University of Virginia Library

Aristotle in his Poetics reports, that certain ancient Critics reproached Homer for an indecency in making Telemachus take his abode with Menelaus, and not with his own grandfather Icarius: this Monsieur Dacier sufficiently answers, by shewing that Icarius had settled himself in Acarnaia, and not in Lacedæmon.

Athenæns has been very severe upon this passage, as Eustathius observes, and Dacier from Eustathius.

Aristarchus, says Athenæus, misguides us, the words τον δ' ευρον δαινυντα, led him into an error; whereas the marriage is compleated, the wedded couple gone away from Menelaus, and he and Helen are alone at Lacedæmon. The five verses, continues he, (the fifteenth to the twentieth inclusively) are taken from the eighteenth book of the Iliads, and inserted very improperly in this place by Aristarchus. Athenæus gives several reasons for his opinion, as that music and dancing were very contrary to the severe manners of the Lacedæmonians; besides the dance was a Cretan dance, how then could it be practis'd among the Spartans? The Poet mentions neither the name of the Bard, nor one word of the subject of the songs: neither can the words μολπης εξαρχοντες, be apply'd at all to the Dancers, but to the Musicians; and lastly, it is not to be imagin'd that Telemachus and Pisisiratus should be so unpolite, as not to be at all affected with the music, had there been any, and yet break out into such wonder at the sight of the beauty of the Palace of Menelaus. Aristarchus, adds he, thought the description of the wedding of the son and daughter of a King was too meanly and concisely describ'd, and therefore made this addition.

But it is easy to refute Athenæus, and vindicate Aristarchus. Athenæus understood πεμπε and ηγετο in the wrong sense, they are of the imperfect, he was sending, or about to send, and not had sent, &c. If the marriage had been absolutely finish'd, why should Minerva absent her self from Menelaus, when the celebration of the nuptials is the only reason of the absence of that Goddess? and as for music and dancing being contrary to the severe manners of the Lacedæmonians, this is all conjecture: Menelaus lived more than three hundred years before Lycurgus; and because such diversions were forbid in Sparta in the days of Lycurgus, must it follow that they were not used in those of Menelaus? And should it be granted that music and dancing were not used in his times, might he not relax a little from the severity of his times, upon such an occasion of joy as the marriage of a son and daughter? I am sure these diversions are not more contrary to the severity of the Spartans, than the magnificence of the Palace of Menelaus was to their simplicity. “But he does not name the Bard, or the subject of his songs:” But is this a reason why the verses are spurious? we should rather admire the judgment of the Poet, who having so fair an opportunity to describe these nuptials, yet rejects the temptation, dismisses the whole in a few lines, and follows where his subject leads him. The objection about the dance being Cretan is not more valid: Menelaus (as we may learn from the preceding book) had been in Crete, and might bring it thence to Lacedæmon. And as for the Critism upon εξαρχοντες it is but a fallacy; Casaubon has shewn beyond contradiction, that εξαρχειν is apply'd indifferently to all those who give example to others; and consequently may be apply'd to Dancers as well as Musicians. It may be further added, that although it should be allow'd that the word εξαρχειν is only properly apply'd to music, yet in this place the word would not be improperly apply'd to dancers; for the dancers, without usurping upon the province of the singer, might μολπης εξαρχειν, or chuse those songs, to which they desired to dance; as is the usage at this day.

Diodorus is of opinion, that the whole twelve lines after the second to the fifteenth are not genuine; but what has been said of Athenæus, may be apply'd to Diodorus.

This is the first appearance of Menelaus; and surely nothing can more reconcile him to the favour of the spectators, than those amiable colours in which the Poet paints him. There is an overflow of humanity and gratitude in his expressions, like that of Dido in Virgil,

They contain a fine piece of morality, and teach that those men are more tender-hearted and humane who have felt the reverse of fortune, than those who have only liv'd in a condition of prosperity.

This may be thought a circumstance of no importance, and very trivial in Telemachus; but it shews his address and decency: He whispers, to avoid the appearance of a flatterer, or to conceal his own inexperience, in shewing too much surprize at the magnificence of the Palace of Menelaus. Eustathius.

The ancients, says Eustathius, observe the prudence of Menelaus in his reply to Telemachus; and the prudence of Telemachus in his behaviour to Menelaus: Menelaus denies not his riches and magnificence, but to take off the envy which they might attract, he throws the calamities he has undergone into the contrary scale, and balances his felicity with his misfortunes: And Telemachus coming into the Palace at the time of an entertainment, chuses to satisfy his curiosity rather than his appetite. Plutarch, I confess, condemns Telemachus of inexperience; who when he saw the Palace of Nestor furnish'd only with things useful to life, as beds, tables, &c. is seiz'd with no admiration; but the superfluities of Menelaus, his ivory, amber and gold, &c. carry him into transports: whereas a Socrates or a Diogenes would have exclaim'd. What heaps of vanities have I beheld! 'Tis true, such a judgment might become Philosophers; but who, as Dacier observes, can think the character of a Socrates or a Diogenes suitable to young Telemachus? What is decent in a Prince, and a young man, would ill become the gravity and wisdom of a Philosopher.

The words are in the original Αιγυπτιους επαληθεις, others read them Αιγυπτιους επ' αληθεις, from their veracity in oracles, for which they were very famous; and indeed the word επαληθεις is not necessary, it being used in the very same sentence, tho' it must be confess'd such repetitions are frequent in Homer. There is also a different reading of the word ερεμβους; some have it ερεμνους, or Blacks; others, Σιδονιους Αραβας τε; but the common reading is thought the best. The Erembri are the Arabian Troglodytes. Strabo informs us, that in former ages the bounds of the Æthiopians lay near to Thebes in Ægypt, so that Menelaus travelling to Thebes, might with ease visit the Æthiopians. Others have without any foundation imagin'd that he pass'd the streights of Gibraltar, and sail'd to the Indies. Sidon is the capital of the Phœnicians. Eustathius.

