University of Virginia Library

As we are now come to the Episodical part of the Odyssey, it may be thought necessary to speak something of the nature of Episodes.

As the action of the Epic is always one, entire, and great Action; so the most trivial Episodes must be so interwoven with it, as to be necessary parts, or convenient, as Mr. Dryden observes, to carry on the main design; either so necessary, as without them the Poem must be imperfect, or so convenient, that no others can be imagin'd more suitable to the place in which they stand: There is nothing to be left void in a firm building, even the cavities ought not to be fill'd up with rubbish destructive to the strength of it, but with materials of the same kind, tho' of less pieces, and fitted to the main fabric.

Aristotle tells us, that what is comprehended in the first platform of the fable is proper, the rest is Episode: Let us examine the Odyssey by this rule: The groundwork of the Poem is, a Prince absent from his country several years, Neptune hinders his return, yet at last he breaks thro' all obstacles, and returns, where he finds great disorders, the Authors of which he punishes, and restores peace to his kingdoms. This is all that is essential to the model; this the Poet is not at liberty to change; this is so necessary, that any alteration destroys the design, spoils the fable, and makes another Poem of it. But Episodes are changeable; for instance, tho' it was necessary that Ulysses being absent should spend several years with foreign Princes, yet it was not necessary that one of these Princes should be Antiphates, another Alcinous, or that Circe or Calypso should be the persons who entertain'd him: It was in the Poet's choice to have chang'd these persons and states, without changing his design or fable. Thus tho' these adventures or Episodes become parts of the subject after they are chosen, yet they are not originally essential to the subject. But in what sense then are they necessary? The reply is, Since the absence of Ulysses was absolutely necessary, it follows that not being at home, he must be in some other country; and therefore tho' the Poet was at liberty to make use of none of these particular adventures, yet it was not in his choice to make use of none at all; if these had been omitted, he must have substituted others, or else he would have omitted part of the matter contain'd in his model, viz. the adventures of a person long absent from his country; and the Poem would have been defective. So that Episodes are not actions, but parts of an action. It is in Poetry, as Aristotle observes, as in Painting; a Painter puts many actions into one piece, but they all conspire to form one entire and perfect Action: A Poet likewise uses many Episodes, but all those Episodes taken separately finish nothing, they are but imperfect members, which all together make one and the same action, like the parts of a human body, they all conspire to constitute the whole man.

In a word, the Episodes of Homer are compleat Episodes; they are proper to the subject, because they are drawn from the ground of the fable; they are so join'd to the principal action, that one is the necessary consequence of the other, either truly or probably: and lastly, they are imperfect members which do not make a compleat and finish'd body; for an Episode that makes a compleat action, cannot be part of a principal action, as is essential to all Episodes.

An Episode may then be defin'd, “a necessary part of an action, extended by probable circumstances.” They are part of an action, for they are not added to the principal action, but only dilate and amplify that principal action: Thus the Poet to shew the sufferings of Ulysses brings in the several Episodes of Polyphemus, Scylla, the Sirens, &c. But why should the words “extended by probable circumstances” enter the definition? Because the Sufferings of Ulysses are propos'd in the model of the Fable in general only, but by relating the circumstances, the manner how he is discover'd, and this connects it with the principal action, and shews very evidently the necessary relation the Episode bears to the main design of the Odyssey. What I have said I hope plainly discovers the difference between the Episodic and Principal action, as well as the nature of Episodes. See Bossu more largely upon this subject.

This passage has given great joy to the Critics, as it has afforded them the ill natur'd pleasure of railing, and the satisfaction of believing they have found a fault in a good Writer. It is fitter, say they, for the mouth of Epicurus than for the sage Ulysses, to extol the pleasures of feasting and drinking in this manner: He whom the Poet proposes as the standard of human Wisdom, says Rapine, suffers himself to be made drunk by the Phæacians. But it may rather be imagin'd, that the Critic was not very sober when he made the reflection; for there is not the least appearance of a reason for that imputation. Plato indeed in his third book de Repub. writes, that what Ulysses here speaks is no very proper example of temperance: but every body knows that Plato, with respect to Homer, wrote with great partiality. Athenæus in his twelfth book gives us the following interpretation. Ulysses accommodates his discourse to the present occasion; he in appearance approves of the voluptuous lives of the Phæacians, and having heard Alcinous before say, that feasting and singing, &c. was their supreme delight; he by a seasonable flattery seems to comply with their inclinations: it being the most proper method to attain his desires of being convey'd to his own country. He compares Ulysses to the Polypus, which is fabled to assume the colour of every rock to which he approaches: Thus Sophocles,

That is “In your accesses to mankind observe the Polypus, and adapt your self to the humour of the person to whom you apply. Eustathius observes that this passage has been condemn'd, but he defends it after the very same way with Athæneus.

