University of Virginia Library



THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE ODYSSEY.



The ARGUMENT. The descent into Hell.

Ulysses continues his Narration, How he arriv'd at the land of the Cimmerians, and what Ceremonies he perform'd to invoke the dead. The manner of his descent, and the Apparition of the Shades; his conversation with Elpenor, and with Tiresias, who informs him in a prophetic manner of his fortunes to come. He meets his mother Anticlea, from whom he learns the state of his family. He sees the shades of the antient Heroines, afterwards of the Heroes, and converses in particular with Agamemnon and Achilles. Ajax keeps at a sullen distance, and disdains to answer him. He then beholds Tityus, Tantalus, Sysiphus, Hercules; 'till he is deterred from further curiosity by the apparition of horrid Spectres, and the cries of the wicked in torments.


63

Now to the shores we bend, a mournful train,
Climb the tall bark, and launch into the main:
At once the mast we rear, at once unbind
The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind:

64

Then pale and pensive stand, with cares opprest,
And solemn horror saddens every breast.

65

A freshning breeze the

Circe.

Magic pow'r supply'd,

While the wing'd vessel flew along the tyde:

66

Our oars we shipp'd: all day the swelling fails
Full from the guiding pilot catch'd the gales.
Now sunk the Sun from his aerial height,
And o'er the shaded billows rush'd the night:
When lo! we reach'd old Ocean's utmost bounds,
Where rocks controul his waves with ever-during mounds.
There in a lonely land, and gloomy cells,
The dusky nation of Cimmeria dwells;

67

The Sun ne'er views th'uncomfortable seats,
When radiant he advances, or retreats:
Unhappy race! whom endless night invades,
Clouds the dull air, and wraps them round in shades.
The ship we moor on these obscure abodes;
Dis-bark the sheep, an offering to the Gods;
And hellward bending, o'er the beach descry
The dolesome passage to th'infernal sky.
The victims, vow'd to each Tartarean pow'r,
Eurylochus and Perimedes bore.
Here open'd Hell, all Hell I here implor'd,
And from the scabbard drew the shining sword;
And trenching the black earth on ev'ry side,
A cavern form'd, a cubit long and wide.

68

New wine, with honey-temper'd milk, we bring,
Then living waters from the crystal spring;
O'er these was strow'd the consecrated flour,
And on the surface shone the holy store.
Now the wan shades we hail, th'infernal Gods,
To speed our course, and waft us o'er the floods;
So shall a barren heifer from the stall
Beneath the knife upon your altars fall;

69

So in our palace, at our safe return
Rich with unnumber'd gifts the Pyle shall burn;
So shall a Ram, the largest of the breed,
Black as these regions, to Tiresias bleed.
Thus solemn rites and holy vows we paid
To all the Phantom nations of the dead.
Then dy'd the sheep; a purple torrent flow'd,
And all the cavern smok'd with streaming blood.
When lo! appear'd along the dusky coasts,
Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts;

70

Fair, pensive youths, and soft-enamour'd maids,
And wither'd Elders, pale and wrinkled shades:

71

Ghastly with wounds the forms of warriors slain
Stalk'd with majestic port, a martial train:
These, and a thousand more swarm'd o'er the ground,
And all the dire assembly shriek'd around.
Astonish'd at the sight, aghast I stood,
And a cold fear ran shivering thro' my blood;
Strait I command the sacrifice to haste,
Strait the flea'd victims to the flames are cast,
And mutter'd vows, and mystic song apply'd
To grisly Pluto, and his gloomy bride.
Now swift I wav'd my faulchion o'er the blood;
Back started the pale throngs, and trembling stood.
Round the black trench the gore untasted flows,
'Till awful, from the shades Tiresias rose.
There, wand'ring thro' the gloom I first survey'd,
New to the realms of death, Elpenor's shade:
His cold remains all naked to the sky
On distant shores unwept, unburied lie.
Sad at the sight I stand, deep fix'd in woe,
And ere I spoke the tears began to flow.
O say what angry pow'r Elpenor led
To glide in shades, and wander with the dead?

72

How could thy soul, by realms and seas disjoyn'd,
Out-fly the nimble sail, and leave the lagging wind?
The Ghost reply'd: To Hell my doom I owe,
Dæmons accurst, dire ministers of woe!

73

My feet thro' wine unfaithful to their weight,
Betray'd me tumbling from a tow'ry height.
Stagg'ring I reel'd, and as I reel'd I fell.
Lux'd the neck joynt—my soul descends to hell.
But lend me aid, I now conjure thee lend,
By the soft tye and sacred name of friend!

74

By thy fond consort! by thy father's cares!
By lov'd Telemachus his blooming years!
For well I know that soon the heav'nly pow'rs
Will give thee back to day, and Circe's shores:
There pious on my cold remains attend,
There call to mind thy poor departed friend.
The tribute of a tear is all I crave,
And the possession of a peaceful grave.
But if unheard, in vain compassion plead,
Revere the Gods, the Gods avenge the dead!
A tomb along the wat'ry margin raise,
The tomb with manly arms and trophies grace,
To shew posterity Elpenor was.
There high in air, memorial of my name
Fix the smooth oar, and bid me live to fame.
To whom with tears; These rites, oh mournful shade,
Due to thy Ghost, shall to thy Ghost be paid.
Still as I spoke, the Phantom seem'd to moan,
Tear follow'd tear, and groan succeeded groan.
But as my waving sword the blood surrounds,
The shade withdrew, and mutter'd empty sounds.