These sheep, as describ'd by Homer, may be thought the creation of the Poet, and not the production of nature: But Herodotus, says Eustathius, writes, that in Scythia the oxen have no horns thro' the extremity of the cold: He quotes this very verse, rightly intimating, adds Herodotus, that in hot regions the horns of cattle shoot very speedily. Aristotle directly asserts, that in Lybia the young ones of horned cattle have horns immediately after they are brought into the world. So that Aristotle and Herodotus vindicate Homer. The Poet adds, that the sheep breed three times in the year; these words may have a different interpretation, and imply that they breed in three seasons of the year, and not only in the spring, as in other countries; or that the sheep have at once three lambs; but the first is the better interpretation. Athenæus upon this passage writes, that there are things in other countries no less strange than what Homer relates of these sheep of Libya. Thus in Lusitania, a country of Spain, now Portugal, there is a wonderful fruitfulness in all cattle, by reason of the excellent temper of the air; the fruits there never rot, and the roses, violets and asparagus, never fail above three months in the year. Eust.

In the original Menelaus says, I have destroy'd a house, &c. There is an ambiguity in the expression, as Eustathius observes: for it may either signify the house of Priam, or his own in Argos; if it be understood of his own, then the meaning is, “I have indeed great wealth, but have purchas'd it with the loss of my people; I could be content with the third part of it, if I could restore those to life who have perish'd before Troy.” If it be understood of the kingdom of Priam, the regret he shews will still appear the greater. He is enumerating his domestic happiness, and his foreign conquest of Troy; but he throws the destruction of so many brave men who fell before it, in the contrary scale; and it so far outweighs both his wealth and his glory, that they both are joyless to him. Either of these interpretations shew an excellent temper of humanity in Menelaus, who thinks the effusion of blood too dear a price for glory. At the same time the Poet gives an admirable picture of human nature, which is restless in the pursuit of what it miscalls happiness, and when in possession of it, neglects it. But the disquiet of Menelaus arises not from inconstancy of temper, but wisdom; it shews that all happiness is unsatisfactory.

It is with admirable address that the Poet falls into his subject; it is art, but yet it seems to be nature: This conduct has a double effect, it takes away all suspicion of flattery, for Menelaus is ignorant that the person with whom he discourses is Telemachus, this gives him a manifest evidence of the love he bears to Ulysses; the young man could not but be pleased with the praise of his father, and with the sincerity of it. It is also observable, that Menelaus builds his friendship for Ulysses upon a noble foundation; I mean the sufferings which Ulysses underwent for his friend: Menelaus ascribes not their affection to any familiarity or intercourse of entertainments, but to a more sincere cause, to the hazards which brave men undertake for a friend. In short, the friendship of Menelaus and Ulysses is the friendship of Heroes. Eustathius.

Menelaus conjectur'd that the person he had entertain'd was the son of Ulysses, from the tears he shed at the name of his father, and from the resemblance there was between Ulysses and Telemachus; it might therefore have been expected that Menelaus should immediately have acknowledg'd Telemachus, and not delay'd a full discovery one moment, out of regard to his absent friend; but Menelaus defers it upon a twofold account, to give some time to Telemachus to indulge his sorrow for his father, and recover himself from it, and also to avoid the repetition of a discovery upon the appearance of Helen, who would be curious to know the condition of the strangers.

It may be necessary to say something concerning Helen, that fatal beauty that engag'd Greece and Asia in arms; she is drawn in the same colours in the Odyssey as in the Iliad; it is a vicious character, but the colours are so admirably soften'd by the art of the Poet, that we pardon her infidelity. Menelaus is an uncommon instance of conjugal affection, he forgives a wife who had been false to him, and receives her into a full degree of favour. But perhaps the Reader might have been shock'd at it, and prejudiced against Helen as a person that ought to be forgot, or have her name only mention'd to disgrace it: The Poet therefore, to reconcile her to his Reader, brings her in as a penitent, condemning her own infidelity in very strong expressions; she shews true modesty, when she calls herself impudent, and by this conduct we are inclined, like Menelaus, to forgive her.

It has been observ'd, that Helen has not the same attendants in the Odyssey as she had in the Iliad; they perhaps might be Trojans; and consequently be left in their own country; or rather, it was an act of prudence in Menelaus, not to suffer those servants about her who had been her attendants and confidents in her infidelity. Eust.

It may seem strange that Helen should at first view recollect the features of Ulysses in Telemachus; and that Menelaus, who was better acquainted with him, and his constant friend, should not make the same observation. But Athenæus, to reconcile this to probability, says, that women are curious and skilful observers of the likeness of children to parents, for one particular reason, that they may, upon finding any dissimilitude, have the pleasure of hinting at the unchastity of others.

The Poet puts these words in the mouth of Menelaus, to express the sincerity of his friendship to Ulysses; he intended him all advantage, and no detriment: we must therefore conclude, that Ulysses was still to retain his sovereignty over Ithaca, and only remove to Argos, to live with so sincere a friend as Menelaus. Eustathius.

It has been observ'd through the Iliad, and may be observ'd through the whole Odyssey, that it was not a disgrace to the greatest Heroes to shed tears; and indeed I cannot see why it should be an honour to any man, to be able to divest himself of human nature so far as to appear insensible upon the most affecting occasions. No man is born a Stoic; it is art, not nature; tears are only a shame, when the cause from whence they flow is mean or vicious. Here Menelaus laments a friend, Telemachus a father, Pisistratus a brother: but from what cause arise the tears of Helen? It is to be remember'd that Helen is drawn in the softest colours in the Odyssey; the character of the adultress is lost in that of the penitent; the name of Ulysses throws her into tears, because she is the occasion of all the sufferings of that brave man; the Poet makes her the first in sorrow, as she is the cause of all their tears.

