University of Virginia Library

We shall proceed in the same method thro' the course of these Annotations upon the Odyssey, as in those upon the Iliad; considering Homer chiefly as a Poet, endeavouring to make his beauties understood, and not to praise without a reason given. It is equally an extreme, on the one hand to think Homer has no human defects; and on the other to dwell so much upon those defects, as to depreciate his beauties. The greater part of Criticks form a general character, from the observation of particular errors, taken in their own oblique or imperfect views; which is as unjust, as to make a judgment of the beauty of a man's body from the shadow it happens to cast, in such or such a position. To convince the Reader of this intended impartiality, we readily allow the Odyssey to be inferior to the Iliad in many respects. It has not that sublimity of spirit, or that enthusiasm of poetry; but then it must be allow'd, if it be less noble, it is more instructive: The other abounds with more Heroism, this with more Morality. The Iliad gives us a draught of Gods and Heroes, of discord, of contentions, and scenes of slaughter; the Odyssey sets before us a scene more amiable, the landschapes of nature, the pleasures of private life, the duties of every station, the hospitality of ancient times; a less busy, but more agreeable portrait. The Iliad concludes with the ruin, the Odyssey with the happiness of a nation. Horace was of the same opinion, as is evident from the epistle to Lollius.

Seditione, dolis, scelere, libidine, & ira,
Iliacos intra muros peccatur & extra.
Rursus, quid virtus & quid sapientia possit,
Utile proposuit nobis exemplar Ulyssem.

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

Non fumum ex fulgore, sed ex fumo dare lucem
Cogitat, ut speciosa dehinc miracula promat.

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

Dic mihi, Musa, virum, captæ post tempora Trojæ,
Qui mores hominum multorum vidit; & urbes.

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

Qui domitor Trojæ, multorum providus urbes
Et mores hominum inspexit, latumque per æquor
Dum sibi, dum sociis, reditum parat, aspera multa
Pertulit ------
Epist. ad Loll.

I must also refute a criticism of Rapin, who will have it that the word πολυτροπος includes a character of craft and low cunning, unworthy of a brave spirit: But Eustathius admirably vindicates the Poet in this respect, he shews us that τροπος no where in Homer signifies (ηθη) or Morals; and that it implies a man who could accommodate himself to every condition of life; one who in the worst estate had still a reserve to free himself from it; it therefore, says he, signifies a man that thro' experience has learn'd wisdom. I have likewise the authority of Horace for this sense, in the above-cited passage,

Qui domitor Trojæ, multorum providus urbes.

I take providus in this place to signify not only a man who noted the manners of various nations with care, but also one who in calamity could foresee methods to extricate himself from it. And surely nothing can be more unjust than what Rapin objects against Ulysses, in employing his wisdom only in his own preservation, while all his companions were lost: Homer himself sufficiently refutes this objection, and directly tells us, that he employed his wisdom in the care of their safety, but that they thro' their folly defeated his wisdom. The words of Homer, says Eustathius, shew that a wise man neglects not his friends in adversity. But, says Rapin, what could oblige Homer to begin with so dishonourable an action, and place the greatest weakness of his Hero in the very frontispiece of his Poem? and invoke his Muse to sing the man who with difficulty saved himself, and suffer'd his companions to be destroy'd? There had been some weight in this objection, if Ulysses had saved his own, with the loss of their lives; but I cannot see any dishonour, in his preserving himself by wisdom, when they destroy'd themselves by folly: It was chiefly by storms that they perish'd; it can be no imputation to his character, not to be able to restrain the effects of a tempest: he did all that a wise man cou'd do, he gave them such admonitions upon every emergency, that if they had pursued them, they had been preserved as well as Ulysses.

Bossu's's observation in relation to this Epithet πολυτροπος, given to Ulysses, is worth transcribing. The Fable of the Odyssey (says he) is wholly for the conduct and policy of a State: Therefore the quality it requires is Wisdom, but this virtue is of too large an extent for the simplicity which a just and precise character requires; it is therefore requisite it should be limited. The great art of Kings is the mystery of Dissimulation. 'Tis well known, that Lewis the eleventh, for the instruction of his Son, reduc'd all the Latin language to these words only, viz. Qui nescit dissimulare nescit regnare. 'Twas likewise by this practice that Saul began his reign, when he was first elected and as yet full of the spirit of God. The first thing we read of him in holy Writ is,

that he made as if he did not hear the words which seditious people spoke against him.

