond Iliad thought himſelf aſſured of Victory from the Dream which Jupiter had ſent to him, and in that Confidence was deſirous to bring the Greeks to a Battel: But in the ninth Book his Circumſtances are changed, he is in the utmoſt Diſtreſs and Deſpair upon his Defeat, and therefore his Propoſal to raiſe the Siege is in all Probability ſincere. If Homer had intended we ſhould think otherwiſe, he would have told us ſo, as he did on the former Occaſion; and ſome of the Officers would have ſuſpected a Feint the ra⯑ther, becauſe they had been impos'd upon by the ſame Speech before. But none of them ſuſpect him at all. Dio⯑med thinks him ſo much in earneſt as to reproach his Cow⯑ardice, Neſtor applauds Diomed's Liberty, and Agamemnon makes not the leaſt Defence for himſelf.’

Dacier anſwers, that Homer had no Occaſion to tell us this was counterfeit, becauſe the Officers could not but remember it to have been ſo before; and as for the Anſwers of Diomed and Neſtor, they only carry on the ſame Feint, as Dionyſius has prov'd, whoſe Reaſons may be ſeen in the following Note.

I do not pretend to decide upon this Point; but which way ſoever it be, I think Agamemnon's Deſign was equally anſwer'd by repeating the ſame Speech: So that the Repeti⯑tion at leaſt is not to be blamed in Homer. What obliged Agamemnon to that Feint in the ſecond Book was the Hatred he had incurred in the Army by being the Cauſe of Achilles's Departure; this made it but a neceſſary Precaution in him to try, before he came to a Battel, whether the Greeks were diſpos'd to it? And it was equally neceſſary, in caſe the E⯑vent ſhould prove unſucceſsful, to free himſelf from the Odi⯑um of being the occaſion of it. Therefore when they were now actually defeated, to repeat the ſame Words, was the readieſt way to put them in mind that he had propos'd the ſame Advice to them before the Battel; and to make it ap⯑pear unjuſt that their ill Fortune ſhould be charged upon him. See the 5th and 8th Notes on the ſecond Iliad.

V.

‘VERSE 43. The Speech of Diomed.]’ I ſhall here tranſlate the Criticiſm of Dionyſius on this Paſſage. He asks, ‘"What can be the Drift of Diomed, when he inſults Agamemnon in his Griefs and Diſtreſſes? For what Diomed here ſays ſeems not only very ill tim'd, but inconſiſtent with his own Opinion, and with the Reſpect he had ſhewn in the be⯑ginning of this very Speech.If I upbraid thee, Prince, thy Wrath with-hold, The Laws of Council bid my Tongue be bold.This is the Introduction of a Man in Temper, who is willing to ſoften and Excuſe the Liberty of what is to fol⯑low, and what Neceſſity only obliges him to utter. But he ſubjoins a Reſentment of the Reproach the King had formerly thrown upon him, and tells him that Jupiter had given him Power and Dominion without Courage and Vir⯑tue. Theſe are things which agree but ill together, that Diomed ſhould upbraid Agamemnon in his Adverſity with paſt Injuries, after he had endur'd his Reproaches with ſo much Moderation, and had reproved Sthenelus ſo warm⯑ly for the contrary Practice in the fourth Book. If any one anſwer, that Diomed was warranted in this Freedom by the Bravery of his warlike Behaviour ſince that Re⯑proach, he ſuppoſes this Hero very ignorant how to de⯑mean himſelf in Proſperity. The Truth is, this whole Accuſation of Diomed's is only a Feint to ſerve the De⯑ſigns of Agamemnon. For being deſirous to perſuade the Greeks againſt their Departure, he effects that Deſign by this counterfeited Anger, and Licenſe of Speech: And ſeeming to reſent, that Agamemnon ſhould be capable of imagining the Army would return to Greece, he artificially makes uſe of theſe Reproaches to cover his Argument. This is farther confirm'd by what follows, when he bids Agamemnon return, if he pleaſes, and affirms that the Gre⯑cians will ſtay without him. Nay he carries the Matter ſo [49] far, as to boaſt, that if all the reſt ſhould depart, himſelf and Sthenelus alone would continue the War, which would be extremely childiſh and abſurd in any other View than this.’

VI.

‘VERSE 73. The Speech of Neſtor.]’ ‘"Neſtor (continues Dionyſius) ſeconds the Oration of Diomed: We ſhall per⯑ceive the Artifice of his Diſcourſe, if we reflect to how lit⯑tle Purpoſe it would be without this Deſign. He praiſes Diomed for what he has ſaid, but does it not without de⯑claring, that he had not ſpoken fully to the Purpoſe, and fallen ſhort in ſome Points, which he aſcribes to his Youth, and promiſes to ſupply them. Then after a long Pream⯑ble, when he has turn'd himſelf ſeveral ways, as if he was ſporting in a new and uncommon Vein of Oratory, he con⯑cludes by ordering the Watch to their Stations, and advi⯑ſing Agamemnon to invite the Elders of the Army to a Supper, there, out of many Counſels, to chuſe the beſt. All this at firſt Sight appears abſurd: But we muſt know that Neſtor too ſpeaks in Figure. Diomed ſeems to quarrel with Agamemnon, purely to gratify him; but Ne⯑ſtor praiſes his Liberty of Speech, as it were to vindicate a real Quarrel with the King. The End of all this is only to move Agamemnon to ſupplicate Achilles; and to that End he ſo much commends the young Man's Freedom. In propoſing to call a Council only of the eldeſt, he con⯑ſults the Dignity of Agamemnon, that he might not be expos'd to make this Condeſcenſion before the younger Officers. And he concludes by an artful Inference of the abſolute Neceſſity of applying to Achilles from the preſent Poſture of their Affairs.See what a Blaze from hoſtile Tents aſpires, How near our Fleets approach the Trojan Fires!This is all Neſtor ſays at this time before the general Aſ⯑ſembly of the Greeks; but in his next Speech, when the Elders only are preſent, he explains the whole Matter at [50] large, and openly declares that they muſt have Recourſe to Achilles.’ Dion. Hal. [...], p. 2.

Plutarch de aud. Poetis, takes notice of this Piece of Deco⯑rum in Neſtor, who when he intended to move for a Media⯑tion with Achilles, choſe not to do it in publick, but propos'd a private Meeting of the Chiefs to that End. If what theſe two great Authors have ſaid be conſider'd, there will be no room for the trivial Objection ſome Moderns have made to this Propoſal of Neſtor's, as if in the preſent Diſtreſs he did no more than impertinently adviſe them to go to Supper.

VII.

‘VERSE 53. They gave thee Sceptres, &c.]’ This is the Lan⯑guage of a brave Man, to affirm and ſay boldly, that Cou⯑rage is above Scepters and Crowns. Scepters and Crowns were indeed in former Times not hereditary, but the Recom⯑pence of Valour. With what Art and Haughtineſs Diomed ſets himſelf indirectly above Agamemnon? Euſtathius.

VIII.

‘VERSE 62. And neareſt to the Main.]’ There is a ſecret Stroke of Satyr in theſe Words: Diomed tells the King that his Squadron lies next the Sea, inſinuating that they were the moſt diſtant from the Battel, and readieſt for Flight. Euſtathius.

IX.

‘VERSE 68. God bade us fight, and 'twas with God we came.]’ This is literal from the Greek, and therein may be ſeen the Style of holy Scripture, where 'tis ſaid that they come with God, or that they are not come without God, meaning that they did not come without his Order: Numquid ſine Domino aſcendi in terram iſtam? ſays Rabſhekah to Hezekiah in Iſaiah 36. ℣. 8. This Paſſage ſeems to be very beautiful. Homer adds it to ſhew that the Valour of Diomed, which puts him upon remaining alone with Sthenelus, when all the Greeks [51] were gone, is not a Raſh and mad Boldneſs, but a reaſon⯑able one, and founded on the Promiſes of God himſelf, who cannot lye. Dacier.

X.

‘VERSE 73. Oh truly great.]’ Neſtor could do no leſs than commend Diomed's Valour, he had lately been a Witneſs of it when he was preſerv'd from falling into the Enemy's Hands till he was reſcu'd by Diomed. Euſtathius.

XI.

‘VERSE 87. Curs'd is the Man.]’ Neſtor, ſays the ſame Author, very artfully brings in theſe Words as a general Maxim, in order to diſpoſe Agamemnon to a Reconciliation with Achilles: He delivers it in general Terms, and leaves the King to make the Application. This Paſſage is tranſla⯑ted with Liberty, for the Original comprizes a great deal in a very few Words, [...], [...], [...]; it will be proper to give a particular Explication of each of theſe; [...], ſays Euſtathius, ſignifies one who is a Vagabond or Fo⯑reigner. The Athenians kept a Regiſter, in which all that were born were enroll'd, whence it eaſily appear'd who were Citizens, or not; [...] therefore ſignifies one who is de⯑priv'd of the Privilege of a Citizen. [...] is one that had forfeited all Title to be protected by the Laws of his Coun⯑try. [...], one that has no Habitation, or rather one that was not permitted to partake of any Family Sacrifice. For [...] is a Family Goddeſs; and Jupiter ſometimes is cal⯑led [...].

There is a ſort of Gradation in theſe Words. [...] ſignifies a Man that has loſt the Privileges of his Country; [...] thoſe of his own Tribe, and [...] thoſe of his own Family.

XII.

‘VERSE 94. Between the Trench and Wall.]’ It is almoſt impoſſible to make ſuch Particularities as theſe appear with any tolerable Elegance in Poetry: And as they cannot be rais'd, ſo neither muſt they be omitted. This particular Space here mention'd between the Trench and Wall, is what we muſt carry in our Mind thro' this and the following Book: Otherwiſe we ſhall be at a loſs to know the exact Scene of the Actions and Councils that follow.

XIII.

‘VERSE 119. The Fires they light.]’ They lighted up a Fire that they might not ſeem to be under any Conſternation, but to be upon their Guard againſt any Alarm. Euſtathius.

XIV.

‘VERSE 124. When Thirſt and Hunger ceaſt.]’ The Con⯑duct of Homer in this Place is very remarkable; he does not fall into a long Deſcription of the Entertainment, but complies with the Exigence of Affairs, and paſſes on to the Conſultation. Euſtathius.

XV.

‘VERSE 138. And make the Wiſdom thine.]’ Euſtathius thought that Homer ſaid this, becauſe in Councils, as in the Army, all is attributed to the Princes, and the whole Honour aſcrib'd to them: but this is by no means Homer's Thought. What he here ſays, is a Maxim drawn from profoundeſt Philoſo⯑phy. That which often does Men the moſt harm, is Envy, and the Shame of yielding to Advice, which proceeds from others. There is more Greatneſs and Capacity in following good Ad⯑vice, than in propoſing it; by executing it, we render it our own, and we raviſh even the Property of it from its Au⯑thor; and Euſtathius ſeems to incline to this Thought, when [53] he afterwards ſays, Homer makes him that follows good Ad⯑vice, equal to him that gives it; but he has not fully ex⯑preſs'd himſelf. Dacier.

XVI.

‘VERSE 140. At once my preſent Judgment and my paſt.]’ Neſtor here by the word [...], means the Advice he gave at the time of the Quarrel in the firſt Book: He ſays, as it was his Opinion then that Agamemnon ought not to diſgrace Achilles, ſo after the matureſt Deliberation, he finds no Reaſon to alter it. Neſtor here launches out into the Praiſes of A⯑chilles, which is a ſecret Argument to induce Agamemnon to regain his Friendſhip, by ſhewing the Importance of it. Euſtathius.

XVII.

‘VERSE 151. This wondrous Hero.]’ It is remarkable that Agamemnon here never uſes the Name of Achilles: tho' he is reſolv'd to court his Friendſhip, yet he cannot bear the men⯑tion of his Name. The Impreſſion which the Diſſention made, is not yet worn off, tho' he expatiates in Commenda⯑tion of his Valour. Euſtathius.

XVIII.

‘VERSE 155. If Gifts immenſe his mighty Soul can bow.]’ The Poet, ſays Euſtathius, makes a wiſe Choice of the Gifts that are to be proffer'd to Achilles. Had he been ambitious of Wealth, there are golden Tripods, and ten Talents of Gold to bribe his Reſentment. If he had been addicted to the Fair Sex, there was a King's Daughter and ſeven fair Cap⯑tives to win his Favour. Or if he had been ambitious of Greatneſs, there were ſeven wealthy Cities and a Kingly Power to court him to a Reconciliation: But he takes this way to ſhew us that his Anger was ſtronger than all his o⯑ther Paſſions. It is farther obſervable, that Agamemnon pro⯑miſes theſe Preſents at three different times; firſt, at this In⯑ſtant; [54] ſecondly, on the taking of Troy; and laſtly, after their Return to Greece. This Diviſion in ſome degree mul⯑tiplies them. Dacier.

XIX.

‘VERSE 157. Ten weighty Talents.]’ The ancient Criticks have blamed one of the Verſes in the Enumeration of theſe Preſents, as not ſufficiently flowing and harmonious, the Pauſe is ill placed, and one word does not fall eaſily into the other. This will appear very plain if we compare it with a more numerous Verſe.

The Ear immediately perceives the Muſick of the former Line, every Syllable glides ſmoothly away, without offending the Ear with any ſuch Roughneſs, as is found in the ſecond. The firſt runs as ſwiftly as the Wind which it deſcribes; but the latter is a broken interrupted uneven Verſe. But it is certainly pardonable in this Place, where the Muſick of Poe⯑try is not neceſſary; the Mind is entirely taken up in learn⯑ing what Preſents Agamemnon intended to make Achilles: and is not at leiſure to regard the Ornaments of Verſification; and even thoſe Pauſes are not without their Beauties, as they would of Neceſſity cauſe a Stop in the Delivery, and ſo give time for each Particular to ſink into the Mind of Achilles. Euſtathius.

XX.

‘VERSE 159. Sev'n ſacred Tripods.]’ There were two kinds of Tripods: in the one they uſed to boil Water, the other was entirely for Shew, to mix Wine and Water in, ſays Athenaeus: the firſt were called [...], or Cauldrons, for common Uſe, and made to bear the Fire; the other were [...], and made chiefly for Ornament. It may be ask'd why this could be a proper Preſent for Achilles, who was a martial Man, and [55] regarded nothing but Arms? It may be anſwer'd, that theſe Preſents were very well ſuited to the Perſon to whom they were ſent, as Tripods in ancient Days were the uſual Prizes in Games, and they were given by Achilles himſelf in thoſe which he exhibited in Honour of Patroclus: the ſame may be ſaid of the female Captives, which are alſo among the Prizes in the Games of Patroclus. Euſtathius.

XXI.

‘VERSE 161. Twelve Steeds unmatch'd.]’ From hence it is evident that Games us'd to be celebrated in the Grecian Ar⯑my during the Time of War; perhaps in Honour of the de⯑ceas'd Heroes. For had Agamemnon ſent Achilles Horſes that had been victorious before the beginning of the Tro⯑jan War, they would by this time have been too old to be of any Value. Euſtathius.

XXII

‘VERSE 189. Laodice and Iphigenia, &c.]’ Theſe are the Names of Agamemnon's Daughters, among which we do not find Electra. But ſome affirm, ſays Euſtathius, that Laodice and Electra are the ſame, (as Iphianaſſa is the ſame with Iphigenia) and ſhe was called ſo, either by way of Sir-name, or by reaſon of her Complexion, which was [...], flava; or by way of Deriſion [...] quaſi [...], becauſe ſhe was an old Maid, as appears from Euripides, who ſays that ſhe remain'd long a Virgin.

And in Sophocles ſhe ſays of herſelf, [...], I wander a diſconſolate unmarry'd Virgin, which ſhews that it was ever look'd upon as a Diſgrace to continue long ſo.

XXIII.

‘VERSE 192. I ask no Preſents—My ſelf will give the Dow'r.]’ For in Greece the Bridegroom, before he marry'd, was obli⯑ged to make two Preſents, one to his betroth'd Wife, and the other to his Father in Law. This Cuſtom is very anci⯑ent; it was practiſed by the Hebrews in the time of the Pa⯑triarchs. Abraham's Servant gave Necklaces and Ear-rings to Rebecca, whom he demanded for Iſaac. Geneſis 24. 22. Shechem Son of Hamor ſays to Jacob and his Sons, whoſe Siſter he was deſirous to eſpouſe, ‘"Ask me never ſo much Dowry and Gifts.’ Geneſis 34. 12. For the Dowry was for the Daughter. This Preſent ſerv'd for her Dowry, and the other Preſents were for the Father. In the firſt Book of Sa⯑muel 18. 25. Saul makes them ſay to David, who by reaſon of his Poverty ſaid he could not be Son in Law to the King: ‘"The King deſireth not any Dowry.’ And in the two laſt Paſſages, we ſee the Preſents were commonly regulated by the Father of the Bride. There is no mention in Homer of any Preſent made to the Father, but only of that which was given to the married Daughter, which was call'd [...]. The Dowry which the Father gave to his Daughter was called [...]: Wherefore Agamemnon ſays here [...]. Dacier.

XXIV.

‘VERSE 209. Pluto, the grizly God, who never ſpares.]’ The meaning of this may be gather'd from Aeſchylus, cited here by Euſtathius.

Death is the only God who is not mov'd by Offerings, whom you cannot conquer by Sacrifices and Oblations, and there⯑fore he is the only God to whom no Altar is erected, and no Hymns are ſung.

XXV.

‘VERSE 221. Let Phoenix lead.]’ How comes it to paſs that Phoenix is in the Grecian Camp: when undoubtedly he retir'd with his Pupil Achilles? Euſtathius ſays the Ancients con⯑jectur'd that he came to the Camp to ſee the laſt Battel: and indeed nothing is more natural to imagine, than that Achilles would be impatient to know the Event of the Day, when he was himſelf abſent from the Fight: and as his Revenge and Glory were to be ſatisfied by the ill Succeſs of the Grecians, It is highly probable that he ſent Phoenix to enquire after it. Euſtathius farther obſerves, Phoenix was not an Embaſſador, but only the Conductor of the Embaſſy. This is evident from the Words themſelves, which are all along deliver'd in the dual Number; and farther from Achilles's requiring Phoenix to ſtay with him when the other two departed.

XXVI.

‘VERSE 222. Great Ajax next, and Ithacus the ſage.]’ The Choice of theſe Perſons is made with a great deal of Judgment. Achilles could not but reverence the venerable Phoenix his Guardian and Tutor. Ajax and Ulyſſes had been diſgrac'd in the firſt Book, Line 145, as well as he, and were therefore Inſtances of that Forgiveneſs they came to ask: be⯑ſides it was the greateſt Honour that could be done to Achilles to ſend the moſt worthy Perſonages in the Army to him. Ulyſſes was inferior to none in Eloquence but to Neſtor. Ajax was ſecond to none in Valour but to Achilles.

Ajax might have an Influence over him as a Relation, by Deſcent from Aeacus, Ulyſſes as an Orator: To theſe are join'd Hodius and Eurybates, two Heralds, which tho it were not cuſtomary, yet was neceſſary in this Place, both to cer⯑tify Achilles that this Embaſſage was the Act of Agamemnon himſelf, and alſo to make theſe Perſons who had been Wit⯑neſſes before God and Man of the Wrong done to Achilles in reſpect to Briſeis, Witneſſes alſo of the Satisfaction given him. Euſtathius.

XXVII.