It is not impossible but that there may be some compliance with the nature and manners of the Phæacians, especially because Ulysses is always describ'd as an artful man, not without some mixture of dissimulation: But it is no difficult matter to take the passage literally, and yet give it an irreproachable sense. Ulysses had gone thro' innumerable calamities, he had liv'd to see a great part of Europe and Asia laid desolate by a bloody war; and after so many troubles, he arrives among a nation that was unacquainted with all the miseries of war, where all the people were happy, and pass'd their lives in ease and pleasures: this calm life fills him with admiration, and he artfully praises what he found praise-worthy in it; namely, the entertainments and music, and passes over the gallantries of the people, as Dacier observes, without any mention. Maximus Tyrius fully vindicates Homer. It is my opinion, says that Author, that the Poet, by representing these guests in the midst of their entertainment, delighted with the song and music, intended to recommend a more noble pleasure than eating or drinking, such a pleasure as a wise man may imitate, by approving the better part, and rejecting the worse, and chusing to please the ear rather than the belly. 12 Dissert.

If we understand the passage otherwise, the meaning may be this. I am persuaded, says Ulysses, that the most agreeable end which a King can propose, is to see a whole nation in universal joy, when music and feastings are in every house, when plenty is on every table, and wines to entertain every guest; This to me appears a state of the greatest felicity.

In this sense Ulysses pays Alcinous a very agreeable compliment; as it is certainly the most glorious aim of a King to make his subjects happy, and diffuse an universal joy thro' this dominions: He must be a rigid Censor indeed who blames such pleasures as these, which have nothing contrary in them to Virtue and strict Morality; especially as they here bear a beautiful opposition to all the horrors which Ulysses had seen in the wars of Troy, and shew Phæacia as happy as Troy was miserable. I will only add, that this agrees with the oriental way of speaking; and in the Poetical parts of the Scriptures, the voice of melody, feasting, and dancing, are used to express the happiness of a nation.

The Poet begins with declaring the name of Ulysses: the Phæacians had already been acquainted with it by the song of Demodocus, and therefore it could not fail of raising the utmost attention and curiosity (as Eustathius observes) of the whole assembly, to hear the story of so great an Heroe. Perhaps it may be thought that Ulysses is ostentatious, and speaks of himself too favourably; but the necessity of it will appear, if we consider that Ulysses had nothing but his personal qualifications to engage the Phæacians in his favour. It was therefore requisite to make those qualifications known, and this was not possible to be done but by his own relation, he being a stranger among strangers. Besides, he speaks before a vain-glorious people, who thought even boasting no fault. It may be question'd whether Virgil be so happy in these respects, when he puts almost the same words into the mouth of Æneas.

For his boast contributes nothing to the re-establishment of his affairs, for he speaks to the Goddess Venus. Yet Scaliger infinitely prefers Virgil before Homer, tho' there be no other difference in the words, than raptos qui ex hoste penates, instead of

He questions whether Subtilties, or δολοι, ever rais'd any person's glory to the Heavens; whereas that is the reward of piety. But the word is to be understood to imply Wisdom, and all the stratagems of war, &c. according to the first verse of the Odyssey,

He is not less severe upon the verses immediately preceding,

which lines are undoubtedly very beautiful, and admirably express the number of the sufferings of Ulysses; the multitude of them is so great, and they almost confound him; and he seems at a loss where to begin, how to proceed, or where to end; and they agree very well with the proposition in the opening of the Odyssey, which was to relate the sufferings of a brave man. The verses which Scaliger quotes are

Omnia sanè non sine suâ divinitate, and he concludes, that Virgil has not so much imitated Homer, as taught us how Homer ought to have wrote.

Eustathius gives various interpretations of this position of Ithaca; some understand it to signify that it lies low; others explain it to signify that it is of a low position, but high with respect to the neighbouring Islands; others take πανυπερταιτη (excellentissima) in another sense to imply the excellence of the country, which tho' it lies low, is productive of brave inhabitants, for Homer immediately adds αγαθη κουροτροφος. Strabo gives a different exposition; Ithaca is χθαμαλη, as it lies near to the Continent, and πανυπερτατη, as it is the utmost of all the islands towards the North, προς αρκτον, for thus προς ζοφον is to be understood. So that Ithaca, adds he, is not of a low situation, but as it lies oppos'd to the Continent, nor the most lofty (υψηλοτατη) but the most extream of the northern Islands; for so πανυπερτατη signifies. Dacier differs from Strabo in the explication of προς ηω τ' ηελιον τε, which he believes to mean the South; she applies the words to the East, or South-east, and appeals to the maps which so describe it. It is the most northern of the Islands, and joyns to the Continent of Epirus; it has Dulichium on the East, and on the South Samos and Zacynthus.

Eustathius observes, that Ulysses repeats his refusal of the Goddess Calypso and Circe in the same words, to shew Alcinous, by a secret denial, that he could not be induc'd to stay from his country, or marry his daughter: He calls Circe Δολοεσσα, because she is skill'd in magical Incantations: He describes Ithaca with all its inconveniencies, to convince Alcinous of his veracity, and that he will not deceive him in other circumstances, when he gives so disadvantageous a character of a country for which he expresses so great a fondness; and lastly, in relating the death of his friends, he seems to be guilty of a tautology, in θανατον τε μορον τε. But Aulus Gellius gives us the reason of it, Atrocitatem rei bis idem dicendo auxit, inculcavitque, non igitur illa ejusdem significationis repetitio, ignava &c frigida videri debet.