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

Without mentioning any thing of Circe, who detain'd him with her a whole year, and who was famous for the transformations she made of all sorts of persons; the reader finds him at first with Calypso the daughter of wise Atlas, who bore up the vast pillars that reach'd from Earth to Heaven, and whose knowledge penetrated into the depths of the unfathomable Ocean: that is to say, who was ignorant of nothing in Heaven, Earth, or Sea. And as the first product and principal part of so high, so solid, and so profound a knowledge was to know how to conceal one's self; this wise man call'd his daughter by a name that signified a

secret. The Poet makes his Hero, whom he deab for a Politician, to stay seven whole years with this Nymph. She taught him so well, that afterwards he lost no opportunity of putting her lessons in practice: for he does nothing without a disguise. At his parting from Ogygia he is cast upon the Isle of Phæacia: as kind as his reception was, yet he stays 'till the night before he went off e're he wou'd discover himself. From thence he goes to Ithaca: the first adventure that happen'd to him there was with Minerva, the most prudent among the Deities, as Ulysses was the most prudent among men. She says so expressly in that very passage. Nor did they fail to disguise themselves. Minerva takes upon her the shape of a shepherd, and Ulysses tells her he was oblig'd to fly from Crete, because he had murder'd the son of King Idomeneus. The Goddess discovers her self first, and commends him particularly, because these artifices were so easy and natural to him, that they seem'd to be born with him. Afterwards the Hero under the form of a beggar deceives first of all Eumeus, then his son, and last of all his wife, and every body else, till he found an opportunity of punishing his Enemies, to whom he discover'd not himself 'till he kill'd them, namely on the last night. After his discovering himself in the Palace, he goes the next day to deceive his father, appearing at first under a borrow'd name; before he wou'd give him joy of his return. Thus he takes upon him all manner of shapes, and dissembles to the very last. But the Poet joins to this character a valour and a constancy which render him invincible in the most daring and desperate adventures.

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

By this single trait, Homer marks an essential difference between the Iliad and the Odyssey: namely, that in the former Poem the people perish'd by the folly of their Kings:

In this, the people perish by their own folly, while their Prince omits nothing to procure their felicity. A plain reason why the Odyssey is more calculated for the People, than the Iliad.

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

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

Semper ad eventum festinat; & in medias res,
Non secus as notas, auditorem rapit.

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

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

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

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

Strabo in his first book delivers his opinion, that “the ancient Grecians included all those people who lived upon the southern Ocean, from east to west, in the general name of Æthiopians, and that it was not confined to those only who lay fouth of Ægypt.” Ptolomy says, that “under the Zodiac, from east to west, inhabit the Æthiopians, black of colour.” And elsewhere the same Geographer divides Æthiopia into the eastern and the western. These eastern and western Æthiopians were separated by the Arabian or Ægyptian Gulf; which tho' never mention'd by Homer, as Aristarchus remark'd, yet it is not probable (says Strabo) that he should be ignorant of it, it being but a thousand stadia distant from the Mediterranean, when he knew the Ægyptian Thebes, which was four times as far off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------ Fruges consumere nati,
Sponsi Penelopes, Nebulones ------

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

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

'Tis said, this Game was invented by Palamedes during the siege of Troy.

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

There is nothing that has drawn more ridicule upon Homer, than the frequent descriptions of his entertainments: It has been judged, that he was more than ordinarily delighted with them, since he omits no opportunity to describe them; nay, his temperance has not been unsuspected, according to that verse of Horace,

Laudibus arguitur vini vinosus Homerus.

But we must not condemn, without stronger evidence: a man may commend a sumptuous entertainment, or good wines, without being either a drunkard or a glutton. But since there are so many entertainments describ'd in the Poem, it may not be improper to give this some explanation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the country of the Brutians, in the lower part of Italy, was a town call'd Temese. That Homer here meant this city, and not one of the same name in Cyprus, appears not only because this was famous for works of brass, but because (as Strabo observes) Ithaca lay in the direct way from Taphos to this city of the Brutii; whereas it was considerably out of the way to pass by Ithaca to that of Cyprus. The same Author says, that the rooms for preparing of brass were remaining in his time, tho' then out of use.

And Statius, Sylv.

Bochart is of opinion, that the name of Temese was given to this town by the Phœnicians, from the brass it produced, Temes in their language signifying Fusion of Metals: an Art to which the Phœnicians much apply'd themselves.

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

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

—Tacitum sylvas inter-reptare salubreis.

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

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

Η μεν, γαρ αυτης οιδεν οντα οδ' οιεται.

that is, The mother knows the child, the father only believes it.

Thus also Menander,

Αυτον γαρ ουδεις οιδε του ποτ' εγενετο
Αλλ' υπονοουμεν παντες η πιστευσομεν.

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

Aristotle in his Rhetoric is also of this opinion;

Αριστα περι των τεκνων κρινουσιν αι γυναικες.

What I have here said, is translated literally from Eustathius, and if it edifies the Reader I am content. But the meaning of the passage is this, Mentes asks Telemachus if he be the son of Ulysses; he replies, “So my mother assures me; but nothing sure so wretched as I am could proceed from that great man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sense that πατροφονευς here bears is remarkable, it signifies not only a person who kills his own father, but who kills the father of any other person.

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

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

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

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

These verses are taken literally from the 6th book of the Iliad, except that μυθος is inserted instead of πολεμος; Eustathius explains the passage thus: Women are not forbid entirely to speak, for women are talking animals, λαλητον ξωον, they have the faculty of talking, and indeed are rational creatures; but they must not give too much liberty to that unruly member, in the company of men. Sophocles advises well,

Γυναι γυναξι κοσμον η σιγη φερει.

O woman, silence is the ornament of thy sex. Madam Dacier, tho' she plunders almost every thing, has spared this observation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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