‘VERSE 235. Much he advis'd them all, Ulyſſes moſt.]’ There is a great Propriety in repreſenting Neſtor as ſo par⯑ticularly applying himſelf on this Occaſion to Ulyſſes. Tho' he of all Men had the leaſt need of his Inſtructions; yet it is highly natural for one wiſe Man to talk moſt to another.

XXVIII.

‘VERSE 246. Pleas'd with the ſolemn Harp's harmonious Sound.]’ ‘"Homer (ſays Plutarch) to prove what an excellent Uſe may be made of Muſick, feign'd Achilles to compoſe by this means the Wrath he had conceiv'd againſt Aga⯑memnon. He ſung to his Harp the noble Actions of the Valiant, and the Atchievements of Heroes and Demigods, a Subject worthy of Achilles. Homer moreover teaches us in this Fiction the proper Seaſon for Muſick, when a Man is at leiſure and unemploy'd in greater Affairs. For Achilles, ſo valorous as he was, had retir'd from Action thro' his Diſpleaſure to Agamemnon. And nothing was better ſuited to the martial Diſpoſition of this Hero, than theſe heroick Songs, that prepared him for the Deeds and Toils he af⯑terwards undertook, by the Celebration of the like in thoſe who had gone before him. Such was the ancient Muſick, and to ſuch Purpoſes it was apply'd.’ Plut. of Mu⯑ſick. The ſame Author relates in the Life of Alexander, that when the Lyre of Paris was offer'd to that Prince, he made anſwer, ‘"He had little Value for it, but much deſired that of Achilles, on which he ſung the Actions of Heroes in former Times.’

XXIX.

‘VERSE 261. Princes all hail!]’ This ſhort Speech is won⯑derfully proper to the Occaſion, and to the Temper of the Speaker. One is under a great Expectation of what A⯑chilles [59] will ſay at the Sight of theſe Heroes, and I know no⯑thing in Nature that could ſatisfy it, but the very thing he here accoſts them with.

XXX.

‘VERSE 268. Mix purer Wine.]’ The Meaning of this word [...] is very dubious; ſome ſay it ſignifies warm Wine, from [...], ferveo: According to Ariſtotle, it is an Ad⯑verb, and implies to mix Wine quickly. And others think it ſignifies pure Wine. In this laſt Senſe Herodotus uſes it. ‘ [...].’ Which in Engliſh is thus: ‘"When the Spartans have an Inclination to drink their Wine pure and not diluted, they propoſe to drink after the Manner of the Scythians; ſome of whom coming Embaſſadors to Sparta, taught Cleomenes to drink his Wine unmix'd.’ I think this Senſe of the Word is moſt natural, and Achilles might give this particular Order not to dilute the Wine ſo much as uſually, becauſe the Embaſſadors who were brave Men, might be ſuppos'd to be much fatigu'd in the late Bat⯑tel, and to want a more than uſual Refreſhment. Euſtathius. See Plutarch Symp. l. 4. c. 5.

XXXI.

‘VERSE 271. Patroclus o'er the blazing Fire, &c.]’ The Reader muſt not expect to find much Beauty in ſuch Deſcri⯑ptions as theſe: they give us an exact Account of the Sim⯑plicity of that Age, which for all we know might be a Part of Homer's Deſign; there being, no doubt, a conſiderable Change of Cuſtoms in Greece from the Time of the Trojan War to thoſe wherein our Author lived; and it ſeem'd demanded of him to omit nothing that might give the Greeks an Idea of the Manners of their Predeceſſors. But however that Matter ſtood, it ſhould methinks be a Pleaſure to a modern Reader to ſee how ſuch mighty Men, whoſe Actions have ſurviv'd their Perſons three thouſand Years, liv'd in the earlieſt Ages [60] of the World. The Embaſſadors found this Hero, ſays Eu⯑ſtathius, without any Attendants, he had no Uſhers or Wai⯑ters to introduce them, no ſervile Paraſites about him: The latter Ages degenerated into theſe Pieces of State and Page⯑antry.

The Supper alſo is deſcrib'd with an equal Simplicity: three Princes are buſied in preparing it, and they who made the greateſt Figure in the Field of Battel, thought it no Diſ⯑paragement to prepare their own Repaſt. The Objections ſome have made that Homer's Gods and Heroes do every thing for themſelves, as if ſeveral of thoſe Offices were un⯑worthy of them, proceeds from the corrupt Idea of modern Luxury and Grandeur: Whereas in truth it is rather a Weak⯑neſs and Imperfection to ſtand in need of the Aſſiſtance and Miniſtry of others. But however it be, methinks thoſe of the niceſt Taſte might reliſh this Entertainment of Homer's, when they conſider theſe great Men as Soldiers in a Camp, in whom the leaſt Appearance of Luxury would have been a Crime.

XXXII.

‘VERSE 271. Patroclus o'er the blazing Fire.]’ Madam Da⯑cier's general Note on this Paſſage deſerves to be tranſcribed. ‘"Homer, ſays ſhe, is in the right not to avoid theſe Deſcri⯑ptions, becauſe nothing can properly be called vulgar which is drawn from the Manner and Uſages of Perſons of the firſt Dignity; and alſo becauſe in his Tongue even the Terms of Cookery are ſo noble, and of ſo agreeable a Sound, and he likewiſe knows how to place them ſo well, as to ex⯑tract a perfect Harmony from them: So that he may be ſaid to be as excellent a Poet, when he deſcribes theſe ſmall Matters, as when he treats of the greateſt Subjects. 'Tis not ſo either with our Manners, or our Language. Cookery is left to Servants, and all its Terms ſo low and diſagree⯑able, even in the Sound, that nothing can be made of them, that has not ſome Taint of their Meanneſs. This great Diſadvantage made me at firſt think of abridging this Preparation of the Repaſt; but when I had well con⯑ſider'd [61] it, I was reſolv'd to preſerve and give Homer as he is, without retrenching any thing from the Simplicity of the heroick Manners. I do not write to enter the Liſt againſt Homer, I will diſpute nothing with him; my De⯑ſign is only to give an Idea of him, and to make him be underſtood: The Reader will therefore forgive me if this Deſcription has none of its original Graces.’

XXXIII.

‘VERSE 272. In a Brazen Vaſe.]’ The word [...] ſignifies the Veſſel, and not the Meat itſelf, as Euphorion conjectured, giving it as a Reaſon that Homer makes no mention of boiled Meat: But this does not hinder but that the Meat might be parboil'd in the Veſſel to make it roaſt the ſooner. This, with ſome other Notes on the Particulars of this Paſſage, be⯑long to Euſtathius, and Madam Dacier ought not to have ta⯑ken to herſelf the Merit of his Explanations.

XXXIV.

‘VERSE 282. And ſprinkles ſacred Salt.]’ Many Reaſons are given why Salt is called ſacred or divine, but the beſt is becauſe it preſerves things incorrupt, and keeps them from Diſſolution. ‘"So Thunder (ſays Plutarch Sympoſ. l. 5. qu. 10.) is called divine, becauſe Bodies ſtruck with Thunder will not putrify; beſides Generation is divine, becauſe God is the Principle of all things, and Salt is moſt operative in Generation. Lycophron calls it [...]: For this Reaſon Venus was feign'd by the Poets to ſpring from the Sea.’

XXXV.

‘VERSE 291. To Phoenix Ajax gave the Sign.]’ Ajax who was a rough Soldier and no Orator, is impatient to have the Buſineſs over: He makes a Sign to Phoenix to begin, but Ulyſſes pre⯑vents him. Perhaps Ulyſſes might flatter himſelf that his O⯑ratory [62] would prevail upon Achilles, and ſo obtain the Honour of making the Reconciliation himſelf: Or if he were repuls'd, there yet remain'd a ſecond and third Reſource in Ajax and Phoenix, who might renew the Attempt, and endeavour to ſhake his Reſolution: There would ſtill be ſome hopes of Succeſs, as one of theſe was his Guardian, the other his Re⯑lation. One may farther add to theſe Reaſons of Euſtathius, that it would have been improper for Phoenix to have ſpoken firſt, ſince he was not an Embaſſador; and therefore Ulyſſes was the fitter Perſon, as being impower'd by that Function to make an Offer of the Preſents in the Name of the King.

XXXVI.

‘VERSE 295. Health to Achilles.]’ There are no Diſcourſes in the Iliad better placed, better tim'd, or that give a greater Idea of Homer's Genius, than theſe of the Embaſſadors to Achilles. Theſe Speeches are not only neceſſarily demanded by the Occaſion, but diſpoſed with Art, and in ſuch an Or⯑der, as raiſes more and more the Pleaſure of the Reader. Ulyſſes ſpeaks the firſt, the Character of whoſe Diſcourſe is a well-addreſs'd Eloquence; ſo the Mind is agreeably engag'd by the Choice of his Reaſons and Applications: Achilles re⯑plies with a magnanimous Freedom, whereby the Mind is elevated with the Sentiments of the Hero: Phoenix diſcourſes in a manner touching and pathetick, whereby the Heart is moved: and Ajax concludes with a generous Diſdain, that leaves the Soul of the Reader inflamed. This Order un⯑doubtedly denotes a great Poet, who knows how to command Attention as he pleaſes by the Arrangement of his Matter; and I believe it it not poſſible to propoſe a better Model for the happy Diſpoſition of a Subject. Theſe Words are Mon⯑ſieur de la Motte's, and no Teſtimony can be more glorious to Homer than this, which comes from the Mouth of an Enemy.

XXXVII.

‘VERSE 296. Not thoſe more honour'd whom Atrides feaſts.]’ I muſt juſt mention Dacier's Obſervation: With what Cun⯑ning Ulyſſes here ſlides in the odious Name of Agamemnon, as he praiſes Achilles, that the Ear of this impetuous Man might be familiariz'd to that Name.

XXXVIII.

‘VERSE 314. He waits but for the Morn, to ſink in Flame The Ships, the Greeks, &c.]’ There is a Circumſtance in the Original which I have omitted, for fear of being too parti⯑cular in an Oration of this Warmth and Importance; but as it preſerves a Piece of Antiquity I muſt not forget it here. He ſays that Hector will not only fire the Fleet, but bear off the Statues of the Gods, which were carv'd on the Prows of the Veſſels. Theſe were hung up in the Temples, as a Mo⯑nument of Victory, according to the Cuſtom of thoſe Times.

XXXIX.

‘VERSE 342. But hear me, while I number o'er The prof⯑fer'd Preſents.]’ Monſieur de la Motte finds fault with Homer for making Ulyſſes in this Place repeat all the Offers of Aga⯑memnon to Achilles. Not to anſwer that it was but neceſſary to make known to Achilles all the Propoſals, or that this diſtinct Enumeration ſerv'd the more to move him, I think one may appeal to any Perſon of common Taſte whether the ſolemn Recital of theſe Circumſtances does not pleaſe him more, than the ſimple Narration could have done, which Monſieur de la Motte would have put in its ſtead. Ulyſſes made all the Offers Agamemnon had commiſſion'd him.

XL.

‘VERSE 406. Achilles's Speech.]’ Nothing is more remar⯑kable than the Conduct of Homer in this Speech of Achilles. He begins with ſome degree of Coolneſs, as in reſpect to the Embaſſadors whoſe Perſons he eſteem'd, yet even there his Temper juſt ſhews itſelf in the Inſinuation that Ulyſſes had dealt artfully with him, which in two Periods riſes into an open Deteſtation of all Artifice. He then falls into a ſullen Declaration of his Reſolves, and a more ſedate Repreſenta⯑tion of his paſt Services; but warms as he goes on, and eve⯑ry Minute he but names his Wrongs, flies out into Extra⯑vagance. His Rage awaken'd by that Injury, is like a Fire blown by a Wind, that ſinks and riſes by fits, but keeps con⯑tinually burning, and blazes but the more for thoſe Inter⯑miſſions.

XLI.

‘VERSE 424. As the bold Bird, &c.]’ This Simile (ſays La Motte) muſt be allow'd to be juſt, but was not fit to be ſpo⯑ken in a Paſſion. One may anſwer, that the Tenderneſs of the Compariſon renders it no way the leſs proper to a Man in a Paſſion, it being natural enough, the more one is diſguſt⯑ed at preſent, the more to recollect the Kindneſs we have formerly ſhewn to thoſe who are ungrateful. Euſtathius ob⯑ſerves, that ſo ſoft as the Simile ſeems, it has nevertheleſs its fiertè; for Achilles herein expreſſes his Contempt for the Greeks, as a weak defenceleſs People, who muſt have periſh⯑ed if he had not preſerved them. And indeed if we conſi⯑der what is ſaid in the preceding Note, it will appear that the Paſſion of Achilles ought not as yet to be at the Height.

XLII.

‘VERSE 432. I ſack'd twelve ample Cities.]’ Euſtathius ſays, that the Anger of Achilles not only throws him into Tauto⯑logy, but alſo into Ambiguity: For, ſays he, theſe Words [65] may either ſignify that he deſtroy'd twelve Cities with his Ships, or barely Cities with twelve Ships. But Euſtathius in this Place is like many other Commentators, who can ſee a Meaning in a Sentence that never enter'd into the Thoughts of an Author. It is not eaſy to conceive how Achilles could have expreſs'd himſelf more clearly. There is no doubt but [...] agrees with the ſame word that [...] does, in the following Line, which is certainly [...]: and there is a manifeſt Enu⯑meration of the Places he had conquer'd, by Sea, and by Land.

XLIII.

‘VERSE 450. The Wife whom Choice and Paſſion both approve, Sure ev'ry wiſe and worthy Man will love.]’ The Argument of Achilles in this Place is very a-propos with Reference to the Caſe of Agamemnon. If I tranſlated it verbatim, I muſt ſay in plain Engliſh, Every honeſt Man loves his Wife. Thus Homer has made this raſh, this fiery Soldier, govern'd by his Paſſions, and in the Rage of Youth, bear Teſtimony to his own Reſpect for the Ladies. But it ſeems Poltis King of Thrace was of another Opinion, who would have parted with two Wives, out of pure Good-nature to two meer Strangers; as I have met with the Story ſomewhere in Plutarch. When the Greeks were raiſing Forces againſt Troy, they ſent Embaſ⯑ſadors to this Poltis to deſire his Aſſiſtance. He enquir'd the Cauſe of the War, and was told it was the Injury Paris had done Menelaus in taking his Wife from him. ‘"If that be all, ſaid the good King, let me accomodate the Difference: Indeed it is not juſt the Greek Prince ſhould loſe a Wife, and on the other ſide it is pity the Trojan ſhould want one. Now I have two Wives, and to prevent all this Miſchief, I'll ſend one of them to Menelaus, and the other to Paris.’ It is a ſhame this Story is ſo little known, and that poor Poltis yet remains uncelebrated: I cannot but recommend him to the modern Poets.

XLIV.

‘VERSE 457. Your King, Ulyſſes, may conſult with you.]’ Achilles ſtill remembers what Agamemnon ſaid to him when they quarrel'd, Other brave Warriors will be left behind to follow me in Battel, as we have ſeen in the firſt Book. He anſwers here without either ſparing Ajax or Ulyſſes; as much his Friends as they are, they have their Share in this Stroke of Raillery. Euſtathius.

XLV.

‘VERSE 459. Has he not Walls?]’ This is a bitter Satyr (ſays Euſtathius) againſt Agamemnon, as if his only Deeds were the making of this Wall, this Ditch, theſe Palli⯑ſades, to defend himſelf againſt thoſe whom he came to beſiege: There was no need of theſe Retrenchments, whilſt Achilles fought. But (as Dacier obſerves) this Satyr does not affect Agamemnon only, but Neſtor too, who had advis'd the making of theſe Retrenchments, and who had ſaid in the ſecond Book, If there are a few who ſeparate themſelves from the reſt of the Army, let them ſtay and periſh, ℣. 346. Probably this had been reported to Achilles, and that Hero revenges himſelf here by mocking theſe Re⯑trenchments.

XLVI.

‘VERSE 473. Pthia the third Day hence, &c.]’ Monſieur de la Motte thinks the mention of theſe minute Circumſtances not to agree with the paſſionate Character of the Speaker; that he ſhall arrive at Pthia in three Days, that he ſhall find there all the Riches he left when he came to the Siege, and that he ſhall carry other Treaſures home. Dacier anſwers, that we need only conſider the preſent Situation of Achilles, and his Cauſe of Complaint againſt Agamemnon, and we ſhall be ſatisfied here is nothing but what is exactly agreeable to the Oc⯑caſion. To convince the Embaſſadors that he will return home, [67] he inſtances the Eaſineſs of doing it, in the Space of three Days. Agamemnon had injur'd him in the Point of Booty, he there⯑fore declares he had ſufficient Treaſures at home, and that he will carry off Spoils enough, and Women enough, to make amends for thoſe that Prince had raviſh'd from him. Every one of theſe Particulars marks his Paſſion and Reſentment.

XLVII.

‘VERSE 481. One only valu'd Gift your Tyrant gave.]’ The Injury which Agamemnon offer'd to Achilles is ſtill uppermoſt in his Thoughts, he has but juſt diſmiſs'd it, and now re⯑turns to it again. Theſe Repetitions are far from being Faults in Achilles's Wrath, whoſe Anger is perpetually break⯑ing out upon the ſame Injury.

XLVIII.

‘VERSE 494. Kings of ſuch a kind Stand but as Slaves before a noble Mind.]’ The Words in the Greek are, I deſpiſe him as a Carian. The Carians were People of Boeotia, the firſt that ſold their Valour, and were ready to fight for any that gave them their Pay. This was look'd upon as the vi⯑leſt of Actions in thoſe heroical Ages. I think there is at pre⯑ſent but one Nation in the World diſtinguiſh'd for this Practice, who are ready to proſtitute their Hands to kill for the high⯑eſt Bidder.

Euſtathius endeavours to give many other Solutions of this Place, as that [...] may be miſtaken for [...] from [...], pediculus; but this is too mean and trivial to be Homer's Sentiment. There is more Probability that it comes from [...], [...], and ſo [...] by the Change of the Eta into Alpha; and then the Meaning will be, that Achilles hates him as much as Hell or Death, agreeable to what he had ſaid a lit⯑tle before.

‘VERSE 500. Not all proud Thebes, &c.]’ Theſe ſeveral Circumſtances concerning Thebes are thought by ſome not to ſuit with that Emotion with which Achilles here is ſuppos'd to ſpeak: but the contrary will appear true, if we reflect that nothing is more uſual for Perſons tranſported with Anger, than to inſiſt, and return to ſuch Particulars as moſt touch them; and that Exaggeration is a Figure extremely natural in Paſſion. Achilles therefore, by ſhewing the Greatneſs of Thebes, its Wealth, and Extent, does in Effect but ſhew the Greatneſs of his own Soul, and of that inſuperable Reſent⯑ment which renders all theſe Riches (tho' the greateſt in the World) contemptible in his Sight, when he compares them with the Indignity his Honour has receiv'd.

L.