Here is the natural and true beginning of the Odyssey, which comprehends all the sufferings of Ulysses, and these sufferings take their date immediately after his leaving the shores of Troy; from that moment he endeavours to return to his own country, and all the difficulties he meets with in returning, enter into the subject of the Poem. But it may then be ask'd, if the Odyssey does not take up the space of ten years, since Ulysses wastes so many in his return; and is not this contrary to the nature of Epic Poetry, which is agreed must not at the longest exceed the duration of one year, or rather Campaign? The answer is, the Poet lets all the time pass which exceeds the bounds of Epic action, before he opens the Poem; thus Ulysses spends some time before he arrives at the Island of Circe, with her he continues one year, and seven with Calypso; he begins artificially at the conclusion of the action, and finds an opportunity to repeat the most considerable and necessary incidents which preceded the opening of the Odyssey; by this method he reduces the duration of it into less compass than the space of two months. This conduct is absolutely necessary, for from the time that the Poet introduces his Heroe upon the stage, he ought to continue his action to the very end of it, that he may never afterwards appear idle or out of motion: This is verified in Ulysses; from the moment he leaves the Island Ogygia to the death of the Suitors, he is never out of view, never idle; he is always either in action, or preparing for it, 'till he is re-establish'd in his dominions. If the Poet had follow'd the natural order of the action, he, like Lucan, would not have wrote an Epic Poem, but an History in verse.

The Poet assigns no reason why Ulysses destroys this City of the Ciconians, but we may learn from the Iliad, that they were auxiliaries of Troy, Book the second.

And therefore Ulysses assaults them as enemies.

This is one of the passages which fell under the censure of Zoilus; it is very improbable, says that Critic that each vessel shoud lose six men exactly, this seems a too equal distribution to be true, considering the chance of battle. But it has been answer'd, that Ulysses had twelve vessels, and that in this engagement he lost seventy two soldiers; so that the meaning is, that taking the total of his loss, and dividing it equally thro' the whole fleet, he found it amounted exactly to six men in every vessel. This will appear to be a true solution, if we remember that there was a necessity to supply the loss of any one ship out of the others that had suffer'd less; so that tho' one vessel lost more than the rest, yet being recruited equally from the rest of the fleet, there would be exactly six men wanting in every vessel. Eustathius.

This passage preserves a piece of Antiquity: It was the custom of the Grecians, when their friends dy'd upon foreign shores, to use this ceremony of recalling their souls, tho' they obtain'd not their bodies; believing by this method that they transported them to their own country: Pindar mentions the same practice,

That is, “Phrixus commands thee to call his soul into his own country:” Thus the Athenians, when they lost any men at sea, went to the shores, and calling thrice on their names, rais'd a Cenotaph or empty monument to their memories; by performing which solemnity, they invited the shades of the departed to return, and perform'd all rites as if the bodies of the dead had really been buried by them in their sepulchres.

The Romans as well as the Greeks follow'd the same custom: thus Virgil,

The occasion of this practice arose from the opinion, that the souls of the departed were not admitted into the state of the happy, without the performance of the sepulchral solemnities.

This passage has given occasion for much controversy; for since the Lotophagi in reality are distant from the Malean Cape twenty two thousand five hundred stades, Ulysses must sail above two thousand every day, if in nine days he sail'd to the Lotophagi. This objection would be unanswerable, if we place that nation in the Atlantic Ocean, but Dacier observes from Strabo, that Polybius examin'd this point, and thus give us the result of it. This great Historian maintains, that Homer has not placed the Lotophagi in the Atlantic Ocean, as he does the Islands of Circe and Calypso, because it was improbable that in the compass of ten days the most favourable winds could have carry'd Ulysses from the Malean Cape into that Ocean; it therefore follows, that the Poet has given us the true situation of this nation, conformably to Geography and placed it as it really lies in the Mediterranean; now in ten days a good wind will carry a vessel from Malea into the Mediterranean, as Homer relates.

This is an instance that Homer sometimes follows truth without fiction, at other times disguises it. But I confess I think Homer's Poetry would have been as beautiful if he had describ'd all his Islands in their true positions: His inconstancy in this point, may seem to introduce confusion and ambiguity, when the truth would have been more clear, and as beautiful in his Poetry.

Nothing can better shew the great deference which former ages pay'd Homer, than these defences of the learned Ancients; they continually ascribe his deviations from truth, (as in the instance before us) to design, not to ignorance; to his art as a Poet, and not to want of skill as a Geographer. In a writer of less fame, such relations might be thought errors, but in Homer they are either understood to be no errors, or if errors, they are vindicated by the greatest names of Antiquity.

Eustathius adds, that the Ancients disagree about this Island: some place it about Cyrene, from Maurusia of the African Moors: It is also named Meninx, and lies upon the African coast, near the lesser Syrte. It is about three hundred and fifty stades in length, and somewhat less in breadth: It is also nam'd Lotophagitis from Lotos.

The reason why the Poet mentions the Herald in particular, is because his office was sacred; and by the common law of nations his person inviolable: Ulysses therefore joyns an Herald in this commission, for the greater security of those whom he sends to search the country. Eustathius.