It may be ask'd why sorrow for the dead should be more unseasonable in the evening than the morning? Eustathius answers, lest others should look upon our evening tears as the effect of wine, and not of love to the dead.

I fancy there may be a more rational account given of this expression; The time of feasting was ever look'd upon as a time of joy and thanksgiving to the Gods; it bore a religious veneration among the Ancients, and consequently to shed tears when they should express their gratitude to the Gods with joy, was esteem'd a prophanation.

The conjectures about this cordial of Helen have been almost infinite. Some take Nepenthes allegorically, to signify History, Music, or Philosophy. Plutarch in the first of the Symposiacs affirms it to be, discourse well suiting the present passions and conditions of the hearers. Macrobius is of the same opinion, Delinimentum illud quod Helena vino miscuit, non herba fuit, non ex Indiâ succus, sed narrandi opportunitas, quæ hospitem mœroris oblitum flexit ad gaudium. What gave a foundation to this fiction of Homer, as Dacier observes, might be this. Diodorus writes that in Ægypt, and chiefly at Heliopolis, the same with Thebes where Menelaus sojourn'd, as has been already observ'd, there liv'd women who boasted of certain potions, which not only made the unfortunate forget all their calamities, but drove away the most violent sallies of grief or anger. Eusebius directly affirms, that even in his time the women of Diospolis were able to calm the rage of grief or anger by certain potions. Now whether this be truth or fiction, it fully vindicates Homer, since a Poet may make use of a prevailing, tho' false, opinion.

Milton mentions this Nepenthes in his excellent Masque of Comus.

But that there may be something more than fiction in this is very probable, since the Ægyptians were so notoriously skill'd in physick; and particularly since this very Thon, or Thonis, or Thoon, is reported by the ancients to have been the inventor of physic among the Ægyptians. The description of this Nepenthes agrees admirably with what we know of the qualities and effects of Opium.

It is further said of Thon, that he was King of Canopus, and entertain'd Menelaus hospitably before he had seen Helen; but afterwards falling in love with her, and offering violence, he was slain by Menelaus. From his name the Ægyptians gave the name of Thoth to the first month of their year, and also to a city the name of Thonis. Ælian writes, that Menelaus, when he travell'd to the Æthiopians, committed Helen to the protection of Thonis; that she fell in love with him, that Polydamna growing jealous confin'd her to the Island Pharos, but gave her an herb to preserve her from the poison of serpents there frequent, which from Helen was call'd Helenium. Strabo writes, that at Canopus on the mouth of Nile there stands a city named Thonies, from King Thonis, who receiv'd Helen and Menelaus. Herodotus relates, that Thonis was Governour of Canopus, that he represented the injury which Paris had done to Menelaus, to Proteus who reign'd in Memphis.

This last remark from Herodotus is sufficient to shew, that Homer is not so fictitious as is generally imagined, that there really was a King named Proteus, that the Poet builds his fables upon truth, and that it was truth that originally determin'd Homer to introduce Proteus into his Poetry; but I intend to explain this more largely in the story of Proteus.

What is here related shews the necessity of the introduction of Helen, and the use the Poet makes of it: she is not brought in merely as a muta persona, to fill up the number of persons; but she relates several incidents, in which she her self was concern'd, and which she could only know; and consequently not only diversifies, but carries on the design of the story. Eustathius.

The Poet here shews his judgment in passing over many instances of the sufferings of Ulysses, and relating this piece of conduct, not mention'd by any other Author. The art of Ulysses in extricating himself from difficulties is laid down as the groundwork of the Poem, he is πολυτροπος, and this is an excellent example of it. This further shews the necessity of the appearance of Helen, no other person being acquainted with the story. If this stratagem be not a reality, yet it bears the resemblance of it; and Megabysus the Persian (as Eustathius observes) practis'd it, as we learn from history. We may reasonably conjecture that Ulysses was committed to Helen, in hopes that he would discover the affairs of the army more freely to her than any other person: for what could be more agreeable to a Greek, than to be committed to the care of a Greek, as Ulysses was to Helen? By the same conduct the Poet raises the character of Helen, by making her shew her repentance by an act of generosity to her countryman. The original says she gave an oath to Ulysses not to discover him before he was in safety in the Grecian army: Now this does not imply that she ever discover'd to the Trojans that Ulysses had enter'd Troy: the contrary opinion is most probable; for it cannot be imagin'd but all Troy must have been incens'd greatly against her, had they known that she had conceal'd one of their mortal enemies, and dismiss'd him in safety: It was sufficient for Ulysses to take her oath that she would not discover him, 'till he was in security: he left her future conduct to her own discretion. It is probable that she furnish'd Ulysses with a sword, for in his return he slew many Trojans: He came to Troy, observes Eustathius, in rags, and like a slave; and to have conceal'd a sword, would have endanger'd his life upon a discovery of it, and given strong suspicions of an impostor.

The word φρονις is here used in a large sense: it takes in all the observations Ulysses made during his continuance in Troy, it takes in the designs and counsels of the enemy, his measuring the gates, the height of the walls, the easiest plan for an assault or ambush, the taking away the Palladium, or whatever else a wise man may be suppos'd to observe, or act, in execution of such a stratagem. Eustathius.

