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Poetry is a mixture of History and Fable; the foundation is historical, because the Poet does not entirely neglect truth; the rest is fabulous, because naked truth would not be sufficiently surprizing; for the Marvellous ought to take place, especially in Epic Poetry. But it may be ask'd, does not Homer offend against all degrees of probability in these Episodes of the Sirens, Scylla and Charybdis, Cyclops and Antiphates? How are these incredible stories to be reduc'd into the bounds of probability? 'tis true, the Marvellous ought to be used in Epic Poetry; but ought it to transgress all power of belief? Aristotle in his Art of Poetry lays down a rule to justify these incidents: A Poet, says that Author, ought to prefer things impossible, provided they are probable, before things possible, that are nevertheless incredible. Chap. 15. This rule is not without obscurity; but Monsieur Dacier has explain'd it in his Annotations upon that Author: A thing may be impossible, and yet probable: Thus when the Poet introduces a Deity, any incident humanly impossible receives a full probability by being ascribed to the skill and power of a God: 'Tis thus we justifie the story of the transformation of the ship of the Phæacians into a rock, and the fleet of Æneas into Sea-nymphs. But such relations ought not to be too frequent in a Poem; for it is an established rule, that all incidents which require a divine probability only, should be so disengaged from the action, that they may be substracted from it, without destroying it; for instance, if we omit the transformation of the ship, the action of the Odyssey will retain the same perfection. And therefore those Episodes which are necessary, and make essential parts of the Poem, ought to be grounded upon human probability; now the Episodes of Circe, Polypheme, the Sirens, &c. are necessary to the action of the Odyssey: But will any man say they are within the bounds of human probability? How then shall we solve this difficulty? Homer artificially has brought them within the degrees of it; he makes Ulysses relate them before a credulous and ignorant assembly; he lets us into the character of the Phæacians, by saying they were a very dull nation, in the sixth book,

It is thus the Poet gives probability to his fables, by reciting them to a people who believed them, and who through a laziness of life were fond of romantic stories; he adapts himself to his audience, and yet even here he is not unmindful of his more intelligent Readers; he gives them (observes Bossu) in these fables all the pleasure that can be reap'd from physical or moral truths, disguis'd under miraculous Allegories, and by this method reconciles them to poetical probability.

There are several heads to which Probability may be reduced; either to Divinity, and then nothing is improbable, for every thing is possible to a Deity; or to our Ideas of things whether true or false: thus in the descent of Ulysses into Hell, there is not one word of probability or historic truth, but if we examine it by the ideas that the old world entertain'd of Hell, it becomes probable; or lastly, we may have respect to vulgar opinion or fame; for a Poet is at liberty to relate a falshood, provided it be commonly believed to be true. We might have recourse to this last rule, which is likewise laid down by Aristotle, to vindicate the Odyssey, if there were occasion for it; for in all ages such fables have found belief.

I will only add, that Virgil has given a sanction to these stories, by inserting them in his Æneis; and Horace calls them by the remarkable epithet of specious miracles.

Longinus calls these fables Dreams, but adds, that they are the dreams of Jupiter; he likewise blames these Episodes, because in all of them there is much more fable and narration than action: Which criticism may perhaps be too severe, if we consider that past adventures are here brought into present use, and though they be not actions, yet they are the representations of actions, agreeable to the nature of Episodes.

It may be question'd if Virgil is so happy in the choice of the audience, to which he relates many of these fables; the Carthaginians were not ignorant, like the Phæacians: From whence then do his stories receive their Probability? It is not so easy to answer this objection, unless we have recourse to common fame: Virgil was not the Author of them, Homer had establish'd them, and brought them into fame, so that Virgil had common opinion to vindicate him, join'd with Homer's authority.

It is difficult to distinguish what is truth from what is fiction in this relation: Diodorus, who was a Sicilian, speaks of Æolus, and refers to this passage: “This is that Æolus, says he, who entertain'd Ulysses in his voyages: He is reported to have been a pious and just Prince, and given to hospitality, and therefore φιλος αθανατοις, as Homer expresses it.” But whence has the fable of his being the Governor of the Winds taken its foundation? Eustathius tells us, that he was a very wise man, and one who from long observation could foretell what weather was like to follow: others say he was an Astronomer, and studied chiefly the nature of the Winds; and as Atlas from his knowledge in Astrology was said to sustain the heavens; so Æolus, from his experience and observation, was fabled to be the ruler or disposer of the Winds. But what explication can be given of this bag, in which he is said to bind the Winds? Eratosthenes, continues Eustathius, said pleasantly, that we shall then find the places where Ulysses voyag'd, when we have discover'd the artist, or cobler, τον σκυτεα, who sew'd up this bag of the winds. But the reason of the fiction is supposed to be this: Æolus taught the use and management of sails, and having foretold Ulysses from what quarter the winds would blow, he may be said to have gather'd them into a kind of enclosure, and retain'd them as use should require. Diodorus explains it a little differently, lib. 5. Προς δε τουτοις την των ιστιων χρειαν τοις ναυτικοις επεισηγησασθαι, και απο της του πυρος προσημασιας παρατετηρηκοτα, προλεγειν τους εγκωριους ανεμους ευστοχως εξ ου ταμιαν ανεμων μυθος ανεδειξε; that is, “He taught the use of sails, and having learn'd from observing the bearing of the smoke and fires (of those Vulcanian Islands) what winds would blow, he usually foretold them with exactness, and from hence he is fabled to be the disposer of the Winds.” The words of Varro, quoted by Servius, are to the same purpose: Varro autem dicit hunc insularum regem fuisse, ex quarum nebulis & fumo Vulcaniæ insulæ prædicens futura flabra ventorum, ab imperitis visus est ventos suâ potestate retinere.

Polybius will not admit that this story of Æolus is entirely fable; and Strabo is of the same opinion, that Ulysses was in the Sicilian seas; and that there was such a King as Æolus, he affirms to be truth, but that he met with such adventures is, in the main, fiction. There may another reason, as Eustathius observes, be given for the fiction of binding up the winds in a bag: they who practis'd the Art of Incantation or charms, made use of the skin of a Dolphin, and pretended by certain ceremonies to bind or loose the winds as they pleased; and this practice is a sufficient ground to build upon in Poetry.

The solution also of Bochart is worth our notice: Homer borrowed the word Αιολας from the Phæacian Aol, which signifies a whirlwind or tempest, from whence the Greeks form'd their word αελλα; the Phæacians observing the King of this Island to be very expert in foretelling the winds, called him King Aolin, or King of the winds and storms; from hence Homer form'd a proper name and call'd him Αιολος. It must be confess'd, that this solution is ingenious, and not without an appearance of probability.

But having laid together what may be said in vindication of this story of Æolus: Justice requires that I should not suppress what has been objected against it by no less a Critic than Longinus: he observes that a genius naturally lofty sometimes falls into trifling; an instance of this, adds he, is what Homer says of the bag wherein Æolus inclosed the winds. Cap. 7. περι υψους.

The word in the orginal is πλωτη: some take it, as Eustathius remarks, for a proper name; but Aristarchus believes Homer intended to express by it a floating Island, that was frequently removed by concussions and earthquakes, for it is seen sometimes on the right, at other times on the left hand; the like has been said of Delos; and Herodotus thus describes the Island Echemis in the Ægyptian seas. Dionysius, in his περιηγησις, affirms, that this Island is not called by the name of πλωτη, by reason of its floating, but because it is an Island of fame, and much sail'd unto, or πλωτη by navigators; that is, πλεομενη, or εν τοποις πλεομενοις κειμενη, or lying in seas of great navigation: but perhaps the former opinion of Aristarchus may be preferable, as it best contributes to raise the wonder and admiration of the credulous ignorant Phæacians, which was the sole intention of Ulysses.

These Islands were seven in number, (but eleven at this day) Strongyle, Hiera, Didyme, Hicesia, Lipara, Ericodes, and Phænic{i}des, all lying in the Sicilian seas, as Diodorus Siculus testifies; but differs in the name of one of the Islands.

Strabo is of opinion, that the Island call'd by Homer, the Æolian, is Strongyle; Η δε Στρογγυλη εστι διαπυρος, τω φεγγει πλεονεκτουσα, ενταυθα δε τον Αιολον οικησαι φασι. “This Island Strongyle abounds with subterraneous fires, &c. and here Æolus is said to have reign'd.” Pliny agrees with Strabo, lib. 3. but Dacier understands it to be Lipara, according to Virgil, Æn. lib. 8. but in reality the seven were all call'd the Æolian Islands.

But why is it fabled to be surrounded with a wall of brass? Eustathius says, that this may proceed from its being almost inaccessible; but this reason is not sufficient to give foundation to such a fiction. Dacier observes that it is thus described, because of the subterranean fires, which from time to time break out from the entrails of this Island. Aristotle speaking of Lipara, which is the most considerable of the Æolian Islands, thus describes it; “All night long the Island Lipara appears enlighten'd with fires.” The same relation agrees with Strongyle, call'd Strombolo at this day.

I will take the liberty to propose a conjecture, which may perhaps not unhappily give a reason of this fiction of the wall of brass, from this description of Aristotle: All night fires appear (says that Author) from this Island, and these fires falling upon the seas, might cast a ruddy reflexion round the Island, which to navigators might look like a wall of brass enclosing it. This is but a conjecture drawn from appearances; but to write according to appearances is allowable in Poetry, where a seeming or a real truth may be used indifferently.

Diodorus Siculus mentions the names of the six sons of Æolus, but is silent concerning his daughters, and therefore others, who can find mysteries in the plainest description, assure us, that this is not to be understood historically, but allegorically: Æolus represents the year, his twelve children are the twelve months, six of which are female, to denote those six months in which the earth brings forth her fruits; by his six sons the other months are understood, in which the seed is sown, or in which the herbs, fruits, &c. are nourished in order to production, these may therefore be called males. But this is to darken an Author into mystery, not to explain him. Dacier gives us another allegorical interpretation: The Poet makes him the governor of the winds, and gives him twelve children, these denote the twelve principal winds; half of which children are males, half females; the males denote the winter winds, which as it were brood upon the earth, and generate its increase; the females those warmer seasons of the year, when the more prolific winds blow, and make the earth teem with fruitfulness: These children of Æolus are in continual feasts in his Palace; that is, the winds are continually fed by the exhalations from the earth, which may be call'd their food or nourishment: The brothers and sisters inter-marry; this denotes the nature of the winds, which blow promiscuously, and one wind unites it self with another from all quarters of the world indifferently: The brothers and sisters are said to sleep by night together; that is, the winds are usually still and calm, and as it were rest together, at that season. But what occasion is there to have recourse to an uncertain Allegory, when such great names as Polybius, Strabo, and Diodorus assure us, that this relation is in part true History; and if there was really such a King as Æolus, why might he not be a father of six sons and as many daughters? I should prefer a plain History to a dark Allegory.

Homer was not unacquainted with the wonders related of this Island Lipara. “In this Island, says Aristotle, a monument is reported to be, of which they tell miracles: they assure us that they hear issuing from it the sound of timbrels or cymbals, plainly and distinctly.” It is easy to perceive that this is founded upon the noise the fires make which are enclosed in the caverns of this Island, and that Homer alludes to the ancient name of it, which in the Phœnician language (Meloginin, as Bochart observes) signifies the land of those who play upon instruments. We learn from Callimachus, in his Hymn to Diana, that Lipara was originally call'd Meligounis. She (Diana) went to find out the Cyclops: she found them in Lipara, for that is the name the Isle now bears, but anciently it was call'd Meligonnis; they were labouring a huge mass of red hot iron, &c. So that Homer is not all invention, but adapts his Poetry to tradition and ancient story. Dacier.

Eustathius observes that these fires were a kind of beacons kept continually burning to direct Navigators; the smoke gave notice by day, the light of the flame by night. Ithaca was environ'd with rocks, and consequently there was a necessity for this care, to guide sea-faring men to avoid those rocks, and to point out the places of landing with security.

But is it not an imputation to the wisdom of Ulysses, to suffer himself to be surpriz'd with sleep, when he was almost ready to enter the ports of his own country? and is it not probable that the joy he must be suppos'd to receive at the sight of it, should not induce him to a few hours watchfulness? It is easier to defend his sleeping here, than in the 13th of the Odyssey: the Poet very judiciously tells us, that Ulysses for nine days together almost continually wak'd and took charge of the vessel, and the word κεκμηωτα shews that nature was wearied out, and that he fell into an involuntary repose; it can therefore be no diminution to his character to be forced to yield to the calls of nature, any more than it is to be hungry: His prudence and love of his country sufficiently appear from the care he took thro' the space of nine days to arrive at it; so that this circumstance must be imputed to the infirmity of human nature, and not to a defect of care or wisdom in Ulysses.

This relation has been blam'd as improbable; what occasion was there to unbind the bag, when these companions of Ulysses might have satisfy'd their curiosity that there was no treasure in it from the brightness of it? But Homer himself obviates this objection, by telling us that Æolus fasten'd it in the vessel, as Eustathius observes,

Bossu gives us the moral of this fable or allegory, cap. 10. lib. 1. By the winds inclosed in the bag, into which the companions of Ulysses were so unwise as to pry, is to be understood, that we ought not to intrude into those mysteries of government which the Prince intends to keep secret: The tempests and confusions rais'd by the loosing the winds, represent the mischiefs and disorders that arise from such a vain curiosity in the subject: A wise people permit the winds to rest without molestation, and satisfie themselves with those that the Prince is pleas'd to release, and believe them to be the most proper and useful. But whatever judgment is pass'd upon this explication, it is certainly an instance of the ill consequences of avarice, and unseasonable curiosity.