Eustathius assures us, that there are various kinds of it. It has been a question whether it is a herb, a root, or a tree: He is of opinion, that Homer speaks of it as an herb; for he calls it ανθινον ειδας, and that the word ερεπτεσθαι is in its proper sense apply'd to the grazing of beasts, and therefore he judges it not to be a tree, or root. He adds, there is an Ægyptian Lotos, which, as Herodotus affirms, grows in great abundance along the Nile in the time of its inundations; it resembles (says that Historian in his Enterpe) a Lily, the Ægyptians dry it in the sun, then take the pulp out of it, which grows like the head of a poppy, and bake it as bread: this kind of it agrees likewise with the Ανθινον ειδας of Homer. Athenæus writes of the Lybian Lotos in the fourteenth book of his Deipnosophist; he qoutes the words of Polybius in the twelfth book of his History, now not extant; that Historian speaks of it as an eye-witness, having examin'd the nature of it. “The Lotos is a tree of no great height, rough and thorny: it bears a green leaf, somewhat thicker and broader than that of the bramble or briar; its fruit at first is like the ripe berries of the Myrtle, both in size and colour, but when it ripens it turns to purple; it is then about the bigness of an olive, it is round, and contains a very small kernel; when it is ripe they gather it, and bruising it among bread-corn, they put it up into a vessel, and keep it as food for their slaves; they dress it after the same manner for their other domestics, but first take out the kernel from it: It has the taste of a fig, or dates, but is of a far better smell: They likewise make a wine of it, by steeping and bruising it in water; it has a very agreeable taste, like wine temper'd with honey. They drink it without mixing it with water, but it will not keep above ten days, they therefore make it only in small quantities for immediate use.” Perhaps it was this last kind of Lotos, which the companions of Ulysses tasted; and if it was thus prepar'd, it gives a reason why they were overcome with it; for being a wine, it had the power of intoxication.

It must be confess'd, that the effects of this Lotos are extraordinary, and seem fabulous: How then shall we reconcile the relation to credibility? The foundation of it might perhaps be no more than this; The companions of Ulysses might be willing to settle among these Lotophagi, being won by the pleasure of the place, and tired with a life of danger and the perils of seas. Or perhaps it is only an Allegory, to teach us that those who indulge themselves in pleasures, are with difficulty withdrawn from them, and want an Ulysses to lead them by a kind of violence into the paths of glory.

Homer here confines himself to the true Geography of Sicily: for, in reality, a ship may easily sail in one day from the land of the Lotophagi to Sicily: These Cyclops inhabited the western part of that Island, about Drepane and Lilybæum. Bochart shews us, that they derive their name from the place of their habitation; for the Phæacians call them Chek-lub, by contraction for Chek-lelub; that is, the gulph of Lilybæum, or the men who dwell about the Lilybæan gulph. The Greeks (who understood not the Phæacian language) form'd the word Cyclop, from Chek-lub, from the affinity of sound; which word in the Greek language, signifying a circular eye, might give occasion to fable that they had but one large round eye in the middle of their foreheads.

Eustathius tells us, that the eye of Cyclops is an allegory, to represent that in anger, or any other violent passion, men see but one single object, as that passion directs, or see but with one eye: εις εν τι, και μονον εφορα: and that passion transforms us into a kind of savages, and makes us brutal and sanguinary, like this Polypheme; and he that by reason extinguishes such a passion, may like Ulysses be said to put out that eye that made him see but one single object.

I have already given another reason of this fiction; namely their wearing a headpiece, or martial Vizor that had but one sight thro' it. The vulgar form their judgments from appearances; and a mariner, who pass'd these coasts at a distance, observing the resemblance of a broad eye in the forehead of one of these Cyclops, might relate it accordingly, and impose it as a truth upon the credulity of the ignorant: it is notorious that things equally monstrous have found belief in all ages.

But it may be ask'd if there were any such persons who bore the name of Cyclops? No less an Historian than Thucydides informs us, that Sicily was at first possess'd and inhabited by Giants, by the Læstrigons and Cyclops, a barbarous and inhuman people: But he adds, that these savages dwelt only in one part of that Island.

Cedrenus gives us an exact description of the Cyclops: Εκειθεν οδυσσευς εμπιπτει κυκλωπι εν Σικελια ουκ ενι οφθαλμω, &c. “Ulysses fell among the Cyclops in Sicily, a people not one-ey'd, according to the Mythologists, but men like other men, only of a more gigantic stature, and of a barbarous and savage temper.” From this description, we may see what Homer writes as a Poet, and what as an Historian; he paints these people in general agreeably to their persons, only disguises some features, to give an ornament to his relation, and to introduce the Marvellous, which demands a place chiefly in Epic Poetry.

What Homer speaks of the fertility of Sicily, is agreeable to History: It was call'd anciently Romani Imperii Horreum. Pliny, lib. 10. cap. 10. writes, that the Leontine plains bear for every grain of corn, an hundred. Diodorus Siculus relates in his History what Homer speaks in Poetry, that the fields of Leontium yield wheat without the culture of the husbandman: he was an eye-witness, being a native of the Island. From hence in general it may be observ'd, that where-ever we can trace Homer, we find, if not historic truth, yet the resemblance of it; that is, as plain truth as can be related without converting his Poem into an History.

Plato (observes Spondanus) in his third book of laws, treats of Government as practis'd in the first ages of the world; and refers to this passage of Homer; “Mankind was originally independant, every Master of a family was a kind of a King of his family, and reign'd over his wife and children like these Cyclopeans,” according to the expression of Homer,

Aristotle likewise complains, that even in his times, in many places, men lived without laws, according to their own fancies, ζη εκαστος ως βουλεται, κυκλωπικως θεμιστενων, παιδων, η αλοχου, referring likewise to this passage of Homer.