75

There as the wond'rous visions I survey'd,
All pale ascends my royal mother's shade:
A Queen, to Troy she saw our legions pass;
Now a thin form is all Anticlea was!
Struck at the sight I melt with filial woe,
And down my cheek the pious sorrows flow,
Yet as I shook my faulchion o'er the blood,
Regardless of her son the Parent stood.
When lo! the mighty Theban I behold;
To guide his steps he bore a staff of gold;
Awful he trod! majestic was his look!
And from his holy lips these accents broke.

76

Why, mortal, wand'rest thou from chearful day,
To tread the downward, melancholy way?
What angry Gods to these dark regions led
Thee yet alive, companion of the dead?
But sheath thy ponyard, while my tongue relates
Heav'n's stedfast purpose, and thy future fates.

77

While yet he spoke, the Prophet I obey'd,
And in the scabbard plung'd the glitt'ring blade:
Eager he quaff'd the gore, and then exprest
Dark things to come, the counsels of his breast.
Weary of light, Ulysses here explores,
A prosp'rous voyage to his native shores;
But know—by me unerring Fates disclose
New trains of dangers, and new scenes of woes,
I see! I see, thy bark by Neptune tost,
For injur'd Cyclops, and his eyeball lost!
Yet to thy woes the Gods decree an end,
If heav'n thou please; and how to please attend!
Where on Trinacrian rocks the Ocean roars,
Graze num'rous herds along the verdant shores;
Tho' hunger press, yet fly the dang'rous prey,
The herds are sacred to the God of day,
Who all surveys with his extensive eye
Above, below, on earth and in the sky!
Rob not the God, and so propitious gales
Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails:
But if his herds ye seize, beneath the waves
I see thy friends o'erwhelm'd in liquid graves!

78

The direful wreck Ulysses scarce survives!
Ulysses at his country scarce arrives!
Strangers thy guides! nor there thy labours end,
New foes arise, domestick ills attend!
There foul adult'rers to thy bride resort,
And lordly gluttons riot in thy court.
But vengeance hastes amain! These eyes behold
The deathful scene, Princes on Princes roll'd!
That done, a people far from Sea explore,
Who ne'er knew salt, or heard the billows roar,

79

Or saw gay vessel stem the wat'ry plain,
A painted wonder flying on the main!
Bear on thy back an Oar: with strange amaze
A shepherd meeting thee, the Oar surveys,
And names a Van: there fix it on the plain,
To calm the God that holds the wat'ry reign;

80

A threefold off'ring to his Altar bring,
A bull, a ram, a boar; and hail the Ocean-King.
But home return'd, to each ætherial pow'r
Slay the due Victim in the genial hour:
So peaceful shalt thou end thy blissful days,
And steal thy self from life, by slow decays:
Unknown to pain, in age resign thy breath,
When late stern Neptune points the shaft with death;

81

To the dark grave retiring as to rest,
Thy people blessing, by thy people blest!
Unerring truths, oh man, my lips relate;
This is thy life to come, and this is fate.
To whom unmov'd; If this the Gods prepare,
What heav'n ordains the wise with courage bear.
But say, why yonder on the lonely strands,
Unmindful of her son, Anticlea stands?
Why to the ground she bends her downcast eye?
Why is she silent, while her son is nigh?
The latent cause, oh sacred Seer, reveal!
Nor this, replies the Seer, will I conceal.
Know; to the spectres, that thy bev'rage taste,
The scenes of life recur, and actions past;

82

They, seal'd with truth return the sure reply,
The rest repell'd, a train oblivious fly.
The phantom Prophet ceas'd, and sunk from sight
To the black palace of eternal Night.
Still in the dark abodes of death I stood,
When near Anticlea mov'd, and drank the blood.
Strait all the mother in her soul awakes,
And owning her Ulysses, thus she speaks.
Com'st thou, my son, alive, to realms beneath,
The dolesom realms of darkness and of death:
Com'st thou alive from pure, ætherial day?
Dire is the region, dismal is the way!
Here lakes profound, there floods oppose their waves,
There the wide sea with all his billows raves!

83

Or (since to dust proud Troy submits her tow'rs)
Com'st thou a wand'rer from the Phrygian shores?
Or say, since honour call'd thee to the field,
Hast thou thy Ithaca, thy bride, beheld?
Source of my life, I cry'd, from earth I fly
To seek Tiresias in the nether sky,
To learn my doom: for tost from woe to woe,
In every land Ulysses finds a foe:
Nor have these eyes beheld my native shores,
Since in the dust proud Troy submits her tow'rs.
But, when thy soul from her sweet mansion fled,
Say what distemper gave thee to the dead?
Has life's fair lamp declin'd by slow decays,
Or swift expir'd it, in a sudden blaze?
Say if my sire, good old Laertes, lives?
If yet Telemachus, my son, survives?
Say by his rule is my dominion aw'd,
Or crush'd by traytors with an iron rod?

84

Say if my spouse maintains her royal trust,
Tho' tempted chaste, and obstinately just?
Or if no more her absent Lord she wails,
But the false woman o'er the wife prevails.
Thus I, and thus the parent shade returns.
Thee, ever thee, thy faithful consort mourns;
Whether the night descends, or day prevails,
Thee she by night, and thee by day bewails,
Thee in Telemachus thy realm obeys;
In sacred groves celestial rites he pays,
And shares the banquet in superior state,
Grac'd with such honours as become the Great.