‘VERSE 500. Proud Thebes' unrival'd Walls, &c.]’ ‘"The City which the Greeks call Thebes, the Aegyptians Helio⯑polis (ſays Diodorus lib. 1. part. 2.) was in Circuit a hun⯑dred and forty Stadia, adorned with ſtately Buildings, mag⯑nificent Temples, and rich Donations. It was not only the moſt beautiful and noble City of Aegypt, but of the whole World. The Fame of its Wealth and Grandeur was ſo celebrated in all Parts, that the Poet took notice of it in theſe Words.— [...] [...] [...] [...]Tho' others affirm it had not a hundred Gates, but ſeve⯑ral vaſt Porches to the Temples; from whence the City was call'd the Hundred-gated, only as having many Gates. Yet it is certain it furniſhed twenty thouſand Chariots of War; for there were a hundred Stables along the River, [69] from Memphis to Thebes towards Lybia, each of which contain'd two hundred Horſes, the Ruins whereof are ſhewn at this Day. The Princes from time to time made it their care to beautify and enlarge this City, to which none un⯑der the Sun was equal in the many and magnificent Trea⯑ſures of Gold, Silver, and Ivory; with innumerable Co⯑loſſus's, and Obeliſques of one entire Stone. There were four Temples admirable in Beauty and Greatneſs, the moſt ancient of which was in Circuit thirteen Stadia, and five and forty Cubits in Heighth, with a Wall of four and twenty Foot broad. The Ornaments and Offerings within were agreeable to this Magnificence, both in Value and Workmanſhip. The Fabrick is yet remaining, but the Gold, Silver, Ivory, and precious Stones were ranſack'd by the Perſians when Cambyſes burn'd the Temples of Aegypt. There were found in the Rubbiſh above three hundred Ta⯑lents of Gold, and no leſs than two thouſand three hundred of Silver.’ The ſame Author proceeds to give many Inſtan⯑ces of the Magnificence of this great City. The Deſcription of the Sepulchres of their Kings, and particularly that of Oſymanduas, is perfectly aſtoniſhing, to which I refer the Reader.

Strabo farther informs us, that the Kings of Thebes ex⯑tended their Conqueſts as far as Scythia, Bactria, and India.

LI.

‘VERSE 525. Not all Apollo's Pythian Treaſures.]’ The Temple of Apollo at Delphos was the richeſt Temple in the World, by the Offerings which were brought to it from all Parts; there were Statues of maſſy Gold of a human Size, Figures of Animals in Gold, and ſeveral other Treaſures. A great Sign of its Wealth is, that the Phocians pillag'd it in the Time of Philip the Son of Amyntas, which gave Occa⯑ſion to the holy War. 'Tis ſaid to have been pillag'd before, and that the great Riches of which Homer ſpeaks, had been carried away. Euſtathius.

LII.

‘VERSE 530. The vital Spirit bled, Returns no more.]’ No⯑thing ſure could be better imagin'd, or more ſtrongly paint Achilles's Reſentment, than this Commendation which Ho⯑mer puts into his Mouth of a long and peaceable Life. That Hero whoſe very Soul was poſſeſſed with Love of Glo⯑ry, and who prefer'd it to Life itſelf, lets his Anger prevail over this his darling Paſſion: He deſpiſes even Glory, when he cannot obtain that, and enjoy his Revenge at the ſame time; and rather than lay this aſide, becomes the very Re⯑verſe of himſelf.

LIII.

‘VERSE 532. My Fates long ſince by Thetis were diſclos'd.]’ It was very neceſſary for Homer to put the Reader more than once in mind of this Piece of Achilles's Story: There is a Remark of Monſieur de la Motte which deſerves to be tran⯑ſcribed entire on this Occaſion.

LIV.

‘VERSE 565. How ſhall thy Friend, thy Phoenix ſtay behind.]’ This is a ſtrong Argument to perſuade Achilles to ſtay, but dreſs'd up in the utmoſt Tenderneſs: the venerable old Man riſes with Tears in his Eyes, and ſpeaks the Language of Affection. He tells him that he would not be left behind him, tho' the Gods would free him from the Burthen of old Age, and re⯑ſtore him to his Youth: But in the midſt of ſo much Fond⯑neſs, he couches a powerful Argument to perſuade him not to return home, by adding that his Father ſent him to be his Guide and Guardian, Phoenix ought not therefore to fol⯑low the Inclinations of Achilles, but Achilles the Directions of Phoenix. Euſtathius.

‘"The Art of this Speech of Phoenix (ſays Dionyſius [...], lib. 1.) conſiſts in his ſeeming to agree with all that Achilles had ſaid: Achilles, he ſees, will depart; and he muſt go along with him; but in aſſigning the Reaſons why he muſt go with him, he proves that Achilles ought not to depart. And thus while he ſeems only to ſhew his Love to his Pupil in his Inability to ſtay behind him, he indeed challenges the other's Gratitude for the Benefits he had confer'd upon him in his Infancy and [72] Education. At the ſame time that he moves Achilles, he gratifies Agamemnon; and that this was the real Deſign which he diſguiſed in that manner, we are inform'd by Achilles himſelf in the Reply he makes: For Homer, and all the Authors that treat of this Figure, generally contrive it ſo, that the Anſwers made to theſe kind of Speeches; diſcover all the Art and Structure of them. Achilles therefore asks him,Is it for him theſe Tears are taught to flow, For him theſe Sorrows, for my mortal Foe?You ſee the Scholar reveals the Art and Diſſimulation of his Maſter; and as Phoenix had recounted the Benefits done him, he takes off that Expoſtulation by promiſing to divide his Empire with him, as may be ſeen in the ſame Anſwer.’

LV.

‘VERSE 567. He ſent thee early to th' Achaian Hoſt.]’ A⯑chilles (ſays Euſtathius) according to ſome of the Ancients, was but twelve Years old when he went to the Wars of Troy; ( [...]) and it may be gather'd from what the Poet here relates of the Education of Achilles under Phoenix, that the Fable of his being tutor'd by Chiron was the Invention of latter Ages, and unknown to Homer.

Mr. Bayle in his Article of Achilles, has very well proved this. He might indeed as he grew up, have learn'd Muſick and Phyſick of Chiron, without having him formally as his Tutor; for it is plain from this Speech that he was put un⯑der the Direction of Phoenix as his Governor in Morality, when his Father ſent him along with him to the Siege of Troy.

LVI.

‘VERSE 576. My Father, faithleſs to my Mother's Arms, &c.]’ Homer has been blamed for introducing two long Stories in⯑to [73] this Speech of Phoenix; this concerning himſelf is ſaid not to be in the proper Place, and what Achilles muſt needs have heard over and over: It alſo gives (ſay they) a very ill Impreſſion of Phoenix himſelf, and makes him appear a very unfit Perſon to be a Teacher of Morality to the young Hero. It is anſwer'd, that tho' Achilles might have known the Story before in general, 'tis proboble Phoenix had not till now ſo preſſing an Occaſion to make him diſcover the Exceſs his Fury had tranſported him to, in attempting the Life of his own Father: The whole Story tends to repre⯑ſent the dreadful Effects of Paſſion; and I cannot but think the Example is the more forcible, as it is drawn from his own Experience.

LVII.

‘VERSE 579. To win the Damſel.]’ The Counſel that this Mother gives to her Son Phoenix is the ſame that Achitophel gave to Abſolom, to hinder him from ever being reconcil'd to David. Et ait Achitophel ad Abſolom: ingredere ad con⯑cubinos patris tui, quas dimiſit ad cuſtodiendam domum, ut cum audierit omnis Iſrael quod foedaveris patrem tuum, robo⯑rentur tecum manus eorum. 2 Sam. 14. 20. Dacier.

LVIII.

‘VERSE 579. Prevent my Sire.]’ This Decency of Homer is worthy Obſervation, who to remove all the diſagreeable Ideas which might proceed from this Intrigue of Phoenix with his Father's Miſtreſs, took care to give us to underſtand in one ſingle word, that Amyntor had no ſhare in her Affections, which makes the Action of Phoenix the more excuſable. He does it only in Obedience to his Mother, in order to reclaim his Father, and oblige him to live like her Husband: Be⯑ſides, his Father had yet no Commerce with this Miſtreſs to whoſe Love he pretended. Had it been otherwiſe, and had Phoenix committed this ſort of Inceſt, Homer would neither have preſented this Image to his Reader, nor Peleus choſen Phoenix to be Governor to Achilles. Dacier.

LIX.

‘VERSE 584. Infernal Jove.]’ The Greek is [...]. The Ancients gave the Name of Jupiter not only to the God of Heaven, but likewiſe to the God of Hell, as is ſeen here, and to the God of the Sea, as appears from Aeſ⯑chylus. They thereby meant to ſhew that one ſole Deity go⯑verned the World; and it was to teach the ſame Truth, that the ancient Statuaries made Statues of Jupiter, which had three Eyes. Priam had one of them in that manner in the Court of his Palace, which was there in Laomedon's Time: After the taking of Troy, when the Greeks ſhar'd the Booty, it fell to Sthenelus's Lot, who carry'd it into Greece. Dacier.

LX.

‘VERSE 586. Deſpair and Grief diſtract, &c.]’ I have ta⯑ken the Liberty to replace here four Verſes which Ariſtarchus had cut out, becauſe of the Horror which the Idea gave him of a Son who is going to kill his Father; but perhaps Ari⯑ſtarchus's Niceneſs was too great. Theſe Verſes ſeem to me neceſſary, and have a very good Effect; for Phoenix's Aim is to ſhew Achilles, that unleſs we overcome our Wrath, we are expos'd to commit the greateſt Crimes: He was going to kill his own Father. Achilles in the ſame manner is going to let his Father Phoenix and all the Greeks periſh, if he does not appeaſe his Wrath. Plutarch relates theſe four Verſes in his Treatiſe of reading the Poets; and adds, ‘"Ariſtarchus frightned at this horrible Crime, cut out theſe Verſes; but they do very well in this Place, and on this Occaſion, Phoenix intending to ſhew Achilles what Wrath is, and to what abominable Exceſſes it hurries Men who do not obey Reaſon, and who refuſe to follow the Counſels of thoſe that adviſe them.’ Theſe ſort of Curtailings from Homer, often contrary to all Reaſon, gave room to Lucian to feign that being in the fortunate Iſlands, he ask'd Homer a great many Queſtions. Among other things (ſays he in [75] his ſecond Book of his true Hiſtory) ‘"I ask'd him whether he had made all the Verſes which had been rejected in his Poem? He aſſur'd me they were all his own, which made me laugh at the impertinent and bold Criticiſms of Zeno⯑dorus and Ariſtarchus, who had retrench'd them.’ Dacier.

LXI.

‘VERSE 612. I paſs my Watchings o'er thy helpleſs Years.]’ In the Original of this Place Phoenix tells Achilles, that as he placed him in his Infancy on his Lap, he has often caſt up the Wine he had drank upon his Cloaths. I wiſh I had any Autho⯑rity to ſay theſe Verſes were foiſted into the Text: For tho' the Idea be indeed natural, it muſt be granted to be ſo very groſs as to be utterly unworthy of Homer; nor do I ſee any Colour to ſoften the Meanneſs of it: ſuch Images in any Age or Country, muſt have been too nauſeous to be de⯑ſcribed.

LXII.

‘VERSE 625. Pray'rs are Jove's Daughters.]’ Nothing can be more beautiful, noble, or religious, than this divine Alle⯑gory. We have here Goddeſſes of Homer's Creation, he ſets before us their Pictures in lively Colours, and gives theſe fancy'd Beings all the Features that reſemble Mankind who offer Injuries, or have Recourſe to Prayers.

Prayers are ſaid to be the Daughters of Jove, becauſe it is he who teaches Man to pray. They are lame, becauſe the Poſture of a Suppliant is with his Knee on the Ground. They are wrinkled, becauſe thoſe that pray have a Countenance of Dejection and Sorrow. Their Eyes are turn'd aſide, becauſe thro' an awful Regard to Heaven they dare not lift them thi⯑ther. They follow Ate or Injury, becauſe nothing but Prayers can attone for the Wrongs that are offer'd by the injurious. Ate is ſaid to be ſtrong and ſwift of Foot, &c. becauſe inju⯑rious Men are ſwift to do Miſchief. This is the Explanation of Euſtathius, with whom Dacier agrees, but when ſhe allows the Circumſtance of Lameneſs to intimate the Cuſtom of [76] kneeling in Prayer, ſhe forgets that this contradicts her own Aſſertion in one of the Remarks on Iliad 7. where ſhe affirms that no ſuch Cuſtom was uſed by the Greeks. And indeed the contrary ſeems inferred in ſeveral Places of Homer, par⯑ticularly where Achilles ſays in the 608th Verſe of the eleventh Book, The Greeks ſhall ſtand round his Knees ſupplicating to him. The Phraſes in that Language that ſignify praying, are deriv'd from the Knee, only as it was uſual to lay hold on the Knee of the Perſon to whom they ſupplicated.

A modern Author imagines Ate to ſignify divine Juſtice, a Notion in which he is ſingle, and repugnant to all the My⯑thologiſts. Beſides, the whole Context in this Place, and the very Application of the Allegory to the preſent Caſe of Achilles, whom he exhorts to be moved by Prayers notwith⯑ſtanding the Injuſtice done him by Agamemnon, makes the con⯑trary evident.

LXIII.

‘VERSE 643. Not Greece, nor all her Fortunes.]’ Plato in the third Book of his Republick condemns this Paſſage, and thinks it very wrong, that Phoenix ſhould ſay to Achilles that if they did not offer him great Preſents, he would not adviſe him to be appeas'd; but I think there is ſome Injuſtice in this Cenſure, and that Plato has not rightly enter'd into the Senſe of Phoenix, who does not look upon theſe Preſents on the ſide of Intereſt, but Honour, as a Mark of Agamemnon's Repentance, and of the Satisfaction he is ready to make: wherefore he ſays, that Honour has a mighty Power over great Spirits. Dacier.

LXIV.

‘VERSE 648. Permit not theſe to ſue, and ſue in vain.]’ In the Original it is— [...].—I am pretty confident there is not any manner of ſpeaking like this uſed throughout all Homer; nor two Subſtantives ſo odly coupled to a Verb, as [...] and [...] in this Place. We may indeed meet with ſuch little Affectations in Ovid,—Aurigam [77] puriter animaque, rotiſque, Expulit—and the like; but the Taſte of the Ancients in general was too good for theſe Foo⯑leries. I muſt have leave to think the Verſe [...], &c. an Interpolation; the Senſe is compleat without it, and the latter part of the Line, [...], ſeems but a Tautology, after what is ſaid in the ſix Verſes preceding.

LXV.

‘VERSE 649. Let me, my Son, an ancient Fact unfold.]’ Phoenix, ſays Euſtathius, lays down, as the Foundation of his Story, that great Men in former Ages were always appeas'd by Preſents and Entreaties, and to confirm this Poſition, he brings Meleager as an Inſtance; but it may be object⯑ed, that Meleager was an ill choſen Inſtance, being a Per⯑ſon whom no Entreaties could move: The Superſtructure of this Story ſeems not to agree with the Foundation. Eu⯑ſtathius ſolves the Difficulty thus. Homer did not intend to give an Inſtance of a Hero's Compliance with the Entreaties of his Friends, but to ſhew that they who did not comply were Sufferers themſelves in the End. So that the Connecti⯑on of the Story is thus; The Heroes of former Times were uſed always to be won by Preſents and Entreaties; Meleager only was obſtinate, and ſuffer'd becauſe he was ſo.

The Length of this Narration cannot be taxed as unſea⯑ſonable; it was at full Leiſure in the Tent, and in the Night, a time of no Action. Yet I cannot anſwer but the Tale may be tedious to a modern Reader. I have tranſlated it there⯑fore with all poſſible Shortneſs, as will appear upon a Com⯑pariſon. The Piece itſelf is very valuable, as it preſerves to us a Part of ancient Hiſtory that had otherwiſe been entirely loſt, as Quintilian has remark'd. The ſame great Critick commends Homer's manner of relating it: Narrare quis ſig⯑nificantius poteſt, quam qui Curetum Aetolorumque praelia ex⯑ponit, lib. 10. c. 1.

LXVI.

‘VERSE 677. Alcyone, a Name to ſhow, &c.]’ It appears (ſays Madam Dacier) by this Paſſage, and by others already obſerv'd, that the Greeks often gave Names, as did the He⯑brews, not only with reſpect to the Circumſtances, but like⯑wiſe to the Accidents which happen'd to the Fathers and Mothers of thoſe they named: Thus Cleopatra is called Al⯑cyone, from the Lamentations of her Mother. I cannot but think this Digreſſion concerning Idas and Marpeſſa too long, and not very much to the Purpoſe.

LXVII.

It is remarkakable with what Art Homer here in a few Words ſums up the Miſeries of a City taken by Aſſault.

It had been unpardonable for Cleopatra to have made a long Repreſentation to Meleager of theſe Miſeries, when every Mo⯑ment that kept him from the Battel could not be ſpared. It is alſo to be obſerved how perfectly the Features of Meleager reſemble Achilles, they are both brave Men, ambitious of Glory, both of them deſcrib'd as giving Victory to their ſe⯑veral Armies while they fought, and both of them implaca⯑ble in their Reſentment. Euſtathius.

LXVIII.

‘VERSE 718. Achilles's Anſwer to Phoenix.]’ The Character of Achilles is excellently ſuſtain'd in all his Speeches: To U⯑lyſſes he returns a flat Denial, and threatens to leave the Tro⯑jan Shores in the Morning: To Phoenix he gives a much gentler Anſwer, and begins to mention Agamemnon with leſs Diſreſpect [...]: After Ajax had ſpoken, he ſeems determined not to depart, but yet refuſes to bear Arms, till it is to defend his own Squadron. Thus Achilles's Character [79] is every where of a Piece: He begins to yield, and not to have done ſo, would not have ſpoke him a Man; to have made him perfectly inexorable had ſhewn him a Monſter. Thus the Poet draws the Heat of his Paſſion cooling by ſlow Degrees, which is very natural: To have done otherwiſe, had not been agreeable to Achilles's Temper, nor the Reader's Ex⯑pectation, to whom it would have been ſhocking to have ſeen him paſſing from the greateſt Storm of Anger to a quiet Calmneſs. Euſtathius.

LXIX.

‘VERSE 725. While Life's warm Spirit beats within my Breaſt.]’ Euſtathius obſerves here with a great deal of Penetration, that theſe Words of Achilles include a ſort of Oracle, which he does not underſtand: For it ſometimes happens that Men full of their Objects ſay things, which beſides the Senſe na⯑tural and plain to every Body, include another ſupernatural, which they themſelves do not underſtand, and which is un⯑derſtood by thoſe only who have Penetration enough to ſee thro' the Obſcurity of it. Thus Oedipus often ſpeaks in So⯑phocles; and holy Scripture furniſhes us with great Examples of Enthuſiaſtick Speeches, which have a double Senſe. Here we manifeſtly ſee that Achilles in ſpeaking a very ſimple and common thing, foretells without thinking of it, that his Abode on that fatal Shore will equal the Courſe of his Life, and conſequently that he ſhall die there: and this double Meaning gives a ſenſible Pleaſure to the Reader. Dacier.

LXX.

‘VERSE 742. The Speech of Ajax.]’ I have before ſpoken of this ſhort Soldier-like Speech of Ajax; Dionyſius of Ha⯑licarnaſſus ſays of it, ‘"that the Perſon who entreats moſt, and with moſt Liberty, who ſupplicates moſt, and preſſes moſt, is Ajax.’ It is probable that Ajax riſes up when he ſpeaks the word, Let us go. He does not vouchſafe to ad⯑dreſs himſelf to Achilles, but turns himſelf to Ulyſſes, and ſpeaks with a martial Eloquence.

LXXI.

‘VERSE 751. The Price of Blood diſcharg'd.]’ It was the Cu⯑ſtom for the Murderer to go into Baniſhment one Year, but if the Relations of the Perſon murthered were willing, the Criminal by paying them a certain Fine, might buy off the Exile, and remain at home. (It may not be amiſs to obſerve, that [...], quaſi [...], properly ſignifies a Mulct paid for Mur⯑der.) Ajax ſums up this Argument with a great deal of Strength: We ſee, ſays he, a Brother forgive the Murder of his Brother, a Father that of his Son. But Achilles will not forgive the Injury offer'd him by taking away one captive Woman. Euſtathius.