Dacier adds from Plato, that after the Deluge, three manners of life succeeded among mankind; the first was rude and savage; men were afraid of a second flood, and therefore inhabited the summits of mountains, without any dependance upon one another, and each was absolute in his own family: The second was less brutal; as the fear of the Deluge wore away by degrees, they descended toward the bottom of mountains, and began to have some intercourse: The third was more polish'd; when a full security from the apprehensions of a flood was establish'd by time, they then began to inhabit the plains, and a more general commerce by degrees prevailing, they enter'd into societies, and establish'd laws for the general good of the whole community. These Cyclopeans maintain'd the first state of life in the days of Ulysses; they had no intercourse with other societies, by reason of their barbarities, and consequently their manners were not at all polish'd by the general laws of humanity. This account agrees excellently with the holy Scriptures, and perhaps Plato borrow'd it from the writings of Moses; after the Deluge men retreated to mountains for fear of a second flood; their chief riches, like these Cyclopeans, consisted in flocks and herds; and every master of a family ruled his house without any controul or subordination.

This is said, to give an air of probability to the revenge which Ulysses takes upon this giant, and indeed to the whole story. He describes his solitary life, to shew that he was utterly destitute of assistance; and it is for the same reason, continues Eustathius, that the Poet relates that he left his fleet under a desart neighbouring Island, namely to make it probable, that the Cyclops could not seize it, or pursue Ulysses, having no shipping.

This little Isle is now call'd Ægusa, which signifies the Isle of goats. Cluverius describes it after the manner of Homer, Prata mollia, & irrigua, solum fertile, portum commodum, fontes limpidos. It is not certain whether the Poet gives any name to it; perhaps it had not received any in these ages, it being without inhabitants; tho' some take λαχεια for a proper name, as is observ'd by Eustathius.

It is exactly thus in the original, ver. 124. μηκαδας, balantes; which Pollux, lib. 5. observes not to be the proper term for the voice of goats, which is θριμαγμας.

This circumstance is inserted with great judgment, Ulysses otherwise might have landed in Sicily, and fall'n into the hands of the Cyclopeans, and consequently been lost inevitably: He therefore piously ascribes his safety, be being driven upon this desolate Island, to the guidance of the Gods; he uses it as a retreat, leaves his navy there, and passes over into Sicily in one single vessel, undiscover'd by these gigantic savages; this reconciles the relation to probability, and renders his escape practicable. Eustathius.

This passage is not without obscurity, and it is not easy to understand what is meant by the daughters of Jupiter. Eustathius tells us, the Poet speaks allegorically, and that he means to specify the plants and herbs of the field. Jupiter denotes the air, not only in Homer, but in the Latin Poets. Thus Virgil,

and consequently the herbs and plants, being nourish'd by the mild air and fruitful rains, may be said to be the daughters of Jupiter, or offspring of the skies; and these goats and beasts of the field, being fed by these plants and herbs, may be said to be awaken'd by the daughters of Jupiter, that is, they awake to feed upon the herbage early in the morning. Κουραι Διος, αλληγορικως αι των φυτων αυξητικαι δυναμεις, ας ο ζευς ποιει. Thus Homer makes Deities of the vegetative faculties and virtues of the field. I fear such boldnesses would not be allow'd in modern Poetry.

It must be confess'd that this interpretation is very refin'd: But I am sure it will be a more natural explication to take these for the real mountain Nymphs (Oreades) as they are in many places of the Odyssey; the very expression is found in the sixth book,

and there signifies the Nymphs attending upon Diana in her sports: Immediately after, Ulysses, being awaken'd by a sudden noise, mistakes Nausicaa and her damsels for Nymphs of the mountains or floods; and this conjecture will not be without probability, if we remember that these Nymphs were huntresses, as is evident from their relation to Diana. Why then may not the other expression be meant of the Nymphs that are fabled to inhabit the mountains?

The Reader may be pleas'd to observe, that the Poet has here given the reins to his fancy, and run out into a luxuriant description of Ægusa and Sicily: he refreshes the mind of the Reader with a pleasing and beautiful scene, before he enters upon a story of so much horror, as this of the Cyclops.

A very sufficient reason may be assign'd, why Ulysses here goes in person to search this land: He dares not, as Eustathius remarks, trust his companions; their disobedience among the Ciconians, and their unworthy conduct among the Lotophagi, have convinc'd him that no confidence is to be repos'd in them: This seems probable, and upon this probability Homer proceeds to bring about the punishment of Polypheme, which the wisdom of Ulysses effects, and it is an action of importance, and consequently ought to be perform'd by the Heroe of the Poem.