We ought not to infer from this passage, that Homer thought a person might lawfully take away his own life to avoid the greatest dangers; what Ulysses here speaks arises from the violence of a sudden passion, and gives us a true picture of Human Nature: The wisest of men are not free from the infirmity of passion, but reason corrects and subdues it. This is the case in the instance before us; Ulysses has so much of the man in him as to be liable to the passion of man; but so much virtue and wisdom as to restrain and govern it.

This unhospitable character of Æolus may seem contrary to the human disposition which Homer before ascrib'd to him; he therefore tells us, that Ulysses appear'd to him to be an object of divine vengeance, and that to give him assistance would be to act against the will of the Gods. But, observes Eustathius, is not this an ill-chosen relation to be made to the Phæacians, as the Critics have remark'd, and might it not deter them from assisting a man whom Æolus had rejected as an enemy to the Gods? He answers, that it was evident to the Phæacians, that Ulysses was no longer under the displeasure of Heaven, that the imprecations of Polypheme were fulfilled; he being to be transported to his own country by strangers, according to his prayer in the ninth of the Odyssey, and consequently the Phæacians have nothing to fear from the assistance which they lend Ulysses.

This passage has been thought to be very difficult; but Eustathius makes it intelligible: The Land of the Læstrigons was fruitful, and fit for pasturage; it was the practice to tend the sheep by day, and the oxen by night; for it was infested by a kind of fly that was very grievous to the oxen by day, whereas the wool of the sheep defended them from it: and therefore the shepherds drove their oxen to pasture by night. If the same shepherd who watched the sheep by day, could pass the night without sleep, and attend the oxen, he perform'd a double duty, and consequently merited a double reward. Homer says, that the ways of the night and day were near to each other, that is, the pastures of the sheep and oxen, and the ways that led to them were adjacent; for the shepherd that drove his flocks home, (or εισελαων, as Homer expresses it,) could call to the herdsman, who drove his herds to pasture, or εξελαων, and be heard with ease, and therefore the roads must be adjoining.

Crates gives us a very different interpretation: He asserts that Homer intended to express the situation of the Læstrigons, and affirms that they lay under the head of the Dragon, (Κεφαλην δρακοντος, which Dacier renders the tail of a Dragon) according to Aratus,

which Tully thus translates,

If this be true, the Poet intended to express that there was scarce any night at all among the Læstrigons, according to that of Manilius,

But how will this agree with the situation of the Læstrigons, who were undoubtedly Sicilians, according to the direct affirmation of Thucydides, lib. 6. of his History? Besides, if Læstrigonia lay under the head of the Dragon, Ulysses must have spent seven months instead of seven days, in sailing from the Æolian Islands to that country. Neither is there any necessity to have recourse to this solution; for what signifies the length or shortness of the day to the double wages of the shepherds, when it was paid to him who took upon him a double charge of watching the whole day and night, which comprehends the space of four and twenty hours; which alone, whether the greater part of it was by night or day, entituled the shepherd to a double reward? I therefore should rather chuse the former interpretation, with which Didymus agrees. Νυκτεριναι, και ημεριναι νομαι εγγυς εισι της πολεως; that is, “both the night pastures, and those of the day, are adjacent to the city.

It is evident that the Læstrigons also inhabited Formiæ, a city of Campania near Cajeta: Thus Horace, lib. 3. Ode 17.

It was also call'd Hormiæ, according to Strabo, Φορμιαι, Λακωνικον κτισμα, Ορμιαι λεγομενον δια το ευορμον; that is, “Formiæ was built by a Laconian, call'd also Hormiæ, from its being an excellent station for ships.” Tully had this place in view in his epistle to Atticus, lib. 2. Epist. 13. Si vero in hanc τηλεπυλον, veneris λαιστρυγονιην, Formias dico. And Pliny to the same purpose, lib. 3. cap. 5. Oppidum Formiæ, Hormiæ ante dictum ut existimavêre, antiqua Læstrigonum sedes. But how will this agree with Homer, who places them in Sicily, and Tully and Pliny in Campania in Italy?

Dacier answers, that they were originally Sicilians, as appears from Pliny, lib. 3. Cap. 8. Flumina, Symæthus, Terias, intus Læstrigonii campi, oppidum Leontini. And why might not these Læstrigons, or a Colony of them, leave Sicily to settle in Italy, as it is evident the Phæacians had done, and fix'd in Corcyra? Bochart's opinion concerning this nation is not to be neglected; the words Læstrigons and Leontines are of the same import; Læstrigon is a Phœnician name, Lais tircam, that is, a devouring Lion; this is render'd literally by the Latin word Leontinum, and both denote the savage and Leonine disposition of this people: the word Lamus is also of Phœnician extract: Laham, or Lahama, signifies a Devourer; from hence probably was deriv'd that Lamia, who devour'd young infants, mention'd by Horace in his Art of Poetry.

We are inform'd that there was a Queen of Libya of that name, by Diodorus Siculus; she was a person of great beauty, but of great barbarity.

It may appear at the first view, that Ulysses took more care of himself than of his companions; and it may be ask'd, why did he not restrain them from entring the bay, when his caution plainly shews that he was apprehensive of danger? had he more fear than the rest of the company? No; but a greater foresight; a wise man provides as far as lies within his power against all contingencies, and the event shews, that his companions were rash, and he wise to act with so much circumspection; they staid not for command, and therefore were justly punished for acting precipitately without the direction of their General and King.

It is not evident from whence Ulysses had the knowledge of these particulars; the persons whom he sent to search the land perish'd in the attempt, or were destroy'd with the fleet by the Læstrigons: How then could this relation be made to Ulysses? It is probable that he had his information from Circe or Calypso, for Circe in the sequel of the Odyssey tells Ulysses, that she was acquainted with all the sufferings that he had undergone by sea; and if she, as a Goddess, knew his adventures, why might she not relate to him these particulars? Homer a little lower tells us, that the Læstrigons transfix'd (πειροντες) the companions of Ulysses, and then carried them away on their weapons like so many fishes; others prefer εροντες, that is, connecting them together like a range of fishes; both which very well express the prodigious strength of these Giants: others chuse the word ασπαιροντας, or, “they eat them yet alive (palpitantes) like fishes.” The preference is submitted to the Reader.

I will only add, that possibly the relation of the barbarity of Polypheme, and Antiphates, with respect to their eating the flesh of men, may not be entirely fabulous: Modern history assures us, that savages have been found in parts of the world lately discover'd, who eat the bodies of their enemies: It is therefore no wonder that the more polite and civiliz'd nations of Antiquity, look'd upon such men as monsters, and that their Poets painted them as such, or perhaps aggravated the fierte, or fierceness of their features, struck with horror at their brutal inhumanity.

Hesiod in his Theogony agrees with Homer as to the Genealogy of Circe and Æetes.

That is, “Perseis the daughter of Oceanus bore to Phæbus, Circe and King Æetes.” But why are they fabled to be the offspring of the sun? Eustathius answers, either from their high birth, as the great personages of Antiquity were call'd Διογενεις, or the sons of Jupiter, and the Sun in the ancient Mythology represented that Deity; or from their extraordinary beauty, which might be compar'd to the Sun, or from their illustrious actions. But perhaps the whole might be deriv'd from the way of speaking among the Orientals; at this day we are inform'd from the best Historians, that such language prevails in the eastern countries, and Kings and great personages are call'd the brothers or offspring of the Sun.

This Ææa is a mountain or promontory in Italy: perhaps originally an Island, and still keeping the resemblance of it. Thus Procopius, Gothicorum, lib. 1. Circeium haud modico tractu in mare porrectum insulæ speciem fert, tam præternavigantibus quam terrestri itinere prætereuntibus: and Strabo, lib. 5. Κιρκαιον ορος νησιαζον θαλαττη τε και ελεσι. But is the relation that Homer makes of this Island, and of Circe, agreeable to truth? Undoubtedly it is not; but Homer was very well acquainted with the story of Medea, and applies what was reported of that Enchantress to Circe, and gives the name of Ææa to the island of Circe, in resemblance to Æa, a city of Colchos, the country of Medea and Æetes. That Homer was not a stranger to the story of Medea is evident, for he mentions the ship Argo in the twelfth Odyssey, in which Jason sail'd to Colchos, where Medea fell in love with him; so that tho' Circe be a fabled Deity, yet what Homer says of her, was applicable to the character of another person, and consequently a just foundation for a story in Poetry. With this opinion Strabo agrees.

Scaliger, lib. 5. of his Poetics observes, that there is a general resemblance between Ulysses in Homer, and Æneas in Virgil, and that Æneas acts in the same manner as Ulysses.

That Critic remarks, that tho' the attitudes of the two Heroes are the same, yet they are drawn by Virgil with a more masterly hand: Fusior & latior Homerus invenietur, pictior Virgilius & numeris astrictior.

Ulysses himself here takes a general view of the Island, but sends his companions for a more particular information; this was necessary to introduce the following story, and give it an air of probability; if he had made the experiment in his own person, his virtue would have been proof against the sorceries of Circe, and consequently there could not have been room for a description of her enchantments.

The interpretations of this passage are various; some, says Eustathius, judge these words not to proceed from the ignorance of Ulysses, but that they are the language of despair suggested by his continual calamities: For how could Ulysses be ignorant of the east or west, when he saw the sun rise and set every day? others understand it to signifie, that he was ignorant of the clime of the world (οπη κοσμικου κλιματος) in which this Island lay. Strabo was of opinion, that the appearances of the heavenly bodies, as the stars, &c. were different in this Island from the position which he had ever before observ'd in any country, and therefore he might well confess his ignorance, and express his concern for his almost desperate condition. He understands by ηως all that region thro' which the Sun passes opposite to the North. It is true, that the four quarters of the world may be supposed to be here mention'd by Ulysses, ηως may express the southern parts thro' which the sun passes, and ζοφος the opposite quarter, which may be said comparatively to be ζοφος, or dark: And then the rising and setting of the sun, will undeniably denote the eastern and western regions. Spondanus is of opinion, that Homer intended to express the four quarters of the world, otherwise the second verse is a tautology: Dacier calls it an explication of the first description. And indeed the mind of man is apt to dwell long upon any object, by which it is deeply affected, as Ulysses must here be supposed to be, and therefore he might enlarge upon the sentiment advanced in the former line. The meaning then will be this. I know not, says that Heroe, where this Island lies, whether east or west, where the Sun rises, or where he sets. I should therefore understand Ulysses to mean, that he knows not how this Island lies with respect to the rest of the world, and especially to Ithaca his own country. This is evident from his conduct when he sail'd from Formiæ the land of the Læstrigons; for instead of making toward the east where Ithaca lay, he bore to this Island of Circe, which lies on the west of Formiæ.

This expression may be thought unworthy of the mouth of an Heroe, and serve only to cause his companions to despair; but in reality it has a double effect, it gives us a lively picture of Human Nature, which in the greatest men will shew some degrees of sensibility, and at the same time it arms his friends against surprize, and sets the danger they are in full before their eyes, that they may proceed with due circumspection. We do not find that Ulysses abandons himself to despair, he still acts like a brave man, but joyns wisdom with bravery, and proceeds at once with the caution of a Philosopher, and the spirit of an Heroe.

Dacier is of opinion that Ulysses cast lotts out of an apprehension of being disobey'd if he had given positive commands; his companions being so greatly discourag'd by the adventures of Polypheme and the Læstrigons. It will be a nobler reason, and more worthy of an Heroe to say, that Ulysses was so far from declining a common danger, that he submits himself to an equal chance with his companions to undertake it: This expedition appear'd very hazardous, and if he had directly commanded a select number of his men to attempt it, they might have thought he had exposed them to almost certain destruction; but the contrary conduct takes away this apprehension, and at the same time shews the bravery of Ulysses, who puts himself upon a level with the meanest of his soldiers, and is ready to expose his person to an equality of danger.

Ulysses divides his men into two bodies; each contains two and twenty men: This is agreeable, observes Eustathius, to the former account of Homer; each vessel carried fifty men, six out of every one were destroy'd by the Ciconians, and therefore forty four is the exact number, inclusive of himself and the surviving company.

Virgil has borrow'd almost this whole description of Circe, and as Scaliger judges, perhaps with good reason, greatly improv'd it.

It must be confess'd, that Iræ leonum vincla recusantum, and the epithets and short descriptions adapted to the nature of each savage, are beautiful additions. Virgil likewise differs from Homer in the manner of the description: Homer draws the beasts with a gentleness of nature; Virgil paints them with the fierceness of savages. The reason of Homer's conduct is, because they still retain'd the sentiments of men, in the forms of beasts, and consequently their native tenderness.

There is a beautiful moral couch'd under this fable or allegory: Homer intended to teach, as Eustathius remarks, that pleasure and sensuality debase men into beasts. Thus Socrates understood it, as Xenophon informs us. Perhaps, adds Dacier, by the fawning wolves and lions that guard the portals of Circe's Palace, the Poet means to represent the attendants of such houses of debauchery, which appear gentle and courteous, but are in reality of a brutal disposition, and more dangerous than lions. But upon what foundation is this fable built? Many writers inform us, that Circe was a famous Courtezan, and that her beauty drew her admirers as it were by enchantment. Thus Horace writes,

It is evident, that Ulysses had a very intimate commerce with Circe, for Hesiod writes that he had two sons by her, Agrius and Latinus, who afterwards reign'd in Tuscany; other Authors call them Nausithous and Telegonus.