LXXII.

‘VERSE 757. Revere the Roof, and to thy Gueſts be kind.]’ Euſtathius ſays there is ſome Difficulty in the Original of this Place. Why ſhould Ajax draw an Argument to influence A⯑chilles, by putting him in mind to reverence his own Habi⯑tation? The latter Part of the Verſe explains the former: We, ſays Ajax, are under your Roof, and let that protect us from any ill Uſage; ſend us not away from your Houſe with Contempt, who came hither as Friends, as Supplicants, as Embaſſadors.

LXXIII.

‘VERSE 762. Well haſt thon ſpoke, but at the Tyrant's Name My Rage rekindles.]’ We have here the true Picture of an an⯑gry Man, and nothing can be better imagin'd to heighten Achilles's Wrath; he owns that Reaſon would induce him to a Reconciliation, but his Anger is too great to liſten to Rea⯑ſon. He ſpeaks with reſpect to them, but upon mentioning Agamemnon, he flies into Rage: Anger is in nothing more like Madneſs, than that Madmen will talk ſenſibly enough upon any indifferent Matter; but upon the mention of the [81] Subject that cauſed their Diſorder, they fly out into their uſual Extravagance.

LXXIV.

‘VERSE 811. Such was his Word.]’ It may be ask'd here why Ulyſſes ſpeaks only of the Anſwer which Achilles made him at firſt, and ſays nothing of the Diſpoſition to which the Diſcourſes of Phoenix and Ajax had brought him. The Queſtion is eaſily anſwer'd; it is becauſe Achilles is obſtinate in his Reſentment; and that, if at length a little mov'd by Phoe⯑nix, and ſhaken by Ajax, he ſeem'd diſpos'd to take Arms; it is not out of regard to the Greeks, but only to ſave his own Squadron, when Hector after having put the Greeks to the Sword, ſhall come to inſult it. Thus this inflexible Man a⯑bates nothing of his Rage. It is therefore prudent in Ulyſſes to make this Report to Agamemnon, to the End that being put out of hopes of the Aid with which he flatter'd himſelf, he may concert with the Leaders of the Army the Meaſures neceſſary to ſave his Fleet and Troops. Euſtathius.

LXXV.

‘VERSE 821. Why ſhould we Gifts, &c.]’ This Speech is admirably adapted to the Character of Diomed, every word is animated with a martial Courage, and worthy to be deli⯑ver'd by a gallant Soldier. He advis'd fighting in the be⯑ginning of the Book, and continues ſtill in that Opinion; and he is no more concern'd at the Speech of Achilles now, than he was at that of Agamemnon before.

I.

IT is obſervable, ſays Euſtathius, that the Poet very art⯑fully repairs the Loſs of the laſt Day by this nocturnal Stratagem; and it is plain that ſuch a Contrivance was neceſſary: The Army was diſpirited and Achilles in⯑flexible; but by the Succeſs of this Adventure the Scale is turn'd in favour of the Grecians.

II.

‘VERSE 3. All but the King, &c.]’ Homer here with a very ſmall Alteration repeats the Verſes which begin the ſecond Book: He introduces Agamemnon with the ſame Pomp as he did Jupiter; he aſcribes to him the ſame Watchfulneſs over Men, as he exercis'd over the Gods, and Jove and Agamem⯑non are the only Perſons awake, while Heaven and Earth are aſleep. Euſtathius.

III.

‘VERSE 7. Or ſends ſoft Snows.]’ Scaliger's Criticiſm againſt this paſſage, that it never lightens and ſnows at the ſame time, is ſufficiently refuted by Experience. See Boſſu of the Epic Poem lib. 3. c. 7. and Barnes's Note on this Place.

IV.

‘VERSE 8. Or bids the brazen Throat of War to roar.]’ There is ſomething very noble and ſublime in this Image: The vaſt Jaws of War is an Expreſſion that very poetically repreſents the Voraciouſneſs of War, and gives us a lively Idea of an in⯑ſatiate Monſter. Euſtathius.

V.

‘VERSE 9. By fits one Flaſh ſucceeds, &c.]’ It requires ſome Skill in Homer to take the chief Point of his Similitudes; he has often been miſunderſtood in that reſpect, and his Com⯑pariſons have frequently been ſtrain'd to comply with the Fan⯑cies of Commentators. This Compariſon which is brought to illuſtrate the Frequency of Agamemnon's Sighs, has been uſually thought to repreſent in general the Groans of the King, whereas what Homer had in his view was only the quick Succeſſion of them.

VI.

‘VERSE 13. Now o'er the Fields, &c.]’ Ariſtotle anſwers a Criticiſm of ſome Cenſurers of Homer on this Place. They asked how it was that Agamemnon, ſhut up in his Tent in the Night, could ſee the Trojan Camp at one view, and the Fleet at another, as the Poet repreſents it? It is (ſays Ariſtotle) only a metaphorical manner of Speech; To caſt one's Eye, means but to reflect upon, or to revolve in one's Mind: and that em⯑ploy'd Agamemnon's Thoughts in his Tent, which had been the chief Object of his Eyes the Day before.

VII.

‘VERSE 19. He rends his Hairs in ſacrifice to Jove.]’ I know this Action of Agamemnon has been taken only as a common Expreſſion of Grief, and ſo indeed it was render'd by Accius, as cited by Tully, Tuſc. quaeſt. l. 3. Scindens dolore identidem intonſam comam. But whoever reads the Context will, I be⯑lieve, be of Opinion, that Jupiter is mention'd here on no other Account than as he was apply'd to in the offering of theſe Hairs, in an humble Supplication to the offended Deity who had ſo lately manifeſted his Anger.

VIII.

‘VERSE 27. He roſe, and firſt he caſt his Mantle round.]’ I fancy it will be entertaining to the Reader to obſerve how well the Poet at all times ſuits the Deſcriptions to the Cir⯑cumſtances of the Perſons: We muſt remember that this Book continues the Actions of one Night; the whole Army is now aſleep, and the Poet takes this Opportunity to give us a Deſcription of ſeveral of his Heroes ſuitable to their proper Characters. Agamemnon who is every where deſcrib'd as anxious for the Good of his People, is kept awake by a fatherly Care for their Preſervation. Menelaus, for whoſe ſake the Greeks had ſuffer'd ſo greatly, ſhares all their Mis⯑fortunes, and is reſtleſs while they are in danger. Neſtor, a provident, wiſe old Man, ſacrifices his Reſt even in the Ex⯑tremity of Age, to his Love for his Country. Ulyſſes, a Per⯑ſon next to Neſtor in Wiſdom, is ready at the firſt Summons; he finds it hard, while the Greeks ſuffer, to compoſe him⯑ſelf to Sleep, but is eaſily awak'd to march to its Defence: But Diomed, who is every where deſcrib'd as a daring War⯑rior, ſleeps unconcern'd at the Nearneſs of the Enemy, and is not awaked without ſome Violence: He is ſaid to be aſleep, but he ſleeps like a Soldier in compleat Arms.

I could not paſs over one Circumſtance in this Place in Relation to Neſtor. It is a Pleaſure to ſee what Care the Poet takes of his favourite Councellor: He deſcribes him ly⯑ing [122] in a ſoft Bed, wraps him up in a warm Cloak, to preſerve his Age from the Coldneſs of the Night; but Diomed, a gallant young Hero, ſleeps upon the Ground in open Air; and indeed every Warrior is dreſs'd in Arms peculiar to that Seaſon: The Hide of a Lion or Leopard is what they all put on, being not to engage an Enemy, but to meet their Friends in Council. Euſtathius.

IX.

‘VERSE 43. Sends he ſome Spy? &c.]’ Menelaus in this Place ſtarts a Deſign which is afterwards propoſed by Neſtor in Council; the Poet knew that the Project would come with greater Weight from the Age of the one, than from the Youth of the other: and that the Valiant would be ready to execute a Deſign, which ſo venerable a Counſellor had form'd. Euſtathius.

X.

‘VERSE 57. Such wondrous Deeds as Hector's Hand, &c.]’ We hear Agamemnon in this Place launching into the Praiſes of a gallant Enemy; but if any one think that he raiſes the Actions of Hector too high, and ſets him above Achilles him⯑ſelf, this Objection will vaniſh if he conſiders that he com⯑mends him as the braveſt of mere Men, but ſtill he is not equal to Achilles who was deſcended from a Goddeſs. Aga⯑memnon undoubtedly had Achilles in his Thoughts when he ſays,

But his Anger will not let him even name the Man whom he thus obliquely praiſes.

Euſtathius proceeds to obſerve, that the Poet aſcribes the gallant Exploits of Hector to his Piety; and had he not been favour'd by Jove, he had not been thus victorious.

He alſo remarks that there is a double Tautology in this Speech of Agamemnon, as [...], and [123] [...]. This proceeds from the Wonder which the King endeavours to expreſs at the Greatneſs of Hector's Actions: He labours to make his Words anſwer the great Idea he had conceiv'd of them, and while his Mind dwells upon the ſame Object, he falls into the ſame manner of expreſſing it. This is very natural to a Perſon in his Circumſtances, whoſe Thoughts are as it were pent up, and ſtruggle for an Utterance.

XI.

‘VERSE 73. The Paths ſo many, &c.]’ 'Tis plain from this Verſe, as well as from many others, that the Art of For⯑tification was in ſome degree of Perfection in Homer's Days: Here are Lines drawn that traverſe the Camp ev'ry way; the Ships are drawn up in the manner of a Rampart, and ſally Ports made at proper Diſtances, that they might with⯑out Difficulty either retire or iſſue out, as the Occaſion ſhould require. Euſtathius.

XII.

‘VERSE 92. Seek'ſt thou ſome Friend or nightly Centinel?]’ It has been thought that Neſtor asks this Queſtion upon the Ac⯑count of his Son Thraſymedes, who commanded the Guard that Night. He ſeems to be under ſome Apprehenſion leſt he ſhould have remitted the Watch. And it may alſo be gather'd from this Paſſage, that in thoſe Times the Uſe of the Watch-word was unknown; becauſe Neſtor is oblig'd to crowd ſeveral Queſtions together, before he can learn whether Aga⯑memnon be a Friend or an Enemy. The Shortneſs of the Queſtions agrees admirably with the Occaſion upon which they were made; it being neceſſary that Neſtor ſhould be im⯑mediately inform'd who he was who paſs'd along the Camp: If a Spy, that he might ſtand upon his Guard; if a Friend, that he might not cauſe an Alarm to be given to the Army, by multiplying Queſtions. Euſtathius.

XIII.

‘VERSE 96. Lo here the wretched Agamemnon ſtands.]’ Eu⯑ſtathius obſerves, that Agamemnon here paints his Diſtreſs in a very pathetical manner: while the meaneſt Soldier is at reſt, the General wanders about diſconſolate, and is ſupe⯑rior now in nothing ſo much as in Sorrow; but this Sorrow proceeds not from a baſe abject Spirit, but from a generous Diſpoſition; he is not anxious for the Loſs of his own Glory, but for the Sufferings of his People: It is a noble Sorrow, and ſprings from a commendable Tenderneſs and Humanity.

XIV.

‘VERSE 138. My gen'rous Brother is of gentle Kind.]’ Aga⯑memnon is every where repreſented as the greateſt Example of brotherly Affection; and he at all times defends Menelaus, but never with more Addreſs than now: Neſtor had accus'd Menelaus of Sloath; the King is his Advocate, but pleads his Excuſe only in part: He does not entirely acquit him, be⯑cauſe he would not contradict ſo wiſe a Man as Neſtor; nor does he condemn him, becauſe his Brother at this time was not guilty; but he very artfully turns the Imputation of Ne⯑ſtor, to the Praiſe of Menelaus; and affirms, that what might ſeem to be Remiſsneſs in his Character was only a Deference to his Authority, and that his ſeeming Inactivity was but an Unwillingneſs to act without Command. Eu⯑ſtathius.

XV.

‘VERSE 174. A Wood of Spears ſtood by, &c.]’ The Picture here given us of Diomed ſleeping in his Arms, with his Sol⯑diers about him, and the Spears ſticking upright in the Earth, has a near Reſemblance to that in the firſt Book of Samuel, Ch. 26. ℣. 7. Saul lay ſleeping within the Trench, and his Spear ſtuck in the Ground at his Bolſter, but Abner and the Peo⯑ple lay round about him.

XVI.

‘VERSE 182. From yon' Hill the Foe, &c.]’ It is neceſſary, if we would form an exact Idea of the Battels of Homer, to carry in our Minds the Place where each Action was fought. It will therefore be proper to enquire where that Eminence ſtood, upon which the Trojans encamp'd this Night. Eu⯑ſtathius is inclinable to believe it was Callicolone, (the Situation of which you will find in the Map of Homer's Battels) but it will appear from what Dolon ſays, ℣. 415. (of Hector's being encamp'd at the Monument of Ilus) that this Eminence muſt be the Tumulus on which that Monument was ſituate, and ſo the old Scholiaſt rightly explains it.

XVII.

‘VERSE 194. But now the laſt Deſpair ſurrounds our Hoſt.]’ The different Behaviour of Neſtor upon the ſame Occaſion, to different Perſons, is worthy Obſervation: Agamemnon was under a Concern and Dejection of Spirit from the Danger of his Army: To raiſe his Courage, Neſtor gave him hopes of Succeſs, and repreſented the State of Affairs in the moſt favou⯑rable view. But he applies himſelf to Diomed, who is at all times enterprizing and incapable of Deſpair, in a far diffe⯑rent manner: He turns the darkeſt ſide to him, and gives the worſt Proſpect of their Condition. This Conduct (ſays Euſtathius) ſhews a great deal of Prudence: 'tis the Province of Wiſdom to encourage the diſhearten'd with hopes, and to qualify the forward Courage of the daring with Fears; that the Valour of the one may not ſink thro' Deſpair, nor that of the other fly out into Raſhneſs.

XVIII.

‘VERSE 207. And now the Chiefs approach the nightly Guard.]’ It is uſual in Poetry to paſs over little Circumſtances, and carry on the greater. Menelaus in this Book was ſent to [126] call ſome of the Leaders; the Poet has too much Judgment to dwell upon the trivial Particulars of his performing his Meſſage, but lets us know by the Sequel that he had per⯑formed it. It would have clogg'd the poetical Narration to have told us how Menelaus waked the Heroes to whom he was diſpatched, and had been but a Repetition of what the Poet had fully deſcrib'd before: He therefore (ſays the ſame Author) drops theſe Particularities, and leaves them to be ſupply'd by the Imagination of the Reader. 'Tis ſo in Painting, the Painter does not always draw at the full length, but leaves what is wanting to be added by the Fancy of the Beholder.

XIX.

‘VERSE 211. So faithful Dogs, &c.]’ This Simile is in all its Parts juſt to the Deſcription it is meant to illuſtrate. The Dogs repreſent the Watch, the Flock the Greeks, the Fold their Camp, and the wild Beaſt that invades them, Hector. The Place, Poſture, and Circumſtance, are painted with the utmoſt Life and Nature.

Euſtathius takes notice of one Particular in this Deſcripti⯑on, which ſhews the manner in which their Centinels kept the Guard. The Poet tells us, that they ſate down with their Arms in their Hands. I think that this was not ſo prudent a Method as is now uſed; it being almoſt impoſſible for a Man that ſtands, to drop aſleep, whereas one that is ſeated may eaſily be overpower'd by the Fatigue of a long Watch. Euſtathius.

XX.

‘VERSE 228. Then o'er the Trench the following Princes led]’ The Reaſon why Neſtor did not open the Council within the Trenches, was with a deſign to encourage the Guards, and thoſe whom he intended to ſend to enter the Trojan Camp. It would have appear'd unreaſonable to ſend others over the En⯑trenchments upon a hazardous Enterprize, and not to have dared himſelf to ſet a Foot beyond them. This alſo could [127] not fail of inflaming the Courage of the Grecian Spies, who would know themſelves not to be far from Aſſiſtance, while ſo many of the Princes were paſſed over the Ditch as well as they. Euſtathius.

XXI.

‘VERSE 241. Is there (he ſaid) a Chief ſo greatly brave?]’ Neſtor propoſes his Deſign of ſending Spies into the Trojan Army with a great deal of Addreſs: He begins with a general Sentence, and will not chooſe any one Hero, for fear of diſ⯑guſting the reſt: Had Neſtor named the Perſon, he would have paid him a Complement that was ſure to be attended with the Hazard of his Life; and that Perſon might have be⯑liev'd that Neſtor expoſed him to a Danger, which his Honour would not let him decline; while the reſt might have reſented ſuch a Partiality, which would have ſeem'd to give the Preference to another before them. It therefore was Wiſdom in Neſtor to propoſe the Deſign in general Terms, whereby all the gallant Men that offer'd themſelves ſatisfy'd their Honour, by being willing to ſhare the Danger with Diomed; and it was no Diſgrace to be left behind, after they had offer'd to ha⯑zard their Lives for their Country. Euſtathius.

XXII.

‘VERSE 244. Or ſeize ſome ſtraggling Foe?]’ It is worthy Obſervation with how much Caution Neſtor opens this Deſign, and with how much Courage Diomed accepts it. Neſtor forms it with Coolneſs, but Diomed embraces it with Warmth and Reſolution. Neſtor only propoſes that ſome Man would approach the Enemy and intercept ſome ſtraggling Trojan, but Diomed offers to penetrate the very Camp. Neſtor was afraid leſt no one ſhould undertake it: Diomed overlooks the Danger, and preſents himſelf, as willing to march againſt the whole Army of Troy. Euſtathius.

XXIII.

‘VERSE 280. To Birth or Office no reſpect be paid.]’ Euſta⯑thius remarks that Agamemnon artfully ſteals away his Brother from Danger; the Foundneſs he bears to him makes him think him unequal to ſo bold an Enterprize, and prefer his Safety to his Glory. He farther adds, that the Poet intended to condemn that faulty Modeſty which makes one ſometimes prefer a Nobleman before a Perſon of more real Worth. To be greatly born is an Happineſs, but no Merit; whereas perſonal Virtues ſhew a Man worthy of that Greatneſs to which he is not born.

It appears from hence, how honourable it was of old to go upon theſe Parties by Night, or undertake thoſe Offices which are now only the Task of common Soldiers. Gideon in the Book of Judges (as Dacier obſerves) goes as a Spy in⯑to the Camp of Midian, tho' he was at that time General of the Iſraelites.

XXIV.

‘VERSE 288. Bleſt in his Conduct.]’ There requir'd ſome Addreſs in Diomed to make his Choice without offending the Grecian Princes; each of them might think it an Indignity to be refus'd ſuch a Place of Honour. Diomed therefore chuſes Ulyſſes not becauſe he is braver than the reſt, but be⯑cauſe he is wiſer. This part of his Character was allow'd by all the Leaders of the Army; and none of them thought it a Diſparagement to themſelves as they were Men of Valour, to ſee the firſt Place given to Ulyſſes in Point of Wiſdom. No doubt but the Poet by cauſing Diomed to make this Choice, intended to inſinuate that Valour ought always to be temper'd with Wiſdom; to the end that what is deſign'd with Pru⯑dence, may be executed with Reſolution. Euſtathius.

XXV.