Goropius Becanus, an Antwerpian, has wrote a large discourse to prove, that there never were any such men as Giants; contrary to the testimony both of prophane and sacred History: Thus Moses speaks of the Rephaims of Asteroth, the Zamzummims of Hane, the Enims of Moab, and Anakims of Hebron. See Deut. ii. ver. 20. “That also was call'd a land of Giants, it was a great people, and tall as the Zamzummims.” Thus Goliath must be allow'd to be a Giant, for he was six cubits and a span, that is, nine feet and a span in height; his coat of mail weigh'd five thousand shekels of brass, about one hundred and fifty pounds; (but I confess others understand the lesser Shekel) the head of his spear alone weigh'd six hundred shekels of iron, that is about eighteen or nineteen pounds. We find the like relations in prophane History: Plutarch in his life of Theseus says, that age was productive of men of prodigious stature, Giants. Thus Diodorus Siculus; Ægyptii scribunt, Isidis ætate, fuisse vasto corpore homines, quos Græci dixere Gigantes. Herodotus affirms that the body of Orestes was dug up, and appear'd to be seven cubits long; but Aulus Gellius believes this to be an error. Josephus writes, l. 18. cap. 6. that Vitellius sent a Jew named Eleazar, seven cubits in height, as a present from Artabanus King of the Parthians, to Tiberius Cæsar; this man was ten feet and a half high. Pliny, 7. 16. speaks of a man that was nine feet nine inches high; and in another place, 6. 30. Sybortas, gentem Æthiopum Nomadum, octona cubita longitudine excedere.

Thus it is evident, that there have been men of very extraordinary stature in former ages. Tho' perhaps such instances were not frequent in any age or any nation. So that Homer only amplifies, not invents; and as there was really a people call'd Cyclopeans, so they might be men great stature, or Giants.

It may seem strange that in all ancient stories the first planters of most nations are recorded to be Giants; I scarce can persuade my self but such accounts are generally fabulous; and hope to be pardon'd for a conjecture which may give a seeming reason how such stories came to prevail. The Greeks were a people of very great antiquity; they made many expeditions, as appears from Jason, &c. and sent out frequent Colonies: Now the head of every Colony was call'd Αναξ, and these adventurers being persons of great figure in story, were recorded as men of war, of might and renown, thro' the old world: It is therefore not impossible but the Hebrews might form their word Anac, from the Greek αναξ, and use it to denote persons of uncommon might and abilities. These they call'd Anac, and sons of Anac; and afterwards in a less proper sense used it to signify men of uncommon stature, or Giants. So that in this sense, all nations may be said to be originally peopled by a son of Anac, or a Giant. But this is submitted as a conjecture to the Reader's judgment.

Such digressions as these are very frequent in Homer, but I am far from thinking them always beauties: 'Tis true, they give variety to Poetry; but whether that be an equivalent for calling off the attention of the Reader from the more important action, and diverting it with small incidents, is what I much question. It is not indeed impossible but this Maron might have been the friend of Homer, and this praise of him will then be a monument of his grateful disposition; and in this view, a beauty. It must be confess'd that Homer makes use of this wine to a very good effect, viz. to bring about the destruction of Polypheme, and his own deliverance; and therefore it was necessary to set it off very particularly, but this might have been done in fewer lines. As it now stands it is a little Episode; our expectations are rais'd to learn the event of so uncommon an adventure, when all of a sudden Homer breaks the story, and gives us a History of Maron. But I distrust my judgment much rather than Homer's.

There is no wine of so strong a body as to bear such a disproportionable quantity; but Homer amplifies the strength of it to prepare the Reader for its surprizing effects immediately upon Polypheme.

This whole passage must be consider'd as told by a person long after the adventure was past, otherwise how should Ulysses know that this cave was the habitation of a savage monster before he had seen him? and when he tells us that himself and twelve companions went to search, what people were inhabitants of this Island? Eustathius and Dacier seem both to have overlook'd this observation; for in a following note she condemns Ulysses for not flying from the Island, as he was advis'd by his companions. But if, on the other hand, we suppose that Ulysses was under apprehensions from the savageness of the place, of finding a savage race of people, it will be natural enough that his mind should forebode as much; and it appears from other passages, that this sort of instinctive presage was a favourite opinion of Homer's.

This speech is very well adapted to make an impression upon Polypheme. Ulysses applies to move either his fears or his compassion; he tells him he is an unfortunate person, and comes as a suppliant; and if this prevails nothing, he adds, he is a subject of the great Agamemnon, who had lately destroy'd a mighty kingdom: Which is spoken to make him afraid to offer violence to the subject of a King who had power to revenge any injuries offer'd his people. To intimidate him further, he concludes with the mention of the Gods, and in particular of Jupiter, as avengers of any breach of the laws of hospitality: These are arguments well chosen to move any person, but an inhuman Polypheme. Eustathius.

There is a great beauty in the versification in the original.

Dionysius Halicarn. takes notice of it, in his Dissertation upon placing words: When the companions of Ulysses, says that Author, are dash'd against the rock, to express the horror of the action, Homer dwells upon the most inharmonious harsh letters and syllables: he no where uses any softness, or any run of verses to please the ear. Scaliger injudiciously condemns this description; “Homer, says he, makes use of the most offensive and loathsome expressions, more fit for a butcher's shambles than the majesty of Heroic Poetry.” Macrobius, lib. 5. cap. 13. of his Saturnalia, commends these lines of Homer, and even prefers them before the same description in Virgil; his words are, Narrationem facti nudam Mare posuit, Homerus παθος miscuit, & dolore narrandi invidiam crudelitatis æquavit. And indeed he must be a strange Critic that expects soft verses upon a horrible occasion, whereas the verses ought, if possible, to represent the thought they are intended to convey; and every person's ear will inform him that Homer has not in this passage executed this rule unsuccessfully.