85

Thy sire in solitude foments his care:
The court is joyless, for thou art not there!
No costly carpets raise his hoary head,
No rich embroid'ry shines to grace his bed:
Ev'n when keen winter freezes in the skies,
Rank'd with his slaves, on earth the Monarch lies:
Deep are his sighs, his visage pale, his dress
The garb of woe and habit of distress.
And when the Autumn takes his annual round,
The leafy honours scatt'ring on the ground;
Regardless of his years, abroad he lies,
His bed the leaves, his canopy the skies.
Thus cares on cares his painful days consume,
And bow his age with sorrow to the tomb!

86

For thee, my son, I wept my life away;
For thee thro' hell's eternal dungeons stray:
Nor came my fate by ling'ring pains and slow,
Nor bent the silver-shafted Queen her bow;
No dire disease bereav'd me of my breath;
Thou, thou my son wert my disease and death;
Unkindly with my love my son conspir'd,
For thee I liv'd, for absent thee expir'd.
Thrice in my arms I strove her shade to bind,
Thrice thro' my arms she slipt like empty wind,
Or dreams, the vain illusions of the mind.

87

Wild with despair, I shed a copious tide
Of flowing tears, and thus with sighs reply'd.
Fly'st thou, lov'd shade, while I thus fondly mourn?
Turn to my arms, to my embraces turn!
Is it, ye pow'rs that smile at human harms!
Too great a bliss to weep within her arms?
Or has hell's Queen an empty Image sent,
That wretched I might ev'n my joys lament?
O son of woe, the pensive shade rejoin'd,
Oh most inur'd to grief of all mankind!
'Tis not the Queen of Hell who thee deceives:
All, all are such, when life the body leaves;
No more the substance of the man remains,
Nor bounds the blood along the purple veins;
These the funereal flames in atoms bear,
To wander with the wind in empty air,
While the impassive soul reluctant flies
Like a vain dream to these infernal skies.
But from the dark dominions speed thy way,
And climb the steep ascent to upper day;

88

To thy chaste bride the wond'rous story tell,
The woes, the horrors, and the laws of Hell.
Thus whiles he spoke, in swarms hell's Empress brings
Daughters and wives of Heroes and of Kings;
Thick, and more thick they gather round the blood,
Ghost throng'd on ghost (a dire assembly) stood!
Dauntless my sword I seize: the airy crew,
Swift as it flash'd along the gloom, withdrew;
Then shade to shade in mutual forms succeeds,
Her race recounts, and their illustrious deeds.

89

Tyro began: whom great Salmoneus bred;
The royal partner of fam'd Cretheus' bed.
For fair Enipeus, as from fruitful urns
He pours his wat'ry store, the Virgin burns;

90

Smooth flows the gentle stream with wanton pride,
And in soft mazes rouls a silver Tide:
As on his banks the maid enamour'd roves,
The Monarch of the deep beholds and loves;
In her Enipeus' form and borrow'd charms,
The am'rous God descends into her arms:
Around, a spacious arch of waves he throws,
And high in air the liquid mountain rose;
Thus in surrounding floods conceal'd he proves
The pleasing transport, and compleats his loves.
Then softly sighing, he the fair addrest,
And as he spoke her tender hand he prest.
Hail happy nymph! no vulgar births are ow'd
To the prolific raptures of a God:
Lo! when nine times the moon renews her horn,
Two brother heroes shall from thee be born;
Thy early care the future worthies claim,
To point them to the arduous paths of fame;
But in thy breast th'important truth conceal,
Nor dare the secret of a God reveal:
For know, thou Neptune view'st! and at my nod
Earth trembles, and the waves confess their God.
He added not, but mountain spurn'd the plain,
Then plung'd into the chambers of the main.

91

Now in the time's full process forth she brings
Jove's dread vicegerents, in two future Kings;
O'er proud Iolcos Pelias stretch'd his reign,
And god-like Neleus rul'd the Pylian plain:
Then fruitful, to her Cretheus' royal bed
She gallant Pheres and fam'd Æson bred:
From the same fountain Amytheon rose,
Pleas'd with the din of war, and noble shout of foes.
There mov'd Antiope with haughty charms,
Who blest th'Almighty Thund'rer in her arms;
Hence sprung Amphion, hence brave Zethus came,
Founders of Thebes, and men of mighty name;

92

Tho' bold in open field, they yet surround
The town with walls, and mound inject on mound;
Here ramparts stood, there tow'rs rose high in air,
And here thro' sev'n wide portals rush'd the war.
There with soft step the fair Alcmena trod,
Who bore Alcides to the thund'ring God;
And Megara, who charm'd the son of Jove,
And soften'd his stern soul to tender love.
Sullen and sow'r with discontented mien
Jocasta frown'd, th'incestuous Theban Queen;
With her own Son she join'd in nuptial bands,
Tho' father's blood imbru'd his murd'rous hands:
The Gods and men the dire offence detest,
The Gods with all their furies rend his breast:
In lofty Thebes he wore th'imperial crown,
A pompous wretch! accurs'd upon a throne.