‘VERSE 290. It fits thee not to praiſe me or to blame.]’ The Modeſty of Ulyſſes in this Paſſage is very remarkable; tho' undoubtedly he deſerved to be praiſed, yet he interrupts Diomed rather than he would be a Hearer of his own Commendation. What Diomed ſpoke in Praiſe of Ulyſſes, was utter'd to ju⯑ſtify his Choice of him to the Leaders of the Army; other⯑wiſe the Praiſe he had given him, would have been no better than Flattery. Euſtathius.

XXVI.

It has been objected that Ulyſſes is guilty of a threefold Tau⯑tology, when every word he utter'd ſhews the Neceſſity of being conciſe: If the Night was nigh ſpent, there was the leſs time to loſe in Tautologies. But this is ſo far from being a fault, that it is a Beauty: Ulyſſes dwells upon the Shortneſs of the time before the Day appears, in order to urge Diomed to the greater Speed in proſecuting the Deſign. Euſtathius.

XXVII.

‘VERSE 297. But a third remains.]’ One ought to take no⯑tice with how much Exactneſs Homer proportions his Inci⯑dents to the time of Action: Theſe two Books take up no more than the Compaſs of one Night; and this Deſign could not have been executed in any other Part of it. The Poet had before told us, that all the Plain was enlightned by the Fires of Troy, and conſequently no Spy could paſs over to their Camp, till they were almoſt ſunk and extinguiſh'd, which could not be till near the Morning.

'Tis obſervable that the Poet divides the Night into three Parts, from whence we may gather, that the Grecians had [130] three Watches during the Night: The firſt and ſecond of which were over, when Diomed and Ulyſſes ſet out to enter the Enemy's Camp. Euſtathius.

XXVIII.

‘VERSE 300. A two-edg'd Faulchion Thraſymed the brave, &c.]’ It is a very impertinent Remark of Scaliger, that Diomed ſhould not have gone from his Tent without a Sword. The Expe⯑dition he now goes upon could not be foreſeen by him at the time he roſe: He was awak'd of a ſudden, and ſent in haſte to call ſome of the Princes: Beſides, he went but to Coun⯑cil, and even then carry'd his Spear with him, as Homer had already inform'd us. I think if one were to ſtudy the Art of cavilling, there would be more occaſion to blame Virgil for what Scaliger praiſes him, giving a Sword to Euryalus when he had one before, Aen. 9. ℣. 303.

XXIX.

‘VERSE 302. Then in a Leathern Helm.]’ It may not be improper to obſerve how conformably to the Deſign the Poet arms theſe two Heroes: Ulyſſes has a Bow and Arrows, that he might be able to wound the Enemy at a diſtance, and ſo retard his Flight till he could overtake him; and for fear of a Diſcovery, Diomed is arm'd with an Helmet of Leather, that the glittering of it might not betray him. Euſtathius.

There is ſome Reſemblance in this whole Story to that of Niſus and Euryalus in Virgil: and as the Heroes are here ſucceſsful, and in Virgil unfortunate, it was perhaps as great an Inſtance of Virgil's Judgment to deſcribe the unhappy Youth in a glittering Helmet, which occaſion'd his Diſco⯑very, as it was in Homer to arm his ſucceſsful one in the contrary manner.

XXX.

‘VERSE 309. A well-prov'd Caſque.]’ Mr. Barnes has a pretty Remark on this Place, that it was probably from this [131] Deſcription, [...], that the ancient Painters and Tra⯑gic Poets conſtantly repreſented Ulyſſes with the Pileus on his Head; but this Particularity could not be preſerved with any Grace in the Tranſlation.

XXXI.

‘VERSE 312. This from Amyntor, &c.]’ The Succeſſion of this Helmet deſcending from one Hero to another, is imita⯑ted by Virgil in the Story of Niſus and Euryalus..

It was anciently a Cuſtom to make theſe military Preſents to brave Adventurers. So Jonathan in the firſt Book of Samuel, ſtript himſelf of the Robe that was upon him, and gave it to David; and his Garments, even to his Sword, and his Bow, and his Girdle. Ch. 18. ℣. 4.

XXXII.

‘VERSE 325. Ulyſſes hail'd the glad Omen.]’ This Paſſage ſufficiently juſtifies Diomed for his Choice of Ulyſſes: Diomed, who was moſt renown'd for Valour, might have given a wrong Interpretation to this Omen, and ſo have been diſcourag'd from proceeding in the Attempt. For tho' it really ſignify'd, that as the Bird was not ſeen, but only heard by the Sound of its Wings, ſo they ſhould not be diſcover'd by the Trojans, but perform Actions which all Troy ſhould hear with Sorrow; yet on the other hand it might imply, that as they diſco⯑vered the Bird by the Noiſe of its Wings, ſo they ſhould be betray'd by the Noiſe they ſhould make in the Trojan Ar⯑my. The Reaſon why Pallas does not ſend the Bird that is ſacred to her ſelf, but the Heron, is becauſe it is a Bird of [132] Prey, and denoted that they ſhould ſpoil the Trojans. Eu⯑ſtathius.

XXXIII.

‘VERSE 355. Thro' Duſt, thro' Blood, &c.]’ Zenophon has imitated this Paſſage; but what the Poet gives us in one Line, the Hiſtorian portracts into ſeveral Sentences. ‘ [...], &c.’ ‘"When the Battel was over, one might behold the Ground dy'd red with Blood, and cover'd with the Dead; Spears broken, and drawn Swords, ſome on the Ground, ſome in the Bodies of the ſlain.’ Euſtathius.

XXXIV.

‘VERSE 356. Nor leſs bold Hector, &c.]’ It is the Remark of Euſtathius, that Homer ſends out the Trojan Spy in this Place in a very different manner from the Grecian ones be⯑fore. Having been very particular in deſcribing the Counſel of the Greeks, he avoids tiring the Reader here with parallel Circumſtances, and paſſes it in general Terms. In the firſt, a wiſe old Man propoſes the Adventure with an Air of Deference; in the ſecond, a brave young Man with an Air of Authority. The one promiſes a ſmall Gift, but very honourable and certain; the other a great one, but uncertain and leſs honourable, be⯑cauſe 'tis given as a Reward. So that Diomed and Ulyſſes are inſpired with the Love of Glory, Dolon is poſſeſt with a Thirſt of Gain: They proceed with a ſage and circumſpect Valour, he with Raſhneſs and Vanity; they go in Conjunction, he alone; they croſs the Fields out of the Road, he follows the common Track. In all this there is a Contraſte that is ad⯑mirable, and a Moral that ſtrikes every Reader at firſt Sight.

XXXV.

‘VERSE 370. Dolon his Name.]’ 'Tis ſcarce to be conceiv'd with what Conciſeneſs the Poet has here given us the Name, the Fortunes, the Pedigree, the Office, the Shape, the Swift⯑neſs [133] of Dolon. He ſeems to have been eminent for nothing ſo much as for his Wealth, tho' undoubtedly he was by Place one of the firſt Rank in Troy: Hector ſummons him to this Aſſembly amongſt the Chiefs of Troy; nor was he un⯑known to the Greeks, for Diomed immediately after he had ſeiz'd him, calls him by his Name. Perhaps being an He⯑rald, he had frequently paſs'd between the Armies in the Ex⯑ecution of his Office.

The Ancients obſerv'd upon this Place, that it was the Of⯑fice of Dolon which made him offer himſelf to Hector. The Sacred Character gave him hopes that they would not violate his Perſon, ſhould he happen to be taken; and his Riches he knew were ſufficient to purchaſe his Liberty; be⯑ſides all which Advantages, he had hopes from his Swiftneſs to eſcape any Purſuers. Euſtathius.

XXXVI.

‘VERSE 374. Not bleſt by Nature with the Charms of Face.]’ The Original is,

Which ſome ancient Criticks thought to include a Contradi⯑ction, becauſe the Man who is ill-ſhap'd can hardly be ſwift in running; taking the word [...] as apply'd in general to the Air of the whole Perſon. But Ariſtotle acquaints us that word was as proper in regard to the Face only, and that it was uſual with the Cretans to call a Man with a handſome Face, [...]. So that Dolon might want a good Face, and yet be well-ſhap'd enough to make an excellent Racer. Poet. c. 26.

XXXVII.

‘VERSE 379. Swear to grant me, &c.]’ It is evident from this whole Narration, that Dolon as a Man of no Worth or Courage; his Covetouſneſs ſeems to be the ſole Motive of his undertaking this Exploit: and whereas Diomed neither deſir'd any Reward, nor when promis'd, requir'd any Aſſurance of [134] it; Dolon demands an Oath, and will not truſt the Promiſe of Hector; he every where diſcovers a baſe Spirit, and by the Sequel it will appear, that this vain Boaſter inſtead of diſcovering the Army of the Enemy, becomes a Traytor to his own. Euſtathius.

XXXVIII.

‘VERSE 380. Th' immortal Courſers, and the glitt'ring Car.]’ Hector in the foregoing Speech promiſes the beſt Horſes in the Grecian Army, as a Reward to any one who would un⯑dertake what he propos'd. Dolon immediately demands thoſe of Achilles, and confines the general Promiſe of Hector to the particular Horſes of that brave Hero.

There is ſomething very extraordinary in Hector's taking a ſolemn Oath, that he will give the Chariots and Steeds of Achilles to Dolon. The Ancients, ſays Euſtathius, knew not whoſe Vanity moſt to wonder at, that of Dolon, or Hector; the one for demanding this, or the other for promiſing it. Tho' we may take notice, that Virgil lik'd this Extravagance ſo well as to imitate it, where Aſcanius (without being asked) promiſes the Horſes and Armour of Turnus to Niſus, on his undertaking a like Enterprize.

Unleſs one ſhould think the Raſhneſs of ſuch a Promiſe bet⯑ter agreed with the Ardour of this youthful Prince, than with the Character of an experienc'd Warrior like Hector.

XXXIX.

‘VERSE 420.—Such the Space between As when two Teams of Mules, &c.]’ I wonder Euſtathius takes no notice of the manner of Ploughing uſed by the Ancients, which is deſcrib'd in theſe Verſes, and of which we have the beſt Account from Dacier. She is not ſatisfied with the Explanation given by [135] Didymus, that Homer meant the Space which Mules by their Swiftneſs gain upon Oxen that plow in the ſame Field. ‘"The Grecians (ſays ſhe) did not plow in the manner now in uſe. They firſt broke up the Ground with Oxen, and then plow'd it more lightly with Mules. When they em⯑ployed two Plows in a Field, they meaſured the Space they could Plow in a Day, and ſet their Plows at the two ends of that Space, and thoſe Plows proceeded toward each o⯑ther. This intermediate Space was conſtantly fix'd, but leſs in Proportion for two Plows of Oxen than for two of Mules; becauſe Oxen are ſlower and toil more in a Field that has not been yet turn'd up, whereas Mules are natu⯑rally ſwifter, and make greater ſpeed in a Ground that has already had the firſt Plowing. I therefore believe that what Homer calls [...], is the Space left by the Husband⯑men between two Plows of Mules which till the ſame Field: And as this Space was ſo much the greater in a Field al⯑ready plow'd by Oxen, he adds what he ſays of Mules, that they are ſwifter and fitter to give the ſecond Plowing than Oxen, and therefore diſtinguiſhes the Field ſo plowed by the Epithet of deep, [...]: For that Space was certain, of ſo many Acres or Perches, and always larger than in a Field as yet untill'd, which being heavier and more difficult, requir'd the Interval to be ſo much the leſs between two Plows of Oxen, becauſe they could not diſ⯑patch ſo much Work. Homer could not have ſerv'd him⯑ſelf of a juſter Compariſon for a thing that paſs'd in the Fields; at the ſame time he ſhews his Experience in the Art of Agriculture, and gives his Verſes a moſt agreeable Ornament, as indeed all the Images drawn from this Art are peculiarly entertaining.’

This manner of meaſuring a Space of Ground by a Com⯑pariſon from Plowing, ſeems to have been cuſtomary in thoſe times, from that Paſſage in the firſt Book of Samuel, Ch. 14. ℣. 14. And the firſt Slaughter which Jonathan and his Armour-bearer made, was about twenty Men, within as it were half a Furrow of an Acre of Land, which a Yoke of Oxen might plow.

XL.

‘VERSE 444. Quiver'd as he ſtood, &c.]’ The Poet here gives us a very lively Picture of a Perſon in the utmoſt Ago⯑nies of Fear: Dolon's Swiftneſs forſakes him, and he ſtands ſhackled by his Cowardice. The very Words expreſs the thing he deſcribes by the broken Turn of the Greek Verſes. And ſomething like it is aimed at in the Engliſh.

XLI.

‘VERSE 454. Be bold, nor fear to die.]’ 'Tis obſervable what Caution the Poet here uſes in reference to Dolon: Ulyſſes does not make him any Promiſes of Life, but only bids him very artfully not to think of dying: So that when Diomed kills him, he was not guilty of a Breach of Promiſe, and the Spy was deceiv'd rather by the Art and Subtlety of Ulyſſes, than by his Falſhood. Dolon's Underſtanding ſeems entirely to be diſturb'd by his Fears; he was ſo cautious as not to believe a Friend juſt before without an Oath, but here he truſts an E⯑nemy without ſo much as a Promiſe. Euſtathius.

XLII.

‘VERSE 467. Urg'd me unwilling.]’ 'Tis obſervable that the Cowardice of Dolon here betrays him into a Falſhood: Tho' Euſtathius is of Opinion that the word in the Original means no more than contrary to my Judgment.

XLIII.

‘VERSE 477. Where lies encamp'd.]’ The Night was now very far advanc'd, the Morning approach'd, and the two Heroes had their whole Deſign ſtill to execute: Ulyſſes therefore [137] complies with the Neceſſity of the Time, and makes his Queſtions very ſhort, tho' at the ſame time very full. In the like manner when Ulyſſes comes to ſhew Diomed the Chariot of Rheſus, he uſes a ſudden Tranſition without the uſual Form of ſpeaking.

XLIV.

‘VERSE 488. No certain Guards.]’ Homer to give an Air of Probability to this Narration, lets us underſtand that the Trojan Camp might eaſily be enter'd without a Diſcovery, be⯑cauſe there were no Centinels to guard it. This might hap⯑pen partly thro' the Security which their late Succeſs had thrown them into, and partly thro' the Fatigues of the for⯑mer Day. Beſides which, Homer gives us another very na⯑tural Reaſon, the Negligence of the auxiliar Forces, who be⯑ing Foreigners, had nothing to loſe by the Fall of Troy.

XLV.

‘VERSE 489. Where e'er yon Fires aſcend.]’ This is not to be underſtood of thoſe Fires which Hector commanded to be kindled at the beginning of this Night, but only of the houſhold Fires of the Trojans, diſtinct from the Auxiliars. The Expreſſion in the Original is ſomewhat remarkable; but implies thoſe People that were Natives of Troy; [...] and [...] ſignifying the ſame thing. So that [...] and [...] mean to have Houſes or Hearths in Troy. Eu⯑ſtathius.

XLVI.

‘VERSE 525. Divides the Neck.]’ It may ſeem a Piece of Barbarity in Diomed to kill Dolon thus, in the very Act of ſupplicating for Mercy. Euſtathius anſwers, that it was very neceſſary that it ſhould be ſo, for fear, if he had defer'd his Death, he might have cry'd out to the Trojans, who hear⯑ing his Voice, would have been upon their guard.

XLVII.

‘VERSE 578. Juſt then a deathful Dream Minerva ſent.]’ All the Circumſtances of this Action, the Night, Rheſus bu⯑ried in a profound Sleep, and Diomed with the Sword in his Hand hanging over the Head of that Prince, furniſh'd Ho⯑mer with the Idea of this Fiction, which repreſents Rheſus dy⯑ing faſt aſleep, and as it were beholding his Enemy in a Dream plunging a Sword into his Boſom. This Image is very na⯑tural, for a Man in this Condition awakes no farther than to ſee confuſedly what environs him, and to think it not a Re⯑ality, but a Viſion. Euſtathius, Dacier.

XLVIII.

‘VERSE 607. And wakes Hippocoon.]’ Apollo's waking the Trojans is only an Allegory to imply that the Light of the Morning awaken'd them. Euſtathius.

XLIX.

‘VERSE 624. Old Neſtor firſt perceiv'd, &c.]’ It may with an Appearance of Reaſon be ask'd, whence it could be that Neſtor, whoſe Senſe of hearing might be ſuppos'd to be im⯑pair'd by his great Age, ſhould be the firſt Perſon among ſo many youthful Warriors who hears the Tread of the Horſe's Feet at a diſtance? Euſtathius anſwers, that Neſtor had a particular Concern for the Safety of Diomed and Ulyſſes on this Occaſion, as he was the Perſon who, by propoſing the Undertaking, had expoſed them to a very ſignal Danger: and conſequently his extraordinary Care for their Preſervation, did more than ſupply the Diſadvantage of his Age. This agrees very well with what immediately follows; for the old Man breaks out into a Tranſport at the Sight of them, and in a wild ſort of Joy asks ſome Queſtions, which could not have proceeded from him, but while he was under that happy Surprize. Euſtathius.

L.

‘VERSE 656. Of Thracian Lineage, &c.]’ It is obſervable, ſays Euſtathius, that Homer in this Place unravels the Series of this Night's Exploits, and inverts the Order of the former Narration. This is partly occaſion'd by a Neceſſity of Ne⯑ſtor's Enquiries, and partly to relate the ſame thing in a diffe⯑way, that he might not tire the Reader with an exact Repe⯑tition of what he knew before.

LI.

‘VERSE 659. And twelve beſide, &c.]’ How comes it to paſs that the Poet ſhould here call Dolon the thirteenth that was ſlain, whereas he had already number'd up thirteen be⯑ſides him? Euſtathius anſwers, that he mentions Rheſus by himſelf, by way of Eminence. Then coming to recount the Thracians, he reckons twelve of 'em; ſo that taking Rheſus ſeparately, Dolon will make the thirteenth.

LII.

‘VERSE 674. They cleanſe their Bodies in the Main, &c.]’ We have here a Regimen very agreeable to the Simplicity and Auſterity of the old heroic Times. Theſe Warriors plunge into the Sea to waſh themſelves; for the ſalt Water is not on⯑ly more purifying than any other, but more corroborates the Nerves. They afterwards enter into a Bath, and rub their Bodies with Oil, which by ſoftening and moiſtening the Fleſh prevents too great a Diſſipation, and reſtores the natural Strength. Euſtathius.

LIII.

‘VERSE 677. In due Repaſt, &c.]’ It appears from hence with what Preciſeneſs Homer diſtinguiſhes the Time of theſe Actions. 'Tis evident from this Paſſage, that immediately [140] after their Return, it was Day-light; that being the Time of taking ſuch a Repaſt as is here deſcrib'd.

LIV.

I cannot conclude the Notes to this Book without obſer⯑ving, that what ſeems the principal Beauty of it, and what diſtinguiſhes it among all the others, is the Livelineſs of its Paintings: The Reader ſees the moſt natural Night-Scene in the World; he is led ſtep by ſtep with the Adventurers, and made the Companion of all their Expectations, and Uncertain⯑ties. We ſee the very Colour of the Sky, know the Time to a Minute, are impatient while the Heroes are arming, our Imagination ſteals out after them, becomes privy to all their Doubts, and even to the ſecret Wiſhes of their Hearts ſent up to Minerva. We are alarmed at the Approach of Dolon, hear his very Footſteps, aſſiſt the two Chiefs in purſuing him, and ſtop juſt with the Spear that arreſts him. We are per⯑fectly acquainted with the Situation of all the Forces, with the Figure in which they lie, with the Diſpoſition of Rheſus and the Thracians, with the Poſture of his Chariot and Horſes. The marſhy Spot of Ground where Dolon is killed, the Ta⯑marisk, or aquatic Plants upon which they hang his Spoils, and the Reeds that are heap'd together to mark the Place, are Circumſtances the moſt Pictureſque imaginable. And tho' it muſt be owned, that the human Figures in this Piece are excellent, and diſpoſed in the propereſt Actions; I cannot but confeſs my Opinion, that the chief Beauty of it is in the Proſpect, a finer than which was never drawn by any Pencil.

