University of Virginia Library

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Qui domitor Trojæ, multorum providus urbes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Laudibus arguitur vini vinosus Homerus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Statius, Sylv.

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

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

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

—Tacitum sylvas inter-reptare salubreis.

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

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

Η μεν, γαρ αυτης οιδεν οντα οδ' οιεται.

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

Thus also Menander,

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

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

Aristotle in his Rhetoric is also of this opinion;

Αριστα περι των τεκνων κρινουσιν αι γυναικες.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Γυναι γυναξι κοσμον η σιγη φερει.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This book opens with the first appearance of Telemachus upon the stage of action. And Bossu observes the great judgment of the Poet, in beginning with the transactions of Ithaca in the absence of Ulysses: By this method he sets the conduct of Telemachus, Penelope, and the Suitors, in a strong point of light; they all have a large share in the story of the Poem, and consequently ought to have distinguishing characters. It is as necessary in Epic Poetry, as it is on the Theatre, to let us immediately into the character of every person whom the Poet introduces: This adds perspicuity to the story, and we immediately grow acquainted with each personage, and interest our selves in the good or ill fortune that attends them thro' the whole relation.

Telemachus is now about twenty years of age: In the eleventh book, the Poet tells us, he was an infant in the arms of his mother when Ulysses sail'd to Troy; that Heroe was absent near twenty years, and from hence we may gather the exact age of Telemachus. He is every where describ'd as a person of piety to the Gods, of duty to his parents, and as a lover of his country: he is prudent, temperate, and valiant: and the Poet well sets off the importance of this young Heroe, by giving him the Goddess of War and Wisdom for his constant attendant.

The Poet describes Telemachus as if he were marching against an enemy, or going to a council of war, rather than to an assembly of Peers in his own country: Two reasons are assign'd for this conduct; either this was the common usage of Princes in those times, or Telemachus might look upon the Suitors as enemies and consequently go to council in arms as against enemies. Eustathius.

This passage has not escap'd the raillery of the Critics; they look upon it as a mean description of a Heroe and a Prince, to give him a brace of dogs only for his guards or attendants: But such was the simplicity of ancient Princes, that except in war they had rarely any attendants or equipage. And we may be confident, Homer copies after the custom of the time, unless we can be so absurd as to suppose, he would feign low circumstances unnecessarily, thro' a want of judgment.

Virgil judg'd otherwise, and thought this circumstance worthy of his imitation.

Achilles is describ'd in the Iliad with the same attendants.

Poetry, observes Dacier, is like Painting, which draws the greatest beauties from the simplest customs: and even in history, we receive a sensible pleasure from the least circumstance that denotes the customs of ancient times. It may be added, that the Poet, as well as the Painter, is obliged to follow the customs of the age of which he writes, or paints: a modern dress would ill become Achilles or Ulysses, such a conduct would be condemned as an absurdity in painting, and ought to be so in poetry.

Homer, says Eustathius, inserts these particularities concerning the family of Ægyptius, to give an air of truth to his story. It does not appear that Ægyptius knew the certainty of the death of Antiphus; (for it is the Poet who relates it, and not the father;) whence, as Dacier observes, should he learn it? he only laments him, according to the prevailing opinion that all the companions of Ulysses were lost with Ulysses.

We are here told, that there never had been any council conven'd in Ithaca, since the departure of Ulysses. The general design and moral of the Odyssey, is to inform us of the mischievous effects which the Absence of a King and Father of a Family produces: We deprive, as Bossu observes, the Poem of its very soul, and spoil the Fable, if we retrench from it the disorders which the Suitors create in the absence of Ulysses, both in his family and dominions. Nothing can give us a greater image of those disorders, than what is here related: What must a kingdom suffer in twenty years, without a Ruler, without a Council to make Laws or punish enormities? Such is the condition of Ithaca: Laertes is superannuated; Penelope oppress'd by the violence of the Suitors; and Telemachus to this time, in his minority.

It is very artful in the Poet to open the assembly by Ægyptius: Telemachus was the person who conven'd it; and being the greatest personage present, it might be expected that he should open the design of it: But to give Telemachus courage, who was young and inexperienc'd, Ægyptius first rises, and by praising the person who had summon'd them (of whom he seems ignorant) gives Telemachus to understand he has friends among the assembly: This he could no other way so safely have done, considering the power of the Suitors. By this means, Telemachus is encouraged to speak boldly, and arraign the disorders of the Suitors with the utmost freedom.

Telemachus here sets the character of Ulysses, as a King, in the most agreeable point of light: He rul'd his people with the same mildness as a father rules his children. This must needs have a very happy effect upon the audience; not only as it shews Ulysses to have been a good Governour; but as it recalls the memory of the happiness they receiv'd from that mild government, and obliquely condemns them of ingratitude who had forgot it. By this method also the Poet interests us deeply in the sufferings of Ulysses; we cannot see a good man and good King in distress, without the most tender emotions.

What Telemachus here says has given offence to the Critics; they think it indecent for a son to say, that he bears with more regret the disorder of his family than the loss of his father; yet this objection will vanish, if we weigh Penelope, Telemachus, and his whole posterity, against the single person of Ulysses.

But what chiefly takes away this objection is, that Telemachus was still in hopes of his father's return: for απωλεσα does not imply necessarily his death, but absence: and then both with justice and decency, Telemachus may say that he grieves more for the destruction of his family, than for the absence of Ulysses.

This passage is ridicul'd by the Critics; they set it in a wrong light, and then grow very pleasant upon it: Telemachus makes a sad outcry because the Suitors eat his sheep, his beeves, and fatted goats; and at last falls into tears. The truth is, the riches of Kings and Princes, in those early ages, consisted chiefly in flocks and cattle; thus Æneas and Paris are describ'd as tending their flocks, &c. and Abraham in the scriptures, as abounding in this kind of wealth.

These Critics would form a different idea of the state and condition of Telemachus, if they consider'd that he had been capable to maintain no fewer than an hundred and eight persons in a manner very expensive for many years; for so many (with their attendants) were the Suitors, as appears from the 16th book; and at the same time he kept up the dignity of his own court, and liv'd with great hospitality.

But it is a sufficient answer to the objections against this passage, to observe, that it is not the expence, but manner of it, that Telemachus laments: This he expressly declares by the word μαψιδιως; and surely a sober man may complain against luxury, without being arraigned of meanness; and against profusion, without being condemned for parsimony.

Eustathius observes, that there was a custom to carry the statue of Themis to the assemblies in former ages, and carry it back again when those assemblies were dissolv'd; and thus Themis may be said to form, and dissolve an assembly. Dacier dislikes this assertion, as having no foundation in antiquity; she thinks that the assertion of Telemachus is general, that he intimates it is Justice alone that establishes the councils of mankind, and that Injustice confounds and brings the wicked designs of men to confusion.

I have follow'd this interpretation, not only as it suits best with the usual morality of Homer, but also as Jupiter is mention'd with Themis; and no such custom is pretended concerning his statue. He is expressly stil'd by the ancients Ζευς αγοραιος. In Sicily there was an Altar of Ζευς αγοραιος, or of Jupiter who presides over Councils. Eustathius from Herodotus.

To understand this passage, we must remember, as Eustathius remarks, that Telemachus is pleading his Cause before the Ithacensians; them he constitutes the Judges of his cause: He therefore prevents an answer which they might make, viz. We are not the men that are guilty of these outrages; Telemachus rejoins, “It were better for me to suffer from your hands; for by your quiescence you make my affairs desperate:” an intimation that they should rise in his defence.

This passage is not one of those, where the Poet can be blam'd for causing a Heroe to weep. If we consider the youth of Telemachus, together with the tenderness agreeable to that time of life; the subjects that demand his concern; the apprehension of the loss of a father; and the desolate state of his mother and kingdom: All these make his readiness to burst into tears an argument, not of any want of spirit in him, but of true sense, and goodness of nature: and is a great propriety, which shews the right judgment of the Poet.

We find Antinous always setting himself in the strongest opposition to Telemachus; and therefore, he is the first that falls by the spear of Ulysses; the Poet observes justice, and as Antinous is the first in guilt, he is the first in punishment. What Antinous says in this speech concerning the treachery of the female servant of Penelope, prepares the way for the punishment Ulysses inflicts on some of the maids in the conclusion of the Poem: This is an act of Poetical justice; and it is as necessary in Epic as in Tragic Poetry, to reward the just, and punish the guilty. Eustathius.