The conclusion of this speech is very artful: Helen ascribes her seduction to Venus, and mentions nothing of Paris. Instead of naming Troy, she conceals it, and only says she was carry'd thither, leaving Troy to the imagination of Menelaus; she suffers not herself to mention names so odious now to herself, and ever to Menelaus, as Paris and Troy. She compliments Menelaus very handsomely, and says, that he wanted no accomplishment either in mind or body: It being the nature of man not to resent the injuries of a wife so much upon the account of her being corrupted, but of the preference she gives to another person; he looks upon such a preference as the most affecting part of the injury. Eustathius.

The judgment of the Poet in continuing the story concerning Ulysses is not observ'd by any Commentator. Ulysses is the chief Heroe of the Poem, every thing should have a reference to him, otherwise the narration stands still without any advance towards the conclusion of it. The Poet therefore to keep Ulysses in our minds, dwells upon his sufferings and adventures: he supplies his not appearing in the present scene of action, by setting his character before us, and continually forcing his prudence, patience, and valour upon our observation. He uses the same art and judgment with relation to Achilles in the Iliads: The Heroe of the Poem is absent from the chief scenes of action during much of the time which that Poem comprises, but he is continually brought into the mind of the Reader, by recounting his exploits and glory.

It is the observation of Eustathius, that these words are very artfully introduced to vindicate Helen; They imply that what she acted was by compulsion, and to evidence this more clearly, Deiphobus is given her for an attendant as a spy upon her actions, that she might not conceal any thing that should happen, but act her part well, by endeavouring to deceive the Greeks in favour of Troy. It is the Dæmon, not Helen, that is in fault; this, continues Eustathius, answers many objections that lye against Helen: for if she was a real penitent, as she her self affirms, how comes she to endeavour to deceive the Greeks, by the disguise of her voice, into more misery than had yet arisen from a ten years war? Or indeed is it credible that any person could modulate her voice so artfully as to resemble so many voices? And how could the Greeks enclosed in the wooden horse believe that their wives who were in Greece, could be arriv'd in so short a space as they had been conceal'd there, from the various regions of Greece, and meet together in Troy? Would the wives of these Heroes come into an enemy's country when the whole army, except these latent Heroes, were retir'd from it? this is ridiculous and impossible. I must confess there is great weight in these objections: But Eustathius answers all by the interposition of the Dæmon; and by an idle tradition that Helen had the name of Echo, from the faculty of mimicking sounds; and that this gift was bestow'd upon her by Venus when she married Menelaus, that she might be able to detect him, if he should prove false to her bed, by imitating the voice of the suspected person: (but Menelaus had more occasion for this faculty than Helen.) As for the excuse of the Dæmon, it equally excuses all crimes: For instance, was Helen false to Menelaus? The Dæmon occasion'd it: Does she act an imposture to destroy all her Grecian friends, and even Menelaus? The Dæmon compels her to it: The Dæmon compels her to go with Deiphobus, to surround the horse thrice, to sound the sides of it, to endeavour to surprize the latent Greeks by an imitation of the voices of their wives, and in short, to act like a person that was very sincere in mischief.

Dacier takes another course, and gives up Helen, but remarks the great address of Menelaus. Helen had, said she, long desired nothing so much as to return to Lacedæmon; and her heart had long been wholly turn'd to Menelaus: Menelaus is not at all convinc'd of this pretended sincerity; but it would have been too gross, after he had taken her again to his bed, to convict her of falshood: He therefore contents himself barely to reply, that some Dæmon, an enemy to the Greeks, had forc'd her to a conduct disagreeable to her sincerity. This (continues Dacier) is an artful, but severe Irony.

As for the objection concerning the impossibility of the Greeks believing their wives could be in Troy; she answers, that the Authors of this objection have not sufficiently-consider'd human nature. The voice of a belov'd person might of a sudden, and by surprize, draw from any person a word involuntary, before he has time to make reflection. This undoubtedly is true, where circumstances make an imposture probable; but here is an impossibility; it is utterly impossible to believe the wives of these Heroes could be in Troy. Besides, Menelaus himself tells us, that even he had fallen into the snare, but Ulysses prevented it; this adds to the incredibility of the story; for if this faculty of mimickry was given upon his marriage with Helen, it was nothing new to him, he must be suppos'd to be acquainted with it, and consequently be the less liable to surprize: Nay it is not impossible, but the experiment might have been made upon him before Helen fled away with Paris.

In short, I think this passage wants a further vindication: the circumstances are low, if not incredible. Virgil, the great imitator of Homer, has given us a very different and more noble description of the destruction of Troy: he has not thought fit to imitate him in this description.

If we allow Helen to act by compulsion, to have fear'd the Trojans, and that Deiphobus was sent as a spy upon her actions; yet this is no vindication of her conduct: she still acts a mean part, and thro' fear becomes an accomplice in endeavouring to betray and ruin the Greeks.

I shall just add, that after the death of Paris, Helen married Deiphobus; that the story of the wooden horse is probably founded upon the taking of Troy by an engine call'd a Horse, as the like engine was call'd a Ram by the Romans.

Menelaus is fir'd with indignation at the injuries offer'd his friend by the Suitors: he breaks out into an exclamation, and in a just contempt vouchsafes not to mention them: he thinks he fully distinguishes whom he intends, by calling them αναλκιδες αυτοι those cowards. The comparison which he introduces is very just, they are the Fawns, Ulysses is the Lion.

This is the first Simile that Homer has inserted in the Odyssey; but I cannot think it proceeded from a barrenness of invention, or thro' phlegm in the declension of his years, as some have imagin'd. The nature of the Poem requires a difference of stile from the Iliad: The Iliad rushes along like a torrent; the Odyssey flows gently on like a deep stream, with a smooth tranquillity: Achilles is all fire, Ulysses all wisdom.

The Simile in Homer is really beautiful; but in Hobbs ridiculous.