I.

AS Homer's Invention is in nothing more wonderful than in the great Variety of Characters with which his Poems are diverſify'd, ſo his Judgment appears in nothing more exact, than in that Propriety with which each Character is maintain'd. But this Exactneſs muſt be collected by a diligent Attention to his Conduct thro' the whole: and when the Particulars of each Character are laid together, we ſhall find them all proceeding from the ſame Temper and Diſpoſition of the Perſon. If this Obſervation be neglected, the Poet's Conduct will loſe much of its true Beauty and Harmony.

I fancy it will not be unpleaſant to the Reader, to conſider the Picture of Agamemnon drawn by ſo maſterly an Hand as that of Homer in its full length, after having ſeen him in ſeveral Views and Lights ſince the beginning of the Poem.

He is a Maſter of Policy and Stratagem, and maintains a good Underſtanding with his Council; which was but neceſſary conſidering how many different and independent Nations and Intereſts he had to manage: He ſeems fully conſcious of his own ſuperior Authority, and always knows the time when to exert it: He is perſonally very valiant, but not without ſome Mixture of Fierceneſs: Highly reſentful of the Injuries done [192] his Family, even more than Menelaus himſelf: Warm both in his Paſſions and Affections, particularly in the Love he bears his Brother. In ſhort, he is (as Homer himſelf in ano⯑ther Place deſcribes him) both a good King, and a great Warrior.

It is very obſervable how this Hero riſes in the Eye and E⯑ſteem of the Reader as the Poem advances: It opens with many Circumſtances very much to the Diſadvantage of his Character; he inſults the Prieſt of Apollo, and outrages Achilles: but in the ſecond Book he grows ſenſible of the Ef⯑fects of his Raſhneſs, and takes the Fault entirely upon him⯑ſelf: In the fourth he ſhews himſelf a skilful Commander, by exhorting, reproving and performing all the Offices of a good General: In the eighth he is deeply touch'd by the Sufferings of his Army, and makes all the Peoples Calamities his own: In the ninth he endeavours to reconcile himſelf to Achilles, and condeſcends to be the Petitioner, becauſe it is for the publick Good: In the tenth, finding thoſe Endea⯑vours ineffectual, his Concern keeps him the whole Night awake, in contriving all poſſible Methods to aſſiſt them: And now in the eleventh as it were reſolving himſelf to ſupply the want of Achilles, he grows prodigiouſly in his Valour, and performs Wonders in his ſingle Perſon.

Thus we ſee Agamemnon continually winning upon our E⯑ſteem, as we grow acquainted with him; ſo that he ſeems to be like that Goddeſs the Poet deſcribes, who was low at the firſt, but riſing by degrees, at laſt reaches the very Heavens.

II.

‘VERSE 5. When baleful Eris, &c.]’ With what a wonder⯑ful Sublimity does the Poet begin this Book? He awakens the Reader's Curioſity, and ſounds an Alarm to the approach⯑ing Battel. With what Magnificence does he uſher in the Deeds of Agamemnon: He ſeems for a while to have loſt all [193] view of the main Battel, and lets the whole Action of the Po|'em ſtand ſtill, to attend the Motions of this ſingle Hero. Inſtead of an Herald, he brings down a Goddeſs to inflame the Army; inſtead of a Trumpet or ſuch warlike Muſick, Juno and Minerva thunder over the Field of Battel: Jove rains down Drops of Blood, and averts his Eyes from ſuch a Scene of Horrors.

By the Goddeſs Eris is meant that Ardour and Impatience for the Battel which now inſpir'd the Grecian Army: They who juſt before were almoſt in Deſpair, now burn for the Fight, and breath nothing but War. Euſtathius.

III.

‘VERSE 14. Orthian Song.]’ This is a kind of an Odaic Song, invented and ſung on purpoſe to fire the Soul to noble Deeds in War. Such was that of Timotheus before Alexander the Great, which had ſuch an Influence upon him, that he leap'd from his Seat and laid hold on his Arms. Eu⯑ſtathius.

IV.

‘VERSE 26. King Cinyras.]’ 'Tis probable this Paſſage of Cinyras King of Cyprus alludes to a true Hiſtory; and what makes it the more ſo, is that this Iſland was famous for its Mines of ſeveral Metals. Euſtathius.

V.

‘VERSE 35. Arching bow'd, &c.]’ Euſtathius obſerves, that the Poet intended to repreſent the bending Figure of theſe Serpents, as well as their Colour, by comparing them to Rainbows. Dacier obſerves here how cloſe a Parallel this Paſ⯑ſage of Homer bears to that in Geneſis, where God tells Noah, I have ſet my Bow in the Clouds, that it may be for a Sign of the Covenant between me and the Earth.

VI.

‘VERSE 63. The Foot, and thoſe who wield The lighter Arms, ruſh forward.]’ Here we ſee the Order of Battel is inverted, and oppoſite to that which Neſtor propoſed in the fourth Book: For it is the Cavalry which is there ſuſtain'd by the Infantry; here the Infantry by the Cavalry. But to deliver my Opinion, I believe it was the Nearneſs of the Enemy that obliged Agamemnon to change the Diſpoſition of the Battel: He would break their Battalions with his Infantry, and com⯑plete their Defeat by his Cavalry, which ſhould fall upon the Flyers. Dacier.

VII.

‘VERSE 70. Red Drops of Blood.]’ Theſe Prodigies with which Homer embelliſhes his Poetry, are the ſame with thoſe which Hiſtory relates not as Ornaments, but as Truths. Nothing is more common in Hiſtory than Showers of Blood, and Philoſophy gives us the Reaſon of them: The two Battels which had been fought on the Plains of Troy, had ſo drench'd them with Blood, that a great Quantity of it might be ex⯑hal'd in Vapours and carry'd into the Air, and being there condens'd, fall down again in Dews and Drops of the ſame Colour. Euſtathius.

VIII.

‘VERSE 83. As the red Star.]’ We have juſt ſeen at full length the Picture of the General of the Greeks: Here we ſee Hector beautifully drawn in Miniature. This pro⯑ceeded from the great Judgment of the Poet: 'twas neceſſa⯑ry to ſpeak fully of Agamemnon, who was to be the chief He⯑ro of this Battel, and briefly of Hector, who had ſo often been ſpoken of at large before. This is an Inſtance that the Poet well knew when to be conciſe, and when to be copi⯑ous. It is impoſſible that any thing ſhould be more happily imagin'd than this Similitude: It is ſo lively, that we ſee Hector [195] ſometimes ſhining in Arms at the Head of his Troops: and then immediately loſe Sight of him, while he retires in the Ranks of the Army. Euſtathius.

IX.

‘VERSE 89. As ſweating Reapers.]’ 'Twill be neceſſary for the underſtanding of this Similitude, to explain the Method of Mowing in Homer's Days: They mowed in the ſame man⯑ner as they plowed, beginning at the Extremes of the Field, which was equally divided, and proceeding till they met in the middle of it. By this means they rais'd an Emulati⯑on between both Parties, which ſhould finiſh their Share firſt. If we conſider this Cuſtom, we ſhall find it a very happy Com⯑pariſon to the two Armies advancing againſt each other, to⯑gether with an exact Reſemblance in every Circumſtance the Poet intended to illuſtrate.

X.

‘VERSE 119. What time in ſome ſequeſter'd Vale The weary Woodman, &c.]’ One may gather from hence, that in Ho⯑mer's Time they did not meaſure the Day by Hours, but by the Progreſſion of the Sun; and diſtinguiſh'd the Parts of it by the moſt noted Employments; as in the 12 of the Odyſſeis, ℣. 439. from the riſing of the Judges, and here from the dining of the Labourer.

It may perhaps be entertaining to the Reader to ſee a ge⯑neral Account of the Menſuration of Time among the Anci⯑ents, which I ſhall take from Spondanus. At the beginning of the World it is certain there was no Diſtinction of Time but by the Light and Darkneſs, and the whole Day was included in the general Terms of the Evening and the Morning. Mun⯑ſter makes a pretty Obſervation upon this Cuſtom: Our long⯑liv'd Forefathers (ſays he) had not ſo much occaſion to be exact Obſervers how the Day paſs'd, as their frailer Sons, whoſe Shortneſs of Life makes it neceſſary to diſtinguiſh every Part of Time, and ſuffer none of it to ſlip away without their Ob⯑ſervation.

[196] It is not improbable but that the Chaldaeans, many Ages after the Flood, were the firſt who divided the Day into Hours; they being the firſt who applied themſelves with any Succeſs to Aſtrology. The moſt ancient Sun-dial we read of is that of Achaz, mention'd in the ſecond Book of Kings, Ch. 20. about the Time of the building of Rome: But as theſe were of no uſe on clouded Days and in the Night; there was another Invention of meaſuring the Parts of Time by Water; but that not being ſufficiently exact, they laid it a⯑ſide for another by Sand.

'Tis certain the Uſe of Dials was earlier among the Greeks than the Romans; 'twas above three hundred Years after the building of Rome before they knew any thing of them: But yet they had divided the Day and Night into twenty four Hours, as appears from Varro and Macrobius, tho' they did not count the Hours as we do, numerically, but from Midnight to Mid⯑night, and diſtinguiſh'd them by particular Names, as by the Cock crowing, the Dawn, the Midday, &c. The firſt Sun-dial we read of among the Romans which divided the Day into Hours, is mention'd by Pliny, lib. 1. cap. 20. fixt upon the Temple of Quirinus by L. Papyrius the Cenſor, about the 12th Year of the Wars with Pyrrhus. But the firſt that was of any Uſe to the Publick was ſet up near the Roſtra in the Forum by Valerius Meſſala the Conſul, after the taking of Catana in Sicily; from whence it was brought thirty Years after the firſt had been ſet up by Papyrius; but this was ſtill an imper⯑fect one, the Lines of it not exactly correſponding with the ſeveral Hours. Yet they made uſe of it many Years, till Q. Marcius Philippus placed another by it greatly improved: but theſe had ſtill one common Defect of being uſeleſs in the Night, and when the Skies were overcaſt. All theſe In⯑ventions being thus ineffectual, Scipio Naſica ſome Years af⯑terwards meaſur'd the Day and Night into Hours from the dropping of Water.

Yet near this time, it may be gather'd that Sun-dials were very frequent in Rome, from a Fragment preſerv'd by Aulus Gellius and aſcrib'd to Plautus: The Lines are ſo beau⯑tiful, that I cannot deny the Reader the Satisfaction of ſeeing them. They are ſuppoſed to be ſpoken by an hungry Para⯑ſite, [197] upon a Sight of one of theſe Dials.

We find frequent mention of the Hours in the Courſe of this Poem; but to prevent any Miſtake, it may not be improper to take notice, that they muſt always be underſtood to mean the Seaſons, and not the Diviſion of the Day by Hours.

XI.

‘VERSE 125. The Greeks impulſive Might.]’ We had juſt before ſeen that all the Gods were withdrawn from the Bat⯑tel; that Jupiter was reſolv'd even againſt the Inclinations of them all to honour the Trojans. Yet we here ſee the Greeks breaking thro' them: The Love the Poet bears to his Coun⯑trymen makes him aggrandize their Valour, and over-rule even the Decrees of Fate. To vary his Battels, he ſuppoſes the Gods to be abſent this Day; and they are no ſooner gone, but the Courage of the Greeks prevails, even againſt the De⯑termination of Jupiter. Euſtathius.

XII.

‘VERSE 135. Naked to the Sky.]’ Euſtathius refines upon this Place, and believes that Homer intended, by particulari⯑zing the Whiteneſs of the Limbs, to ridicule the effeminate Education of theſe unhappy Youths. But as ſuch an Inter⯑pretation may be thought below the Majeſty of an Epic Poem, and a kind of Barbarity to inſult the unfortunate, I thought it better to give the Paſſage an Air of Compaſſion. As the [198] Words are equally capable of either meaning, I imagin'd the Reader would be more pleas'd with the Humanity of the one, than with the Satyr of the other.

XIII.

‘VERSE 143. Theſe on the Mountains once Achilles found.]’ Homer, ſays Euſtathius, never lets any Opportunity paſs of mentioning the Hero of his Poem, Achilles: He gives here an Inſtance of his former Reſentment, and at once varies his Poetry, and exalts his Character. Nor does he mention him curſorily; he ſeems unwilling to leave him; and when he purſues the Thread of the Story in a few Lines, takes occa⯑ſion to ſpeak again of him. This is a very artful Conduct, by mentioning him ſo frequently, he takes care that the Rea⯑der ſhould not forget him, and ſhews the Importance of that Hero, whoſe Anger is the Subject of his Poem. Euſtathius.

XIV.

'Tis obſervable that Homer with a great deal of Art inter⯑weaves the true Hiſtory of the Trojan War in his Poem: He here gives a Circumſtance that carries us back from the tenth Year of the War to the very beginning of it. So that al⯑tho' the Action of the Poem takes up but a ſmall Part of the laſt Year of the War, yet by ſuch Incidents as theſe we are taught a great many Particulars that happen thro' the whole Series of it. Euſtathius.

XV.

‘VERSE 188. Lopp'd his Hands away.]’ I think one cannot but compaſſionate the Fate of theſe Brothers, who ſuffer for the Sins of their Father, notwithſtanding the Juſtice which the Commentators find in this Action of Agamemnon. And I can much leſs imagine that his cutting off their Hands was [199] meant for an expreſs Example againſt Bribery, in Revenge for the Gold which Antimachus had received from Paris. Eu⯑ſtathius is very refining upon this Point; but the grave Spon⯑danus out-does them all, who has found there was an excel⯑lent Conceit in cutting off the Hands and Head of the Son; the firſt, becauſe the Father had been for laying Hands on the Grecian Embaſſadors; and the ſecond, becauſe it was from his Head that the Advice proceeded of detaining He⯑lena.

XVI.

‘VERSE 193. Now by the Foot the flying Foot, &c.]’ After Homer with a poetical Juſtice has puniſh'd the Sons of An⯑timachus for the Crimes of the Father; he carries on the Narration, and preſents all the Terrors of the Battel to our view: We ſee in the lively Deſcription the Men and Chariots overthrown, and hear the Tramplings of the Horſes Feet. Thus the Poet very artfully by ſuch ſudden Alarms awakens the Attention of the Reader, that is apt to be tired and grow remiſs by a plain and more cool Narration.

XVII.

‘VERSE 197. The Braſs-hoof'd Steeds.]’ Euſtathius obſerves that the Cuſtom of ſhoeing Horſes was in uſe in Homer's Time, and calls the Shoes [...], from the Figure of an Half-Moon.

XVIII.

‘VERSE 212. More grateful, now, to Vulturs than their Wives.]’ This is a Reflection of the Poet, and ſuch an one as ariſes from a Sentiment of Compaſſion; and indeed there is nothing more moving than to ſee thoſe Heroes, who were the Love and Delight of their Spouſes, reduc'd ſuddenly to ſuch a Con⯑dition of Horror, that their very Wives dare not look upon them. I was very much ſurprized to find a Remark of Eu⯑ſtathius upon this, which ſeems very wrong and unjuſt: He [200] would have it that there is in this Place an Ellipſis, ‘"For, ſays he, which comprehends a ſevere Raillery: Homer would imply that thoſe dead Warriors were now more a⯑greeable to Vulturs, than they had ever been in all their Days to their Wives.’ This is very ridiculous; to ſup⯑poſe that theſe unhappy Women did not love their Husbands, is to inſult them barbarouſly in their Affliction; and every Body can ſee that ſuch a Thought in this Place would have appear'd mean, frigid, and out of Seaſon. Homer always endeavours to excite Compaſſion by the Grief of the Wives, whoſe Husbands are kill'd in the Battel. Dacier.

XIX.

‘VERSE 217. Now paſt the Tomb where ancient Ilus lay.]’ By the Exactneſs of Homer's Deſcription we ſee as in a Land⯑ſcape the very Place where this Battel was fought. Agamem⯑non drives the Trojans from the Tomb of Ilus, where they en⯑camp'd all the Night; that Tomb ſtood in the middle of the Plain: From thence he purſues them by the wild Fig-Tree to the Beech-Tree, and from thence to the very Scaean Gate. Thus the Scene of Action is fix'd, and we ſee the very Rout through which the one retreats and the other advances. Eu⯑ſtathius.

XX.

‘VERSE 241. Iris with haſte thy golden Wings diſplay.]’ 'Tis evident that ſome ſuch Contrivance as this was neceſſa⯑ry; The Trojans, we learn from the beginning of this Book, were to be victorious this Day: But if Jupiter had not now interpos'd, they had been driven even within the Walls of Troy. By this means alſo the Poet conſults both for the Ho⯑nour of Hector and that of Agamemnon. Agamemnon has time enough to ſhew the Greatneſs of his Valour, and it is no Diſgrace to Hector not to encounter him when Jupiter inter⯑poſes.

Euſtathius obſerves, that the Poet gives us here a Sketch of what is drawn out at large in the Story of this whole Book: [201] This he does to raiſe the Curioſity of the Reader, and make him impatient to hear thoſe great Actions which muſt be perform'd before Agamemnon can retire, and Hector be vi⯑ctorious.

XXI.

‘VERSE 281. Ye ſacred Nine!]’ The Poet to win the At⯑tention of the Reader, and ſeeming himſelf to be ſtruck with the Exploits of Agamemnon while he recites them, (who when the Battel was rekindled, ruſhes out to engage his Enemies) invokes not one Muſe as he did in the beginning of the Po⯑em; but as if he intended to warn us that he was about to relate ſomething ſurprizing, he invokes the whole Nine; and then as if he had received their Inſpiration, goes on to deliver what they ſuggeſted to him. By means of this Apoſtrophe, the Imagination of the Reader is ſo fill'd, that he ſeems not only preſent, but active in the Scene to which the Skill of the Poet has tranſported him. Euſtathius.

XXII.

‘VERSE 283. Iphidamas the bold and young.]’ Homer here gives us the Hiſtory of this Iphidamas, his Parentage, the Place of his Birth, and many Circumſtances of his pri⯑vate Life. This he does to diverſify his Poetry, and to ſoften with ſome amiable Embelliſhments the continual Horrors that muſt of Neceſſity ſtrike the Imagination in an uninterrupted Narration of Blood and Slaughter. Euſtathius.

XXIII.

‘VERSE 290. Theano's Siſter.]’ That the Reader may not be ſhock'd at the Marriage of Iphidamas with his Mother's Siſter, it may not be amiſs to obſerve from Euſtathius, that Conſanguinity was no Impediment in Greece in the Days of Homer: Nor is Iphidamas ſingular in this kind of Marriage, for Diomed was married to his own Aunt as well as he.

XXIV.