Ulysses bids his friends to cast lots; this is done to shew that he would not voluntarily expose them to so imminent danger. If he had made the choice himself, they whom he had chosen might have thought he had given them up to destruction, and they whom he had rejected might have judg'd it a stain upon them as a want of merit, and so have complain'd of injustice; but by this method he avoids these inconveniencies.

Ulysses ascribes it to the influence of the Gods, that Polypheme drives the whole flock into his den, and does not separate the females from the males as he had before done; for by this accident Ulysses makes his escape, as appears from the following part of the story. Homer here uses the οισσαμενος, to shew the suspicion which Polypheme might entertain that Ulysses had other companions abroad who might plunder his flocks; and this gives another reason why he drove them all into his cave, namely for the greater security.

I will not trouble the Reader with a long account of ουτις to be found in Eustathius, who seems delighted with this piece of pleasantry; nor with what Dacier observes, who declares she approves of it extremely, and calls it a very happy imagination. If it were modesty in me to dissent from Homer, and two Commentators, I would own my opinion of it, and acknowledge the whole to be nothing but a collusion of words, and fitter to have place in a Farce or Comedy, than in Epic Poetry. Lucian has thus used it, and apply'd it to raise laughter in one of his facetious dialogues. The whole wit or jest lies in the ambiguity of ουτις, which Ulysses imposes upon Polypheme as his own name, which in reality signifies No Man. I doubt not but Homer was well pleased with it, for afterwards he plays upon the word, and calls Ulysses ουτιδανος ουτις. But the faults of Homer have a kind of veneration, perhaps, like old age, from their antiquity.

Euripides has translated this whole passage in his Tragedy, call'd the Cyclops. The Chorus begins thus, Why dost thou thus cry out, Cyclops? Cyc. I am undone. Cho. You seem to be in a woful condition. Cyc. I am utterly miserable. Cho. You have been drunk and fall'n into the embers. Cyc. Noman has undone me. Cho. Well then No man has injur'd you. Cyc. Noman has blinded me. Cho. Then you are not blind.

This appears to me more fit for the two Sosia's in Plautus, than for Tragic or Epic Poetry; and I fancy an Author who should introduce such a sport of words upon the stage, even in the Comedy of our days, would meet with small applause.

This and the following comparison are drawn from low life, but ennobled with a dignity of expression. Instead of ελοντες, Aristarchus reads εχοντες, as Eustathius informs us. The similitudes are natural and lively, we are made spectators of what they represent. Sophocles has imitated this, in the Tragedy where O Edipus tears out his own eyes; and Euripides has transferr'd this whole adventure into his Cyclops with very little alteration, and in particular the former comparison. But to instance in all that Euripides has imitated, would be to transcribe a great part of that Tragedy. In short, this Episode in general is very noble; but if the Interlude about Outis be at all allowable in so grave and majestic a Poem, it is only allowable because it is here related before a light and injudicious assembly, I mean the Phæacians, to whom any thing more great or serious would have been less pleasing; so that the Poet writes to his audience. I wonder this has never been offer'd in defence of this low entertainment.

This conduct of Polypheme may seem very absurd, and it looks to be improbable that he should not call the other Giants to assist him, in the detection of the persons who had taken his sight from him; especially when it was now day-light, and they at hand. Eustathius was aware of the objection, and imputes it to his folly and dullness. Tully, 5. Tuscul. gives the same character of Polypheme; and because it vindicates Homer for introducing a speech of Polypheme to his Ram, I will beg leave to transcribe it. Tiresiam, quem sapientem fingunt poetæ, nunquam inducunt deplorantem Cæcitatem suam; at verò Polyphemum Homerus, cùm immanem ferumque finxisset, cum ariete etiam colloquentem facit ejusque laudare fortunas, quod quà vellet, ingredi posset, & quæ vellet attingere: Rectè hic equidem; nihilo enim erat ipse Cyclops quam aries ille prudentior. This is a full defence of Homer; but Tully has mistaken the words of Polypheme to the Ram, for there is no resemblance to ejus laudare fortunas, quod quà velles ingredi posset, &c. I suppose Tully quoted by memory.

This passage has been misunderstood, to imply that Ulysses took more care of himself than of his companions, in chusing the largest ram for his own convenience; an imputation unworthy of the character of an Heroe. But there is no ground for it, he takes more care of his friends than of his own person, for he allots them three sheep, and lets them escape before him. Besides, this conduct was necessary; for all his friends were bound, and, by chusing this ram, he keeps himself at liberty to unbind the rest after their escape. Neither was there any other method practicable; for, he being the last, there was no person to bind him.

The care Ulysses takes of his companions agrees with the character of Horace.

But it may seem improbable that a Ram should be able to carry so great a burthen as Ulysses; the generation of sheep, as well as men, may appear to have decreas'd since the days of Ulysses. Homer himself seems to have guarded against this objection, he describes these sheep as ευτρεφεες, καλοι, μεγαλοι; the Ram is spoken of as μακρα βιβας, (an expression apply'd to Ajax, as Eustathius observes, in the Iliad.) History informs us of sheep of a very large size in other countries, and a Poet is at liberty to chuse the largest, if by that method he gives his story a greater appearance of probability.