Dyonysius Halicarn. and Aristotle mention Telegonus as the son of Circe and Ulysses, who afterwards slew his father with the bone of a fish inadvertently. Thus Horace,

But then is not this intrigue a breach of Morality, and conjugal infidelity in that Heroe? I refer the Reader to Note XIV. of the fifth book of the Odyssey: I shall only add, that the notions of Morality are now very different from what they were in former ages: Adultery alone was esteemed criminal, and punish'd with death by the ancient Heathens: Concubinage was not only permitted, but thought to be honourable, as appears from the practice, not only of Heroes, but even of the Pagan Deities; and consequently this was the vice of the age, not in particular of Ulysses. But there is a stronger objection against Ulysses, and it may be asked, how is he to be vindicated for wasting no less space than a whole year in dalliance with an harlot? Penelope and his country seem both forgotten, and consequently he appears to neglect his own re-establishment, the chief design of the Odyssey: What adds some weight to this observation is, that his companions seem more sensible of his long absence from his country, and regret it more than that Heroe; for they awake him out of his dream, and intreat him to depart from the Island. It is therefore necessary to take away this objection: for if it be unanswerable, Ulysses is guilty of all the miseries of his family and country, by neglecting to redress them by returning; and therefore he must cease to be an Heroe, and is no longer to be propos'd as a pattern of Wisdom, and imitation, as he is in the opening of the Odyssey. But the stay of Ulysses is involuntary, and consequently irreproachable; he is in the power of a Deity, and therefore not capable of departing without her permission: this is evident: for upon the remonstrance made by his companions, he dares not undertake his voyage without her dismission. His asking consent plainly shews that it was not safe, if practicable, to go away without it; if he had been a free agent, her leave had been unnecessary: 'tis true, she tells him she will not detain him any longer against his inclinations; but this does not imply that his stay till then had been voluntary, or that he never had intreated to be dismissed before, but rather intimates the contrary: it only shews that now at last she is willing he should go away. But why should Ulysses stand in need of being admonished by his companions? does not this imply that he was unmindful of returning? This is only an evidence that they were desirous to return as well as he; but he makes a wise use of their impatience, and takes an occasion from their importunities to press for an immediate dismission.

In short, I am not pleading for perfection in the character of Ulysses: Human Nature allows it not, and therefore it is not to be ascribed to it in Poetry. But if Ulysses were here guilty, his character ceases to be of a piece; we no longer interest our selves in his misfortunes, since they are all owing to his own folly: the nature of the Poem requires, that he should be continually endeavouring to restore his affairs: if then he be here sunk into a Lethargy, his character is at once lost, his calamities are a just punishment, and the moral of the Odyssey is destroy'd, which is to shew Wisdom and Virtue rewarded, and Vice and Folly punished by the death of the suitors, and re-establishment of Ulysses.

It is an undoubted truth, that Homer ascribes more power to these magical drugs and Incantations than they have in reality; but we are to remember that he is speaking before a credulous audience, who readily believed these improbabilities, and at the same time he very judiciously provides for the satisfaction of his more understanding Readers, by couching an excellent moral under his fables; viz. that by indulging our appetites we sink below the dignity of Human Nature, and degenerate into brutality.

I am not in the number of those who believe that there never were any Magicians who perform'd things of an uncommon nature: The story of Jannes and Jambres, of the Witch of Endor, and Simon Magus, are undeniable instances of the contrary. Magic is suppos'd to have been first practis'd in Ægypt, and to have spread afterwards among the Chaldeans: It is very evident that Homer had been in Ægypt, where he might hear an account of the wonders perform'd by it. Dacier is of opinion, that these deluders, or Magicians, were mimics of the real miracles of Moses, and that they are described with a wand, in imitation of that great Prophet.

But if any person thinks that Magic is mere fable, and never had any existence, yet establish'd fame and common opinion justify a Poet for using it. What has been more ridicul'd than the winds being inclosed in a bag by Æolus, and committed to Ulysses? but as absurd as this appears, more countries than Lapland pretend to the power of selling a storm or a fair wind at this day, as is notorious from travellers of credit: and perhaps a Poet would not even in these ages be thought ridiculous, if speaking of Lapland, he should introduce one of these Venefica's, and describe the ceremonies she used in the performance of her pretended incantations. Milton not unhappily has introduc'd the imagin'd power of these Lapland Witches into his Paradise Lost.

In short, Virgil has imitated Homer in all these bold Episodes, and Horace calls them the Miracles of the Odyssey.

Longinus here reports a Criticism of Zoilus; he is very pleasant upon this transformation of the companions of Ulysses, and calls them, the squeaking pigs of Homer: we may gather from this instance the nature of his Criticisms, and conjecture that they tended to turn the finest incidents of Homer into ridicule. Burlesque was his talent, and instead of informing the reason by pointing out the errors of the Poem, his only aim was to make his Readers laugh; but he drew upon himself the indignation of all the learned world: he was known by the name of the vile Thracian slave, and liv'd in great want and poverty; and posterity prosecutes his memory with the same animosity. The man was really very learned, as Dionysius Halicarn. informs us: His morals were never reproach'd, and yet, as Vitruvius relates, he was crucify'd by Ptolemy, or as others write, ston'd to death, or burnt alive at Smyrna; so that his only crime was his defamation of Homer: a tragical instance of the great value which was set upon his Poetry by antiquity, and of the danger of attacking a celebrated Author with malice and envy.

We have here a very lively picture of a person in a great fright, which was admir'd, observes Eustathius, by the Ancients: There is not only a remarkable harmony in the flowing of the Poetry, but the very manner of speaking represents the disorder of the speaker; he is in too great an emotion to introduce his speech by any Preface, he breaks at once into it, without preparation, as if he could not soon enough deliver his thoughts. Longinus quotes these lines as an instance of the great judgment of Homer: there is nothing, says that Critic, which gives more life to a discourse, than the taking away the connections and conjunctions; when the discourse is not bound together and embarrass'd, it walks and slides along of it self, and will want very little oftentimes of going faster even than the thought of the Orator: Thus in Xenophon, Joining their bucklers, they gave back, they fought, they slew, they dy'd together; of the same nature is that of Eurylochus,

These periods thus cut off, and yet pronounc'd with precipitation, are signs of a lively sorrow; which at the same time hinders, yet forces him to speak.

Many such hidden transitions are to be found in Virgil, of equal beauty with this of Homer:

Here the Poet shews the earnestness of the speaker who is in so much haste to speak, that his thoughts run to the end of the sentence almost before his tongue can begin it. Thus Achæmenides in his flight from the Cyclops,

Here the Poet makes no connection with the preceding discourse, but leaves out the inquit, to express the precipitation and terror of Achæmenides.

But our countryman Spenser has equall'd if not surpass'd these great Poets of Antiquity, in painting a figure of Terror in the ninth Canto of the Fairy Queen, where Sir Trevisan flies from Despair.

The description sets the figure full before our eyes, he speaks short, and in broken and interrupted periods, which excellently represent, and in broken and interrupted periods, which excellently represent the agony of his thoughts; and when he is a little more confirm'd and embolden'd, he proceeds,

We see he breaks out into interrogations, which, as Longinus observes, give great motion, strength, and action to discourse. If the Poet had proceeded simply, the expression had not been equal to the occasion; but by these short questions, he gives strength to it, and shews the disorder of the speaker, by the sudden starts and vehemence of the periods. The whole Canto of Despair is a piece of inimitable Poetry; the picture of Sir Trevisan has a general resemblance to this of Eurylochus, and seems to have been copy'd after it, as will appear upon comparison.

The character of Eurylochus, who had married Climene the sister of Ulysses, is the character of a brave man, who being witness to the dreadful fate of his companions is diffident of himself, and judges that the only way to conquer the danger is to fly from it. To fear upon such an occasion, observes Dacier, is not Cowardice, but Wisdom. But what is more remarkable in this description, is the art of Homer in inserting the character of a brave man under so great a consternation, to set off the character of Ulysses, who knows how at once to be bold and wise; for the more terrible and desperate the adventure is represented by Eurylochus, the greater appears the intrepidity of Ulysses, who trusting to his own wisdom, and the assistance of the Gods, has the courage to attempt it. What adds to the merit of the action is, that he undertakes it solely for his companions, as Horace describes him:

This expression is used sarcastically by Ulysses, and in derision of his fears. Dacier remarks, that Ulysses having not seen what is related by Eurylochus, believes his refusal to return, proceeds from his faint-heartedness: An instance, adds she, that we frequently form wrong judgments of mens actions, when we are ignorant of the motives of them. I confess I am of opinion, that there is some degree of cowardice in the character of Eurylochus: A man truly brave would not express such confusion and terror in any extremity; he is not to be inspirited either by Ulysses, or the example of his other companions, as appears from the sequel, insomuch that Ulysses threatens to kill him for a coward; this prevails over his first fears, and he submits to meet a future danger, merely to avoid one that is present. What makes this observation more just is, that we never see a brave man drawn by Homer or Virgil in such faint colours; but they always discover a presence of mind upon all emergencies.

This whole passage is to be understood allegorically. Mercury is Reason, he being the God of Science: The plant which he gives as a preservative against incantation is instruction; the root of it is black, the flower white and sweet; the root denotes that the foundation or principles of instruction appear obscure and bitter, and are distasteful at first, according to that saying of Plato, The beginnings ef instruction are always accompanied with reluctance and pain. The flower of Moly is white and sweet; this denotes that the fruits of instruction are sweet, agreeable, and nourishing. Mercury gives this plant; this intimates, that all instruction is the gift of Heaven: Mercury brings it not with him, but gathers it from the place where he stands, to shew that Wisdom is not confin'd to places, but that every where it may be found, if Heaven vouchsafes to discover it, and we are disposed to receive and follow it. Thus Isocrates understands the Allegory of Moly; he adds, Πικραν ειναι ριζαν αυτης το δε Μωλυος ανθος, λευκον κατα γαλα δια την του τελους παιδειας λαμπροτητα, ηδη και το ηδυ και τροφιμον. The root of Moly is bitter, but the flower of it white as milk, to denote the excellency of instruction, as well as the pleasure and utility of it in the end. He further illustrates the Allegory, by adding Καρπους της παιδειας ει και μη γαλακτι ικελους αλλα γλυκεις, &c. That is, “the fruits of instruction are not only white as milk, but sweet though they spring from a bitter root.

Maximus Tyrius also gives this story an allegorical sense, Dissert. 16. Αυτον μην τον Οδυσσεα ουχ ορας, ως παντοιαις συμφοραις αντιτεχνωμενος αρετη σωζει, τουτο αυτω το εκ Κιρκης Μωλυ, τουτο το εν θαλαττη κρηδεμνον; that is, “Dost thou not observe Ulysses, how by opposing virtue to adversity he preserves his life? This is the Scarf that protects him from Circe, this is the Scarf that delivers him from the storm, from Polypheme, from Hell, &c.

It is pretended that Moly is an Ægyptian plant, and that it was really made use of as a preservative against Enchantments: but I believe the Moly of Mercury, and the Nepenthe of Helen, are of the same production, and grow only in Poetical ground.

Ovid has translated this passage in his Metamorphosis, lib. 14.

There is a remarkable sweetness in the verse which describes the appearance of Mercury in the shape of a young man;

Virgil was sensible of the beauty of it, and imitated it.

But in the opinion of Macrobius, he falls short of Homer, lib. 5. Saturn 13. Prætermissâ gratiâ incipientis pubertatis του περ χαριεστατη Minus gratam fecit latinam descriptionem.

It may be ask'd if Ulysses is not as culpable as his companions, in drinking this potion? Where lies the difference? and how is the Allegory carried on, when Ulysses yields to the solicitation of Circe, that is Pleasure, and indulges, not resists his appetites? The moral of the fable is, that all pleasure is not unlawful, but the access of it: We may enjoy, provided it be with moderation. Ulysses does not taste till he is fortify'd against it; whereas his companions yielded without any care or circumspection; they indulged their appetites only, Ulysses tastes merely out of a desire to deliver his associates: he makes himself master of Circe, or Pleasure, and is not in the power of it, and enjoys it upon his own terms; they are slaves to it, and out of a capacity ever to regain their freedom but by the assistance of Ulysses. The general moral of the whole fable of Circe is, that pleasure is as dreadful an enemy as Danger, and a Circe as hard to be conquer'd as a Polypheme.

Eustathius observes, that we have here the picture of a man truly wise, who when Pleasure courts him to indulge his appetites, not only knows how to abstain, but suspects it to be a bait to draw him into some inconveniencies: A man should never think himself in security in the house of a Circe. It may be added, that these apprehensions of Ulysses are not without a foundation; from this intercourse with that Goddess, Telegonus sprung, who accidentally slew his father Ulysses.

This large description of the entertainment in the Palace of Circe is particularly judicious; Ulysses is in an house of pleasure, and the Poet dwells upon it, and shews how every circumstance contributes to promote and advance it. The attendants are all Nymphs, and the bath and perfumes usher in the feast and wines. The four verses that follow, are omitted by Dacier, and they are mark'd in Eustathius as superfluous; they are to be found in other parts of the Odyssey; but that, I confess, would be no argument why they should not stand here, (such repetitions being frequent in Homer) if they had a due propriety, but they contain a tautology; we see before a table spread for the entertainment of Ulysses, why then should that circumstance be repeated? If they are omitted, there will no chasm or incoherence appear, and therefore probably they were not originally inserted here by Homer.