93

The wife self-murder'd from a beam depends,
And her foul soul to blackest Hell descends;
Thence to her son the choicest plagues she brings,
And the fiends haunt him with a thousand stings.
And now the beauteous Chloris I descry,
A lovely shade, Amphion's youngest joy!
With gifts unnumber'd Neleus sought her arms,
Nor paid too dearly for unequal'd charms;
Great in Orchomenos, in Pylos great,
He sway'd the scepter with imperial state.
Three gallant sons the joyful monarch told,
Sage Nestor, Periclimenus the bold,

94

And Chromius last; but of the softer race,
One nymph alone, a miracle of grace.
Kings on their thrones for lovely Pero burn,
The Sire denies, and Kings rejected mourn.
To him alone the beauteous prize he yields,
Whose arm should ravish from Phylacian fields
The herds of Iphyclus, detain'd in wrong;
Wild, furious herds, unconquerably strong!
This dares a Seer, but nought the Seer prevails,
In beauty's cause illustriously he fails:

95

Twelve moons the foe the captive youth detains
In painful dungeons, and coercive chains;
The foe at last from durance where he lay,
His art revering, gave him back to day;
Won by prophetic knowledge, to fulfill
The stedfast purpose of th'Almighty will.

96

With graceful port advancing now I spy'd
Leda the fair, the god-like Tyndar's bride:
Hence Pollux sprung who wields with furious sway
The deathful gauntlet, matchless in the fray;
And Castor glorious on th'embattled plain
Curbs the proud steed, reluctant to the rein:
By turns they visit this ætherial sky,
And live alternate, and alternate die:
In hell beneath, on earth, in heav'n above
Reign the Twin-gods, the fav'rite sons of Jove.
There Ephimedia trod the gloomy plain,
Who charm'd the Monarch of the boundless main;
Hence Ephialtes, hence stern Otus sprung,
More fierce than Giants, more than Giants strong;

97

The earth o'erburthen'd groan'd beneath their weight,
None but Orion e'er surpass'd their height:
The wond'rous youths had scarce nine winters told,
When high in air, tremendous to behold,
Nine ells aloft they rear'd their tow'ring head,
And full nine cubits broad their shoulders spread.

98

Proud of their strength and more than mortal size,
The Gods they challenge, and affect the skies;

99

Heav'd on Olympus tott'ring Ossa stood;
On Ossa, Pelion nods with all his wood:
Such were they Youths! had they to manhood grown,
Almighty Jove had trembled on his throne.
But ere the harvest of the beard began
To bristle on the chin, and promise man,
His shafts Apollo aim'd; at once they sound,
And stretch the Giant-monsters o'er the ground.
There mournful Phædra with sad Procris moves,
Both beauteous shades, both hapless in their loves;

100

And near them walk'd, with solemn pace and slow,
Sad Ariadne, partner of their woe;
The royal Minos Ariadne bred,
She Theseus lov'd; from Crete with Theseus fled;
Swift to the Dian Isle the Heroe flies,
And tow'rds his Athens bears the lovely prize;
There Bacchus with fierce rage Diana fires,
The Goddess aims her shaft, the Nymph expires.

101

There Clymenè, and Mæra I behold,
There Eriphylè weeps, who loosely sold
Her lord, her honour, for the lust of gold.
But should I all recount, the night would fail,
Unequal to the melancholy tale:
And all-composing rest my nature craves,
Here in the court, or yonder on the waves;
In you I trust, and in the heav'nly pow'rs,
To land Ulysses on his native shores.
He ceas'd: but left so charming on their ear
His voice, that list'ning still they seem'd to hear.
'Till rising up, Aretè silence broke,
Stretch'd out her snowy hand, and thus she spoke:

102

What wond'rous man heav'n sends us in our guest!
Thro' all his woes the Heroe shines confest;
His comely port, his ample frame express
A manly air, majestic in distress.
He, as my guest, is my peculiar care,
You share the pleasure,—then in bounty share;
To worth in misery a rev'rence pay,
And with a gen'rous hand reward his stay;
For since kind heav'n with wealth our realm has blest,
Give it to heav'n, by aiding the distrest.
Then sage Echeneus, whose grave, rev'rend brow
The hand of Time had silver'd o'er with snow,
Mature in wisdom rose: Your words, he cries,
Demand obedience, for your words are wise.
But let our King direct the glorious way
To gen'rous acts; our part is to obey.

103

While life informs these limbs, (the King reply'd)
Well to deserve, be all my cares employ'd:
But here this night the royal guest detain,
'Till the sun flames along th'ethereal plain:
Be it my task to send with ample stores
The stranger from our hospitable shores;
Tread you my steps! 'Tis mine to lead the race,
The first in glory, as the first in place.
To whom the Prince: This night with joy I stay,
O Monarch great in virtue as in sway!
If thou the circling year my stay controul,
To raise a bounty noble as thy soul;

104

The circling year I wait, with ampler stores
And fitter pomp to hail my native shores:
Then by my realms due homage would be paid;
For wealthy Kings are loyally obey'd!
O King! for such thou art, and sure thy blood
Thro' veins (he cry'd) of royal fathers flow'd;
Unlike those vagrants who on falshood live,
Skill'd in smooth tales, and artful to deceive,
Thy better soul abhors the liar's part,

105

Wise is thy voice, and noble is thy heart.
Thy words like music every breast controul,
Steal thro' the ear, and win upon the soul;
Soft, as some song divine, thy story flows,
Nor better could the Muse record thy woes.
But say, upon the dark and dismal coast,
Saw'st thou the Worthies of the Grecian Host?
The God-like leaders who in battle slain,
Fell before Troy, and nobly prest the plain?
And lo! a length of night behind remains,
The evening stars still mount th'ethereal plains.
Thy tale with raptures I could hear thee tell,
Thy woes on earth, the wond'rous scenes in hell,
'Till in the vault of heav'n the stars decay,
And the sky reddens with the rising day.
O worthy of the pow'r the Gods assign'd,
(Ulysses thus replies) a King in mind!
Since yet the early hour of night allows
Time for discourse, and time for soft repose,
If scenes of misery can entertain,
Woes I unfold, of woes a dismal train.
Prepare to hear of murther and of blood;
Of god-like Heroes who uninjur'd stood
Amidst a war of spears in foreign lands,
Yet bled at home, and bled by female hands.