Can any thing be more foreign to the sense of Homer, or worse translated? He construes κρημνους εξερεησι, by telling stories of hills and dales to the Lion's whelps, instead of Juga investigat: but such mistakes are so frequent in Hobbs, that one would almost suspect his learning in Greek: he has disgraced the best Poet, and a very great Historian; Homer, and Thucydides.

The Poet here gives an account of one of Ulysses's adventures. Philomelides was King of Lesbos, and Eustathius observes, that there was a tradition that Ulysses and Diomedes slew him, and turn'd a stately monument he had rais'd for himself into a public place for the reception of strangers.

This description of Pharos has given great trouble to the Critics and Geographers; it is generally concluded, that the distance of Pharos is about seven Stadia from Alexandria; Ammianus Marcellinus mentions this very passage thus, lib. 22. Insula Pharos, ubi Protea cum Phocarum gregibus diversatum Homerus fabulatur inflatius, a civitatis littore mille passibus disparata, or, about a mile distant from the shores. How then comes Homer to affirm it to be distant a full day's sail? Dacier answers, that Homer might have heard that the Nile, continually bringing down much earthy substance, had enlarg'd the continent: and knowing it not to be so distant in his time, took the liberty of a Poet, and describ'd it as still more distant in the days of Menelaus. But Dacier never sees a mistake in Homer. Had his Poetry been worse if he had describ'd the real distance of Pharos? It is allowable in a Poet to disguise the truth, to adorn his story; but what ornament has he given his Poetry by this enlargement? Bochart has fully prov'd that there is no accession to the Continent from any substance that the Nile brings down with it: the violent agitation of the seas prohibit it from lodging, and forming itself into solidity. Eratosthenes is of opinion, that Homer was ignorant of the mouths of Nile: but Strabo answers, that his silence about them is not an argument of his ignorance, for neither has he ever mention'd where he was born. But Strabo does not enter fully into the meaning of Eratosthenes: Eratosthenes does not mean that Homer was ignorant of the mouths of Nile from his silence, but because he places Pharos at the distance of a whole day's sail from the Continent. The only way to unite this inconsistence is to suppose, that the Poet intended to specify the Pelusiac mouth of Nile, from which Pharos stands about a day's sail: but this is submitted to the Critics.

I can't tell whether one should venture to make use of the word Nile in the translation, it is doubtless an Anachronism; that name being unknown in the times of Homer and Menelaus, when the Nile was call'd Ægyptus. Homer in this very book

Yet on the other hand, this name of Ægyptus is so little known, that a common Reader would scarce distinguish the river from the country; and indeed universal custom has obtain'd for using the Latin name instead of the Grecian, in many other instances which are equally Anachronisms. Witness all the names of the Gods and Goddesses throughout Homer. Jupiter for Zeus, Juno for Erè, Neptune for Posidaon, &c.

Menelaus says, hunger was so violent among his companions, that they were compell'd to eat fish. Plutarch in his Symposiacs observes, that among the Ægyptians, Syrians, and Greeks, to abstain from fish was esteem'd a piece of sanctity; that tho' the Greeks were encamp'd upon the Hellespont, there is not the least intimation that they eat fish, or any sea-provision; and that the companions of Ulysses, in the 12th book of the Odyssey, never sought for fish till all their other provisions were consum'd, and that the same necessity compell'd them to eat the herds of the Sun which induced them to taste fish. No fish is ever offer'd in sacrifice: The Pythagoreans in particular command fish not to be eaten more strictly than any other animal: Fish afford no excuse at all for their destruction, they live as it were in another world, disturb not our air, consume not our fruits, or injure the waters; and therefore the Pythagoreans, who were unwilling to offer violence to any animals, fed very little, or not at all on fishes. I thought it necessary to insert this from Plutarch, because it is an observation that explains other passages in the sequel of the Odyssey.

Eustathius enumerates various opinions concerning Proteus; some understand Proteus allegorically to signify the first matter which undergoes all changes; others make him an emblem of true friendship, which ought not to be settled till it has been try'd in all shapes: others make Proteus a picture of a flatterer, who takes up all shapes, and suits himself to all forms, in compliance to the temper of the person whom he courts. The Greeks (observes Diodorus) imagin'd all these metamorphoses of Proteus to have been borrow'd from the practices of the Ægyptian Kings, who were accustom'd to wear the figures of Lions, Bulls or Dragons in their diadems, as emblems of Royalty, and sometimes that of Trees, &c. not so much for ornament as terror. Others took Proteus to be an enchanter; and Eustathius recounts several that were eminent in this art, as Cratisthenes the Phliasian, (which Dacier renders by mistake Callisthenes the Physician) who when he pleased could appear all on fire, and assume other appearances to the astonishment of the spectators: such also was Xenophon, Scymnus of Tarentum, Philippides of Syracuse, Heraclitus of Mitylene, and Nymphodorus, all practisers of magical arts; and Eustathius recites that the Phocæ were made use of in their Incantations. Some write that Proteus was an Ægyptian tumbler, who could throw himself into variety of figures and postures; others, a Stage-player; others, that he was a great General, skill'd in all the arts and stratagems of war: Dacier looks upon him to have been an enchanter, or θαυματοποιος. 'Tis certain from Herodotus, that there was in the times of Menelaus a King named Proteus, who reign'd in Memphis; that Ægypt was always remarkable for those who excell'd in magical Arts; thus Jannes and Jambres chang'd, at least in appearance, a rod into a Serpent, and water into blood: It is not therefore improbable but that Menelaus hearing of him while he was in Ægypt, went to consult him as an Enchanter, which kind of men always pretended to fore-know events: This perhaps was the real foundation of the whole story concerning Proteus; the rest is the fiction and embellishment of the Poet, who ascribes to his Proteus whatever the credulity of men usually ascribes to Enchanters.