Homer excellently carries on his allegory; he intends by this expression of the enlargement of the beauty of Ulysses's companions, to teach that men who turn from an evil course, into the paths of Virtue, excel even themselves; having learn'd the value of Virtue from the miseries they suffer'd in pursuit of Vice, they become new men, and as it were enjoy a second life. Eustathius.

If this simile were to be render'd literally it would run thus; “as calves seeing the droves of cows returning at night when they are fill'd with their pasturage, run skipping out to meet them; the stalls no longer detain them, but running round their dams they fill the plain with their lowings, &c.” If a similitude of this nature were to be introduced into modern Poetry, I am of opinion it would fall under ridicule for a want of delicacy: but in reality, images drawn from Nature, and a rural life, have always a very good effect; in particular, this before us enlivens a melancholy description of sorrows, and so exactly expresses in every point the joy of Ulysses's companions, we see them in the very description. To judge rightly of comparison, we are not to examine if the subject from whence they are deriv'd be great or little, noble or familiar, but we are principally to consider if the image produc'd be clear and lively, if the Poet have skill to dignifie it by Poetical words, and if it perfectly paints the thing it is intended to represent. This rule fully vindicates Homer, tho' he frequently paints low life, yet he never uses terms which are not noble; or if he uses humble words or phrases, it is with so much art, that, as Dionysius observes, they become noble and harmonious: In short, a Top may be used with propriety and elegance in a similitude by a Virgil, and the Sun may be dishonour'd by a Mævius; a mean thought express'd in noble terms being more tolerable, than a noble thought disgrac'd by mean expressions. Things that have an intrinsic greatness need only to be barely represented to fill the soul with admiration, but it shews the skill of a Poet to raise a low subject, and exalt common appearances into dignity.

The Poet paints Eurylochus uniformly, under great disorder of mind and terrible apprehensions: There is no similitude between Circe and Cyclops, with respect to the usage of the companions of Ulysses; but Homer puts these expressions into his mouth, to represent the nature of Terror, which confounds the thoughts, and consequently distracts the language of a person who is possessed by it. The character therefore of Eurylochus is the imitation of a person confounded with fears, speaking irrrationally and incoherently. Eustathius.

There should in all the Episodes of Epic Poetry appear a Convenience, if not a necessity of every incident; it may therefore be ask'd what Necessity there is for this descent of Ulysses into hell, to consult the shade of Tiresias? Could not Circe, who was a Goddess, discover to him all the future contingencies of his life? Eustathius excellently answers this objection; Circe declares to Ulysses the necessity of consulting Tiresias, that he may learn from the mouth of that Prophet, that his death was to be from the Ocean; she acts thus in order to dispose him to stay with her, after his return from the regions of the dead: or if she cannot persuade him to stay with her, that she may at least secure him from returning to her rival Calypso; she had promised him Immortality, but by this descent, he will learn that it is decreed that he should receive his death from the Ocean; for he died by the bone of a seafish call'd Xiphias. Her love for Ulysses induces her not to make the discovery her self, for it was evident she would not find credit, but Ulysses would impute it to her love, and the desire she had to deter him from leaving her Island. This will appear more probable, if we observe the conduct of Circe in the future parts of the Odyssey: she relates to him the dangers of Scylla and Charybdis, of the Oxen of Phœbus, and the Sirens; but says nothing concerning his death: This likewise gives an air of probability to the relation. The Isle of Circe was adjoining to Scylla and Charybdis, &c. and consequently she may be supposed to be acquainted with those places, and give an account of them to Ulysses with exactness, but she leaves the decrees of Heaven and the fate of Ulysses to the narration of the Prophet, it best suiting his character to see into futurity. By the descent of Ulysses into Hell may be signify'd, that a wise man ought to be ignorant of nothing, that he ought to ascend in thought into Heaven, and understand the heavenly appearances, and be acquainted with what is contained in the bowels of the earth, and bring to light the secrets of Nature: that he ought to know the nature of the Soul, what it suffers, and how it acts after it is separated from the body. Eustathius.

Homer here gives the reason why Tiresias should be consulted, rather than any other ghost, because

This expression is fully explain'd, and the notion of the soul after death, which prevail'd among the Antients, is set in a clear light, Verse 92, and 122, of the 23d book of the Iliads, to which passages I refer the Readers. But whence had Tiresias this privilege above the rest of the dead? Callimachus ascribes it to Minerva,

Tully mentions this preheminence of Tiresias in his first book of Divination. Perhaps the whole fiction may arise from his great reputation among the Antients for Prophecy; and in honour to his memory they might imagine that his soul after death retain'd the same superiority. Ovid in his Metamorphoses gives us a very jocular reason, for the blindness and prophetic knowledge of Tiresias, from a matrimonial contest between Jupiter and Juno. Cato Major, as Plutarch in his Political Precepts informs us, apply'd this verse to Scipio, when he was made Consul contrary to the Roman Statutes.

But I ought not to suppress what Diodorus Siculus relates concerning Tiresias. Biblioth. lib. 4. he tells us, that he had a daughter nam'd Daphne, a Priestess at Delphi. Παρ' ης φασι και τον ποιητην Ομηρον πολλα των επων σφετρισαμενον, κοσμησαι την ιδιαν ποιησιν. That is, “From whom it is said, that the Poet Homer received many (of the Sibyls) verses, and adorn'd his own Poetry with them.” If this be true, there lay a debt of gratitude upon Homer, and he pays it honourably, by this distinguishing character, which he gives to the father. An instance of a worthy disposition in the Poet, and it remains at once an honour to Tiresias, and a monument of his own gratitude.

This descent of Ulysses into Hell has a very happy effect, it gives Homer an opportunity to embellish his Poetry with an admirable variety, and to insert Fables and Histories that at once instruct and delight. It is particularly happy with respect to the Phæacians, who could not but highly admire a person whose wisdom had not only deliver'd him from so many perils on earth, but had been permitted by the Gods to see the regions of the dead, and return among the living: this relation could not fail of pleasing an audience, delighted with strange stories, and extraordinary adventures.

This whole scene is excellently imagin'd by the Poet, as Eustathius observes; the trees are all barren, the place is upon the shores where nothing grows; and all the rivers are of a melancholy signification, suitable to the ideas we have of those infernal regions. Ulysses arrives at this place, where he calls up the shades of the dead, in the space of one day; from whence we may conjecture, that he means a place that lies between Cumæ and Baiæ, near the lake Avernus, in Italy; which, as Strabo remarks, is the scene of the Necromancy of Homer, according to the opinion of Antiquity. He further adds, that there really are such rivers as Homer mentions, tho' not placed in their true situation, according to the liberty allowable to Poetry. Others write, that the Cimmerii once inhabited Italy, and that the famous cave of Pausilipe was begun by them about the time of the Trojan wars: Here they offered sacrifice to the Manes, which might give occasion to Homer's fiction. The Grecians, who inhabited these places after the Cimmerians, converted these dark habitations into stoves, bathes, &c.

Silius Italicus writes, that the Lucrine lake was antiently call'd Cocytus, lib. 12.

It is also probable, that Acheron was the antient name of Avernus, because Acherusia, a large water near Cumæ, flows into it by conceal'd passages. Silius Italicus informs us, that Avernus was also called Styx.

Here Hannibal offer'd sacrifice to the Manes, as it is recorded by Livy; and Tully affirms it from an antient Poet, from whom he quotes the following fragment;

This may seem to justifie the observation that Acheron was once the name of Avernus, tho' the words are capable of a different interpretation.

If these remarks be true, it is probable that Homer does not neglect Geography, as most Commentators judge. Virgil describes Æneas descending into Hell by Avernus, after the example of Homer. Milton places these rivers in Hell, and beautifully describes their natures, in his Paradise Lost.

Thus also agreeably to the idea of Hell the offerings to the infernal powers are all black, the Cimmerians lie in a land of darkness; the Heifer which Ulysses is to offer is barren, like that in Virgil.

to denote that the grave is unfruitful, that it devours all things, that it is a place where all things are forgotten.

Homer dismisses not the description of this house of Pleasure and Debauch, without shewing the Moral of his Fable, which is the ill consequences that attend those who indulge themselves in sensuality; this is set forth in the punishment of Elpenor. He describes him as a person of no worth, to shew that debauchery enervates our faculties, and renders both the mind and body incapable of thinking, or acting with greatness and bravery. At the same time these circumstantial relations are not without a good effect; for they render the story probable, as if it were spoken with the veracity of an History, not the liberty of Poetry.

I will conclude this book with a Paragraph from Plutarch's Morals: It is a piece of advice to the Fair Sex, drawn from this story of Circe and Ulysses. “They who bait their hooks (says this Philosopher) with intoxicated drugs may catch fish with little trouble; but then they prove dangerous to eat, and unpleasant to the taste: Thus women who use arts to ensnare their admirers, become wives of fools and madmen: They whom the sorceress Circe enchanted, were no better than brutes; and she used them accordingly, enclosing them with styes; but she lov'd Ulysses entirely, whose prudence avoided her intoxications, and made his conversation agreeable. Those women who will not believe that Pasiphae was ever enamour'd of a bull, are yet themselves so extravagant, as to abandon the society of men of sense and temperance, and to betake themselves to the embraces of brutal and stupid fellows.”

The Antients call'd this book Νεκυομαντεια, or Νεκυα, the book of Necromancy: because (says Eustathius) it contains an interview between Ulysses, and the shades of the dead.

Virgil has not only borrow'd the general design from Homer, but imitated many particular incidents: L' Abbé Fraguier in the Memoirs of Literature gives his judgment in favour of the Roman Poet, and justly observes, that the end and design of the journey is more important in Virgil than in Homer. Ulysses descends to consult Tiresias, Æneas his father. Ulysses takes a review of the shades of celebrated persons that preceded his times, or whom he knew at Troy, who have no relation to the story of the Odyssey: Æneas receives the History of his own Posterity; his father instructs him how to manage the Italian war, and how to conclude it with honour; that is, to lay the foundations of the greatest Empire in the world: and the Poet by a very happy address takes an opportunity to pay a noble compliment to his Patron Augustus. In the Æneid there is a magnificent description of the descent and entrance into Hell; and the diseases, cares, and terrors that Æneas sees in his journey, are very happily imagin'd, as an introduction into the regions of Death: whereas in Homer there is nothing so noble, we scarce are able to discover the place where the Poet lays his scene, or whether Ulysses continues below or above the ground. Instead of a descent into hell, it seems rather a conjuring up, or an evocation of the dead from hell; according to the words of Horace, who undoubtedly had this passage of Homer in his thoughts.

But if it be understood of an evocation only, how shall we account for several visions and descriptions in the conclusion of this book? Ulysses sees Tantalus in the waters of hell, and Sisyphus rowling a stone up an infernal mountain; these Ulysses could not conjure up, and consequently must be supposed to have enter'd at least the borders of those infernal regions. In short, Fraguier is of opinion, that Virgil profited more by the Frogs of Aristophanes than by Homer; and Mr. Dryden prefers the sixth book of the Æneid to the eleventh of the Odyssey, I think with very great reason.

I will take this opportunity briefly to mention the original of all these fictions of infernal Rivers, Judges, &c. spoken of by Homer, and repeated and enlarged by Virgil. They are of Ægyptian extract, as Mr. Sandys (that faithful traveller, and judicious Poet) observes, speaking of the Mummies of Memphis, p. 134.

“These ceremonies perform'd, they laid the corps in a boat to be wafted over Acherusia, a lake on the south of Memphis, by one only person, whom they call'd Charon; which gave Orpheus the invention of his infernal ferriman; an ill-favour'd slovenly fellow, as Virgil describes him, Æneid 6. About this lake stood the shady temple of Hecate, with the ports of Cocytus and Oblivion, separated by bars of brass, the original of like fables. When landed on the other side, the bodies were brought before certain Judges; if convinc'd of an evil life, they were depriv'd of burial; if otherwise they suffer'd them to be interr'd.” This explication shews the foundation of those antient fables of Charon, Rhadamanthus, & c. And also that the Poets had a regard to truth in their inventions, and grounded even their fables upon some remarkable customs, which grew obscure and absurd only because the memory of the customs to which they allude is lost to posterity.

I will only add from Dacier, that this book is an evidence of the antiquity of the opinion of the Soul's Immortality. It is upon this that the most antient of all divinations was founded, I mean that which was performed by the evocation of the dead. There is a very remarkable instance of this in the holy Scriptures, in an age not very distant from that of Homer. Saul consults one of these infernal agents to call up Samuel, who appears, or some evil spirit in his form, and predicts his impending death and calamities. This is a pregnant instance of the antiquity of Necromancy, and that it was not of Homer's invention; it prevail'd long before his days among the Chaldeans, and spread over all the oriental world. Æschylus has a Tragedy intitled Persæ, in which the shade of Davius is call'd up, like that of Samuel, and fortells Queen Atossa all her misfortunes. Thus it appears that there was a foundation for what Homer writes; he only embellishes the opinions of Antiquity with the ornaments of Poetry.

I must confess that Homer gives a miserable account of a future state; there is not a person describ'd in happiness, unless perhaps it be Tiresias: the good and the bad seem all in the same condition: Whereas Virgil has an Hell for the wicked, and an Elysium for the just. Tho' perhaps it may be a vindication of Homer to say, that the notions of Virgil of a future state were different from these of Homer; according to whom Hell might only be a receptacle for the vehicles of the dead, and that while they were in Hell, their φρην or Spirit might be in Heaven, as appears from what is said of the ειδωλον of Hercules in this 11th book of the Odyssey.