It will be necessary to vindicate the character of Penelope the Heroine of the Poem, from the aspersions of Antinous. It must be confest that she has a very hard game to play, she neither dares consent, nor deny; if she consents, she injures Ulysses, whom she still expects to return; if she denies, she endangers the Throne, and the life of Telemachus, from the violence of the Suitors; so that no other method is left but to elude their addresses.

I must not conceal, what Eustathius has mention'd from some Authors, as Lycophron, &c. who say that Penelope was κασσωριδα, in plain English, an Harlot; and he quotes Herodotus, as affirming that she had a son, named Pan, by Hermes; but the Bishop declares it is all a scandal; and every body must conclude the same, from her conduct, as describ'd in Homer.

To vindicate her in this place, we must consider who it is that speaks: Antinous, an unsuccessful Lover: and what he blames as a crime, is really her glory; he blames her because she does not comply with their desires; and it had been an act of guilt to have comply'd. He himself sufficiently vindicates her in the conclusion of his speech, where he extols her above all the race of womankind: so that the seeming inconsistence of Penelope must be imputed to the necessity of her affairs: she is artful, but not criminal.

The original says, she deceiv'd the Suitors by her messages; a plain intimation, that she us'd no extraordinary familiarities with her Admirers; and thro' the whole course of the Poem she seldom appears in their Assemblies.

It was an ancient custom to dedicate the finest pieces of Weaving and Embroidery, to honour the funerals of the dead: and there were usually wrought by the nearest relations in their life-time. Thus in the 22d Iliad, Andromache laments, that the body of Hector must be exposed to the air, without those ornaments.

------ αταρ τοι ειματ' ενι μεγαροισι κεονται
Λεπτα τε και χαριεντα, τετυγμενα χερσι γυναικων.

And the mother of Euryalus in Virgil, to her son.

------ Nec te tua funera mater
Produxi, pressive oculos, aut vulnera lavi,
Veste tegens, tibi quam noctes festina diesque
Urgebam, & tela curas solabar aniles.

Eustathius observes, that Antinous in the opening of his Speech throws the fault upon Penelope, to engage the favour of the multitude: But being conscious that he had said things which Penelope would resent, he extols her in the conclusion of it. He ascribes an obstinacy of virtue to her, and by this double conduct endeavours to make both Penelope and the multitude his friends.

Telemachus every where speaks with an openness and bravery of spirit; this speech is a testimony of it, as well as his former; he answers chiefly to the dismission of Penelope, says it would be an offence against Heaven and Earth; and concludes with a vehemence of expression, and tells Antinous that such a word, μυθον, shall never fall from his tongue.

The Critics have found fault with one part of the speech, as betraying a spirit of avarice and meanness in Telemachus:

How to Icarius, in the bridal hour,
Shall I, by waste undone, refund the dow'r?

They think it unworthy of Telemachus to make the Dower of Penelope an argument against her dismission, and consequently ascribe his detention of her, not to duty, but to covetousness. To take away this objection, they point the verses in a different manner, and place a stop after αποτινειν, and then the sense runs thus: “I cannot consent to dismiss her who bore me, and nurs'd me in my infancy, while her husband is absent, or perhaps dead; besides, hard would be the Punishment I should suffer, if I should voluntarily send away Penelope to Icarius.

Dacier dislikes this solution, and appeals to the customs of those Ages, to justify her opinion: If a son forc'd away his mother from his house, he was obliged to restore her dower, and all she brought in marriage to her husband: But if she retir'd voluntarily to engage in a second marriage, the dower remain'd with the son as lawful heir. This opinion of Dacier may be confirm'd from Demosthenes in his orations, και μετα ταυτα ανδρος αυτης τελευτησαντος, απολιπουσα τον οικον, και κοσμισαμενη την προικα. Afterwards upon the decease of her husband, leaving his family, and receiving back her portion, &c. The same Author adds, that the reason why the Suitors are so urgent to send away Penelope, is that she may chuse to marry some one of them, rather than return to Icarius; so that Telemachus only takes hold of their argument for her dismission, in order to detain her. They address'd Penelope more for the sake of her riches than her beauty, (for she must be about forty years old) and he tells them, that if he sends her away against her consent, he must restore those riches, which they covet more than the person of Penelope. This I confess is very refin'd; and perhaps it may be sufficient to take off the objection of covetousness in Telemachus, to understand no more than what the words at the first view seem to imply, viz. an abhorrence of their riots, describ'd by Telemachus to have risen to such a degree as to have almost ruin'd his kingdom, and made their demands impossible. I see nothing unnatural or mean in this interpretation, especially if we remember that the prodigious disorders of his family enter into the essence of the Poem. The greater the disorders are, the greater are the sufferings of Ulysses.

There is an ambiguity in the word Father; it may either signify Icarius or Ulysses, as Eustathius observes: but I think the context determines the person to be Ulysses; for Telemachus believes him to be yet living, and consequently might fear his vengeance, if he offer'd any indignity to Penelope.

In the ninth Iliad we are told that the father of Phœnix imprecated the Furies against his son,

In the same book the Furies hear the curses of Althea upon her son,

These passages shew the opinion the Ancients had of the honour due from children to parents, to be such, that they believ'd there were Furies particularly commission'd to punish those who fail'd in that respect, and to fulfil the imprecations made against 'em by their offended parents. There is a greatness in this Idea, and it must have had an effect upon the obedience of the youth. We see Telemachus is full of the sense of it.

Dacier.

This prodigy is usher'd in very magnificently, and the verses are lofty and sonorous. The Eagles are Ulysses and Telemachus; By Jove's command they fly from a mountain's height: this denotes that the two Heroes are inspir'd by Jupiter, and come from the country to the destruction of the Suitors: The eagles fly with wing to wing conjoin'd; this shews, that they act in concert, and unity of councils: At first they float upon the wind; this implies the calmness and secresy of the approach of those Heroes: At last they clang their wings, and hovering beat the skies; this shews the violence of the assault: With ardent eyes the rival train they threat. This, as the Poet himself interprets it, denotes the approaching fate of the Suitors. Then sailing o'er the domes and tow'rs they fly Full toward the East; this signifies that the Suitors alone are not doom'd to destruction, but that the men of Ithaca are involv'd in danger, as Halitherses interprets it.

Nor to the Great alone is death decreed;
We, and our guilty Ithaca must bleed.

See here the natural explication of this prodigy, which is very ingenious! Eustathius, verbatim.

In three lines (observes Eustathius) the Poet gives us the whole Odyssey in Miniature: And it is wonderful to think, that so plain a subject should produce such variety in the process of it. Aristotle observes the simplicity of Homer's platform; which is no more than this: A Prince is absent from his country; Neptune destroys his companions; in his absence his family is disorder'd by many Princes that address his wife, and plot against the life of his only son, but at last after many storms he returns, punishes the Suitors, and re-establishes his affairs: This is all that is essential to the Poem, the rest of it is made up of Episodes. And yet with what miracles of Poetry (speciosa miracula, as Horace stiles them,) has he furnish'd out his Poem?

It has been observ'd, that Homer is the father of Oratory as well as Poetry; and it must be confess'd, that there is not any one branch of it that is not to be found in his Poetry. The Invective, Persuasive, Ironical, &c. may all be gather'd from it. Nothing can be better adapted to the purpose than this speech of Eurymachus: He is to decry the credit of the predictions of Halitherses: he derides, he threats, and describes him as a venal Prophet. He is speaking to the multitude, and endeavours to bring Halitherses into contempt, and in order to it he uses him contemptuously.

It is necessary for the Reader to carry in his mind, that this Assembly consists not only of the Peers, but of the People of Ithaca: For to the People Telemachus here appeals.

It is evident, that the place of the Assembly was at least open to the Air in the upper parts: for otherways how should the Eagles be visible to the Suitors? and so very plainly as to be discover'd to threat them with their eyes? There was no doubt a place set apart for Council, usually in the market: For Telemachus is said to seat himself in his father's throne, in the beginning of this book: But Ulysses had been absent twenty years; and therefore it is evident, that his throne had stood in the same place for the space of twenty years. It is past contradiction, that in Athens and other cities of Greece there were Βουλευτηρια, public Halls for the consultation of affairs.