This is founded upon the practice of Enchanters, who never give their answers, till they have astonish'd the imagination of those who consult them with their juggling delusions. Dacier.

Proteus has, thro' the whole story, been describ'd as a God who knew all things; it may then be ask'd, how comes it that he did not foreknow the violence that was design'd against his own person? and is it not a contradiction, that he who knew Menelaus without information, should not know that he lay in ambush to seize him? The only answer that occurs to me is, that these enchanters never pretend to have an inherent fore-knowledge of events, but learn things by magical arts, and by recourse to the secrets of their profession; so that Proteus having no suspicion, had not consulted his art, and consequently might be surprized by Menelaus: So far is agreeable to the pretensions of such deluders: The Poet indeed has drawn him in colours stronger than life; but Poetry adds or detracts at pleasure, and is allow'd frequently to step out of the way, to bring a foreign ornament into the story.

Homer continually inculcates morality, and piety to the Gods; he gives in this place a great instance of the necessity of it. Menelaus cannot succeed in any of his actions, till he pays due honours to the Gods; the neglect of sacrifice is the occasion of all his calamity, and the performance of it opens a way to all his future prosperity.

Homer, it must be confess'd, gives the epithet Διιπετης generally to all rivers; if he had used it here peculiarly, there might have been room to have imagin'd that he had been acquainted with the true cause of the inundations of this famous river: The word Διιπετης implies it: For it is now generally agreed, that these prodigious inundations proceed from the vast rains and the melting of the snows on the mountains of the Moon in Æthiopia, about the autumnal Æquinox; when those rains begin to fall, the river by degrees increases, and as they abate, it decreases; the word Δραπετης is therefore peculiarly proper when apply'd to the Nile; for tho' all rivers depend upon the waters that fall from the air, or εκ Δισς, yet the Nile more especially; for when the rain ceases, the Nile consists only of seven empty channels.

It is in the original, He dy'd, having drunk the salt water. This verse has been omitted in many editions of Homer; and the Ancients, says Eustathius, blame Aristarchus for not marking it as a verse that ought to be rejected; the simplicity of it consists in the sense, more than in the terms, and it is unworthy of Proteus to treat the death of Ajax with pleasantry, as he seems to do, by adding having drunk salt water: But why may not Proteus be suppos'd to be serious, and the terms Αλμυρεν υδωρ, to imply no more than that he was drown'd in waves of the ocean? I know only one reason that can give any colour to the objection, viz. its being possibly become a vulgar expression, and used commonly in a ludicrous sense; then indeed it is to be avoided in Poetry; but it does not follow, because perhaps it might be used in this manner in the days of these Critics, that therefore it was so used in the days of Homer. What was poetical in the time of the Poet might be grown vulgar in the time of the Critics.

Dacier translates βουν, by taureau a bull; and misunderstands Eustathius who directly says, that in the 2d Iliad the Poet compares Agamemnon to a bull, in this place to an oxe, ταυρω εικασεν νυν δε βοι αυτον ωμοιωσεν. The one was undoubtedly design'd to describe the courage and majestic port of a warrior, the other to give us an image of a Prince falling in full peace and plenty, ως βων επι φατνη.

Proteus in the beginning of his relation had said, that one person was alive, and ramain'd enclosed by the ocean: How then comes Menelaus here to say, Give me an account of that other person who is alive, or dead? Perhaps the sorrow which Menelaus conceived for his friend Ulysses, might make him fear the worst; and Proteus adding enclos'd by the ocean, might give a suspicion that he was dead, the words being capable of ambiguity. However this be, it sets the friendship of Menelaus in a strong light: where friendship is sincere, a state of uncertainty is a state of fears, we dread even possibilities, and give them an imaginary certainty. Upon this, one of the finest compliments that a Poet ever made to a patron turns, that of Horace to Mæcenas, in the first of the Epodes.

It may not perhaps be disagreeable to the Reader to observe, that Virgil has borrow'd this story of Proteus from Homer, and translated it almost literally. Rapine says, that Homer's description is more ingenious and fuller of invention, but Virgil's more judicious. I wish that Critic had given his reasons for his opinion. I believe in general, the plan of the Iliad and Odyssey is allow'd by the best of Critics to be more perfect than that of the Æneis. Homer, with respect to the unity of time, has the advantage very manifestly; Rapine confesses it, and Aristotle proposes him as an example to all Epic Authors. Where then is the superiority of judgment? Is it that there are more fabulous, I mean incredible, stories in Homer than Virgil? as that of the Cyclops, the ships of Alcinous, &c. Virgil has imitated most of these bold fables, and the story of the ships of Alcinous is not more incredible than the transformation of the ships of Æneas. But this is too large a subject to be discuss'd in the compass of these Annotations. In particular passages I freely allow the preference to Virgil, as in the descent of Æneas into hell, &c. but in this story of Proteus, I cannot see any superiority of judgment. Virgil is little more than a translator; to shew the particulars would be too tedious: I refer it to the Reader to compare the two Authors, and shall only instance in one passage.

Homer has a manifest advantage in the occasion of the story: The loss of a few bees seems to be a cause too trivial for an undertaking so great as the surprize of a Deity; whereas the whole happiness of Menelaus depends upon this consultation of Proteus: This is a far more important cause, and consequently in this respect something more is due to Homer, than the sole honour of an inventor.

This is the only place in which the Elysian field is mention'd in Homer. The conjectures of the Ancients are very various about it: Plato in his Phæd. places it in cœlo stellato, or the region of the Stars; but since Homer fixes it, εις πειρατα γαιης, or (as Milton expresses it) at the earth's green end, I will pass over the conjectures of others, especially since the μακαρων Νησοι, by which others express Elysium, confines it to this world.