‘VERSE 349. The fierce Ilythiae.]’ Theſe Ilythiae are the Goddeſſes that Homer ſuppoſes to preſide over Child-Birth: He arms their Hands with a kind of an Inſtrument, from which a pointed Dart is ſhot into the diſtreſſed Mother, as an Arrow is from a Bow: So that as Eris has her Torch and Jupiter his Thunder, theſe Goddeſſes have their Darts which they ſhoot into Women in Travail. He calls them the Daughters of Juno, becauſe ſhe preſides over the Marri⯑age-Bed. Euſtathius. Here (ſays Dacier) we find the Style of the holy Scripture, which to expreſs a ſevere Pain, uſually compares it to that of Women in Labour. Thus David, Pain came upon them as upon a Woman in Travail; and Iſaiah, They ſhall grieve as a Woman in Travail; and all the Prophets are full of the like Expreſſions.

XXV.

‘VERSE 358. Lo angry Jove forbids your Chief to ſtay.]’ Eu⯑ſtathius remarks upon the Behaviour of Agamemnon in his preſent Diſtreſs: Homer deſcribes him as rack'd with almoſt intolerable Pains, yet he does not complain of the Anguiſh he ſuffers, but that he is obliged to retire from the Fight.

This indeed as it prov'd his undaunted Spirit, ſo did it likewiſe his Wiſdom: Had he ſhew'd any unmanly Dejecti⯑on, it would have diſpirited the Army; but his Intrepidity makes them believe his Wound leſs dangerous, and renders them not ſo highly concern'd for the Abſence of their Ge⯑neral.

XXVI.

‘VERSE 388. Say, Muſe, when Jove the Trojan's Glory crown'd.]’ The Poet juſt before has given us an Invocation of the Muſes, to make us attentive to the great Exploits of Agamemnon. Here we have one with regard to Hector, but this laſt may perhaps be more eaſily accounted for than the [203] other. For in that, after ſo ſolemn an Invocation, we might reaſonably have expected Wonders from the Hero: whereas in Reality he kills but one Man before he himſelf is wounded; and what he does afterwards ſeems to proceed from a frantic Valour, ariſing from the Smart of the Wound: We do not find by the Text that he kills one Man, but over⯑throws ſeveral in his Fury, and then retreats: So that one would imagine he invoked the Muſes only to deſcribe his Retreat.

But upon a nearer view, we ſhall find that Homer ſhews a commendable Partiality to his own Countryman and Hero Agamemnon: He ſeems to detract from the Greatneſs of Hector's Actions, by aſcribing them to Jupiter; whereas Aga⯑memnon conquers by the Dint of Bravery: And that this is a juſt Obſervation, will appear by what follows. Thoſe Greeks that fall by the Sword of Hector, he paſſes over as if they were all vulgar Men: He ſays nothing of them but that they dy'd; and only briefly mentions their Names, as if he endeavour'd to conceal the Overthrow of the Greeks. But when he ſpeaks of his favourite General Agamemnon, he expatiates and dwells upon his Actions; and ſhews us, that thoſe that fell by his Hand were all Men of Diſtinction, ſuch as were the Sons of Priam, of Antenor, and Antimachus. 'Tis true, Hector kill'd as many Leaders of the Greeks as A⯑gamemnon of the Trojans, and more of the common Soldiers; but by particularizing the Deaths of the Chiefs of Troy, he ſets the Deeds of Agamemnon in the ſtrongeſt Point of Light, and by his Silence in reſpect to the Leaders whom Hector ſlew, he caſts a Shade over the Greatneſs of the Action, and conſequently it appears leſs conſpicuous.

XXVII.

‘VERSE 406. But wiſe Ulyſſes call'd Tydides forth.]’ There is ſomething inſtructive in the moſt ſeemingly common Paſ⯑ſages of Homer, who by making the wiſe Ulyſſes direct the brave Diomed in all the Enterprizes of the laſt Book, and by maintaining the ſame Conduct in this, intended to ſhew this Moral, that Valour ſhould always be under the Guidance of [204] Wiſdom: Thus in the eighth Book when Diomed could ſcarce be reſtrain'd by the Thunder of Jupiter, Neſtor is at hand to moderate his Courage; and this Hero ſeems to have made a very good uſe of thoſe Inſtructions; his Valour no longer runs out into Raſhneſs, tho' he is too brave to decline the Fight, yet he is too wiſe to fight againſt Jupiter.

XXVIII.

‘VERSE 448. Great Diomed himſelf was ſeiz'd with Fear.]’ There ſeems to be ſome Difficulty in theſe Words: This brave Warrior, who has frequently met Hector in the Battel, and offer'd himſelf for the ſingle Combat, is here ſaid to be ſeiz'd with Fear at the very Sight of him: This may be thought not to agree with his uſual Behaviour, and to dero⯑gate from the general Character of his Intrepidity: But we muſt remember, that Diomed himſelf has but juſt told us, that Jupiter fought againſt the Grecians; and that all the Endeavours of himſelf and Ulyſſes would be in vain: This Fear therefore of Diomed is far from being diſhonourable: it is not Hector, but Jupiter of whom he is afraid. Eu⯑ſtathius.

XXIX.

‘VERSE 477. Ilus' Monument.]’ I thought it neceſſary juſt to put the Reader in mind that the Battel ſtill continues near the Tomb of Ilus: By a juſt Obſervation of that, we may with Pleaſure ſee the various Turns of the Fight, and how every Step of Ground is won or loſt as the Armies are re⯑puls'd or victorious.

XXX.

One would think that the Poet at all times endeavour'd to condemn the Practice of ſtripping the Dead, during the Heat of Action: He frequently deſcribes the Victor wounded, while [205] he is ſo employ'd about the Bodies of the ſlain: Thus in the preſent Book we ſee Agamemnon, Diomed, Ulyſſes, Elephenor, and Eurypylus, all ſuffer as they ſtrip the Men they ſlew; and in the ſixth Book he brings in the wiſe Neſtor directly forbid⯑ding it. Euſtathius.

XXXI.

‘VERSE 483. But pierc'd his Foot.]’ It cannot but be a Sa⯑tisfaction to the Reader to ſee the Poet ſmitten with the Love of his Country, and at all times conſulting its Honour: This Day was to be glorious to Troy, but Homer takes care to remove with Honour moſt of the braveſt Greeks from the Field of Battel, before the Trojans can conquer. Thus Agamemnon, Diomed, and Ulyſſes muſt bleed, before the Poet can allow his Countrymen to retreat. Euſtathius.

XXXII.

‘VERSE 484. The laughing Trojan.]’ Euſtathius is of Opi⯑nion that the Poet intended to ſatyrize in this Place the un⯑warlike Behaviour of Paris: Such an effeminate Laugh and Geſture is unbecoming a brave Warrior, but agrees very well with the Character of Paris: He is before ſaid to be more delighted with the ſoft amorous Lyre, than with the warlike Sound of the Battel: Nor do I remember that in the whole Iliad any one Perſon is deſcrib'd in ſuch an indecent Tranſ⯑port, tho' upon a much more glorious or ſucceſsful Action. He concludes his ludicrous Inſult with a Circumſtance very much to the Honour of Diomed, and very much to the Diſ⯑advantage of his own Character, who reveals to an Enemy the Fears of Troy, and compares the Greeks to Lions, and the Trojans to Sheep. Diomed is the very reverſe of him; he de⯑ſpiſes and leſſens the Wound he receiv'd, and in the midſt of his Pain, would not gratify his Enemy with the little Joy he might give him by letting him know it.

XXXIII.

‘VERSE 513. And queſtions thus his own unconquer'd Soul.]’ This is a Paſſage which very much ſtrikes me: We have here a brave Hero making a noble Soliloquy, or rather cal⯑ling a Council within himſelf, when he was ſingly to encoun⯑ter an Army: 'Tis impoſſible for the Reader not to be in Pain for ſo gallant a Man in ſuch an imminent Danger; he muſt be impatient for the Event, and his whole Curioſity muſt be awaken'd till he knows the Fate of Ulyſſes, who ſcorn'd to fly, tho' encompaſs'd by an Army.

XXXIV.

‘VERSE 550. By Pallas' Care.]’ It is a juſt Obſervation, that there is no Moral ſo evident, or ſo conſtantly carry'd on through the Iliad, as the Neceſſity Mankind at all times has of divine Aſſiſtance. Nothing is perform'd with Succeſs, without particular mention of this; Hector is not ſav'd from a Dart without Apollo, or Ulyſſes without Minerva. Homer is perpetually acknowledging the Hand of God in all Events, and aſcribing to that only all the Victories, Triumphs, Re⯑wards, or Puniſhments of Men. Thus the grand Moral he laid down at the Entrance of his Poem, [...], The Will of God was fulfill'd, runs thro' his whole Work, and is with a moſt remarkable Care and Conduct put into the Mouths of his greateſt and wiſeſt Perſons on every Oc⯑caſion.

Homer generally makes ſome peculiar God attend on each Hero: For the Ancients believ'd that every Man had his particular Tutelary Deity; theſe in ſucceeding Times were called Daemons or Genii, who (as they thought) were given to Men at the Hour of their Birth, and directed the whole Courſe of their Lives. See Cebes's Tablet. Menander, as he is cited by Ammianus Marcellinus, ſtyles them [...], the inviſible Guides of Life.

XXXV.

‘VERSE 566. Fam'd Son of Hippaſus.]’ Homer has been blam'd by ſome late Cenſurers for making his Heroes addreſs Diſcourſes to the Dead. Paſſion (ſays Dacier) dictates theſe Speeches, and it is generally to the dying, not to the dead, that they are addreſs'd. However, one may ſay, that they are often rather Reflections than Inſults. Were it otherwiſe, Homer deſerves not to be cenſured for feigning what Hiſtories have reported as Truth. We find in Plutarch that Mark An⯑tony upon Sight of the dead Body of Brutus, ſtopp'd and re⯑proach'd him with the Death of his Brother Caius, whom Brutus had kill'd in Macedonia in Revenge for the Murder of Cicero. I muſt confeſs I am not altogether pleas'd with the Railleries he ſometimes uſes to a vanquiſh'd Warrior, which Inhumanities if ſpoken to the dying, would I think be yet worſe than after they were dead.

XXXVI.

‘VERSE 572. And hov'ring Vulturs ſcream around their Prey.]’ This is not literally tranſlated, what the Poet ſays gives us the moſt lively Picture imaginable of the Vulturs in the Act of tearing their Prey with their Bills: They beat the Body with their Wings as they rend it, which is a very natural Cir⯑cumſtance, but ſcarce poſſible to be copy'd by a Tranſlator without loſing the Beauty of it.

XXXVII.

‘VERSE 573. Me Greece ſhall honour when I meet my Doom, With ſolemn Funerals.—]’ We may ſee from ſuch Paſſages as theſe that Honours paid to the Aſhes of the dead have been greatly valued in all Ages: This poſthumous Honour was paid as a publick Acknowledgment that the Perſon deceas'd had deſerv'd well of his Country, and conſequently was an Incitement to the living to imitate his Actions: In this view there is no Man but would be ambitious of them, not as they [208] are Teſtimonies of Titles or Riches, but of diſtinguiſh'd Merit.

XXXVIII.

‘VERSE 592. Great Ajax like the God of War attends.]’ The Silence of other Heroes on many Occaſions is very beautiful in Homer, but peculiarly ſo in Ajax, who is a gallant rough Soldier, and readier to act than to ſpeak: The preſent Ne⯑ceſſity of Ulyſſes requir'd ſuch a Behaviour, for the leaſt Delay might have been fatal to him: Ajax therefore complying both with his own Inclinations, and the urgent Condition of Ulyſſes, makes no Reply to Menelaus, but immediately ha⯑ſtens to his Relief. The Reader will obſerve how juſtly the Poet maintains this Character of Ajax throughout the whole Iliad, who is often ſilent when he has an Opportunity to ſpeak, and when he ſpeaks, 'tis like a Soldier, with a martial Air, and always with Brevity. Euſtathius.

XXXIX.

‘VERSE 637. A wiſe Phyſician.]’ The Poet paſſes a very ſignal Commendation upon Phyſicians: The Army had ſeen ſeveral of the braveſt of their Heroes wounded, yet were not ſo much diſpirited for them all, as they were at the ſingle Danger of Machaon: But the Perſon whom he calls a Phy⯑ſician, ſeems rather to be a Surgeon. The cutting out of Arrows, and applying Anodynes being the Province of the latter: However (as Euſtathius ſays) we muſt conclude that Machaon was both a Phyſician and Surgeon, and that thoſe two Profeſſions were practiſed by one Perſon.

It is reaſonable to think from the Frequency of their Wars, that the Profeſſion in thoſe Days was chiefly Chirurgical: Celſus ſays expreſſly that the Diaetetic was long after invented; but that Botany was in great Eſteem and Practice, appears from the Stories of Medea, Circe, &c. We often find men⯑tion among the moſt ancient Writers, of Women eminent in that Art; as of Agamede in this very Book, ℣. 740. who is ſaid (like Solomon) to have known the Virtues of every Plant [209] that grew on the Earth, and of Polydamne in the fourth Book of the Odyſſeis, ℣. 227, &c.

Homer, I believe, knew all that was known in his Time of the Practice of theſe Arts. His Methods of extracting of Arrows, ſtanching of Blood by the bitter Root, fomenting of Wounds with warm Water, applying proper Bandages and Remedies, are all according to the true Precepts of Art. There are likewiſe ſeveral Paſſages in his Works that ſhew his Knowledge of the Virtues of Plants, even of thoſe Qua⯑lities which are commonly (tho 'perhaps erroneouſly) aſcri⯑bed to them, as of the Moly againſt Enchantments, the Wil⯑low which cauſes Barrenneſs, the Nepenthe, &c.

XL.

‘VERSE 669. But partial Jove, &c.]’ The Addreſs of Ho⯑mer in bringing off Ajax with Decency is admirable: He makes Hector afraid to approach him: He brings down Ju⯑piter himſelf to terrify him; ſo that he retreats not from a Mortal, but a God.

This whole Paſſage is inimitably juſt and beautiful, we ſee Ajax drawn in the moſt bold and ſtrong Colours, and in a manner alive in the Deſcription. Wee ſee him ſlowly and ſullenly retreat between two Armies, and even with a Look repulſing the one, and protecting the other: There is not one Line but what reſembles Ajax; the Character of a ſtubborn but undaunted Warrior is perfectly maintain'd, and muſt ſtrike the Reader at the firſt view. He compares him firſt to the Lion for his Undauntedneſs in Fighting, and then to the Aſs for his ſtubborn Slowneſs in retreating; tho' in the latter Compariſon there are many other Points of Like⯑neſs that enliven the Image: The Havock he makes in the Field is repreſented by the tearing and trampling down the Harveſts; and we ſee the Bulk, Strength, and Obſtinacy of the Hero, when the Trojans in reſpect to him are compared but to Troops of Boys that impotently endeavour to drive him away.

Euſtathius is ſilent as to thoſe Objections which have been rais'd againſt this laſt Simile, for a pretended Want of Deli⯑cacy: [210] This alone is Conviction to me that they are all of a later Date: For elſe he would not have fail'd to have vindica⯑ted his favourite Poet in a Paſſage that had been applauded many hundreds of Years, and ſtood the Teſt of Ages.

But Monſieur Dacier has done it very well in his Remarks upon Ariſtotle. ‘"In the time of Homer (ſays that Author) an Aſs was not in ſuch Circumſtances of Contempt as in ours: The Name of that Animal was not then converted into a Term of Reproach, but it was a Beaſt upon which Kings and Princes might be ſeen with Dignity. And it will not be very diſcreet to ridicule this Compariſon, which the holy Scripture has put into the Mouth of Jacob, who ſays in the Benediction of his Children, Iſſachar ſhall be as a ſtrong Aſs.’ Monſieur de la Motte gives up this Point, and excuſes Homer for his Choice of this Animal, but is un⯑happily diſguſted at the Circumſtance of the Boys, and the obſtinate Gluttony of the Aſs, which he ſays are Images too mean to repreſent the determin'd Valour of Ajax, and the Fury of his Enemies. It is anſwer'd by Madam Dacier, that what Homer here images is not the Gluttony; but the Pati⯑ence, the Obſtinacy, and Strength of the Aſs (as Euſtathius had before obſerv'd.) To judge rightly of Compariſons, we are not to examine if the Subject from whence they are de⯑riv'd be great or little, noble or familiar; but we are prin⯑cipally to conſider if the Image produc'd be clear and lively, if the Poet has the Skill to dignify it by poetical Words, and if it perfectly paints the thing it is intended to repreſent. A Company of Boys whipping a Top is very far from a great and noble Subject, yet Virgil has not ſcrupled to draw from it a Similitude which admirably expreſſes a Princeſs in the Vi⯑olence of her Paſſion.

[211] However, upon the whole, a Tranſlator owes ſo much to the Taſte of the Age in which he lives, as not to make too great a Complement to a former; and this induced me to omit the mention of the word Aſs in the Tranſlation. I believe the Reader will pardon me, if on this Occaſion I tranſcribe a Paſſage from Mr. Boileau's Notes on Longinus.

‘"There is nothing (ſays he) that more diſgraces a Compoſition than the Uſe of mean and vulgar Words; inſomuch that (generally ſpeaking) a mean Thought expreſs'd in noble Terms, is more tolerable than a no⯑ble Thought expreſs'd in mean ones. The Reaſon where⯑of is, that all the World are not capable to judge of the Juſtneſs and Force of a Thought; but there's ſcarce a⯑ny Man who cannot, eſpecially in a living Language, per⯑ceive the leaſt Meanneſs of Words. Nevertheleſs very few Writers are free from this Vice: Longinus accuſes Herodo⯑tus, the moſt polite of all the Greek Hiſtorians, of this Defect; and Livy, Saluſt, and Virgil have not eſcaped the ſame Cenſure. Is it not then very ſurprizing, that no Reproach on this Account has been ever caſt upon Homer? tho' he has compos'd two Poems each more voluminous than the Aeneid; and tho' no Author whatever has deſ⯑cended more frequently than he into a Detail of little Par⯑ticularities. Yet he never uſes Terms which are not noble, or if he uſes humble Words or Phraſes, it is with ſo much Art and Induſtry, that, as Dionyſius obſerves, they become noble and harmonious. Undoubtedly if there had been any Cauſe to charge him with this Fault, Longinus had ſpared him no more than Herodotus. We may learn from hence the Ignorance of thoſe modern Criticks, who re⯑ſolving to judge of the Greek without the Knowledge of it, and never reading Homer but in low and inelegant Tranſlations, impute the Meanneſſes of his Tranſlators to the Poet himſelf; and ridiculouſly blame a Man who ſpoke in one Language, for ſpeaking what is not elegant in ano⯑ther. They ought to know that the Words of different Languages are not always exactly correſpondent; and it may often happen that a Word which is very noble in Greek, cannot be render'd in another Tongue but by one [212] which is very mean. Thus the word Aſinus in Latin, and Aſs in Engliſh, are the vileſt imaginable, but that which ſignifies the ſame Animal in Greek and Hebrew, is of Dig⯑nity enough to be employed on the moſt magnificent Oc⯑caſions. In like manner the Terms of a Hogherd and Cowkeeper in our Language are inſufferable, but thoſe which anſwer to them in Greek, [...] and [...], are graceful and harmonious: and Virgil who in his own Tongue en⯑titled his Eclogs Bucolica, would have been aſhamed to have called them in ours, the Dialogues of Cowkeepers.’

XLI.