The name of Mentor is another instance of the gratitude of our Poet's temper, it being the same which belong'd to a friend of his by whom he was entertain'd in Ithaca, during a defluxion on his eyes which seiz'd him in his voyages: and at whose house he is said to have laid the plan of this Poem. This character of Mentor is well sustain'd by his speech, and by the assistance he gratefully gives to young Telemachus on all occasions.

The original says only, “Obey the old man. Eustathius rightly determines, that the expression means Laertes. The Poet loses no opportunity of giving Ulysses an excellent character; this is as necessary as continually to repeat the disorders of the Suitors.

------ Servetur ad imum
Qualis ab incœpto processerit, & sibi constet.

This conduct contributes admirably to the design of the Poem; and when the Poet in the unravelling of his Fable comes to reward and punish the chief actors, we acknowledge his justice in the death of the Suitors, and re-establishment of Ulysses.

The original is not without obscurity: it says, περι Δαιτι: or, in the time of the banquet. Eustathius interprets it, του οινου στρατηγουντος αυτοις, The Wine as it were fighting on their side; and this agrees with what follows.

The design of this speech is to deter the people of Ithaca from rising in the cause of Ulysses: Mentor speaks justly; Leocritus insolently. Mentor sets before them the worth of Ulysses; Leocritus the power of the Suitors: Mentor speaks like a brave man; Leocritus (observes Eustathius) like a coward, who wanting true courage, flies to the assistance of wine to raise a false one.

Perhaps it may be objected, that there is not a sufficient distinction in the characters of the several Suitors; they are all describ'd as insolent voluptuaries. But tho' they agree in this general character, yet there is something distinguishing in the particular persons: Thus Antinous derides, Eurymachus covers villainy with mildness; Antinous is ever the foremost in outrage, Eurymachus generally his second: A greater distinction is neither necessary, nor possible to be represented. What the Poet is to describe, is the insolence of the Suitors, and the disorders they create in his family and kingdom; he is oblig'd to dwell upon these circumstances, because they are essential to his design: and consequently that general resemblance of their characters, is not a fault in the Poet.

The Assembly which was conven'd by Telemachus, is broke up in a riotous manner by Leocritus, who had no right to dissolve it. This agrees with the lawless state of the country in the absence of its King, and shews (says Eustathius) that the Suitors had usurp'd the chief Authority.

There is a fine contraste between the behaviour of Telemachus and that of the Suitors. They return to repeat their disorders and debauches; Telemachus retires to supplicate the Goddess of Wisdom, to assist him in his enterprizes. Thus the Poet raises the character of Telemachus; he has shew'd him to be a youth of a brave spirit, a good Speaker, and here represents him as a person of piety.

This speech of Minerva is suited to encourage a young man to imitate the virtue of his father, and not to suffer himself to be overcome by any appearance of difficulties. She sets his father before his eyes, and tells him, there was never any danger which he durst not encounter; if he should suffer himself to be discouraged, he would prove himself an unworthy son of a brave Father. Dacier. Eustathius.

This speech must be understood ironically: εργον τε επος τε is us'd as before, and has relation to the preceding harangues of Telemachus to the people, and his intended voyage; by way of derision Antinous bids him not trouble his brave Spirit in contriving any more Orations, or in any bold attempt to find out Ulysses; or to act the Orator, or Heroe's part.

The Critics have almost generally condemn'd these pieces of gayety and raillery, as unworthy of heroic Poetry: if ever they are proper, they must be so in the mouths of these Suitors; persons of no serious, or noble characters: Mirth, wine, and feasting is their constant employment; and consequently if they fall into absurdities, they act suitably to their characters. Milton, the best and greatest imitator of Homer, has follow'd him unworthily in this respect; I mean, has debased even this low raillery into greater lowness, by playing upon words and syllables. But in this place the raillery is not without its effect, by shewing the utmost contempt of Telemachus; and surely it is the lowest degree of calamity to be at once oppress'd and despis'd.

It is observable, says Eustathius, that the Poet had in his choice several expedients to bring about the destruction of the Suitors, but he rejects them, and chuses the most difficult method, out of reverence to truth, being unwilling to falsify the Histories of Sparta and Pylos. This has a double effect; it furnishes the Poet with a series of noble incidents; and also gives an air of probability to the story of Ulysses and Telemachus.

The Suitors allot the Palace to Penelope: it being, says Eustathius, the only thing that they cannot consume; and adds, that the expression of the Suitors concerning the labour they should undergo in dividing the substance of Ulysses, shews the wealth and abundance of that Heroe. Dacier has found out an allusion between φονσν in the first speech, and πονον in the second; they differing only in one letter: She calls this a beauty, which she laments she cannot preserve in her translation. She is the only Commentator that ever was quicksighted enough to make the discovery. The words have no relation; they stand at a sufficient distance; and I believe Homer would have thought such trifling unworthy of his Poetry. So that all the honour which accrues from that observation must be ascrib'd (in this case, as in many others) to the Commentator, and not the Author.

Such passages as these have ever furnish'd Critics with matter of raillery: They think such houshold cares unworthy of a King, and that this conduct suits better with vulgar persons of less fortune. I confess, such descriptions now would be ridiculous in a Poet, because unsuitable to our manners. But if we look upon such passages as pictures and exact representations of the old world, the Reader will find a sensible pleasure in them.

It is a true observation, that the Iliad is chiefly suitable to the condition of Kings and Heroes; and consequently fill'd with circumstances in which the greatest part of mankind can have no concern or interest: The Odyssey is of more general use; the story of it is a series of calamities, which concern every man, as every man may feel them. We can bring the sufferings of Ulysses in some degree home to our selves, and make his condition our own; but what private person can ever be in the circumstances of Agamemnon or Achilles? What I would infer from this is, that the Reader ought not to take offence at any such descriptions, which are only mean as they differ from the fashions of the latter ages. In the Iliad, Achilles when he acts in the common offices of life, and not as an Heroe, is liable to the same objection. But if the manners of the antient ages be consider'd, we shall be reconcil'd to the actions of the ancient Heroes; and consequently to Homer.

Euryclea was not properly the Nurse of Telemachus, but of Ulysses, so that she is call'd so not in a strict sense, but as one concern'd in his education from his infancy, and as a general appellation of honour. Telemachus here reserves the best wines for Ulysses; a lesson, (observes Eustathius) that even in the smallest matters we ought to pay a deference to our parents. These occasional and seemingly-trivial circumstances are not without their use, if not as poetical ornaments, yet as moral instructions.

It may be demanded how it was probable, (if possible) that the departure of Telemachus could be conceal'd twelve days from the knowledge of so fond a mother as Penelope? It must be allow'd, that this would not be possible except in a time of such great disorder as the Suitors created: Penelope confin'd herself almost continually within her own apartment, and very seldom appear'd publickly; so that there is no improbability in this relation.

Eustathius makes a criticism upon the words απομνυναι and επομνυναι, the former is used negatively, the latter affirmatively; namely, the former in swearing not to perform a thing, the latter to perform it.

It is probable that this passage of Minerva preparing the Mariners, &c. is thus to be understood: The men of Ithaca, retaining in memory the speech of Telemachus, and believing that what he then said, and now requests, was agreeable to justice; and having as it were his image graven upon their hearts; voluntarily resolve to lend him assiststance: So that Minerva is to be taken allegorically, to imply that it was every person's own Reason that induced him to assist Telemachus. Eustathius.

It may be ask'd why this particularity is necessary, and may it not be thought that such a little circumstance is insignificant? The answer is, that a great deal depends upon this particularity; no less than the discovery of the voyage of Telemachus to the Suitors; and consequently, whatever the Suitors act in order to intercept him takes its rise from this little incident; the fountain is indeed small, but a large stream of Poetry flows from it.

The words in the original are ευδειν and υπνος, which are not to be taken for being asleep, but drowzy; this is evident from the usage of καθευδειν, in the conclusion of the first book of the Iliad, where the signification has been mistaken by most translators: They make Jupiter there to be asleep; tho' two lines afterwards, in the second book, Homer expressly says,

Th'Immortals slumber'd on their thrones above:
All, but the ever-waking eyes of Jove.