This particularity may seem of no importance, and consequently unnecessary: but it is in Poetry as in Painting; they both with very good effect use circumstances that are not absolutely necessary to the subject, but only appendages and embellishments. This particular has that effect, it represents Nature, and therefore gives an air of truth and probability to the story. Dacier.

The Ancients, remarks Euthathius, placed an Obelisk and Asterism before this verse; the former, to note that they thought it misplaced; the latter, to shew that they look'd upon it as a beauty. Apparently it is not agreeable to the description; for how is it possible that this huge rock falling before the vessel should endanger the rudder, which is in the stern? Can a ship sail with the stern foremost? Some ancient Criticks, to take away the contradiction, have asserted that Ulysses turn'd his ship to speak to Polypheme; but this is absurd, for why could not Ulysses speak from the stern as well as from the prow? It therefore seems that the verse ought to be entirely omitted, as undoubtedly it may without any chasm in the Author. We find it inserted a little lower, and there it corresponds with the description, and stands with propriety.

But if we suppose that the ship of Ulysses lay at such a distance from the cave of Polypheme, as to make it necessary to bring it nearer, to be heard distinctly; then indeed we may solve the difficulty, and let the verse stand: for if we suppose Ulysses approaching toward Polyheme, then the rock may be said to be thrown before the vessel, that is, beyond it, and endanger the rudder, and this bears some appearance of probability.

This passage brings to my memory a description of Polypheme in Apollonius, Argonaut. 1.

If Polypheme had really this quality of running upon the waves, he might have destroy'd Ulysses without throwing this mountain; but Apollonius is undoubtedly guilty of an absurdity, and one might rather believe that he would sink the earth at every step, than run upon the waters with such lightness as not to wet his feet. Virgil has more judiciously apply'd those lines to Camilla in his Æneis.

The Poet expresses the swiftness of Camilla in the nimble flow of the verse, which consists almost entirely of dactyles, and runs off with the utmost rapidity, like the last of those quoted from Apollonius.

This incident sufficiently shews the use of that dissimulation which enters into the character of Ulysses: If he had discover'd his name, the Cyclops had destroy'd him as his most dangerous enemy. Plutarch in his discourse upon Garrulity, commends the fidelity of the companions of Ulysses, who when they were dragg'd by this Giant and dash'd against the rock, confess'd not a word concerning their Lord, and scorn'd to purchase their lives at the expence of their honesty. Ulysses himself, adds he, was the most eloquent and most silent of men; he knew that a word spoken never wrought so much good, as a word conceal'd; Men teach us to speak, but the Gods teach us silence; for silence is the first thing that is taught us at our initiation into sacred mysteries; and we find these companions had profited under so great a Master in silence as Ulysses.

Ovid relates this prophecy in the story of Polypheme and Galatea.

This is spoken in compliance with the character of a Giant; the Phæacians wonder'd at the manly stature of Ulysses, Polypheme speaks of him as a dwarf; his rage undoubtedly made him treat him with so much contempt. Nothing in nature can be better imagin'd than this story of the Cyclops, if we consider the assembly before which it was spoken, I mean the Phæacians, who had been driven from their habitation by the Cyclopeans, as appears from the sixth of the Odyssey, and compell'd to make a new settlement in their present country: Ulysses gratifies them by shewing what revenge he took upon one of their ancient enemies, and they could not decently refuse assistance to a person, who had punish'd those who had insulted their forefathers.

This is a master-piece of art in Ulysses; he shews Neptune to be his enemy, which might deter the Phæacians from assisting in his transportation, yet brings this very circumstance as an argument to induce them to it. O Neptune, says the Cyclop, destroy Ulysses, or if he be fated to return, may it be in a vessel not of his own! Here he plainly tells the Phæacians that the prayer of Cyclops was almost accomplish'd, for his own ships were destroy'd by Neptune, and now he was ready to sail in a foreign vessel; by which the whole prayer would be compleated. By this he persuades them, that they were the people ordain'd by the Fates to land him in his own country.

This perhaps might be a present of honour and distinction: But I should rather take it with Eustathius to be the Ram which brought Ulysses out of the den of Polypheme. That Heroe immediately offers it in sacrifice to Jupiter, in gratitude for his deliverance; an instance of piety to be imitated in more enlighten'd ages.

The book concludes with a testimony of this Heroe's humanity; in the midst of the joy for his own safety, his generous heart finds room for a tender sentiment for the loss of his companions; both his joys and his sorrows are commendable and virtuous.

Virgil has borrow'd this Episode of Polyphemus, and inserted it into the third of the Æneis. I will not presume to decide which Author has the greatest success, they both have their peculiar excellencies. Rapine confesses this Episode to be equal to any parts of the Iliad, that it is an original, and that Homer introduced that monstrous character to shew the Marvelous, and paint it in a new set of colours. Demetrius Phalereus calls it a piece of Sublime strangely horrible; and Longinus, even while he is condemning the Odyssey, allows this adventure of Polypheme to be very great and beautiful; (for so Monsieur Boileau understands Longinus, tho' Monsieur Dacier differs from his judgment.) In Homer we find a greater variety of natural incidents than in Virgil, but in Virgil a greater pomp of verse. Homer is not uniform in his description, but sometimes stoops perhaps below the dignity of Epic Poetry; Virgil walks along with an even, grave, and majestic pace: They both raise our admiration, mix'd with delight and terror.