It is the opinion of many Commentators, that Homer constantly in these voyages of Ulysses makes use of a fabulous Geography; but perhaps the contrary opinion in many places may be true: In this passage, Ulysses in the space of one day sails from the Island of Circe to the Cimmerians: Now it is very evident from Herodotus and Strabo, that they inhabited the regions near the Bosphorus, and consequently Ulysses could not sail thither in the compass of a day; and therefore, says Strabo, the Poet removes not only the Cimmerians, but their climate and darkness, from the northern Bosphorus into Campania in Italy.

But that there really were a people in Italy named Cimmerians is evident from the testimony of many Authors. So Lycophron plainly understands this passage, and relates these adventures as performed in Italy. He recapitulates all the voyages of Ulysses, and mentioning the descent into Hell and the Cimmerians, he immediately describes the infernal rivers, and adds, (speaking of the Apennine)

That is, “From whence all the rivers, and all the fountains flow thro' the regions of Italy.” And these lines of Tibullus,

are understood by all interpreters to denote the Italian Cimmerians: who dwelt near Baiæ and the lake Avernus; and therefore Homer may be imagin'd not entirely to follow a fabulous Geography. It is evident from Herodotus that these Cimmerians were antiently a powerful nation; for passing into Asia (says that Author in his Clio) they possess'd themselves of Sardis, in the time of Ardyes, the son of Gyges. If so, it is possible they might make several settlements in different parts of the world, and call those settlements by their original name, Cimmerians, and consequently there might be Italian, as well as Scythian Cimmerians.

It must be allow'd, that this horrid region is well chosen for the descent into Hell: It is describ'd as a land of obscurity and horrors, and happily imagin'd to introduce a relation concerning the realms of death and darkness.

The word in the original is, μελικρατον, which (as Eustathius observes) the Antients constantly understood to imply a mixture of honey and milk; but all writers who succeeded Homer as constantly used it to signify a composition of water mix'd with honey. The Latin Poets have borrow'd their magical rites from Homer: Thus Ovid Metam, 7. 243.

Thus also Statius:

This libation is made to all the departed shades; but to what purpose (objects Eustathius) should these rites be paid to the dead, when it is evident from the subsequent relation that they were ignorant of these ceremonies 'till they had tasted the libation? He answers from the Antients, that they were merely honorary to the regents of the dead, Pluto and Proserpina; and used to obtain their leave to have an interview with the shades in their dominions.

We are inform'd by Eustathius, that the Antients rejected these six verses; for say they, these are not the shades of persons newly slain, but who have long been in these infernal regions: How then can their wounds be suppos'd still to be visible, especially through their armour, when the soul was separated from the body? Neither is this the proper place for their appearance, for the Poet immediately subjoins, that the ghost of Elpenor was the first that he encounter'd in these regions of darkness. But these objections will be easily answer'd by having recourse to the notions which the Antients entertained concerning the dead: we must remember that they imagin'd that the soul tho' freed from the body had still a vehicle, exactly resembling the body; as the figure in a mold retains the resemblance of the mold, when separated from it; the body is but as a case to this vehicle, and it is in this vehicle that the wounds are said to be visible; this was supposed to be less gross than the mortal body, and less subtile than the Soul; so that whatever wounds the outward body receiv'd when living, were believ'd to affect this inward Substance, and consequently might be visible after separation.

It is true that the Poet calls the ghost of Elpenor the first ghost, but this means the first whom he knew: Elpenor was not yet buried, and therefore was not yet received into the habitation of the dead, but wanders before the entrance of it. This is the reason why his shade is said to present it self the foremost; it comes not up from the realm of death, but descends towards it from the upper world.

But these shades of the warriors are said still to wear their armour in which they were slain, for the Poet adds that it was stain'd with blood: How is it possible for these ghosts, which are only a subtle substance, not a gross body, to wear the armour they wore in the other world? How was it convey'd to them in these infernal regions? All that occurs to me in answer to this objection is, that the Poet describes them suitably to the characters they bore in life; the warriors on earth are warriors in Hell; and that he adds these circumstances only to denote the manner of their death, which was in battle, or by the sword. No doubt but Homer represents a future state according to the notions which his age entertain'd of it, and this sufficiently justifies him as a Poet, who is not obliged to write truths, but according to fame and common opinions.

But to prove these verses genuine, we have the authority of Virgil: he was too sensible of their beauty not to adorn his Poems with them.

It must be confessed that this Roman Poet omits the circumstance of the armour in his translation, as being perhaps contrary to the opinions prevailing in his age; but in the sixth book he describes his Heroes with arms, horses, and infernal chariots; and in the story of Deiphobus we see his shade retain the wounds in Hell, which he received at the time of his death in Troy.

Eustathius is of opinion, that Ulysses speaks pleasantly to Elpenor, for were his words to be literally translated they would be, Elpenor, thou art come hither on foot, sooner than I in a ship. I suppose it is the worthless character of Elpenor that led that Critic into this opinion; but I should rather take the sentence to be spoken seriously, not only because such railleries are an insult upon the unfortunate, and levities perhaps unworthy of Epic Poetry, but also from the general conduct of Ulysses, who at the sight of Elpenor bursts into tears, and compassionates the fate of his friend. Is there any thing in this that looks like raillery? if there be, we must confess that Ulysses makes a very quick transition from sorrow to pleasantry. The other is a more noble sense, and therefore I have follow'd it, and it excellently paints the surprize of Ulysses at the unexpected sight of Elpenor, and expresses his wonder that the Soul, the moment it leaves the body, should reach the receptacle of departed shades.

But it may be ask'd what connection this story of Elpenor has to the subject of the Poem, and what it contributes to the end of it? Bossu very well answers that the Poet may insert some incidents that make no part of the fable or action; especially if they be short, and break not the thread of it: this before us is only a small part of a large Episode, which the Poet was at liberty to insert or omit, as contributed most to the beauty of his Poetry: besides, it contains an excellent moral, and shews us the ill effects of drunkenness and debauchery. The Poet represents Elpenor as a person of a mean character, and punishes his crime with sudden death, and dishonour.

I will only add that Virgil treads in the footsteps of Homer, and Misenus in the Æneid, is the Elpenor of the Odyssey: There is indeed some difference; Misenus suffers for his presumption, Elpenor for his debauchery.

The words in the original are, Ασε με Δαιμονος αισα. The identity of sound in ασε and αισα may perhaps appear a little inharmonious, and shock the ear. It is a known observation that the nice ears in the Court of Augustus could not pardon Virgil for a like similitude of cadence in this verse.

But these are rather negligences than errors; they are indeed to be avoided, but a great genius sometimes overlooks such niceties, and sacrifices sound to sense.

The words of Quintilian are very apposite to this purpose, lib. 8. cap. 3. Ejusdem verbi aut sermonis iteratio, quanquam non magnopere summis authoribus vitata, interim vitium videri potest; in quod sæpe incidit etiam Cicero, securus tam parvæ observationis. He brings an instance of it from his oration for Cluentius, Non solum igitur illud judicium, judicii simile, indices, non fuit. It must be confess'd, that the sense is not only darken'd, but the ear shock'd at the repetition of the same word in the same period.

This is a very pregnant instance, that the opinion of an evil Dæmon or Genius prevail'd in the days of Homer: but this excuse of Elpenor, in ascribing his calamity to a Dæmon, gives great offence to Maximus Tyrius, he being a Stoic Philosopher. He says Elpenor is guilty of falshood in this excuse to Ulysses; for Dæmons, parcæ, &c. are nothing but the idle pretext of wicked men, who are industrious to transfer their own follies to the Gods, according to those Verses in the beginning of the Odyssey.

The behaviour of Ulysses with respect to his mother may appear not sufficiently tender and affectionate; he refrains all manner of address to her, a conduct which may be censur'd as inconsistent with filial piety; but Plutarch very fully answers this objection. “It is (says that Author) a remarkable instance of the prudence of Ulysses, who descending into the regions of the dead, refused all conference even with his mother, 'till he had obtain'd an answer from Tiresias, concerning the business which induc'd him to undertake that infernal journey.” A wise man is not inquisitive about things impertinent; accordingly Ulysses first shews himself a wise man, and then a dutiful son. Besides, it is very judicious in Homer thus to describe Ulysses: the whole design of the Odyssey is the return of Ulysses to his Country; this is the mark at which the Heroe should continually aim, and therefore it is necessary that all other incidents should be subordinate to this; and the Poet had been blameable if he had shew'd Ulysses entertaining himself with amusements, and postponing the considerations of the chief design of the Odyssey. Lucian speaks to the same purpose in his piece upon Astrology.

The terror which the shades of the departed express at the sight of the sword of Ulysses has been frequently censur'd as absurd and ridiculous: Risum cui non moveat, says Scaliger, cum ensem ait & vulnera metuisse? What have the dead to fear from a sword, who are beyond the power of it, by being reduc'd to an incorporeal shadow? But this description is consistent with the notions of the Antients concerning the dead. I have already remark'd, that the shades retain'd a vehicle, which resembled the body, and was liable to pain as well as the corporeal substance; if not, to what purpose are the Furies describ'd with iron scourges, or the Vultur tearing the liver of Tityus?

Virgil ascribes the like fears to the shades in the Æneas; for the Sibyl thus commands Æneas,

And the shades of the Greeks are there said to fly at the sight of his arms.

Tiresias is here describ'd consistently with the character before given him by the Poet, I mean with a preheminence above the other shades; for (as Eustathius observes, he knows Ulysses before he tastes the ingredients; a privilege not claim'd by any other of the infernal inhabitants. Elpenor indeed did the same, but for another reason: because he was not yet buried, nor enter'd the regions of the dead, and therefore his Soul was yet intire.

The Poet conducts this interview with admirable judgment. The whole design of Ulysses is to engage the Phæacians in his favour, in order to his transportation to his own country: How does he bring this about? By shewing that it was decreed by the Gods that he should be conducted thither by strangers; so that the Phæacians immediately conclude, that they are the people destin'd by Heaven to conduct him home; to give this the greater weight, he puts the speech into the mouth of the Prophet Tiresias, and exalts his character in an extraordinary manner, to strengthen the credit of the prediction: By this method likewise the Poet interweaves his Episode into the texture and essence of the Poem, he makes this journey into Hell contribute to the restoration of his Heroe, and unites the subordinate parts very happily with the main action.

It is certain that Tiresias speaks very obscurely, after the manner of the Oracles; but the Antients generally understood this people to be the Epirots. Thus Pausanias in his Attics. Οι μηδε αλουσης ιλιου θαλασσαν, μηδε αλσιν ηπισταντο χρησθαι, μαρτυρει δε μοι και Ομηρου επος εν οδυσσεια.

That is; “The Epirots even so lately as after the taking of Troy, were ignorant of the sea, and the use of salt, as Homer testifies in his Odyssey:

So that they who were ignorant of the sea, were likewise ignorant of the use of salt, according to Homer: whence it may be conjectur'd, that the Poet knew of no salt but what was made of sea-water. The other token of their ignorance of the sea was, that they should not know an Oar, but call it a Corn-van. This verse was once sarcastically apply'd to Philip of Macedon, by Amerdion a Grecian, who flying from him and being apprehended, was ask'd whither he fled? he bravely answer'd, to find a people who knew not Philip.

I persuade my self that this passage is rightly translated: Νεας φοινικοπαρηους, and τα τε πτερα νευσι πελονται.

for the wings of the ship signify the sails, [as Eustathius remarks) and not the oars, as we might be misled to conclude from the immediate connection with ερετμα, or oars. The Poet, I believe, intended to express the wonder of a person upon his first sight of a ship, who observing it to move swiftly along the seas, might mistake the sails for wings, according to that beautiful description of Mr. Dryden upon a like occasion in his Indian Emperor.

Eustathius tells us the reason of this command given to Ulysses, to search out a people ignorant of the sea: It was in honour of Neptune, to make his name regarded by a nation which was entirely a stranger to that Deity; and this injunction was laid by way of atonement for the violence offer'd to his son Polyphemus.

Many Critics have imagin'd that this passage is corrupted; but, as Eustathius observes, we have the Authority of Sophocles to prove it genuine, who alluding to this passage, writes,

The Death of Ulysses is related variously, but the following account is chiefly credited: Ulysses had a son by Circe named Telegonus, who being grown to years of maturity, sail'd to Ithaca in search of his father; where seizing some sheep for the use of his attendants, the shepherds put themselves into a posture to rescue them; Ulysses being advertis'd of it, went with his son Telemachus to repel Telegonus, who in defending himself wounded Ulysses, not knowing him to be his father. Thus Oppian, Hyginus, and Dictys relate the story. Many Poets have brought this upon the stage, and Aristotle criticizing upon one of these Tragedies gives us the title of it, which was, Ulysses wounded. But if Ulysses thus dy'd, how can Neptune be said to point the shaft with death? We are inform'd that the spear with which Telegonus gave the wound, was pointed with the bone of a sea Turtle; so that literally his death came from the sea, or εξ αλος: and Neptune being the God of the Ocean, his death may without violence be ascrib'd to that Deity. It is true, some Critics read εξαλος, as one word, and then it will signify that Ulysses should escape the dangers of the sea, and die upon the continent far from it; but the former sense is most consonant to the tenor of the Poem, thro' which Neptune is constantly represented as an enemy to Ulysses.

I will only add the reason why Ulysses is enjoyn'd to offer a Bull, a Ram, and a Boar to Neptune: the Bull represents the roaring of the sea in storms; the Ram the milder appearance of it when in tranquility: the Boar was used by the Antients as an emblem of fecundity, to represent the fruitfulness of the Ocean. This particular sacrifice of three animals was call'd τριττυα.