It may be ask'd how Minerva can be said to occasion this drowziness in the Suitors, and make them retire sooner than usual? Eustathius replies, that the person who furnish'd the wine supply'd it in greater quantities than ordinary, thro' which wine they contracted a drowziness: In this sense Minerva, or Wisdom, may be said to assist the designs of Telemachus.

This also is an allegory, and implies that the sailors had the experience and art to guide the ship before the winds; but Poetry, that delights to raise every circumstance, exalts it into the marvellous, and ascribes it to the Goddess of Wisdom. Eustathius.

It is observable, that Homer never passes by an opportunity of describing the sea, or a ship under sail; (and in many other places, as well as in this, he dwells largely upon it:) I take the reason to be, not only because it furnish'd him with variety of poetical images, but because he himself having made frequent voyages, had a full Idea of it, and consequently was delighted with it: This is evident from his conduct in the Iliad, where variety of allusions and similitudes are drawn from the Sea, and are not the smallest ornaments of his Poetry.

This custom of libations was frequent upon all solemn occasions, before meat, before sleep, voyages, journeys; and in all religious rites, sacrifices, &c. They were always made with wine, pure and unmix'd, whence ακρατον is a word frequent in ancient Authors. Sometimes they used mixed wine in Sacrifices; but Eustathius says, that this mixture was of wine with wine, and not of wine with water; hence came the distinction of ενσπονδον, and ασπονδον, the unlawful and lawful libation; wine unmix'd was lawful, the mix'd unlawful. Homer in this place uses επιστεφεας κρητηας, or Goblets crown'd with wine; that is, fill'd 'till the wine stood above the brim of the Goblet: they esteem'd it an irreverence to the Gods not to fill the cups full, for then only they esteem'd the libation whole and perfect, ολον και τελειον.

This Book takes up the space of one day and one night: it opens with the morning; the speeches in the Council, with the preparations for the voyage of Telemachus, are the subject of the day; and the voyage is finish'd by the next morning. By this last circumstance we may learn that Ithaca was distant from Pylos but one night's voyage, nay something less, there being some time spent after the setting of the Sun, in carrying the provisions from the Palace to the vessel.

The book consists chiefly in the speeches of Telemachus and his friends, against those of the Suitors. It shews the great judgment of the Poet in chusing this method: hence we see the causes preceding the effects; and know from what spring every action flow'd: we are never at a loss for a reason for every incidents the speeches are as it were the ground-work upon which he builds all that relates to the adventures of Telemachus.

In the Iliad, after the dissolution of the Council in the first book, and the dissention between Agamemnon and Achilles, we immediately see upon what hinge the fable turns. So in the Odyssey, after the Poet has laid before us the warm debates between the Suitors and Telemachus, we immediately expect them to act as enemies: The war is declar'd, and we become judges as well as spectators of the scenes of action. Thus Homer adds the perspicuity of History to the ornaments of Poetry.

The scene is now remov'd from Ithaca to Pylos, and with it a new vein of Poetry is opened: Instead of the riots of the Suitors, we are entertain'd with the wisdom and piety of Nestor. This and the following book are a kind of Supplement to the Iliad; the nature of Epic Poetry requires that something should be left to the imagination of the Reader, nor is the picture to be entirely drawn at full length. Homer therefore, to satisfy our curiosity, gives an account of the fortunes of those great men, who made so noble a figure at the siege of Troy. This conduct also shews his art: Variety gives life and delight; and it is much more necessary in Epic than in Comic or Tragic Poetry sometimes to shift the Scenes, to diversify and embellish the story. But as on the stage the Poet ought not to step at once from one part of the world to a too remote country, (for this destroys credibility, and the auditor cannot fancy himself this minute here, and the next a thousand miles distant) so in Epic Poetry, every removal must be within the degrees of probability. We have here a very easy transition; the Poet carries his Heroe no further than he really might sail in the compass of time he allots for his voyage. If he had still dwelt upon the disorders of the Suitors without interruption, he must grow tiresome; but he artfully breaks the thread of their story with beautiful incidents and Episodes, and reserves the further recital of their disorders for the end of his Poem: By this method we sit down with fresh appetite to the entertainment, and rise at last not cloy'd, but satisfied.

The original calls Heaven πολυχαλκον, or brazen; the reason of it arises either from the Palaces of the Gods being built of brass by Vulcan; or rather the word implies no more than the Stability of Heaven, which for the same reason is in other places call'd σιδηρειον, or fram'd of iron. Eustathius.

It may be ask'd why the Poet is so very particular as to mention that the Pylians were divided into nine assemblies; and may it not seem a circumstance of no importance? Eustathius answers from the Antients, that there were nine cities subject to the power of Nestor: five in Pylos, the rest in Bœotia; the Poet therefore allots one Bank or Theatre to every city, which consisted of 500 men, the whole number amounting to 4500: These cities furnish'd the like complement of men to Nestor for the war at Troy: He sail'd in ninety vessels, and allowing fifty men to each vessel, they amount to that number. Hence it appears that this was a national sacrifice, every city furnish'd nine bulls, and by consequence the whole nation were partakers of it.

Tis was a very solemn sacrifice of the Pylians; How comes it then to pass, that Homer passes it over in one line? Eustathius answers, that the occasion disallows a longer description, and Homer knows when to speak, and when to be silent. He chuses to carry on the adventures of Telemachus, rather than amuse himself in descriptions that contribute nothing to the story; he finds a time of more leisure in the latter part of this book, and there he describes it at length.

They taste the entrails; that is, every person eat a small portion of the sacrifice, and by this method every person became partaker of it.

There is nothing in Homer that shews where this sacrifice was offer'd, whether in a Temple, or in the open air. But Eustathius tells us from Strabo, that it was in the Temple of Samian Neptune, εν ιερω Σαμιου ποσειδωνος.

This sentiment is truly noble, and as nobly expressed: the simplicity of the diction corresponds with that of the thought. Homer in many places testifies the utmost abhorrence of a Lye. This verse is twice repeated in the present book, as well as in some others; and nothing can be stronger in the same view than that of Achilles in the 9th Iliad,

Who dares think one thing, and another tell,
My heart detests him as the gates of hell.

There is some obscurity in the Greek expression, and the ancient Critics have made it more obscure by their false interpretations; they imagine that the Poet only meant to say that Telemachus was the legitimate son of Penelope and Ulysses.

Dacier very justly condemns this explication, as unworthy of Homer; and gives us a more plain and natural interpretation: viz. “You were not born in despight of the Gods, that is, you are well made, and of a good presence, you have good inclinations, and in a word, your birth is happy.” She explains τραφεμεν after the same manner: “You were not educated in despight of “the Gods;” that is, “the Gods have blessed your education:” This explication seems to be just, and answers perfectly the design of Minerva; which was to give a decent assurance to Telemachus. You are a person, says the Goddess, of a good presence, and happy education, why then should you be ashamed to appear before Nestor?

It is with pleasure that I read such passages in an Author of so great antiquity, as are pictures of the simplicity of those heroic ages: It is the remark of Eustathius, that Pisistratus the son of a King does not seat these strangers upon purple Tapestry, or any other costly furniture, but upon the skins of beasts, that had nothing to recommend them but their softness; being spread upon the sand of the sea shores.

This whole passage pleases me extremely; there is a spirit of true Devotion, Morality and good Sense in it; and the decency of behaviour between Nestor and Telemachus is describ'd very happily: Nestor shews great benevolence to Telemachus; Telemachus great reverence to Nestor: the modesty of the one, and the humanity of the other, are worthy of our observation. We see the same picture of Nestor in the Odyssey that was drawn of him in the Iliads, with this only difference, that there he was a Counsellor of War, here he is painted in softer colours, ruling his people in peace, and diffusing a spirit of piety thro' his whole territories. He had now surviv'd the war of Troy almost ten years; and the Gods reward the old age of this wise and religious Prince with peace and happiness.