Strabo, says Eustathius, places it not far from Maurusia, that lies near the Streights: It is suppos'd by Bochart, as Dacier observes, that the fable is of Phœnician extraction, that Alizuth in Hebrew signifies joy or exultation, which word the Greeks, adapting to their way of pronunciation, call'd Elysius. If this be true, I should come into an opinion that has much prevail'd, that the Greeks had heard of Paradise from the Hebrews; and that the Hebrews describing Paradise as a place of Alizuth, or joy, gave occasion to all the fables of the Grecian Elysium.

How comes it to pass that Menelaus proffers three horses to Telemachus? This was a compleat set among the Ancients, they used one Pole-horse and two leaders. Eustathius.

This passage where Telemachus refuses the horses has been much observ'd, and turn'd to a moral sense, viz. as a lesson to men to desire nothing but what is suitable to their conditions. Horace has introduced it into his Epistles.

This is the reason why Ulysses (as Eustathius observes upon the 10th of the Iliads) leaves the horses of Rhesus to the disposal of Diomedes; so that the same spirit of Wisdom reign'd in Telemachus, that was so remarkable in Ulysses. This is the reason why Menelaus smil'd; it was not at the frankness or simplicity of Telemachus, but it was a smile of joy, to see the young Prince inherit his father's wisdom.

It is the remark of Eustathius, that Telemachus is far from exalting the nature of his country; he confesses it to be barren, and more barren than the neighbouring Islands; yet that natural and laudable affection which all worthy persons have for their country makes him prefer it to places of a more happy situation. This appears to me a replication to what Menelaus had before offer'd concerning the transplantation of Ulysses to Sparta; this is contain'd in ιπποβοτοιο; and then the meaning is, 'Tis true Ithaca is a barren region, yet more desirable than this country of Lacedæmon, this ιπποβοτος γαια. It is the more probable from the offer of horses which Menelaus had then made, and is also another reason for the smile of Menelaus.

Eustathius remarks that Menelaus, tho' he has expressed the greatest friendship for Ulysses, yet makes no offer to restore the fortunes of his friend by any military assistance; tho' he had a most fair opportunity given him to repay the past kindness of Ulysses to his wife Penelope, and his son Telemachus; and how comes Telemachus not to ask it either of Nestor or Menelaus? He answers, that this depended upon the uncertainty they were yet under, concerning the life of Ulysses. But the truer reason in my opinion is, that the nature of Epic Poetry requires a contrary conduct: The Heroe of the Poem is to be the chief agent, and the re-establishment of his fortunes must be owing to his own wisdom and valour. I have enlarg'd upon this already, so that there is no occasion in this place to insist upon it.

We have here another use which the Poet makes of the voyage of Telemachus. Eustathius remarks that these incidents not only diversify but enliven the Poem. But it may be ask'd why the Poet makes not use of so fair an opportunity to insert a gallant action of Telemachus, and draw him not as eluding, but defeating his adversaries? The answer is easy; That the Suitors sail'd compleatly arm'd, and Telemachus unprovided of any weapons: and therefore Homer consults credibility, and forbears to paint his young Heroe in the colours of a Knight in Romance, who upon all disadvantages engages and defeats his opposers. But then to what purpose is this ambush of the Suitors, and what part of the design of the Poem is carry'd on by it? The very chief aim of it; To shew the sufferings of Ulysses: He is unfortunate in all relations of life, as a King, as an husband, and here very eminently as a father; these sufferings are laid down in the proposition of the Odyssey as essential to the Poem, and consequently this ambush laid by the Suitors against the life of Telemachus is an essential ornament.

Longinus in particular commends this speech as a true picture of a person that feels various emotions of soul, and is born by every gust of passion from sentiment to sentiment, with sudden and unexpected transitions. There is some obscurity in the Greek, this arises from the warmth with which she speaks, she has not leisure to explain her self fully, a circumstance natural to a person in anger.

Penelope gives a very beautiful picture of Ulysses: “The best of Princes are allow'd to have their favourites, and give a greater share of affection than ordinary to particular persons. But Ulysses was a father to all his people alike, and loved them all as his children; a father, tho' he bears a more tender affection to one child than to another, yet shews them all an equal treatment; thus also a good King is not sway'd by inclination, but justice, towards all his subjects.

One circumstance is very remarkable, and gives us a full view of a person in anger; at the very sight of Medon Penelope flies out into passion, she gives him not time to speak one syllable, but speaks her self as if all the Suitors were present, and reproaches them in the person of Medon, tho' Medon is just to her and Ulysses; but anger is an undistinguishing passion. What she says of ingratitude, recalls to my memory what is to be found in Laertius: Aristotle being ask'd what thing upon earth soonest grew old? reply'd, an Obligation. Τι ταχιστα γηραρκει; respondit, χαρις.

Were this passage to be render'd literally, it would run thus; climb the swift ships, which are horses to men on the seas. Eustathius observes the allusion is very just, and that the only doubt is, whether it be brought in opportunely by Penelope? it may be doubted, if the mind could find leisure to introduce such allusions? Dacier answers, that Penelope speaks thus thro' indignation: The grief that she conceives at the hardiness of men, in finding out a way to pass the seas as well as land, furnished her with these figures very naturally, for figures are agreeable to passion.

Dacier offers a Criticism upon these last words of Euryclea: It cannot be imagin'd these fertile fields can be spoken of Ithaca, Plutarch's description of it is entirely contradictory to this: “Ithaca, says he, is rough and mountainous, fit only to breed goats; upon cultivation it scarce yields any fruits, and these so worthless, as scarce to recompence the labour of gathering.” Homer therefore by this expression intended the other dominions of Ulysses, such as Cephalenia, &c.