If this passage were literally translated, it would run thus: My son, how didst thou arrive at this place of darkness, when so many rivers, and the Ocean lie in the midway? This (says Eustathius) plainly shews that Homer uses a fabulous Geography; for whereas the places that are mention'd in these voyages of Ulysses are really situated upon the Mediterranean, Anticlea here says that they lie in the middle of the Ocean. But this is undoubtedly an error: The whole of the observation depends upon the word μεσσω; But why must this denote the midway so exactly? Is it not sufficient to say, that between Ithaca and this infernal region, rivers and the Ocean roul? And that this is the real meaning is evident from this book, for Ulysses sails in the space of one day from the Island of Circe to the place where he descends: How then could these places where Ulysses touches in his voyage lie in the middle of the Ocean, unless we can suppose he pass'd half the Ocean in one day? The Poet directly affirms, that he descends at the extremity of it; but this extremity is no more than one day's voyage from the Island of Circe, and consequently that Island could not lie in the middle of the Ocean: Therefore this place is no evidence that Homer uses a fabulous Geography.

Eustathius very justly observes, that Homer judiciously places the descent into Hell at the extremity of the Ocean: for it is natural to imagine, that to be the only passage to it, by which the Sun and the Stars themselves appear to descend, and sink into the realms of darkness.

The questions which Ulysses asks (remarks Eustathius) could not fail of having a very good effect upon his Phæacian audience: By them he very artfully (and as it seems undeably) lets them into the knowledge of his dignity, and shews the importance of his person; to induce them to a greater care to conduct him to his country. The process of the whole story is so artfully carried on, that Ulysses seems only to relate an accidental interview, while he tacitly recommends himself, and lets them know the person who asks their assistance is a King. It is observable that Anticlea inverts the order in her answer, and replies last to the first question. Orators always reserve the strongest argument for the conclusion, to leave it fresh upon the memory of their auditors: or rather, the Poet uses this method to introduce the sorrow of Ulysses for the death of his mother more naturally: He steals away the mind of the Reader from attending the main action, to enliven it with a scene of tenderness and affection in these regions of horror.

This passage is fully explain'd by Eustathius: he tells us, that it was an antient custom to invite Kings and Legislators to all public feasts; this was to do them honour: and the chief seat was always reserved for the chief Magistrate. Without this observation, the lines are unintelligible. It is evident that the words are not spoken of sacrifices or feasts made to the Gods, but social entertainments, for they are general, παντες καλεουσι, “all the people of the realm invite Telemachus to their feasts;” And this seems to have been a right due to the chief Magistrate, for αλεγυνειν implies it, which word Eustathius explains by εν λογω ποιεισθαι; “such an honour as ought not to be neglected,” or

It gives a very happy image of these ages of the world, when we observe such an intercourse between the King and the subject: The Idea of power carries no terror in it, but the ruler himself makes a part of the public Joy.

This passage plainly shews that the vehicles of the departed were believ'd by the Antients to be of an aerial substance, and retain nothing of corporeal grossness.

Virgil has borrow'd these verses.

Scaliger gives the preference to the Roman Poet, becauses he uses three verses, at a time when the word ter occurs in the description, whereas Homer concludes in little more than two lines. But this is not criticizing, but trifling; and ascribing to an Author what the Author himself had no thought of. This puts me in mind of a story in Lucian, where a person of a strong imagination thinking there was a mystery in μηνιν, the first word in the Iliad, is introduc'd enquiring of Homer in the regions of the dead, why he plac'd it in the beginning of his Poem? he answers, Because it first came into his head. I doubt not but the number of the lines in this place in both Poets was equally accidental; Virgil adds nothing to the thought of Homer, tho' he uses more words.

This is almost a literal translation; the words in the Greek are, τεταρπωμεσθα γοοιο, or, that we may delight our selves with sorrow, which Eustathius explains by saying, there is a pleasure in weeping: I should rather understand the words to signify, that in the instant while he is rejoicing at the sight of his mother, he is compell'd to turn his joy into tears, to find the whole scene a delusion.

Nothing can better shew the invention of Homer, than his capacity of furnishing out a scene of such great variety in this infernal region: He calls up the Heroes of former ages from a state of inexistence to adorn and diversify his Poetry. If it be ask'd what relation this journey into hell has to the main action of the Odyssey? the answer is, It has an Episodic affinity with it, and shews the sufferings of Ulysses more than any of his voyages upon the Ocean, as it is more horrible and full of terrors. What a treasury of antient History and fables has he opened by this descent? he lets us into a variety of different characters of the most famous personages recorded in antient story; and at the same time lays before us a supplement to the Iliad. If Virgil paid a happy piece of flattery to the Romans, by introducing the greatest persons of the best families in Rome, in his descent in the Æneid; Homer no less happily interests the Grecians in his story, by honouring the Ancestors of the noblest families who still flourish'd in Greece, in the Odyssey; a circumstance that could not fail of being very acceptable to a Grecian or Roman Reader, but perhaps less entertaining to us, who have no particular interest in these stories.

Virgil gives a very different character of Salmoneus from this of Homer: he describes him as an impious person who presum'd to imitate the thunder of Jupiter, whereas Homer stiles him blameless, or αμυμων; an argument, says Eustathius, that the preceding story is a fable invented since the days of Homer. This may perhaps be true, and we may naturally conclude it to be true from his silence of it, but not from the epithet αμυμων; for in the first book of the Odyssey, Jupiter gives the same appellation to Ægysthus, even while he condemns him of murder and adultery. Eustathius adds, that Salmoneus was a great proficient in Mechanics, and inventor of a vessel call'd βροντειον, which imitated thunder by rouling stones in it, which gave occasion to the fictions of the Poets.

There are no fables in the Poets that seem more bold than these concerning the commerce between women, and river Gods; but Eustathius gives us a probable solution: I will translate him literally. It was customary for young Virgins to resort frequently to rivers to bathe in them; and the Antients have very well explain'd these fables about the intercourse between them and the water Gods: Receive my Virginity O Scamander! says a Lady; but it is very apparent who this Scamander was: Her lover Cimon lay conceal'd in the reeds. This was a good excuse for female frailty, in ages of credulity: for such imaginary intercourse between the fair Sex and Deities was not only believ'd, but esteem'd honourable. No doubt the Ladies were frequently deceiv'd; their lovers personated the Deities, and they took a Cimon to their arms in the disguise of a Scamander.

It is uncertain where this Enipeus flows: Strabo (says Eustathius) imagines it to be a river of Peloponnesus, that disembogues its waters into the Alphæus; for the Thessalian river is Eniseus, and not Enipeus: This rises from mount Othrys, and receives into it the Epidanus. The former seems to be the river intended by Homer, for it takes its source from a village call'd Salmone; and what strengthens this conjecture is the neighbourhood of the Ocean (or Neptune in this fable) to that river. Lucian has made this story of Enipeus the subject of one of his Dialogues.

The fable of Thebes built by the power of Music is not mention'd by Homer, and therefore may be supposed to be of later invention. Homer relates many circumstances in these short histories differently from his successors; Epicaste is call'd Jocasta, and the Tragedians have entirely varied the story of Oedipus: They tell us he tore out his eyes, that he was driven from Thebes, and being conducted by his daughter Antigone, arriv'd at Athens, where entring the Temple of the Furies, he dy'd in the midst of a furious storm, and was carried by it into Hell: Whereas Homer directly affirms, that he continued to reign in Thebes after all his calamities.

It is not easy to give a reason why the mother, and not the father, is said to send the Furies to torment Oedipus, especially because he was the murderer of his father Laius: Eustathius answers, that it was by accident that he slew Laius; but upon the discovery of his wickedness in marrying his mother Jocasta, he used her with more barbarity and rigour than was necessary, and therefore she pursues him with her vengeance. Jocasta and Dido both die after the same manner by their own hands: I agree with Scaliger, that Virgil has describ'd hanging more happily than Homer.

There is nothing like the Informis Lethi nodus in Homer: and as that Critic observes, tam atrox res atiquo verborum ambitu studiosius comprehenda fuit. The story of Oedipus is this: Laius being informed by the Oracle, that he should be slain by his son, caus'd Oedipus immediately to be exposed by his shepherds to wild beasts; but the shepherds preserv'd him, and gave him education: When he came to years of maturity he went toward Thebes in search of his father, but meeting Laius by the way, and a quarrel arising, he slew him ignorantly, and married Jocasta his mother; This is the subject of two Tragedies in Sophocles.

A Critic ought not only to endeavour to point out the beauties in the sense, but also in the versification of a Poet: Dionysius Halicarn. cites these two verses as peculiarly flowing and harmonious.

There is not one elision, nor one rough vowel or consonant, but they flow along with the utmost smoothness, and the beauty of the Muse equals that of Chloris.

This is a very considerable city lying between Bœotia and Phocis, upon the river Cephisus: Homer calls it the Minyan Orchomenos, because the Minyans and antient people inhabited it; it was the colony of these Mynyans that sail'd to Iolcos, and gave name to the Argonauts. Eustathius.

The reason why Homer gives this epithet to Periclimenus may be learn'd from Hesiod: Neptune gave him the Power to change himself into all shapes, but he was slain by Hercules: Periclimenus assaulted that Heroe in the shape of a bee, or fly, who discovering him in that disguise, by the means of Pallas slew him with his club. This is the person of whom Ovid speaks, but adds that he was slain in the shape of an eagle by Hercules.

Euphorion speaks of him in the shape of a bee or fly.

This story is related with great obscurity, but we learn from the 15th book that the name of this Prophet was Melampus. Iphyclus was the son of Deioneus, and Uncle to Tyro; he had seized upon the goods of Tyro the mother of Neleus, among which were many beautiful oxen: these Neleus demands, but is unjustly denied by Iphyclus: Neleus had a daughter named Pero, a great beauty who was courted by all the neighbouring Princes, but the father refuses her, unless to the man who recovers these oxen from Iphyclus: Bias was in love with Pero, and persuades his brother Melampus a Prophet to undertake the Recovery; he attempts it, but being vanquished, is thrown into prison; but at last set at liberty, for telling Iphyclus, who was childless, how to procure issue. Iphyclus upon this gave him the oxen for a reward.

Nothing can be more ridiculous than the explanation of this story in Eustathius, which I will lay before the Reader for his entertainment. Melampus, after he was made a prisoner, was trusted to the care of a man and a woman; the man used him with mercy, and the woman with cruelty: One day he heard a low noise, and a family of worms in conference. (He understood the language of all the animal creation, beasts and reptiles) These worms were discoursing how they had eaten thro' a great beam that lay over the head of Melampus: He immediately provides for his own safety, feigns a sickness, and begs to be carried into the fresh air: The woman and the man immediately comply with his request; at which instant the beam falling, kills the woman: An account of this is forthwith carried to Iphyclus, who sending for Melampus, asks who he is? He tells him, a Prophet, and that he came for the Oxen of Neleus; Iphyclus commands him to declare how he may have an heir? Melampus kills an Ox, and calls all the birds of the air to feast on it; they all appear except the Vultur; he proposes the case to them, but they give no satisfactory answer; at last the Vultur appears, and gives Melampus a full information: Upon this Iphyclus obtains a child, and Melampus the Oxen of Neleus.

These words διος δ' ετελειετο βουλη, seems to come in without any connection with the story, and consequently unnecessarily; but Homer speaks of it concisely, as an adventure well known in his times, and therefore not wanting a further explication: But Apollodorus relates the whole at large, lib. 1. The reason why these words are inserted is, to inform us that there were antient Prophecies concerning Iphyclus, that it was decreed by Jupiter he should have no children 'till he had recourse to a Prophet, who explaining these Prophecies to him should shew him how to obtain that blessing: In this sense the will of Jupiter may be said to be fulfill'd.

Castor and Pollux are call'd Διοσκουροι, or the sons of Jupiter; but what could give occasion to this fiction, of their living and dying alternately? Eustathius informs us that it is a physical allegory: They represent the two Hemispheres of the world; the one of which is continually enlighten'd by the sun, and consequently the other is then in darkness: and these being successively illuminated according to the order of the day and night, one of these sons of Jupiter may be said to revive when one part of the world rises into day, and the other to die, when it descends into darkness. What makes this allegory the more probable is, that Jupiter denotes in many allegories of Homer, the air, or the upper regions of it.

This is undoubtedly a very bold fiction, and has been censur'd by some Critics as monstrous, and prais'd by others as sublime. It may seem utterly incredible that any human creatures could be nine ells, that is, eleven yards and a quarter in height, at the age of nine years. But it may vindicate Homer as a Poet to say that he only made use of a fable, that had been transmitted down from the earliest times of the world; for so early the war between the Gods and Giants was suppos'd to be. There might a rational account be given of these apparent incredibilities; if I might be allowed to say what many Authors of great name have conjectur'd, that these stories are only traditional, and all founded upon the ejection of the fallen Angels from Heaven, and the wars they had with the good Angels to regain their stations. If this might be allow'd, we shall then have real Giants, who endeavour'd to take Heaven by assault; then nothing can be invented by a Poet so boldly, as to exceed what may justly be believed of these beings: then the stories of heaping mountain upon mountain will come within the bounds of credibility. But without having recourse to this solution, Longinus brings this passage as an instance of true sublimity, chap. 6. He is proving that the Sublime is sometimes found without the pathetic, for some passions are mean, as fear, sadness, sorrow, and consequently incapable of sublimity; and on the other hand, there are many things great and sublime, in which there is no passion; of this kind is what Homer says concerning Otus, and Ephialtes, with so much boldness.