Since Minerva here mentions the name of Telemachus in her prayer; how comes it to pass, that Nestor is at a loss to know Telemachus? Minerva sat close by Nestor; he must therefore be suppos'd to hear the prayer; and yet in the following lines he enquires who these strangers are? We can scarce imagine Nestor ignorant that the son of Ulysses was named Telemachus, there being so strict a friendship between Nestor and Ulysses. Perhaps therefore Minerva pray'd in secret mentally; or perhaps Nestor might not take notice of what was not addrest immediately to him, and consequently make enquiry about it for the greater certainty.

If we form our images of persons and actions in ancient times, from the images of persons and actions in modern ages, we shall fall into great mistakes: Thus in the present passage, if we annex the same idea of Pyracy, as it was practis'd three thousand years past, to Pyracy as it is practis'd in our ages; what can be a greater affront than this enquiry of Nestor? But, says Eustathius, Pyracy was formerly not only accounted lawful, but honourable. I doubt not but Thucydides had this passage in view, when he says, that the ancient Poets introduce men enquiring of those who frequent the sea, if they be Pyrates, as a thing no way ignominious. Thucydides tells us in the same place, that all those who liv'd on the sea-coast, or in the Islands, maintain'd themselves by frequent inroads upon unfortify'd towns, and if such pyracies were nobly perform'd, they were accounted glorious. Herodotus also writes, that many of the ancients, especially about Thrace, thought it ignominious to live by labouring the ground, but to live by pyracy and plunder was esteem'd a life of honour. Eustathius.

Eustathius observes the modesty of Nestor: Telemachus had ascrib'd the fall of Troy in a great measure to Nestor; but Nestor speaks not in particular of himself, but is content with his share of glory in common with other warriors; he speaks in the plural number, and joins all the Greeks as in the war, so in the glory of it. Nestor mentions the sufferings of the Greeks by sea, as well as by land, during the siege of Troy: To understand this, it is necessary to remember, that the Greeks made many expeditions against other places during the war, both by sea and land, as appears from many passages in the Iliads, particularly from what Achilles says in the ninth book.

I have observ'd, that the Poet inserts into the Odyssey several incidents that happen'd after the fall of Troy, and by that method agreeably diversifies his Poetry, and satisfies the curiosity of the Reader. Eustathius remarks here, that he gives a title of honour to all the Heroes he mentions, except only to Achilles. Achilles had been the occasion of the sufferings and death of many of the Greeks by his anger, and obstinacy in refusing to obey Agamemnon; therefore while Nestor is lamenting the calamities of the Greeks, he passes over Achilles without any honourable mention, who had so greatly added to their sufferings. But I think this remark chimerical: one may as well say Achilles needed no Epithet to distinguish him.

It is with pleasure I see the old man dwell upon the praise of Antilochus: The father enlarges upon the fame of the son; he gives him four epithets of glory; and while Ajax is only praised as a warrior, Antilochus is great and good, excellent in the standing fight, or swift to pursue an enemy. Longinus has observ'd upon the beauty of this passage.

Nestor speaks of Ulysses as an inseparable friend; and it shews an excellent disposition in them both, to be rivals, and yet without envy. But the art of Nestor is remarkable, he first gives the character to Ulysses of being superior in wisdom to all the Greeks; and yet at last he finds a way secretly to set himself on a level with him, if not above him: We ever, says he, thought the same thoughts, and were ever of the same sentiments: which tho' it may imply that they were of equal wisdom; yet there is room left for it to signify, that Ulysses always assented to the wisdom of Nestor. Eust.

There is a remarkable difference between βουλη and αγορα. The former denotes a select number of men assembled in council; the latter a public assembly where all the people were present. Eustathius.

Nestor in modesty conceals the reason of the anger of the Goddess; out of respect to Ajax the Locrian who was then dead: The crime of Ajax was the violation of Cassandra even in the temple of Minerva before her image. But why should the Goddess be angry at others for the crime of Ajax? this is because they omitted to punish the offender. If Ajax was criminal in offending, others are criminal for not punishing the offence.

The crime of Ajax is mention'd in Virgil. Æn. 1.

------ Pallasnè exurere classem
Argivum, atque ipsos potuit submergere ponto,
Unius ob noxam, & furias Ajacis Oilei? &c.
Could angry Pallas with revengeful spleen
The Grecian navy burn, and drown the men?
She for the fault of one offending foe,
The bolts of Jove himself presum'd to throw.
Dryd.

Virgil borrow'd the description of the punishment of Ajax from the fourth of the Odyssey.

It may seem at first view, that the Poet affirms the night to be an improper season to convene a Council. This is not his meaning; In the Iliad, there are several councils by night; nay εν νυκτι βουλη is used proverbially to express the best concerted councils. What therefore Nestor here condemns is the calling not a select, but public assembly of the soldiers in the night, when they are in no danger of an enemy, and when they are apt to fly into insolence thro' wine, and the joy of victory. The night is then undoubtedly an ill chosen season: because the licence of the soldier cannot be so well restrain'd by night as by day. Eustathius.

It may be ask'd why Nestor condemns so solemnly this Heroe, calling him Νηπιος, when he describes him in so pious an action? this is not because the Gods are implacable, for as Homer himself writes, Στρεπτοι δε και θεοι αυτοι; but because he vainly imagin'd that they would so soon be appeas'd, without any justice done upon the offender: Θεον ραδιως παλιντροπον are the words of Eustathius.

It is with great address that Nestor relates the return of Ulysses to Agamemnon; he ascribes it not directly to Ulysses, but to his associates in the voyage; he mollifies it, in complaisance to Telemachus. But Nestor, according to Dacier, conceals the true reason of his return; it was not to please Agamemnon, but out of fear of the Goddess Minerva, whose statue he had taken by force from Troy: to appease that Goddess, he returns to join in sacrifice with Agamemnon. Eustathius.

It may be ask'd how Nestor attain'd this knowledge of the evils which the Gods were preparing? Eustathius ascribes it to his great Wisdom, which gave him an insight into futurity. Dacier with more reason tells us, that Nestor knew that Minerva had been offended, and might consequently apprehend a punishment was to be inflicted for the offence.

Eustathius observes from the Antients, that the Poet with great judgment suspends, and breaks off this relation of Nestor; by this method he has an opportunity to carry Telemachus to other countries, and insert into his Poem the story of Menelaus and Helen: This method likewise gives an air of probability to what he writes; the Poet seems afraid to deceive, and when he sends Telemachus to other parts for better intelligence, he seems to consult truth and exactness.

The son of Achilles was nam'd Neoptolemus, by others Pyrrhus; his story is this: When he had reach'd Thessaly with the Myrmidons of Achilles, by the advice of Thetis he set fire to his vessels; and being warn'd by Helenus, from the oracles, to fix his habitation where he found a house whose foundations were iron, whose walls were wood, and whose roof was wool; he took his journey on foot, and coming to a certain lake of Epirus, he found some persons fixing their spears with the points downwards into the earth, and covering the tops of them with their cloaks, and after this manner making their tents: he look'd upon the Oracle as fulfill'd, and dwelt there. Afterwards having a son by Andromache the wife of Hector, he nam'd him Molossus, from whom the region took the name of Molossia. From this country are the Molossi canes, mention'd by Virgil. Eustathius.

Nestor introduces the mention of Ægysthus very artfully; it is to raise an emulation in Telemachus to revenge Ulysses, as Orestes had Agamemnon; it has the intended effect, and we find that Telemachus dwells upon his story with a virtuous envy; yet at the same time with great modesty: Eustathius gives a different reading in

------ εσσομενοισι πυθεσθαι,

or,

------ εσσομενοισιν αοιδην.

both the expressions are used in Homer, the preference is therefore submitted to the Reader.

The words in the original are, following the voice of some God, that is, some Oracle: Homer does not confine the expression either to a good or bad sense, but the context plainly shews, that they must be understood in a bad sense; namely to imply, that the people had recourse to pretended Oracles to justify their rebellion. This is evident from what follows, where Nestor encourages Telemachus to expect that Ulysses may punish them for their crimes, αποτισεται ελθων— if there had been no crime, there ought to be no punishment.