106

Now summon'd Proserpine to hell's black hall
The heroine shades; they vanish'd at her call.
When lo! advanc'd the forms of Heroes slain
By stern Ægysthus, a majestic train,
And high above the rest, Atrides prest the plain.
He quaff'd the gore: and strait his soldier knew,
And from his eyes pour'd down the tender dew;
His arms he stretch'd; his arms the touch deceive,
Nor in the fond embrace, embraces give:
His substance vanish'd, and his strength decay'd,
Now all Atrides is an empty shade.
Mov'd at the sight, I for a space resign'd
To soft affliction all my manly mind,
At last with tears—O what relentless doom
Imperial Phantom, bow'd thee to the tomb?
Say while the sea, and while the tempest raves,
Has fate oppress'd thee in the roaring waves,
Or nobly seiz'd thee in the dire alarms
Of war and slaughter, and the clash of arms?
The Ghost returns: O chief of humankind
For active courage, and a patient mind;
Nor while the sea, nor while the tempest raves,
Has Fate oppress'd me on the roaring waves!
Nor nobly seiz'd me in the dire alarms,
Of war and slaughter, and the clash of arms,

107

Stab'd by a murd'rous hand Atrides dy'd,
A foul adult'rer, and a faithless bride;
Ev'n in my mirth and at the friendly feast,
O'er the full bowl, the traitor stab'd his guest;
Thus by the goary arm of slaughter falls
The stately Oxe, and bleeds within the stalls.
But not with me the direful murther ends,
These, these expir'd! their crime, they were my friends;
Thick as the boars, which some luxurious lord
Kills for the feast, to crown the nuptial board.
When war has thunder'd with its loudest storms,
Death thou hast seen in all her ghastly forms;
In duel met her, on the listed ground,
When hand to hand they wound return for wound;
But never have thy eyes astonish'd view'd
So vile a deed, so dire a scene of blood.
Ev'n in the flow of joy, when now the bowl
Glows in our veins, and opens ev'ry soul,
We groan, we faint; with blood the dome is dy'd,
And o'er the pavement floats the dreadful tyde—
Her breast all gore, with lamentable cries,
The bleeding innocent Cassandra dies!
Then tho' pale death froze cold in ev'ry vein,
My sword I strive to wield, but strive in vain;

108

Nor did my traitress wife these eyelids close,
Or decently in death my limbs compose.
O Woman, woman, when to ill thy mind
Is bent, all hell contains no fouler fiend:
And such was mine! who basely plung'd her sword
Thro' the fond bosom where she reign'd ador'd!
Alas! I hop'd, the toils of war o'ercome,
To meet soft quiet and repose at home;
Delusive hope! O wife, thy deeds disgrace
The perjur'd sex, and blacken all the race;
And should posterity one virtuous find,
Name Clytemnestra, they will curse the kind.

109

O injur'd shade, I cry'd, what mighty woes
To thy imperial race from woman rose!
By woman here thou tread'st this mournful strand,
And Greece by woman lies a desart land.
Warn'd by my ills beware, the Shade replies,
Nor trust the sex that is so rarely wise;
When earnest to explore thy secret breast,
Unfold some trifle, but conceal the rest.
But in thy consort cease to fear a foe,
For thee she feels sincerity of woe:

110

When Troy first bled beneath the Grecian arms
She shone unrival'd with a blaze of charms,
Thy infant son her fragrant bosom prest,
Hung at her knee, or wanton'd at her breast;
But now the years a num'rous train have ran;
The blooming boy is ripen'd into man;
Thy eyes shall see him burn with noble fire,
The sire shall bless his son, the son his sire:
But my Orestes never met these eyes,
Without one look the murther'd father dies;
Then from a wretched friend this wisdom learn,
Ev'n to thy Queen disguis'd, unknown, return;
For since of womankind so few are just,
Think all are false, nor ev'n the faithful trust.
But say, resides my son in royal port,
In rich Orchomenos, or Sparta's court?

111

Or say in Pyle? for yet he views the light,
Nor glides a Phantom thro' the realms of night.
Then I. Thy suit is vain, nor can I say
If yet he breathes in realms of chearful day;
Or pale or wan beholds these nether skies?
Truth I revere: For Wisdom never lies.
Thus in a tide of tears our sorrows flow,
And add new horror to the realms of woe.
'Till side by side along the dreary coast
Advanc'd Achilles' and Patroclus' ghost,
A friendly pair! near these the

Antilochus.

Pylian stray'd,

And tow'ring Ajax, an illustrious shade!
War was his joy, and pleas'd with loud alarms,
None but Pelides brighter shone in arms.
Thro' the thick gloom his friend Achilles knew,
And as he speaks the tears descend in dew.