And what he adds concerning the success of these Giants is still bolder.

Virgil was of the opinion of Longinus, for he has imitated Homer.

Macrobius, lib. 5. Saturn. cap. 13. judges these verses to be inferior to Homer's in Majesty; in Homer we have the height and breadth of these Giants, and he happily paints the very size of their limbs in the run of his Poetry; two words, εννεωροι, and νεαπηχεες, almost make one verse, deably chosen to express their bulk in the turn of the words; but Virgil says only immania corpora, and makes no addition concerning the Giants, omitting entirely the circumstance of their size; Homer relates the piling hill upon hill; Virgil barely adds, that they endeavour'd to storm the heavens.

Scaliger is firm and faithful to Virgil, and vindicates his favourite in the true spirit of criticism; I persuade my self he glances at Macrobius, for he cavils at those instances which he produces as beauties in Homer; I give his answer in his own words. Admirantur Græculi pueriles mensuras; nimis sæpe cogor exclamare, aliud esse Græculum circulatorem, aliud regiæ orationis authorem: Indignam censuit suâ majestate Virgilius hanc minutam superstitionem, &c.

Eustathius remarks that the Antients greatly admir'd the exact proportion of these Giants, for the body is of a due symmetry, when the thickness is three degrees less than the height of it: According to this account, these Giants grew one cubit every year in bulk, and three in height. Homer says, that they fell by the shafts of Apollo, that is, they dy'd suddenly; but other writers relate, that as they were hunting, Diana sent a stag between them, at which both at once aiming their weapons and she withdrawing the stag, they fell by their own darts.

Strabo takes notice of the judgment of Homer, in placing the mountains in this order; they all stand in Macedonia; Olympus is the largest, and therefore he makes it the basis upon which Ossa stands, that being the next to Olympus in magnitude, and Pelion being the least is placed above Ossa, and thus they rise pyramidically. Virgil follows a different regulation,

Here the largest mountain is placed uppermost, not so naturally as in the order of Homer. There is a peculiar beauty in the former of these verses, in which Virgil makes the two vowels in conati imponere meet without an elision, to express the labour and straining of the Giants in heaving mountain upon mountain. I appeal to the ear of every Reader, if he can pronounce these two words without a pause and stop; the difficulty in the flow of the verse excellently represents the labour of the Giants straining to shove Pelion upon Ossa. Dacier remarks that Virgil follows the situation of the mountains, without regarding the magnitude; thus Pelion lies first on the north of Macedonia, Ossa is the second, and the third Olympus; but she prefers Homer's method as most rational.

Homer justifies Theseus from any crime with relation to Ariadne, he is guilty of no infidelity as succeeding Poets affirm; she dy'd suddenly in Dia, or Naxos (an Island lying between Thera and Crete) Diana slew her at the instigation of Bacchus, who accused her to that Goddess, for prophaning her temple by too free an intercourse with Theseus; this Homer calls μαρτυτιη Διονυσου. Clymene was a daughter of Mynias, Mæra of Prœtus and Antæa, who having made a vow to Diana of perpetual virginity, broke it; and therefore fell by that Goddess. Phædra was wife to Theseus, and fell in love with her son Hippolytus. Eriphyle was the Daughter of Taläus and Lysimache, wife of the Prophet Amphiaraus; who being brib'd with a collar of gold by Polynices, obliged her husband to go to the war of Thebes, though she knew he was decreed to fall before that city: she was slain by her son Alcmæon.

Ulysses, when he concludes, says it is time to repose

To understand this the Reader must remember, that in the beginning of the eighth book all things were prepar'd for his immediate voyage, or as it is there express'd,

So that he desires to repose in the ship, that he may begin his voyage early in the morning.

I cannot tell whether this pause, or break in the narration of Ulysses has a good effect or not; whether it gives a relief to the Reader, or is an unexpected disappointment of the pursuit of the story? But certainly what is inserted during this short interruption, is particularly well chosen; it unites the Episode with the main action, and shews how it contributes to the end of the Odyssey, in influencing the Phæacians not only to restore Ulysses, but restore him with wealth and honour, which is the aim of the whole Poem.

Eustathius observes, that the two motives which the Queen uses to move the Phæacians to liberality, is the relation Ulysses has to her, as her peculiar guest, (for Nausicaa first recommended him to the Queen's protection) and their own wealth: (for so he renders εκαστος δ' εμμορε τιμης , and Dacier follows his interpretation) I have adventur'd to translate it differently, in this sense: “'Tis true, he is my peculiar guest, but you all share in the honour he does us, and therefore it is equitable to join in his assistance,” then she closes her speech with reminding them of their abilities; which in the other sense would be tautology.

This I am persuaded is the true meaning of the passage; Ulysses had shew'd a desire immediately to go aboard, and the Queen draws an argument from this to induce the Phæacians to a greater contribution, and Ulysses to a longer stay; she persuades them to take time to prepare their presents, which must occasion the stay of Ulysses 'till they are prepar'd. They might otherwise (observes Dacier) have pretended to comply with the impatience of Ulysses, and immediately dismiss'd him with a small gratuity, under the pretext of not having time to prepare a greater. It must be confess'd, to the reproach of human Nature, that this is but too just a picture of it: Self-interest makes the Great very ready to gratify their petitioners with a dismission, or to comply with them to their disadvantage.

This speech of Ulysses has been condemned by the Critics, as avaritious; and therefore Eustathius judges it to be spoken artfully and complimentally; Didymus, with a well-bred urbanity, or χαριεντως: I see nothing mean in it, what Ulysses speaks proceeds from the gratitude of his soul; the heart of a brave man is apt to overflow while it acknowledges an obligation. Spondanus imagines that Ulysses may possibly speak jocosely, and asks if it is probable that he could be induc'd to stay from his country out of a mean consideration of a few presents, who had already preferr'd it to immortality? But in truth, Ulysses never behaves with levity; and it would give us an ill idea of that Heroe, should he return the united kindness of the Peers of Phæacia with scorn and derision: Besides, Ulysses values these presents no otherwise than as they may contribute to his re-establishment in his country; for he directly says,

This is an evidence, that the words of Ulysses flow not from so base a fountain as avarice, but that all his thoughts and actions center upon his country.

This in an instance of the judgment of Homer in sustaining his characters; the Phæacians were at first describ'd as a credulous people, and he gives us here an instance of their credulity, for they swallow all these fables as so many realities. The verse in the original is remarkable.

Which Eustathius thinks was used by Alcinous, to tell Ulysses that his fables were so well laid together as to have the appearance of truths: Dacier follows him, and (as usual) delivers his opinion as her own sentiment. But this cannot be Homer's intention, for it supposes Alcinous to look upon these relations as fables, contrary to the universal character of their ignorant credulity; I therefore am persuaded that μορφη επεων signifies the pleasantness or beauty of his relation, and φρενες εσθλαι the integrity of his heart in opposition to the character of a liar, or perhaps his wisdom in general: and this excellently agrees with his resembling him to a Musician, (who always was a Poet in those ages, and sung the exploits of Heroes, &c. to the lyre.) In this view the sweetness of the music represents the agreeableness of the narration, and the subject of the musician's song the story of his adventures.

There cannot be a greater satyr upon the fair sex than this whole conference between Ulysses and Agamemnon. Terence has fall'n into the sentiment with Homer.

But how is this to be reconciled to justice, and why should the innocent suffer for the crimes of the guilty? We are to take notice, that Agamemnon speaks with anger, an undistinguishing passion, and his words flow from resentment, not reason; it must be confess'd that Agamemnon had received great provocation, his wife had dishonour'd his bed, and taken his life away, it is therefore no wonder if he flies out-into a vehemence of language: a Poet is obliged to follow nature, and give a fierceness to the features, when he paints a person in such emotions, and add a violence to his colours.

It has been objected that Homer, and even Virgil were enemies to the fairest part of the creation; that there is scarce a good character of a woman in either of the Poets: But Andromache in the Iliad, and Penelope, Arete, and Nausicaa in the Odyssey, are instances to the contrary. I must own I am a little at a loss to vindicate Ulysses in this place; he is speaking before Arete and Nausicaa, a Queen and her daughter; and entertains them with a satyr upon their own sex, which may appear unpolite, and a want of decency; and be applied by Alcinous as a caution to beware of his spouse, and not to trust her in matters of importance with his secrets: for this is the moral that is naturally drawn from the fable. Madam Dacier gives up the cause, and allows the advice of not trusting women to be good: it comes from her indeed a little unwillingly, with I will not say but the counsel may be right. I for my part will allow Ulysses to be in an hundred faults, rather than lay such an imputation upon the Ladies; Ulysses ought to be consider'd as having suffer'd twenty years calamities for that sex in the cause of Helen, and this possibly may give a little acrimony to his language. He puts it indeed in the mouth of Agamemnon; but the objection returns, why does he chuse to relate such a story before a Queen and her daughter? In short, I think they ought to have torn him to pieces, as the Ladies of Thrace serv'd Orpheus.

Ulysses here means Aeropè the wife of Atreus, and mother of Agamemnon, who being corrupted by Thyestes, involv'd the whole family in the utmost calamities. Eustathius.

Eustathius gives us the reason why Agamemnon mentions Pyle, Sparta, and Orchomenos, as places where Orestes might make his residence: Sparta was under the dominion of his brother Menelaus: Pyle, of his old friend and faithful Counsellor Nestor; and Orchomenos was a city of great strength, and therefore of great security. We may evidently gather from this passage what notion the Antients had concerning a future state: namely, that persons after death were entirely strangers to the affairs of this world. For Orestes his son had slain his murderer Ægysthus, and reign'd in peaceable possession of his dominions; when Agamemnon is ignorant of the whole transaction, and desires Ulysses to give him information.

Homer lets no opportunity pass of celebrating his Heroe Achilles, he cannot fail of awakening our attention to hear the story of this great man after death, of whom alive we saw such wonders. Besides, the Poet pays an honour to true friendship: The Person whom Achilles best lov'd on earth, is his chief companion in the other world: a very strong argument to cultivate friendship with sincerity. Achilles here literally fulfils what he promis'd in the Iliad.

Nothing sure can give us a more disadvantagious image of a future state, than this speech which Homer puts into the mouth of so great an Heroe as Achilles. If the Poet intended to shew the vanity of that destructive glory which is purchased by the sword, and read a lecture to all the disturbers of mankind, whom we absurdly honour as Heroes, it must be allow'd he has done it effectually: If this was not his design, the remark of Plato 3 Repub. is not without a foundation; he there proscribes this whole passage as dangerous to morals, and blames the Poet for making Achilles say he prefers misery and servitude to all the honours which the dead are capable of enjoying. For what, says he, can make death more terrible to young persons? and will it not dispose them to suffer all calamities to avoid it, deter them from exposing themselves to danger, even in defence of their country, and teach them to be cowards and slaves? Lucian was of Plato's opinion, for he mentions this passage, and ridicules it in his dialogues. Dacier gives a different turn to it, and endeavours to shew that there is no danger of such consequences, as Plato draws from it: “Achilles, adds she, speaks directly contrary to his declared sentiments and actions, and therefore there is no danger he should persuade mankind to prefer servitude before death, when he himself dy'd rather than not revenge his friend Patroclus. Such words which are contradicted both by the sentiments and actions of him that speaks, have on the contrary a very good effect.” But I cannot come into her opinion, I will let Achilles answer for himself out of Lucian: “In the other world I was ignorant, says he, of the state of the dead, I had not experienced the difference between the two states, when I preferred a little empty glory to life.” This is an answer to what Dacier advances, for Achilles speaks with experience, and yet prefers misery and life before glory and death. I know not how to vindicate Homer, unless it be a vindication to say, that he wrote according to the opinions that antiently prevail'd in the world; or that like Hercules, while the vehicle of Achilles is in this state of horror, his soul may be in heaven; especially since he received divine honours after death, as well as Hercules. Tull. Nat. Deor. 3. Astypalæa Achillem sanctissimé colit, qui si Deus est, & Orpheus, &c.

I have not ventured to render the Greek literally, Ulysses says that Neoptolemus was so wise, that only he himself and Nestor were wiser; a truth that would appear more graceful, if spoken by any other person than Ulysses. But perhaps the Poet puts these words into his mouth, only because he is speaking to the Phæacians, who loved themselves to boast, and were full of vain-glory; and consequently they could not think self-praise a crime in Ulysses; on the contrary, it could not fail of having a very good effect, as it sets him off as a person of consummate wisdom.

The Poet excellently sustains the character of Achilles in this interview: In the Iliad he is describ'd a dutiful son, and always expressing a tender affection for his father Peleus; in the Odyssey he is drawn in the same soft colours: In the Iliad he is represented as a man of a strong resentment; in the Odyssey, he first imagines that his father suffers, and upon this imagination he immediately takes fire, and flies into threats and fury.

Dictys, lib. 6. relates, that Peleus was expuls'd from his kingdom by Acastus, but that Pyrrhus the son of Achilles afterwards reveng'd the injury.

It must be own'd that this passage is very intricate: Strabo himself complains of its obscurity: The Poet (says that Author) rather proposes an Ænigma, than a clear History: for who are these Cetæans, and what are these presents of women? and adds, that the Grammarians darken, instead of clearing the obscurity. But it is no difficulty to solve these objections from Eustathius.

It is evident from Strabo himself, that Eurypylus reign'd near the river Caïcus, over the Mysians, and Pliny confines it to Teuthranes; this agrees with what Ovid writes, Metam. 2.