The Poet shews his great judgment in preparing the Reader for the destruction of the Suitors: that great Catastrophe is manag'd by few hands, and it might seem incredible that so few could destroy so many: the Poet therefore, to give an air of truth to his action, frequently inculcates the assistance of Pallas, which must at least shew, that such a great exploit is not impossible to be executed by stratagems and valour: It is by art, not strength, that Ulysses conquers.

All Greece in arms.

This is spoken in a general sense, and comprehends not only the subjects of Ulysses, or even the Pylians and Spartans, but implies that all the Greeks would rise in the cause of Ulysses. What the Suitors had spoken scoffingly in the preceding book, viz. that Telemachus was sailing to Pyle or Sparta for supplies, appears in this not to be impracticable; so that it was choice and not necessity that determin'd the Poet to make use of no such easy expedients for the destruction of the Suitors.

It may be added, that the very nature of Epic Poetry, and of the Odyssey in particular, requires such a conduct: In the Iliad Achilles is the chief agent, and performs almost all the great actions; Æneas is painted after the same manner by Virgil; the one kills Hector, the other Turnus, both which are the decisive actions: It was equally necessary to exalt the character of Ulysses, by bringing him into difficulties from which he is personally to extricate himself: This the Poet sufficiently brings about by refusing all the easy methods for his re-establishment, because the more difficult ways are most conducive to the honour of his Heroe: Thus as Achilles and Æneas kill Hector and Turnus with their own hands, so the Suitors fall chiefly by the hand of Ulysses. It is necessary for the Heroe of the Poem to execute the decisive action, for by this method the Poet compleats his character, his own greatness surmounts all difficulties, and he goes off the stage with the utmost advantage, by leaving a noble character upon the mind of the spectators.

It may be ask'd how an expression so near blasphemy, as Eustathius observes, could escape a person of such piety as Telemachus? 'Tis true, the Poet makes Minerva herself correct it; but yet the objection remains, viz. how could Telemachus speak it? I think since the Poet himself condemns it, we may give it up as an indecency in Telemachus; it is natural for men in despair (and that was the condition of Telemachus) to use a vehemence of expression, and this might transport Telemachus beyond the bounds of prudence. The only possible way that occurs to me to take off the impiety, is to have recourse to Destiny: It was the opinion of the Ancients, that the Gods could not alter Destiny: and then Telemachus may mean no more, than that it was decreed by the Destinies that Ulysses shall return no more, so the Gods themselves could not restore him.

Thus in the 15th of the Metamorphosis, Venus in vain applies to the Gods to preserve Julius Cæsar.

------ Superosque movet, qui rumpere quanquam
Ferrea non possunt veterum decreta sororum, &c

And a little lower Jupiter says to Venus,

------ Sola insuperabile fatam,
Nata, movere paras?

Nothing can be better imagin'd to encourage Telemachus, than what the Poet here delivers: She sets Agamemnon in opposition to Ulysses: Agamemnon made a speedy voyage to his country, and there fell by treachery; Ulysses has long been absent, but yet is happier than Agamemnon: the Gods perhaps reserve him for better fortunes, at least nothing can be concluded from his long absence, and this is sufficient to teach Telemachus not to despair. Eustathius.

What Minerva here says justifies the remark I made, that what Telemachus seem'd to have spoken rashly, may be soften'd, if not vindicated, by having recourse to Destiny: It is evident from this passage, that Destiny was superior to the power of the Gods; otherwise Minerva speaks as blasphemously as Telemachus: For what difference is there between saying, that the Gods cannot preserve even these they love from death, and saying that the Gods could not save Ulysses? Why therefore may not the words of Telemachus be thought to have a respect to Destiny?

I am of opinion, that the Poet had something further in view by putting these words into the mouth of Minerva: The words of Telemachus, if taken grossly, might appear shocking to so pious a person as Nestor, and make an ill impression upon him to the disadvantage of Telemachus; Minerva therefore artfully explains it, and softens the horrour of it by reconciling it to the Theology of those ages.

Telemachus here puts several questions, as it were in a breath, to Nestor: and Platarch observes upon this passage, that he who enquires any thing of an old man, tho' the old man himself has no concern in the story, wins his heart at once; and incites a person, who is upon all occasions very willing to discourse. He introduces this as an instance of the art Telemachus uses, in adapting himself by his questions to the temper of the person with whom he converses: He puts together, continues he, several questions upon several subjects, which is more judicious than to confine his answer to a single interrogatory, and by that method deprive Nestor of one of the most pleasant enjoyments of old age, I mean the pleasure of talking. Plutarch. Symposiac.

The Poet here tells us that Nestor was now in his fourth generation: Ovid took the word γενεα to signify an hundred years; but then Nestor must have been above three hundred years old. Others with more probability understand it to signify a generation, or such a portion of time in which any race of men flourish together, which is computed to be about thirty years. I refer the Reader to the Note upon the 33d verse in the first book of the Iliad, for the particular age of Nestor. According to that computation, he must now be about ninety five years of age.

Telemachus does not ask this question out of curiosity, but with great judgment; he knows there were designs against his life, as well as there had been against Agamemnon; he therefore asks it, that he may learn how to defeat them; chiefly to instruct himself how best to assist his father upon his return, by aiding him in escaping the snares of the Suitors. Dacier.

Homer thro' the whole Odyssey speaks much in honour of the Art which he himself loved, and in which he so eminently excell'd: From these and other passages we may learn the state of Poetry in those ages: “Poets (says Eustathius) were rank'd in the class of Philosophers; and the Ancients made use of them as Præceptors in Music and Morality.” Strabo quotes this very passage as an instance of the excellence of Poetry in forming the soul to worthy actions: Ægysthus could not debauch Clytemnestra, 'till he banish'd the Poet, who was her guide and instructor.

Various are the conjectures of the Ancients about the name of the Bard here celebrated: Some, says Eustathius, tell us, it was Chariades, some Demodocus, some Glaucus, &c. but I pass them over, because they are conjectures.

There were many degrees of these αοιδοι; some were αοιδοι θρηνων, others αοιδοι περι γαμους: But such Bards as are here mention'd were of an higher station, and retain'd as instructors by Kings and Princes.

I cannot omit one remark of Eustathius: he tells us, that some persons write that these αοιδοι had their names from hence, ως αιδοια μη εχοντες; exactly resembling the modern Italian singers: Madam Dacier is not to be forgiven for passing over a remark of such importance; If this be true, it makes a great difference between the ancient and modern Poets, and is the only advantage I know we have over them.

There is a fine moral couch'd in the story of the Bard and Clytemnestra; it admirably paints the advantage we draw from wise companions for the improvement of our Virtues: Clytemnestra was chaste because her instructor was wise: His wisdom was an insuperable guard to her modesty. It was long before she yielded; virtue and honour had a long contest: but she no sooner yielded to adultery, but she assisted in the murder of her husband; from whence we may draw another moral, that one vice betrays us into another; and when once the fences of honour are thrown down, we become a prey to every passion. Dacier.

Here is a surprizing mixture of religion and impiety: Ægysthus, upon the accomplishment of so great a crime as adultery, returns thanks to the Gods by oblations, as if they had assisted him in the execution of it. Nestor dwells upon it at large, to shew that Ægysthus greatly aggravated his guilt by such a piece of impious devotion. Dacier.

Homer calls the darts of Apollo αγανα, or gentle; to signify that those who dye thus suddenly, die without pain.

Dacier complains that some Critics think Homer worthy of blame for enlarging upon so mean a person as a pilot. It is a sufficient answer to observe, that arts were in high esteem in those times, and men that were eminent in them were in great honour. Neither were arts then confin'd as in these ages to mean personages: no less a person than Ulysses builds a vessel in the sequel of the Odyssey; so that this is a false piece of delicacy. If Homer be culpable, so is Virgil; he gives the genealogy of Palinurus, as well as Homer of Phrontes. Virgil's description is censur'd as too long, Homer concludes his in seven lines; and lastly, Virgil's Episode has been judg'd by the Critics to be an unnecessary ornament, and to contribute nothing to the Poem: Homer relates the death of Phrontis, to introduce the dispersion of the fleet of Menelaus; the fleet might well be scatter'd, when it wanted so excellent a pilot.

Homer does not amuse us by relating what became of these companions of Menelaus; he omits this judiciously, and follows the thread of his story: Menelaus is the person whom the Poet has in view; he therefore passes over the story of his companions, to carry on the fable of the Poem by leading us directly to Menelaus.