‘VERSE 713. Back to the Lines the wounded Greek retires.]’ We ſee here almoſt all the Chiefs of the Grecian Army with⯑drawn: Neſtor and Ulyſſes, the two great Counſellors; Aga⯑memnon, Diomed, and Eurypylus, the braveſt Warriors; all retreated: So that now in this Neceſſity of the Greeks, there was occaſion for the Poet to open a new Scene of Action, or elſe the Trojans had been victorious, and the Grecians driven from the Shores of Troy. To ſhew the Diſtreſs of the Greeks at this Period, from which the Poem takes a new Turn, 'twill be convenient to caſt a View on the Poſture of their Affairs: All human Aid is cut off by the Wounds of their Heroes, and all Aſſiſtance from the Gods forbid by Ju⯑piter: Whereas the Trojans ſee their General at their Head, and Jupiter himſelf fights on their ſide. Upon this Hinge turns the whole Poem; the Diſtreſs of the Greeks occaſions firſt the Aſſiſtance of Patroclus, and then the Death of that Hero draws on the Return of Achilles. It is with great Art that the Poet conducts all theſe Incidents: He lets Achilles have the Pleaſure of ſeeing that the Greeks were no longer able to carry on the War without his Aſſiſtance: and up⯑on this depends the great Cataſtrophe of the Poem. Eu⯑ſtathius.

XLII.

‘VERSE 731. That Hour Achilles, &c.]’ Tho' the Reſent⯑ment of Achilles would not permit him to be an Actor in [213] the Battel, yet his Love of War inclines him to be a Specta⯑tor: And as the Poet did not intend to draw the Character of a perfect Man in Achilles, he makes him delighted with the Deſtruction of the Greeks, becauſe it conſpired with his Revenge: That Reſentment which is the Subject of the Po⯑em, ſtill prevails over all his other Paſſions, even the Love of his Country; for tho' he begins now to pity his Coun⯑trymen, yet his Anger ſtifles thoſe tender Emotions, and he ſeems pleas'd with their Diſtreſs, becauſe he judges it will contribute to his Glory. Euſtathius.

XLIII.

‘VERSE 735. His Friend Machaon, &c.]’ It may be ask'd why Machaon is the only Perſon whom Achilles pities? Eu⯑ſtathius anſwers, that it was either becauſe he was his Coun⯑tryman, a Theſſalian; or becauſe Aeſculapius, the Father of Machaon, preſided over Phyſick, the Profeſſion of his Pre⯑ceptor Chiron. But perhaps it may be a better Reaſon to ſay that a Phyſician is a publick Good, and was valued by the whole Army; and it is not improbable but he might have cured Achilles of a Wound during the Courſe of the Trojan Wars.

XLIV.

‘VERSE 747. Now at my Knees the Greeks ſhall pour their Moan.]’ The Poet by putting theſe Words into the Mouth of Achilles, leaves room for a ſecond Embaſſy, and (ſince Achilles himſelf mentions it) one may think it would not have been unſucceſsful: But the Poet, by a more happy Management, makes his Friend Patroclus the Advocate of the Greeks, and by that means his Return becomes his own Choice. This Con⯑duct admirably maintains the Character of Achilles, who does not aſſiſt the Greeks thro' his Kindneſs to them, but from a De⯑ſire of Revenge upon the Trojans: His preſent Anger for the Death of his Friend, blots out the former one for the Injury of Agamemnon; and as he ſeparated from the Army in a Rage, ſo he joins it again in the like Diſpoſition. Eu⯑ſtathius.

XLV.

‘VERSE 764. And took their Seats beneath the ſhady Tent.]’ The Poet here ſteals away the Reader from the Battel, and relieves him by the Deſcription of Neſtor's Entertainment. I hope to be pardon'd for having more than once repeated this Obſervation, which extends to ſeveral Paſſages of Homer. Without this Piece of Conduct, the Frequency and Length of his Battels might fatigue the Reader, who could not ſo long be delighted with continued Scenes of Blood.

XLVI.

‘VERSE 774. A Goblet ſacred to the Pylian Kings.]’ There are ſome who can find out a Myſtery in the plaineſt things; they can ſee what the Author never meant, and explain him into the greateſt Obſcurities. Euſtathius here gives us a very extraordinary Inſtance of this Nature: The Bowl by an Al⯑legory figures the World; the ſpherical Form of it repreſents its Roundneſs; the Greek word which ſignifies the Doves be⯑ing ſpell'd almoſt like the Pleiades, is ſaid to mean that Con⯑ſtellation; and becauſe the Poet tells us the Bowl was ſtudded with Gold, thoſe Studs muſt needs imply the Stars.

XLVII.

‘VERSE 779. Yet heav'd with eaſe by him.]’ There has e⯑ver been a great Diſpute about this Paſſage; nor is it appa⯑rent for what Reaſon the Poet ſhould tell us that Neſtor even in his old Age could more eaſily lift this Bowl than any other Man. This has drawn a great deal of Raillery upon the old Man, as if he had learnt to lift it by frequent Uſe, an Inſi⯑nuation that Neſtor was no Enemy to Wine. Others with more Juſtice to his Character have put another Conſtruction upon the Words, which ſolves the Improbability very natu⯑rally. According to this Opinion the word which is uſually ſuppoſed to ſignify another Man, is render'd another old Man, [215] meaning Machaon, whoſe Wound made him incapable to lift it. This would have taken away the Difficulty without any Violence to the Conſtruction. But Euſtathius tells us, the Propriety of Speech would require the word to be, not [...] but [...], when ſpoken but of two. But why then may it not ſignify any other old Men?

XLVIII.

‘VERSE 782. Pours a large Potion.]’ The Potion which Hecamede here prepares for Machaon, has been thought a very extraordinary one in the Caſe of a wounded Perſon, and by ſome Criticks held in the ſame Degree of Repute with the Balſam of Fierabras in Don Quizot. But it is rightly obſerved by the Commentators, that Machaon was not ſo dangerouſly hurt, as to be obliged to a different Re⯑gimen from what he might uſe at another time. Homer had juſt told us that he ſtay'd on the Sea-ſide to refreſh him⯑ſelf, and he now enters into a long Converſation with Neſtor; neither of which would have been done by a Man in any great Pain or Danger: His Loſs of Blood and Spirits might make him not ſo much in fear of a Feaver, as in want of a Cordial; and accordingly this Potion is rather alimentary than medicinal. If it had been directly improper in this Caſe, I cannot help fancying that Homer would not have fail'd to tell us of Machaon's rejecting it. Yet after all, ſome Anſwer may be made even to the grand Objection, that Wine was too inflammatory for a wounded Man. Hippocrates allows Wine in acute Caſes, and even without Water in Caſes of In⯑digeſtion. He ſays indeed in his Book of ancient Medicine, that the Ancients were ignorant both of the good and bad Qualities of Wine: and yet the Potion here preſcrib'd will not be allow'd by Phyſicians to be an Inſtance that they were ſo; for Wine might be proper for Machaon not only as a Cordial, but as an Opiate. Aſclepiades, a Phyſician who flouriſh'd at Rome in the Time of Pompey, preſcribed Wine in Feavers, and even in Phrenzies to cauſe Sleep. Caelius Au⯑relianus, lib. 4. c. 14.

XLIX.

‘VERSE 801. Can then the Sons of Greece, &c.]’ It is cu⯑ſtomary with thoſe who tranſlate or comment on an Author, to uſe him as they do their Miſtreſs; they can ſee no Faults, or rather convert his very Faults into Beauties; but I cannot be ſo partial to Homer, as to imagine that this Speech of Neſtor's is not greatly blameable for being too long: He crouds Incident upon Incident, and when he ſpeaks of him⯑ſelf, he expatiates upon his own great Actions, very natu⯑rally indeed to old Age, but unſeaſonably in the preſent Jun⯑cture. When he comes to ſpeak of his killing the Son of Augeas, he is ſo pleas'd with himſelf, that he forgets the Diſtreſs of the Army, and cannot leave his favourite Subject till he has given us the Pedigree of his Relations, his Wife's Name, her Excellence, the Command he bore, and the Fury with which he aſſaulted him. Theſe and many other Circumſtances, as they have no viſible Alluſion to the Deſign of the Speech, ſeem to be unfortunately introduc'd. In ſhort, I think they are not ſo valuable upon any other Account, as becauſe they preſerve a Piece of ancient Hiſtory, which had otherwiſe been loſt.

What tends yet farther to make this Story ſeem abſurd, is what Patroclus ſaid at the beginning of the Speech, that he had not leiſure even to ſit down; ſo that Neſtor detains him in the Tent ſtanding, during the whole Narration.

They that are of the contrary Opinion obſerve, that there is a great deal of Art in ſome Branches of the Diſcourſe; that when Neſtor tells Patroclus how he had himſelf diſobey'd his Father's Commands for the ſake of his Country, he ſays it to make Achilles reflect that he diſobeys his Father by the contrary Behaviour: That what he did himſelf was to retaliate a ſmall Injury, but Achilles by fighting may ſave the Grecian Army. He mentions the Wound of Agamemnon at the very beginning, with an Intent to give Achilles a little Re⯑venge, and that he may know how much his greateſt Enemy has ſuffer'd by his Abſence. There are many other Argu⯑ments brought in the Defence of particular Parts; and it [217] may not be from the Purpoſe to obſerve, that Neſtor might deſignedly protract the Speech, that Patroclus might himſelf behold the Diſtreſs of the Army: Thus every Moment he detain'd him, enforced his Arguments, by the growing Miſ⯑fortunes of the Greeks. Whether this was the Intention or not, it muſt be allowed that the Stay of Patroclus was very happy for the Greeks; for by this means he met Eurypylus wounded, who confirm'd him into a Certainty that their Af⯑fairs were deſperate, without Achilles's Aid.

As for Neſtor's ſecond Story, it is much eaſier to be de⯑fended; it tends directly to the Matter in hand, and is told in ſuch a manner as to affect both Patroclus and Achilles; the Circumſtances are well adapted to the Perſon to whom they are ſpoken, and by repeating their Father's Inſtructi⯑ons, he as it were brings them in, ſeconding his Admo⯑nitions.

L.

‘VERSE 819. The Bulls of Elis in glad Triumph led.]’ Elis is the whole Southern Part of Peloponneſus, between Achaia and Meſſenia; it was originally divided into ſeveral Diſtricts or Principalities, afterwards it was reduc'd to two; the one of the Elians, who were the ſame with the Epeians, the other of Neſtor. This Remark is neceſſary for the underſtanding what follows. In Homer's Time the City Elis was not built. Dacier.

LI.

‘VERSE 839. At the publick Courſe Detain'd his Chariot.]’ 'Tis ſaid that theſe were particular Games, which Augeas had eſtabliſh'd in his own State; and that the Olympic Games cannot be here underſtood, becauſe Hercules did not inſtitute them till he had kill'd this King, and deliver'd his Kingdom to Phyleus, whom his Father Augeas had baniſh'd. The Pri⯑zes of theſe Games of Augeas were Prizes of Wealth, as gol⯑den Tripods, &c. whereas the Prizes of the Olympic Games were only plain Chaplets of Leaves or Branches: Beſides, 'tis probable Homer knew nothing of theſe Chaplets given at [218] the Games, nor of the triumphal Crowns, nor of the Gar⯑lands wore at Feaſts; if he had, he would ſome where or other have mentioned them. Euſtathius.

LII.

‘VERSE 845. The Sons of Actor.]’ Theſe are the ſame whom Homer calls the two Molions, namely, Eurytus and Cteatus. Thryoëſſa in the Lines following is the ſame Town which he calls Thryon in the Catalogue. The River Minyas is the ſame with Anygrus, about half way between Pylos and Thryoëſſa, call'd Minyas from the Minyans who liv'd on the Banks of it. It appears from what the Poet ſays of the Time of their March, that it is half a Day's March between Pylos and Thryoëſſa. Euſtathius. Strabo, lib. 8.

LIII.

There is a Reſemblance between this Paſſage and one in the ſacred Scripture, where all the Congregation bleſſed the Lord God of their Fathers, and bowed down their Heads, and wor⯑ſhipped the Lord, and the King. 1 Chron. 29. 20.

LIV.

‘VERSE 916. Peleus ſaid only this,—"My Son, be brave.]’ The Conciſeneſs of this Advice is very beautiful; Achilles be⯑ing haſty, active, and young, might not have burthen'd his Memory with a long Diſcourſe: Therefore Peleus comprehends all his Inſtructions in one Sentence. But Menoetius ſpeaks more largely to Patroclus, he being more advanc'd in Years, and mature in Judgment; and we ſee by the manner of the Expreſſion, that he was ſent with Achilles, not only as a Com⯑panion but as a Monitor, of which Neſtor puts him in mind, to ſhew that it is rather his Duty to give good Advice to Achilles, than to follow his Caprice, and eſpouſe his Reſent⯑ment. Euſtathius.

LV.

‘VERSE 923. Ah try the utmoſt, &c.]’ It may not be un⯑grateful to the Reader to ſee at one view the Aim and Deſign of Neſtor's Speech. By putting Patroclus in mind of his Fa⯑ther's Injunctions, he provokes him to obey him by a like Zeal for his Country: By the mention of the Sacri⯑fice, he reprimands him for a Breach of thoſe Engagements to which the Gods were Witneſſes: By ſaying that the very Arms of Achilles would reſtore the Fortunes of Greece, he makes a high Complement to that Hero, and offers a pow⯑erful Inſinuation to Patroclus at the ſame time, by giving him to underſtand, that he may perſonate Achilles. Euſtathius.

LVI.

‘VERSE 928. If ought from Heav'n with-hold his ſaving Arm.]’ Neſtor ſays this upon account of what Achilles himſelf ſpoke in the ninth Book; and it is very much to the Purpoſe, for nothing could ſooner move Achilles than to make him think it was the general Report in the Army, that he ſhut himſelf up in his Tent for no other reaſon, but to eſcape Death, with which his Mother had threaten'd him in diſco⯑vering to him the Decrees of the Deſtinies. Dacier.

LVII.

‘VERSE 969. Of two fam'd Surgeons.]’ Tho' Podalirius is mention'd firſt for the ſake of the Verſe, both here and in the Catalogue, Machaon ſeems to be the Perſon of the greateſt Character upon many Accounts: Beſides, it is to him that Homer attributes the Cure of Philoctetes, who was lame by having let an Arrow dipt in the Gall of the Hydra of Lerna fall upon his Foot; a plain Mark that Machaon was an a⯑bler Phyſician than Chiron the Centaure, who could not cure himſelf of ſuch a Wound. Podalirius had a Son named Hypo⯑lochus, from whom the famous Hippocrates was deſcended.

LVIII.

‘VERSE 977. But this Diſtreſs this Inſtant claims Relief.]’ Euſtathius remarks, that Homer draws a great Advantage for the Conduct of his Poem from this Incident of the Stay of Patroclus; for while he is employ'd in the friendly Task of taking Care of Eurypylus, he becomes an Eye-witneſs of the Attack upon the Entrenchments, and finds the Neceſſity of uſing his utmoſt Efforts to move Achilles.

I.

IT may be proper here to take a general View of the Con⯑duct of the Iliad: The whole Deſign turns upon the Wrath of Achilles: that Wrath is not to be appeas'd but by the Calamities of the Greeks, who are taught by their frequent Defeats the Importance of this Hero: For in Epic, as in Tragic Poetry, there ought to be ſome evident and neceſſary Incident at the winding up of the Cataſtrophe, and that ſhould be founded upon ſome viſible Diſtreſs. This Conduct has an admirable Effect, not only as it gives an Air of Probability to the Relation, by allowing Leiſure to the Wrath of Achilles to cool and die away by degrees, (who is every where deſcrib'd as a Perſon of a ſtubborn Reſentment, and conſequently ought not to be eaſily reconcil'd) but alſo as it highly contributes to the Honour of Achilles, which was to be fully ſatisfy'd, before he could relent.

II.

‘VERSE 9. Without the Gods how ſhort a Period, &c.]’ Ho⯑mer here teaches a Truth conformable to ſacred Scripture, [254] and almoſt in the very Words of the Pſalmiſt; Unleſs the Lord build the Houſe, they labour in vain that build it.

III.

‘VERSE 15. Then Neptune and Apollo, &c.]’ This whole Epiſode of the Deſtruction of the Wall is ſpoken as a kind of Prophecy, where Homer in a poetical Enthuſiaſm re⯑lates what was to happen in future Ages. It has been con⯑jectur'd from hence that our Author flouriſh'd not long after the Trojan War; for had he lived at a greater Diſtance, there had been no occaſion to have Recourſe to ſuch extraor⯑dinary means to deſtroy a Wall, which would have been loſt and worn away by Time alone. Homer (ſays Ariſtotle) fore⯑ſaw the Queſtion might be ask'd, how it came to paſs that no Ruins remain'd of ſo great a Work? and therefore con⯑trived to give his Fiction the neareſt Reſemblance to Truth. Inundations and Earthquakes are ſufficient to aboliſh the ſtrongeſt Works of Man, ſo as not to leave the leaſt Re⯑mains where they ſtood. But we are told this in a manner wonderfully noble and poetical: We ſee Apollo turning the Courſe of the Rivers againſt the Wall, Jupiter opening the Cataracts of Heaven, and Neptune rending the Foundations with his Trident: That is, the Sun exhales the Vapours, which deſcend in Rain from the Air or Aether, this Rain cauſes an Inundation, and that Inundation overturns the Wall. Thus the Poetry of Homer, like Magick, firſt raiſes a ſtupendous Object, and then immediately cauſes it to vaniſh.

What farther ſtrengthens the Opinion, that Homer was particularly careful to avoid the Objection which thoſe of his own Age might raiſe againſt the Probability of this Fiction, is, that the Verſes which contain this Account of the De⯑ſtruction of the Wall ſeem to be added and interpolated af⯑ter the firſt writing of the Iliad, by Homer himſelf. I believe the Reader will incline to my Opinion, if he conſiders the manner in which they are introduced, both here, and in the ſeventh Book, where firſt this Wall is mention'd. There, deſcribing how it was made, he ends with this Line,

After which is inſerted the Debate of the Gods concerning the Method of its Deſtruction, at the Concluſion whereof immediately follows a Verſe that ſeems exactly to connect with the former,

In like manner in the preſent Book, after the fourth Verſe,

That which is now the thirty ſixth, ſeems originally to have follow'd.

And all the Lines between (which break the Courſe of the Narration, and are introduced in a manner not uſual in Ho⯑mer) ſeem to have been added for the Reaſon above-ſaid. I do not inſiſt much upon this Obſervation, but I doubt not ſeveral will agree to it upon a Review of the Paſſages.

IV.

‘VERSE 24. Nine continual Days.]’ Some of the Ancients thought it incredible that a Wall which was built in one Day by the Greeks, ſhould reſiſt the joint Efforts of three Deities nine Days: To ſolve this Difficulty, Crates the Malleſian was of Opinion, that it ſhould be writ, [...], one day. But there is no occaſion to have Recourſe to ſo forc'd a So⯑lution; it being ſufficient to obſerve, that nothing but ſuch an extraordinary Power could have ſo entirely ruin'd the Wall, that not the leaſt Remains of it ſhould appear; but ſuch a one (as we have before ſaid) Homer ſtood in need of. Eu⯑ſtathius.

V.

‘VERSE 99. The Forces part in five diſtinguiſh'd Bands.]’ The Trojan Army is divided into five Parts, perhaps becauſe there were five Gates in the Wall, ſo that an Attack might be made upon every Gate at the ſame Inſtant: By this means the Greeks would be obliged to diſunite, and form themſelves into as many Bodies, to guard five Places at the ſame time.

The Poet here breaks the Thread of his Narration, and ſtops to give us the Names of the Leaders of every Bat⯑talion: By this Conduct he prepares us for an Action en⯑tirely new, and different from any other in the Poem. Eu⯑ſtathius.