112

Com'st thou alive to view the Stygian bounds,
Where the wan Spectres walk eternal rounds;
Nor fear'st the dark and dismal waste to tread,
Throng'd with pale ghosts, familiar with the dead?
To whom with sighs: I pass these dreadful gates
To seek the Theban, and consult the Fates:
For still distrest I rove from coast to coast,
Lost to my friends, and to my country lost.
But sure the eye of time beholds no name
So blest as thine in all the rolls of fame;
Alive, we hail'd thee with our guardian Gods,
And, dead thou rul'st a King in these abodes.
Talk not of ruling in this dol'rous gloom,
Nor think vain words (he cry'd) can ease my doom;
Rather I chuse laboriously to bear
A weight of woes, and breath the vital air,
A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread;
Than reign the scepter'd monarch of the dead.

113

But say, if in my steps my son proceeds,
And emulates his god-like father's deeds?
If at the clash of arms, and shout of foes,
Swells his bold heart, his bosom nobly glows?
Say if my sire, the rev'rend Peleus reigns
Great in his Pthia, and his throne maintains;
Or weak and old, my youthful arm demands,
To fix the scepter stedfast in his hands?

114

O might the lamp of life rekindled burn,
And death release me from the silent urn!
This arm that thunder'd o'er the Phrygian plain,
And swell'd the ground with mountains of the slain,
Should vindicate my injur'd Father's fame,
Crush the proud rebel, and assert his claim.
Illustrious shade, (I cry'd) of Peleus' fates
No circumstance the voice of fame relates;
But hear with pleas'd attention the renown
The wars and wisdom of thy gallant son:
With me from Scyros to the field of fame
Radiant in arms the blooming Heroe came:
When Greece assembled all her hundred states
To ripen counsels; and decide debates,
Heav'ns! how he charm'd us with a flow of sense,
And won the heart with manly Eloquence!
He first was seen of all the Peers to rise,
The third in wisdom where they all were wise;

115

But when to try the fortune of the day
Host mov'd tow'rd host in terrible array,
Before the van, impatient for the fight,
With martial port he strode, and stern delight;
Heaps strow'd on heaps beneath his fauchion groan'd,
And monuments of dead deform'd the ground.
The time would fail should I in order tell
What foes were vanquish'd, and what numbers fell;
How, lost thro' love, Eurypylus was slain,
And round him bled his bold Cetæan train.

116

To Troy no Heroe came of nobler line,
Or if of nobler, Memnon, it was thine.
When Ilion in the horse receiv'd her doom,
And unseen armies ambush'd in its womb;

117

Greece gave her latent warriors to my care,
'Twas mine on Troy to pour the imprison'd war:
Then when the boldest bosom beat with fear,
When the stern eyes of Heroes dropp'd a tear;
Fierce in his look his ardent valour glow'd,
Flush'd in his cheek, or sally'd in his blood;
Indignant in the dark recess he stands,
Pants for the battle, and the war demands;
His voice breath'd death, and with a martial air
He grasp'd his sword, and shook his glitt'ring spear.
And when the Gods our arms with conquest crown'd,
When Troy's proud bulwarks smok'd upon the ground,
Greece to reward her soldier's gallant toils
Heap'd high his navy with unnumber'd spoils.

118

Thus great in glory from the din of war
Safe he return'd, without one hostile scar;
Tho' spears in iron tempests rain'd around,
Yet innocent they play'd, and guiltless of a wound.
While yet I spoke, the Shade with transport glow'd,
Rose in his majesty and noblier trod;
With haughty stalk he sought the distant glades
Of warrior Kings, and join'd th'illustrious shades.
Now without number ghost by ghost arose,
All wailing with unutterable woes.
Alone, apart, in discontented mood
A gloomy shade, the sullen Ajax stood;
For ever sad with proud disdain he pin'd,
And the lost arms for ever stung his mind;
Tho' to the contest Thetis gave the laws,
And Pallas, by the Trojans judg'd the cause.

119

O why was I victorious in the strife;
O dear-bought honour with so brave a life!
With him the strength of war, the soldiers pride,
Our second hope to great Achilles dy'd!
Touch'd at the sight from tears I scarce refrain,
And tender sorrow thrills in ev'ry vein;
Pensive and sad I stand, at length accost,
With accents mild, th'inexorable ghost.
Still burns thy rage? and can brave souls resent
Ev'n after death? relent, great Shade, relent!
Perish those arms which by the Gods decree
Accurs'd our army with the loss of thee!
With thee we fell; Greece wept thy hapless fates,
And shook astonish'd thro' her hundred states;

120

Not more, when great Achilles prest the ground,
And breath'd his manly spirit thro' the wound.
O deem thy fall not ow'd to man's decree,
Jove hated Greece, and punish'd Greece in thee!
Turn then, oh peaceful turn, thy wrath controul,
And calm the raging tempest of thy soul.
While yet I speak, the shade disdains to stay,
In silence turns, and sullen stalks away.

121

Touch'd at his sour retreat, thro' deepest night,
Thro' hell's black bounds I had pursu'd his flight,
And forc'd the stubborn spectre to reply;
But wond'rous visions drew my curious eye.
High on a throne, tremendous to behold,
Stern Minos waves a mace of burnish'd gold;
Around ten thousand thousand spectres stand
Thro' the wide dome of Dis, a trembling band.
Still as they plead, the fatal lots he rowls,
Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls.
There huge Orion of portentous size,
Swift thro' the gloom a Giant-hunter flies;

122

A pond'rous mace of brass with direful sway
Aloft he whirls, to crush the savage prey;
Stern beasts in trains that by his truncheon fell,
Now grisly forms, shoot o'er the lawns of hell.