In the original it is, The wind and water carry'd them to Ægyptus. Homer by Ægyptus means the river Nile, and then it is always used in the masculine gender; the region about it took its name from the river Ægyptus, this is always used in the feminine gender; but the country had not receiv'd that name in the days of Homer.

What Dacier adds to this observation, may assist in determining the dispute concerning the priority of Homer and Hesiod: Hesiod makes mention of the river Nilus; if therefore it be true that Ægyptus had not been called by the name of Nilus in the times of Homer, it is a demonstration that Hesiod was posterior to Homer; otherwise he could not have been acquainted with any other name but that of Ægyptus.

There is a different reading in this place: instead of απ' Αθηναων, some write απο Φωκηων; for Orestes was educated by Strophius King of Phocis, and father of Pylades: The Ancients reconcile the difference, by saying that Orestes might be sent from Phocis to Athens for his education, and returning thence to his own country, might revenge the death of his father Agamemnon; so that although he was first bred up in Phocis, he was afterwards a sojourner in Athens. Eustathius.

It must be confest, that Nestor greatly exaggerates this description: Homer himself tells us, that a ship may sail in five days from Crete to Ægypt; wherefore then this Hyperbole of Nestor? It might perhaps be to deter Telemachus from a design of sailing to Crete, and he through his inexperience might believe the description. It may be added, that what Nestor speaks concerning the flight of birds, may be only said to shew the great distance of that sea: Nay, by a favourable interpretation it may be reconcil'd to truth; the meaning then must be this: Should a person observe that sea a whole year, he would not see one bird flying over it, both because of the vastness and dreadfulness of it; and perhaps the whole of this might arise from the observation, that this sea is not frequented by birds. This is wholly and almost literally taken from Eustathius; and if we add to this the ignorance of the sea and sea-affairs in those ages, we shall the less wonder to hear so wise a man as Nestor describing it with so much terror; Navigation is now greatly improv'd, and the Moderns sail further in a month, than the Ancients could in a year; their whole art consisting chiefly in coasting along the shores, and consequently they made but little way.

Various are the reasons which Eustathius reports concerning this oblation of the tongues at the conclusion of the sacrifice. It was to purge themselves from any evil words they might have utter'd; or because the tongue was reckon'd the best part of the sacrifice, and so reserv'd for the completion of it; or they offer'd the tongue to the Gods, as witnesses to what they had spoken. I omit the rest as superfluous. They had a custom of offering the tongues to Mercury, because they believed him the giver of Eloquence. Dacier expatiates upon this custom. The people, says she, might fear, lest thro' wine and the joy of the festival they might have utter'd some words unbecoming the sanctity of the occasion: by this sacrifice of the tongues, they signify'd that they purged away whatever they had spoken amiss during the festival; and ask'd in particular pardon of Mercury, who presided over discourse, to the end they might not carry home any uncleanness which might stop the blessings expected from the sacrifice.

Eustathius shews the difference between εορται, festivals, and θυσιαι, or sacrifices: in the former it was customary to spend the whole night in wine and rejoicing: In the latter, this was reckon'd an unlawful custom, thro' the fear of falling into any indecencies thro' wine. He likewise gives another reason of this injunction, by telling us that it was the custom to offer sacrifices to the celestial Powers in the day, and even to finish them about the setting of the sun; and that those who dealt in incantations perform'd their sacrifices to the infernal powers by night, and finish'd them before sun-rising. Either of these reasons sufficiently explains the words of the Goddess; and the former carries in it an excellent moral, that particular care should be taken in our acts of devotion, not to turn religion into impiety.

This passage gives us a full insight into the manners of these hospitable ages; they not only kept a treasury for bowls or vases of gold or silver, to give as ξεινηια, or gifts of hospitality, but also a wardrobe of various habits and rich furniture, to lodge and bestow upon strangers. Eustathius relates, that Tellias of Agrigentum was a person of so great hospitality, that five hundred horsemen coming to his house in the winter season, he entertain'd them, and gave every man a cloak and a tunic. This laudable custom prevailed, and still prevails, in the eastern countries: it was the practice of Abraham of old, and is at this day of the Turks, as we may learn from their Caravansaries, erected for the reception of travellers. And yet Dacier observes, that a French Critic has shew'd so ill a taste as to ridicule this passage. “Telemachus (says that Author) being entertain'd by Nestor, intimates his intention of returning to lodge on ship-board with his companions: but Nestor detains him, by asking if he thought he had not quilts or coverlets to give him a Night's lodging; Upon this Telemachus goes to bed in a resounding gallery, and Nestor in a bed which his wife made ready for him.” The noblest things are most liable to burlesque, by perverting their meaning; as some pictures, by varying the position, represent a man or a monster. He is very severe upon the resounding gallery, which in truth means no more than very lofty or elevated, and by consequence very noble and magnificent.

The Poet makes a double use of these words of the Goddess; she gives an air of probability to her excuse, why she should not be press'd to stay; and at the same time Homer avoids the absurdity of introducing that Goddess at Sparta, Menelaus and Helen are celebrating the nuptials of their son and daughter: Minerva is a Virgin Deity, and consequently an enemy to all nuptial ceremonies.

But it may be necessary to observe who these Caucons are: we find in the tenth book the Caucons mention'd as auxiliaries to Troy: There Dolon says

The Carians, Caucons, the Pelasgian host,
And Leleges encamp along the coast.

Are these Caucons the same with those here mention'd? Eustathius informs us, that there was a people of Triphyly, between Elis and Pylos, named Caucons: But Strabo says, that the whole race is now extinct, and that these here mention'd are of Dymæa, and take their name from the river Caucon: whereas those in the Iliad are Paphlagonians: they were a wandring nation, and consequently might be the same people originally, and retain the same name in different countries.

It may be ask'd why Nestor is in such a surprize at the discovery of the Goddess: It is evident from the Iliad, that he had been no stranger to such intercourses of the Deities; nay, in this very book Nestor tells us, that Ulysses enjoy'd almost the constant presence of Minerva; insomuch that Sophocles, the great imitator of Homer, relates, that he knew the Goddess by her voice, without seeing her. Eustathius answers, that the wonder of Nestor arose not from the discovery of that Deity, but that she should accompany so young a person as Telemachus: After her departure, the old man stood amaz'd, and look'd upon that Heroe as some very extraordinary person, whom in such early years the Goddess of War and Wisdom had vouchsafed to attend. This interpretation agrees perfectly with what Nestor speaks to Telemachus.

I will take this opportunity to obviate an objection that may be made against all interposition of the Gods in assisting the Heroes of the Odyssey: It has been thought by some Critics a disparagement to them to stand in continual need of such supernatural succour: If two persons were engaged in combat, and a third person should immediately step in to the assistance of one of the parties, and kill the adversary, would it not reflect upon the valour of his friend who was so weak as to want such assistance? Why, for instance, should Jupiter help Æneas to kill Turnus? Was not he brave enough to fight, and strong enough to conquer his enemy by his own prowess? and would not Turnus have kill'd Æneas with the same assistance? It is therefore a disparagement to the actors, thus continually to supply the defects of a Heroe, by the power of a Deity.

But this is a false way of arguing, and from hence it might be inferr'd, that the love and favour of a Deity serves only to make those whom he assists, and those who depend upon such assistance, appear weak, impotent, cowardly, and unworthy to be conquerors. Can any doubt arise whether the love and favour of a God be a disparagement or honour to those whom he favours? According to these Critics, we should find the character of a perfect Heroe in an impious Mezentius, who acknowledges no God but his own arm and his own sword: 'Tis true, the objection would be just, if the Heroe himself perform'd nothing of the action; or if when he were almost conquer'd by the superior valour of his enemy, he ow'd his life and victory to Gods and Miracles: But the Heroe always behaves himself in all his actions, as if he were to gain success without the assistance of the Deity; and the presence of the Gods is so order'd, that we may retrench every thing that is miraculous, without making any alteration in the action or character of the human personages. Thus in the instance of Æneas and Turnus, tho' Jupiter favours Æneas, yet Æneas is painted in stronger colours of fortitude, he appears superior, as a man unassisted, and able to conquer Turnus; and consequently the favour of Jupiter makes no alteration in the action or character of Æneas.