But I question not that the whole dominions of Ulysses are included, Ithaca as well as Cephalenia; for tho' Ithaca was mountainous, yet the vallies were fruitful, according to the description of it in the 13th of the Odyssey.

As for her remark upon αποτροθι it is of no validity; the word stands in opposition to Δωματα and implies no more than here, or at a distance in general.

It may be ask'd whence this conjecture of the Suitors arises? Penelope is describ'd as weeping grievously, and fainting away, and yet immediately the Suitors conclude she is preparing for the Nuptials. Eustathius answers, that undoubtedly the Suitors understood the Queen had purify'd her self with water, and supplicated the Goddess Minerva, tho' the Poet omits the relation of such little particularities. But whence is it that the Poet gives a greater share of wisdom to Euryclea than to Penelope? Penelope commands a servant to fly with the news of the absence of Telemachus to Laertes, which could not at all advantage Telemachus, and only grieve Laertes: Euryclea immediately diverts her from that vain intention, advises her to have recourse to heaven, and not add misery to the already miserable Laertes: This is Wisdom in Euryclea. But it must be confess'd that the other is Nature in Penelope: Euryclea is calm, Penelope in a passion: and Homer would have been a very bad painter of human Nature, if he had drawn Penelope thus heated with passion in the mild temper of Euryclea; grief and resentment give Penelope no time to deliberate, whereas Euryclea is less concern'd, and consequently capable of thinking with more tranquillity,

Antinous speaks thus in return to what had been before said by one of the Suitors concerning Telemachus, viz. “the Queen little imagines that her son's death approaches;” he fears lest Penelope should know their intentions, and hinder their measures by raising the subjects of Ithaca that still retain'd their fidelity. Dacier.

The Poet, to shew the majesty and high spirit of Penelope, compares her to a Lioness: He manages the allusion very artfully: he describes the Lioness not as exerting any dreadful act of violence, (for such a comparison is only proper to be apply'd to a Heroe) but inclosed by her enemies; which at once shews both her danger and nobleness of spirit under it: It is in the Greek δολιον κυκλον, which may signify either, a circle of toils or nets, or a circle of enemies: The former is perhaps preferable, as corresponding best with the condition of Penelope, who was surrounded with the secret ambushes and snares of the Suitors. Eustathius.

We have here an imaginary Being introduc'd by the Poet: The whole is manag'd with great judgment; It is short, because it has not a direct and immediate relation to the progress of the Poem, and because such imaginary entercourses have ever been looked upon as sudden in appearance, and as sudden in vanishing away. The use the Poet makes of it, is to relieve Penelope from the extremity of despair, that she may act her part in the future scenes with courage and constancy. We see it is Minerva who sends this phantom to Penelope to comfort her: Now this is an allegory to express that as soon as the violence of sorrow was over, the mind of Penelope return'd to some degree of tranquillity: Minerva is no more than the result of her own reflection and wisdom, which banish'd from her breast those melancholy apprehensions. The manner likewise of its introduction is not less judicious; the mind is apt to dwell upon those objects in sleep which make a deep impression when awake: This is the foundation of the Poet's fiction; it is no more than a dream which he here describes, but he cloaths it with a body, gives it a momentary existence, and by this method exalts a low circumstance into dignity and Poetry.

In the original, Penelope says plainly, she is more concern'd for her son than her husband. I shall translate Dacier's observation upon this passage. We ought not to reproach Penelope for this seemingly shocking declaration, in preferring a son to an husband: Her sentiment is natural and just; she had all the reason in the world to believe that Ulysses was dead, so that all her hopes, all her affection was entirely placed upon Telemachus: His loss therefore must unavoidably touch her with the highest degree of sensibility; if he is lost, she can have recourse to no second comfort. But why may we not allow the reason which Penelope her self gives for this superiority of sorrow for Telemachus? “Telemachus, says she, is unexperienc'd in the world, and unable to contend with difficulties; whereas Ulysses knew how to extricate himself upon all emergencies.” This is a sufficient reason why she should fear more for Telemachus than Ulysses: Her affection might be greater for Ulysses than Telemachus, yet her fears might be stronger for the son than the husband, Ulysses being capable to surmount dangers by experience, Telemachus being new to all difficulties.

It may be ask'd what is the reason of this conduct, and why should the Phantom refuse to relate any thing concerning the condition of Ulysses? Eustathius answers, that if the Phantom had related the full truth of the story, the Poem had been at an end; the very constitution of it requires that Ulysses should arrive unknown to all, but chiefly to his wife, as will appear in the prosecution of the story: The question is very natural for an affectionate wife to make concerning an absent husband; but this being an improper place for the discovery, the Poet defers the solution of it, 'till the unravelling of the whole in the conclusion of the Poem.

The action of this book takes up the space of two nights and one day, so that from the opening of the Poem to the introduction of Ulysses are six days compleated.

But how long a time Telemachus afterwards stay'd with Menelaus, is a question which has employ'd some modern French Critics; one of which maintains, that he stay'd no longer than these two nights at Lacedæmon: But it is evident from the sequel of the Odyssey, that Telemachus arriv'd again at Ithaca two days after Ulysses; but Ulysses was twenty nine days in passing from Ogygia to Ithaca, and consequently during that whole time Telemachus must have been absent from Ithaca. The ground of that Critick's mistake was from the silence of Homer as to the exact time of his stay, which was of no importance, being distinguish'd by no action, and only in an Episodical part. The same thing led me into the like error in the 33d Note on the second book, where it is said that Telemachus return'd to Ithaca in less than twelve days.