123

There Tityus large and long, in fetters bound,
O'erspreads nine acres of infernal ground;
Two rav'nous vulturs furious for their food
Scream o'er the fiend, and riot in his blood,

124

Incessant gore the liver in his breast,
Th'immortal liver grows, and gives th'immortal feast.
For as o'er Panopé's enamel'd plains
Latona journey'd to the Pythian fanes,
With haughty love th'audacious monster strove
To force the Goddess, and to rival Jove.
There Tantalus along the Stygian bounds
Pours out deep groans; (with groans all hell resounds)
Ev'n in the circling floods refreshment craves,
And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves:
When to the water he his lip applies,
Back from his lip the treach'rous water flies.
Above, beneath, around his hapless head,
Trees of all kinds delicious fruitage spread;

125

There figs sky-dy'd, a purple hue disclose,
Green looks the olive, the pomegranate glows,
There dangling pears exalted scents unfold,
And yellow apples ripen into gold;
The fruit he strives to seize: but blasts arise,
Toss it on high, and whirl it to the skies.
I turn'd my eye, and as I turn'd survey'd
A mournful vision! the Sisyphyan shade;
With many a weary step, and many a groan,
Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone;

126

The huge round stone, resulting with a bound,
Thunders impetuous down, and smoaks along the ground.
Again the restless orb his toil renews,
Dust mounts in clouds, and sweat descends in dews.
Now I the strength of Hercules behold,
A tow'ring spectre of gigantic mold,
A shadowy form! for high in heav'n's abodes
Himself resides, a God among the Gods;

127

There in the bright assemblies of the skies,
He Nectar quaffs, and Hebe crowns his joys.
Here hovering ghosts, like fowl, his shade surround,
And clang their pinions with terrific sound;
Gloomy as night he stands, in act to throw
Th'aerial arrow from the twanging bow.
Around his breast a wond'rous Zone is rowl'd,
Where woodland monsters grin in fretted gold,
There sullen Lions sternly seem to roar,
The bear to growl, to foam the tusky boar:
There war and havoc and destruction stood,
And vengeful murther red with human blood.
Thus terribly adorn'd the figures shine,
Inimitably wrought with skill divine.
The mighty ghost advanc'd with awful look,
And turning his grim visage, sternly spoke.
O exercis'd in grief! by arts refin'd!
O taught to bear the wrongs of base mankind!
Such, such was I! still tost from care to care,
While in your world I drew the vital air;
Ev'n I who from the Lord of thunders rose,
Bore toils and dangers, and a weight of woes;
To a base Monarch still a slave confin'd,
(The hardest bondage to a gen'rous mind!)

129

Down to these worlds I trod the dismal way,
And drag'd the three-mouth'd dog to upper day;
Ev'n hell I conquer'd, thro' the friendly aid
Of Maia's offspring and the martial Maid.
Thus he, nor deign'd for our reply to stay,
But turning stalk'd with giant strides away.
Curious to view the Kings of antient days,
The mighty dead that live in endless praise,
Resolv'd I stand; and haply had survey'd
The god-like Theseus, and Perithous' shade;

130

But swarms of spectres rose from deepest hell,
With bloodless visage, and with hideous yell,
They scream, they shriek; sad groans and dismal sounds
Stun my scar'd ears, and pierce hell's utmost bounds.
No more my heart the dismal din sustains,
And my cold blood hangs shiv'ring in my veins;
Lest Gorgon rising from th'infernal lakes,
With horrors arm'd, and curls of hissing snakes,
Should fix me, stiffen'd at the monstrous sight,
A stony image, in eternal night!
Strait from the direful coast to purer air
I speed my flight, and to my mates repair.

131

My mates ascend the ship; they strike their oars;
The mountains lessen, and retreat the shores;
Swift o'er the waves we fly; the fresh'ning gales
Sing thro' the shrouds, and stretch the swelling sails.
 

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.

Satyr 8. lib. 1.
------ Scalpere terram
Unguibus, & pullam divellere mordicus agnam
Cœperunt; cruor in fossam confusus, ut inde
Manes elicerent, animas responsa daturas.

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)

Εξ ου τα παντα χυτλα, και πασαι μυχων
Πηγαι, κατ' Αυσονιτιν ελκονται χθονα.

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

Cimmerion etiam obscuras accessit ad arces,
Queis nunquam candente dies apparuit ortu,
Sive supra terras Phæbus, seu curreret infra.

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.

Haud procul egestâ scrobibus tellure duabus
Sacra facit: cultrosque in guttura velleris atri
Conjicit; & patulas perfundit sanguine fossas,
Tum super invergens liquidi carchesia Bacchi,
Æneaque invergens tepidi carchesia lactis, &c.

Thus also Statius:

------ Tellure cavatâ
Inclinat Bacchi latices, & munera verni,
Lactis, & Actæos imbres, &c.

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.

Georg. 4. 470. At cantu commotæ Erebi de sedibus imis
Umbræ ibant tenues, simulacraque luce carentum,
Matres, atque viri, defunctaque corpora vitâ
Magnanimum heroum, pueri, innuptæque puellæ,
Impositique rogis juvenes, &c.

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.

------ Lacerum crudeliter ora
Deiphobum vidi, &c.

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.

At regina Pyrâ------

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.