There is likewise a wide difference between the assistance of a Man, and of a God: The actions of men belong only to the performers of those actions; but when a Deity assists us by inspiring us with strength and courage, the actions we perform are really our own, and the more he favours us, the more glory he gives us: so that the assistance of man eclipses, but the assistance of a God exalts, our glory. Thus, for instance, when Achilles is pursuing Hector, he charges the Greeks to keep off from Hector; their assistance might lessen his glory: but when Pallas offers her assistance, he immediately embraces it as an Honour, and boasts of it as such to Hector. I have been large upon this objection, because the Reader ought to carry it in his memory thro' the whole Poem, and apply it to every action, in which any share is ascribed to any Deity. See Bossu more at large concerning this objection.

We have here an ancient custom recorded by the Poet; a King places himself before the gate of his Palace upon a seat of marble, worn smooth by long use, says Eustathius, or perhaps smooth'd exquisitely by the hand of the workman. What I would chiefly observe is, that they placed themselves thus in public for the dispatch of justice: We read in the scripture of Judges sitting in the gate; and that this procedure of Nestor was for that purpose is probable from the expression, He sat in the seat where Neleus [μηστωρ, or Consiliarius,] used to sit, (which seems to express his wisdom in the discharge of justice.) Nestor is also describ'd as bearing his sceptre in his hand, which was never used but upon some act of regality, in the dispatch of justice, or other solemn occasions. Perhaps, says Dacier, these seats or thrones might be consecrated with oil, to draw a reverence to the seats of Justice as by an act of religion; but I rather judge (adds she) that no more is meant than to express the shining of these thrones, they being undoubtedly made of marble.

Would I indulge my fancy in a conjecture, I might suppose that the famous tyrant Pisistratus was descended, or borrow'd his name from this son of Nestor. Herodotus informs us, as Eustathius observes, that all the Pisistrati were originally Pylians. If this be true, we have a very strong evidence that Homer is not all fiction, but that he celebrates the great men of those ages with reality, and only embellishes the true story with the ornaments of Poetry.

The Author of the Parallel quotes this passage to prove that Homer was ignorant of the Mechanic arts: We have here, says he, a Gilder with his anvil and hammer; but what occasion has he for an anvil and hammer in the art of a Gilder? Boileau has excellently vindicated Homer from this objection, in his reflections upon Longinus; This Gilder was a Gold-beater: Nestor, we see, furnish'd the gold, end he beat it into leaves, so that he had occasion to make use of his anvil and hammer; the anvil was portable, because the work was not laborious. Our modern travellers assure us, that it is at this day the practice in the eastern regions, as in Persia, &c. for the artists in metals to carry about with them the whole implements of trade, to the house of the persons where they find employment; it is therefore a full vindication of Homer, to observe that the gold this artist used in gilding, was nothing but-gold beat into fine leaves.

It may be ask'd in what sense Minerva can be said to come to the sacrifice? Eustathius answers, that the Ancients finding the inclinations of men to be bent incontinently upon pleasures, to oblige them to use them moderately, distinguish'd times, ordain'd sacrifices, and representing the Gods in the forms of men, brought them to use those pleasures with discretion; they taught them that the Gods came down to their libations and sacrifices, to induce them to govern their conversation with reverence and modesty: Thus Jupiter and the other Gods in the Iliads, and Neptune in the Odyssey, are said to feast with the Æthiopians.

If I might be pardon'd a conjecture, I would suppose, that Minerva may in another sense be said to come to the sacrifice; I mean by her image or statue: and what may seem to confirm this opinion, is what Diodorus relates in his third book concerning the above-mention'd Æthiopians; they carry'd about the statues of Jupiter and the other Gods twelve days, during which time the Gods were said to be gone to the Æthiopians: and if the Gods may be said to come to the Æthiopians by their statues: why may not the same be said of Minerva, from the introduction of her statue among the Pylians? So that the appearance of the Goddess may possibly mean the appearance of her statue.

Nestor here makes use only of the ministry of his sons; the reason of it is, because it was reckon'd honourable to serve in the performance of sacrifice, this being in some sense an attending upon the Gods: or because it was the practice of those ages for great persons to do those offices with their own hands, which in the latter have been perform'd by servants.

Eustathius reports a saying of Antigonus, who observing his son behaving himself imperiously to his subjects, “Know'st thou not, “says he, that Royalty itself is but illustrious servitude!” an intimation that he himself was but a servant of the public, and therefore should use his servants with moderation.

But the true reason of Nestor's assisting in the sacrifice is, because Kings anciently had the inspection of religion, and Priesthood was join'd to Royalty, according to that of Virgil,

Rex Anins, rex idem hominum Phœbique sacerdos.

I have kept the meaning of the word in the original, which signifies prayers made with loud cries, ολολυξαν. ολολυγη, says Hesychius, is, φωνη γυναικων ην ποιουνται εν τοις ιεροις ευχομεναι, the voice of women, which they make at sacrifices in their prayers. But there is still something in it more to the present purpose; the Scholiast upon Æschylus remarks, that this word is not used properly but when apply'd to the prayers offer'd to Minerva; for Minerva is the only Goddess to whom prayers are made with loud cries, she being the Goddess of War; to other Deities they offer prayer with thanksgiving; και γαρ μονη τη Αθηνα δαιμονι ουση πολεμικη ολολυζουσι, τοις δ' αλλοις Θεοις παιωνιζουσι.

Thus also in the sixth book of the Iliads, verse 301.

Αι δ' ολολυγη πασαι Αθηνη χειρας ανεσχον.
They fill the dome with supplicating cries.

And in the present passage in the Odyssey,

------ αι δ' ολολυξαν
Θυγατερες τε, νυοι τε, &c.
Dacier.

It is very necessary to say something about this practice of women bathing and anointing men; it frequently occurs thro' the whole Odyssey, and is so contrary to the usage of the moderns, as to give offence to modesty; neither is this done by women of inferior quality, but we have here a young Princess, bathing, anointing, and cloathing the naked Telemachus. Eustathius indeed tells us, it was undoubtedly by her father's command: but if it was a piece of immodesty, it does not solve the objection, whoever commanded it. I confess it would be immodest in these ages of the world, and the only excuse that occurs to me is, to say that Custom establish'd it. It is in manners, in some degree, as in dress; if a fashion never so indecent prevails, yet no person is ridiculous, because it is fashionable: so in manners, if a practice prevails universally, tho' not reconcilable to real modesty, yet no person can be said to be immodest who comes into it, because it is agreeable to the custom of the times and countries.

I shall lay together what I have further to observe on the conclusion of this book: It is remarkable, that the Poet does not amuse himself in describing the present he receiv'd from Nestor, or the provisions for the journey, or even the journey it self at large; he dispatches the whole in a few lines very judiciously; he carries his Heroe directly to Menelaus, who is to furnish many incidents that contribute to the design of the Poem, and passes over other matters as unnecessary.

We have here likewise a piece of poetical Geography, and learn that it is exactly two days journey from Pyle to Lacedæmon.

This book takes up three days; the first is spent in the enquiries Telemachus makes of Nestor concerning Ulysses; the two last in the morning sacrifice at Pylos, and in the journey of Telemachus to Lacedæmon; so that five days have now pass'd since the opening of the Poem. I have said nothing about the sacrifice, tho' it be the most exact description of the sacrifices as practis'd by the Ancients, perhaps extant in any Author; I refer to the observations upon the first book of the Iliad.

I would here remark that the three first books are written with the utmost simplicity, there has been no room for such exalted strokes of Poetry as are to be found in the Iliad, or in the future parts of the Odyssey: But this is not owing to the decay of genius in Homer, as some Critics have affirm'd, (who look upon the Odyssey as bearing marks of his declining years,) but to the nature of the subject. The characters of Achilles and Ulysses are both very great, but very different. The Iliad consists of battles, and a continual commotion; the Odyssey in Patience and Wisdom: and consequently the style of the two Poems must be as different as the characters of the two Heroes. A noble fountain of Poetry opens in the next book, and flows with an uninterrupted course almost thro' the whole Odyssey.