And Virgil shews us that Caïcus was a river of Mysia, Georg. 4.

But what relation has Caïcus to the Cetæans? Hesychius informs us, that they are a people of Mysia, so call'd from the river Cetium, which runs thro' their country; Κητειοι, γενος Μυσων, απο του παρρεοντος ποταμου Κητεος. This river discharges it self into the Caïcus, and consequently the Cetæans, were Mysians, over whom Eurypylus reign'd. It would be endless to transcribe the different opinions of writers cited by Eustathius; some read the verse thus:

Then the meaning will be, How they fell far from their wives, for the sake of a reward; that is, for their pay from Hector, who, as it appears from the Iliad, tax'd the Trojans to pay the auxiliaries, one of whom was Eurypylus. Others think the word signifies, Great of stature, and in this sense we find it used in the first line of the 4th Odyssey.

But I have follow'd the first opinion, as appearing most probable and natural.

But how are we to explain the second objection, or γυναικων εινεκα δωρων? Some (says Eustathius) understand the expression as apply'd to Neoptolemus, and not Eurypylus; namely, Eurypylus and his soldiers fell by means of the gifts of women; that is, Neoptolemus was led to the war by the promise of having Hermione in marriage, the daughter of Menelaus, which promise occasion'd the death of Eurypylus, by bringing Neoptolemus to the siege of Troy. Others understand it to be spoken of a golden vine, sent by Priam to his sister Astyoche the mother of Eurypylus, to induce her to persuade her son to undertake this expedition to Troy, where he was slain by the son of Achilles; this vine was said to be given to Tros the father of Priam by Jupiter, as a recompense for his carrying away his son Ganymede to be his cup-bearer; but this is too much a fable to be follow'd. Others more probably assert, that Priam had promis'd one of his daughters to Eurypylus, to engage his assistance in the war; and this agrees very well with Homer's manner of writing in many places of the Iliad; and there is a great resemblance between Eurypylus in the Odyssey and Othryoneus in the Iliad, lib. 13. 460.

Spondanus cites a passage from Dictys, lib. 4. that very well explains these difficulties: Inter quæ tam læta, (nimirum mortem Achillis, &c.) Priamo supervenit nuncius Eurypylum Telephi filium ex Mysia adventare, quem rex multis anteà illectum præmiis, ad postremum oblatione Cassandræ confirmaverat, addiderat etiam auream vitem, & ob id per populos memorabilem.

There are two particulars which want explication in these verses: How did Thetis give the law to the contest between Ajax and Ulysses? and how could the Trojans be made judges to determine between two Grecian Heroes? Thetis the mother of Achilles was a Goddess, and out of honour to her, the Chiefs of the Grecian army propos'd the arms of her son as a reward to the most worthy; and Poetry, to give a magnificence to the story, introduces the Goddess as acting in person what is done upon her account. Thetis may properly be said to be desirous that the memory of her son should be honoured; and Homer to express this desire poetically, tells us it was the act of that Goddess, to propose the arms of Achilles as a reward to the most worthy of the Grecian Heroes.

The second difficulty is fully explain'd by Eustathius: Agamemnon finding it an invidious affair to give the preference to any one of the Grecian Heroes, and being willing to avoid the reproach of partiality, commanded the Trojan prisoners to be brought before the whole army, and ask'd from which of the two Heroes, Ajax or Ulysses, they had received the greater detriment; they immediately reply'd from Ulysses; thus the Trojans adjudg'd the cause. The Poet adds, that this was done by Minerva; that is, the affair was conducted with wisdom, the result of which in Poetry is usually ascrib'd to the Goddess of it; and no doubt but the Goddess of Wisdom must always prefer Wisdom to mere Valour, or an Ulysses to an Ajax. This decision is related in a very different manner by other Poets; in particular, by Ovid in his Metamorphosis; but Lucian in his Dialogues agrees with Homer in every point very circumstantially; and consequently, with some obscurity; but what I have here said fully explains that dialogue of Lucian, as well as this passage of Homer.

This silence of Ajax was very much admired by the Antients, and Longinus proposes it as an instance of the true sublimity of thought, which springs from an elevation of soul, and not from the diction; for a man may be truly sublime without speaking a word: Thus in the silence of Ajax there is something more noble, than in any thing he could possibly have spoken. Monsieur Rapin agrees with Longinus: The stubborn untractable Ajax (says that Author) could not have made a better return to the compliments full of submission which were paid him by Ulysses, than by a disdainful and contemptuous silence: Ajax has more the air of grandeur and majesty, when he says nothing, than when the Poet makes him speak. Virgil was sensible of the beauty of it, and paints Dido in the attitude of Ajax. Fraguier infinitely prefers the silence of Dido to that of Ajax; she was a woman disappointed in love, and therefore no wonder if she was greatly passionate, and sunk under the weight of the calamity; but Ajax was a Heroe, and ought to have freed himself by his courage from such an unworthy degree of resentment. But to me there appears no weight in this objection: We must remember what an Heroe Ajax is, a sour, stubborn, untractable Heroe; and upon all occasions given to taciturnity; this is his universal and notorious character thro' the whole Iliad: The Poet therefore adapts his description to it, and he is the same Ajax in the Odyssey as he was in the Iliad: Had this been spoken of any other Heroe, the criticism had been more just, but in Ajax this stubborn silence is proper and noble.

The expression in the Greek is remarkable, Ημενοι, εσταοτες τε; that is, “standing and sitting;” this is to be referr'd to different persons; the εσταοτες were the συνδικασται, or persons who pleaded the cause of the guilty or innocent before the infernal judges: The ημενοι were the persons for whom they pleaded, or those who were about to receive judgment. I doubt not but this was a custom observ'd in the courts of Judicature in the days of Homer. Eustathius.

The diversion of this infernal hunter may seem extraordinary in pursuing the shades of beasts; but it was the opinion of the Antients, that the same passions to which men were subject on earth continued with them in the other world; and their shades were liable to be affected in the same manner as their bodies: Thus we frequently see them shedding tears, and Sisyphus sweats, in rolling the stone up the mountain.

And again.

I cannot but be of opinion that Milton has far surpass'd both the Greek and the Roman Poet, in the description of the employment of the fall'n Angels in Hell, as the Ideas are more noble and suitable to the characters he describes.

It is needless to mention that Virgil has adorn'd his descent into Hell with most of these fables borrow'd from Homer; It is equally unnecessary to relate what antiquity says of these fabled persons, and their histories; but the moral of them all is observ'd by Eustathius, and fully explain'd by Lucretius, which I will lay together from Mr. Dryden's translation.

I will only add the reason from Eustathius, why Tityus was fabled to be the son of the earth; it was from his being immers'd in worldly cares, and from his centring all his affections upon the earth, as if he had sprung from it; this is alluded by the expression κειμενον εν δαπεδω. Spondanus gives us another reason; Elara being pregnant by Jupiter, he to avoid the jealousy of Juno concealed her in a cavern of the earth, where Tityus being born, is fabled to be the son of the earth: He adds, that the fiction of his covering nine acres, arose from that space of ground which was enclosed for his place of burial. Perhaps the story of Tantalus was invented solely to paint the nature of a covetous person, who starves amidst plenty, like Tantalus in the midst of water. Thus Horace applies it, Satyr. 1. v. 70.

This is a very remarkable instance of the beauty of Homer's versification; it is taken notice of by Eustathius, but copiously explain'd by Dionysius Halicarn. in his treatise of placing of words.

Here (says Dionysius) we see in the choice and disposition of the words the fact which they describe; the weight of the stone, and the striving to heave it up the mountain: To effect this, Homer clogs the verse with Spondees or long syllables, and leaves the vowels open, as in λααν, and in αθεσκε, which two words it is impossible to pronounce without hesitation and difficulty; the very words and syllables are heavy, and as it were make resistance in the pronounciation, to express the heaviness of the stone, and the difficulty with which it is forced up the mountain. To give the English Reader a faint image of the beauty of the original in the translation, I have loaded the verse with monosyllables, and these almost all begin with Aspirates.

Homer is no less happy in describing the rushing down of the stone from the top of the mountain.

Is it not evident, (continues Dionysius) that the swiftness of the verse imitates the celerity of the stone in its descent; nay, that the verse runs with the greater rapidity? What is the cause of this? It is because there is not one monosyllable in the line, and but two dissyllables, ten of the syllables are short, and not one spondee in it, except one that could not be avoided at the conclusion of it; there is no hiatus or gap between word and word, no vowels left open to retard the celerity of it: the whole seems to be but one word, the syllables melt into one another, and flow away with the utmost rapidity in a torrent of Dactyls. I was too sensible of the beauty of this not to endeavour to imitate it, tho' unsuccessfully: I have therefore thrown it into the swiftness of an Alexandrine, to make it of a more proportionable number of syllables with the Greek.

I refer the Reader for a fuller explication of these verses to Dionysius.

This is the passage formerly referr'd to in these annotations, to prove that Hercules was in heaven, while his shade was in the infernal regions; a full evidence of the partition of the human composition into three parts: The body is buried in the earth; the image or ειδωλον descends into the regions of the departed; and the soul, or the divine part of man, is receiv'd into Heaven: Thus the body of Hercules was consumed in the flames, his image is in Hell, and his soul in Heaven. There is a beautiful moral couch'd in the fable of his being married to Hebe, or youth, after death: to imply, that a perpetual youth or a reputation which never grows old, is the reward of those Heroes, who like Hercules employ their courage for the good of humankind.

This verse is not without obscurity; Eustathius gives us several interpretations of it.

The negative μη, by being repeated, seems to be redundant; and this in a great measure occasions the difficulty; but in the Greek language two negatives more strongly deny; this being premis'd, we may read the verse as if the former μη were absent, and then the meaning will be, “He that made this Zone, never made any thing equal to it:” as if we should say, that Phidias who made the statue of Jupiter never made any other statue like it; that is, he employed the whole power of his skill upon it. Others understand the verse as an execration: Oh never, never may the hand that made it, make any thing again so terrible as this Zone! And this will give some reason for the repetition of the negative particles. Dacier approves of this latter explication, and moralizes upon it: It proceeds (says she) from a tender sentiment of humanity in Ulysses, who wishes that there may never more be occasion for such a design, as the artist executed in this belt of Hercules; that there may be no more giants to conquer, no more monsters to tame, or no more human blood be shed. I wish that such a pious and well-natur'd explication were to be drawn from the passage! But how is it possible that the artist who made this Zone should ever make another, when he had been in his grave some Centuries? (for such a distance there was between the days of Hercules and Ulysses;) and consequently it would be impertinent to wish it. I have therefore followed the former interpretation. I will only add, that this belt of Hercules is the reverse of the girdle of Venus; in that, there is a collection of every thing that is amiable, in this, a variety of horrors; but both are master-pieces in their kind.

Nothing can be more artfully inserted than the mention of this descent of Hercules into the regions of the dead: Ulysses shews by it at least that it was a vulgar opinion, and consequently within the degrees of poetical probability; a Poet being at liberty to follow common fame: In particular, it could not fail of having a full effect upon his Phæacian auditors, not only as it in some measure sets him upon a level with Hercules, but as it is an example of a like undertaking with this which he has been relating, and therefore a probable method to gain their belief of it. Eustathius.

Plutarch in his life of Theseus informs us, that this verse has been thought not genuine; but added to the Odyssey in honour of the Athenians by Pisistratus.

The Poet shews us that he had still a noble fund of invention, and had it in his power to open new scenes of wonder and entertainment; but that this infernal Episode might not be too long, he shifts the scene: The invention of the Gorgon, which terrifies him from a longer abode in these realms of darkness gives a probable reason for his immediate return. Eustathius informs us from Athenæus, that Alexander the Mydian writes in his History of Animals, that there really was a creature in Lybia, which the Nomades call'd a Gorgon; it resembled a wild Ram, or as some affirm a calf; whose breath was of such a poisonous nature, as to kill all that approach'd it: In the same region the Catolepton is found, a creature like a bull, whose eyes are so fix'd in the head as chiefly to look downward; Pliny calls it Catoblepas, lib. 8. cap. 21. which is likewise supposed to kill with its eyes: The Gorgon (proceeds Athenæus) has its hair hanging over its eyes down from the forehead, of such thickness that it scarce is able to remove it, to guide it self from danger; but it kills not by its breath, but with emanations darted from its eyes: The beast was well known in the time of Marius, for certain of his soldiers seeing it, mistook it for a wild sheep, and pursued it to take it; but the hair being removed by the motion of its flying, it slew all upon whom it look'd: at length the Nomades, who knew the nature of the beast, destroy'd it with darts at a distance, and carried it to the General Marius. Howsoever little truth there be in this story, it is a sufficient ground for poetical fictions, and all the fables that are ascrib'd to the Gorgon.

It may not probably be unpleasant to the Reader, to observe the manner how the two great Poets Homer and Virgil close the scene of their infernal adventures, by restoring their Heroes to the earth. Ulysses returns by the same way he descended, of which we have a plain description in the beginning of this book: Virgil takes a different method, he borrows his conclusion from another part of Homer; in which he describes the two gates of sleep; the one is ivory, the other of horn: Thro' the ivory gate, issue falshoods, through the gate of horn truths: Virgil dismisses Æneas through the gate of falshood: Now what is this, but to inform us that all that he relates is nothing but a dream, and that dream a falshood? I submit it to the Critics who are more disposed to find fault than I am, to determine whether Virgil ought to be censured for such an acknowledgment, or prais'd for his ingenuity?