Why charge mankind on heav'n their own offence,
And call their woes the crime of providence?
Blind! who themselves their miseries create,
And perish by their folly, not their fate.

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,

Tuque invade viam, vaginâque eripe ferrum.

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

At Danaûm proceres, Agamemnoniæque Phalanges
Ut vidêre virum, fulgentiaque arma per umbras
Ingenti trepidare metu.

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.

------ Οι ουκ ισασι θαλασσαν.

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:

Who ne'er knew salt, nor heard the billows roar.

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.

Εισοκε τους αφικωμαι, οι ουκ ισασι Φιλιππον.

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

A painted wonder, flying on the main.

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.

The objects I could first distinctly view,
Were tall streight trees which on the waters flew;
Wings on their sides instead of leaves did grow,
Which gather'd all the breath the winds could blow:
And at their roots grew floating Palaces, &c.

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,

Ωμοις αθηροβρωτον οργανον φερων.

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.

Eustathius.

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

Grac'd with such honours as become the Great.

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.

Ter conatus ibi collo dare brachia circum;
Ter frustra comprensa manus effugit imago,
Par levibus ventis, volucrique simillima somno.

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.

Informis Lethi nodum trabe nectit ab altâ.
Αψαμαμενη βροχον αιπυν αφ' αψηλοιο μελαθρου.

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.

Και Χλωριν ειδον περικαλλεα, την ποτε Νελευς.
Γημεν εον δια Καλλος, επει πορε μυρια ενδα.

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.

Mira Periclimeni mors est, cui posse figuras
Sumere quas vellet, rursusque reponere sumptas,
Neptunus dederat, &c.

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

------ Αλλοτε δ' αυτε μελισσων αγλαα φυλα
Αλλοτε δεινος Οφις ------

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.

The Gods they challenge, and affect the skies.

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

Had they to manhood grown, the bright abodes
Of Heav'n had shook, and Gods been heap'd on Gods.

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

Hic & Aloidas geminos immania vidi
Corpora, qui manibus magnum rescindere cœlum
Aggressi, superisque Jovem detrudere regnis.

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.

Eustathius.

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,

Ter sunt conati imponere Pelion Ossæ,
Scilicet atque Ossæ frondosum imponere Olympum.

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.

Eustathius.

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

Here in the court, or yonder on the waves.

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,

------ Ev'n now the gales
Call thee aboard, and stretch the swelling sails.

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,

So by my realms due homage should be paid,
A wealthy Prince is loyally obey'd.

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.

Σοι δ' ετι μεν μορφη, επεωνε επι δε φρενες εσθλαι.

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.

Ædepol, næ nos æquè sumus omnes invisæ viris
Propter paucas, quæ omnes faciunt dignæ ut videamur malo.

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.

If in the melancholy shades below
The flames of friends and lovers cease to glow,
Yet mine shall sacred last; mine undecay'd
Burn on thro' death, and animate my shade.

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.

------ Teuthrantæusque Caïcus,

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

Saxosumque sonans Hypanis, Mysusque Caïcus.

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:

Χητειοι κτεινοντο γυναικων, εινεκα δωρων.

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.

------ Λακεδαιμονα Κητωεσσαν.

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.

Cassandra's love he sought, with boasts of pow'r,
And promis'd conquest was the profer'd dow'r.

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.

Virgil.
Stant terra defixæ hastæ, passimque soluti
Per campos pascuntur equi, quæ cura nitentes
Pascere equos, eadem sequitur tellure repostos.

And again.

------ Curæ non ipsâ in morte relinquunt.

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.

Part on the plain, or in the air sublime
Upon the wing, or in swift race contend,
As at th'Olympian games or Pythian fields:
Part curb the fiery steeds, or shun the goal
With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form.
Others with vast Typhæan rage more fell
Rend up both rocks, and hills, and ride the air
In whirlwind: Hell scarce holds the wild uproar.
------ others more mild
Retreated in a silent valley, sing
With notes Angelical to many an harp,
Their own heroic deeds—
The song was partial, but the harmony
Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment
The thronging audience, &c.

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.

—The dismal tales that Poets tell
Are verify'd on earth, and not in hell;
No Tantalus looks with a fearful eye,
Or dreads th'impending rock to crush him from on high;
No Tityus, torn by Vulturs, lies in hell,
Nor could the lobes of his rank liver swell
To that prodigious mass, for their eternal meal.
But he's the Tityus, who, by love oppress'd,
Or tyrant passion preying on his breast,
And ever anxious thoughts, is robb'd of rest.
The Sisyphus is he, whom noise and strife
Seduce from all the soft retreats of life,
To vex the government, disturb the laws,
Drunk with the fumes of popular applause,
He courts the giddy croud to make him great,
And sweats and toils in vain, to mount the sov'reign seat
For still to aim at pow'r, and still to fail,
Ever to strive, and never to prevail,
What is it, but in reason's true account,
To heave the stone against the rising mount?

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.

Tantalus a labris sitiens fugientia captat
Flumina. quid rides? mutato nomine de te
Fabula narratur. congestis undique saccis
Indormis inhians, & tanquam parcere sacris
Cogeris ------

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.

Λααν βασταζοντα πελωριον αμφοτερησιν,
Ητοι ο μεν σκηριπτομενος χερσιν τε ποσιν τε,
Λααν ανω ωθεσκε ------

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.

Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone.

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

[OMITTED]

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.

Μη τεχνησαμενος, μη δ' Αλλο τι τεχνησαιτο

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?