University of Virginia Library

Verse 3. With Shouts the Trojans .] The Book begins with a fine Opposition of the Noise of the Trojan Army to the Silence of the Græcians. It was but natural to imagine this, since the former was compos'd of many different Nations, of various Languages and Strangers to each other; the latter were more united in their Neighbourhood, and under Leaders of the same Country. But as this Observation seems particularly insisted upon by our Author (for he uses it again in the fourth Book, V. 430.) so he had a farther Reason for it. Plutarch in his Treatise of reading the Poets, remarks upon this Distinction, as a particular Credit to the military Discipline of the Greeks. And several ancient Authors tell us, it was the Manner of the Barbarians to encounter with Shouts and Outcries; as it continues to this Day the Custom of the Eastern Nations. Perhaps these Clamours were only to encourage their Men, instead of martial Instruments. I think Sir Walter Raleigh says, there never was a People but made use of some sort of Musick in Battel: Homer never mentions any in the Greek or Trojan Armies, and it is scarce to be imagined he would omit a Circumstance so poetical without some particular Reason. The Verb Σαλπιζω which the modern Greeks have since appropriated to the sound of a Trumpet, is used indifferently in our Author for other Sounds, as for Thunder in the the 21st Iliad, V. 388. Αμφι δε σαλπιγξεν μεγας ουρανος ------. He once names the Trumpet Σαλπιγ(/ς in a Simile, upon which Eustathius and Didymus observe that the use of it was known in the Poet's Time, but not in that of the Trojan War. And hence we may infer that Homer was particularly careful not to confound the Manners of the Times he wrote of, with those of the Times he liv'd in.

Verse 7. The Cranes embody'd fly.] If Wit has been truly describ'd to be a Similitude in Ideas, and is more excellent as that Similitude is more surprizing; there cannot be a truer kind of Wit than what is shewn in apt Comparisons, especially when composed of such Subjects as having the least Relation to each other in general, have yet some Particular that agrees exactly. Of this Nature is the Simile of the Cranes to the Trojan Army, where the Fancy of Homer flew to the remotest Part of the World for an Image which no Reader could have expected. But it is no less exact than surprizing. The Likeness consists in two Points, the Noise and the Order; the latter is so observable as to have given some of the Ancients occasion to imagine the embatteling of an Army was first learn'd from the close manner of Flight of these Birds. But this Part of the Simile not being directly express'd by the Author, has been overlook'd by some of the Commentators. It may be remark'd that Homer has generally a wonderful Closeness in all the Particulars of his Comparisons, notwithstanding he takes a Liberty in his Expression of them. He seems so secure of the main Likeness, that he makes no scruple to play with the Circumstances; sometimes by transposing the Order of them, sometimes by super-adding them, and sometimes (as in this Place) by neglecting them in such a manner as to leave the Reader to supply them himself. For the present Comparison, it has been taken by Virgil in the tenth Book, and apply'd to the Clamours of Soldiers in the same manner.

Verse 26. The beauteous Paris came, In Form a God.] This is meant by the Epithet Θεοειδης, as has been said in the 24th Note on the first Book. The Picture here given of Paris's Air and Dress, is exactly correspondent to his Character; you see him endeavouring to mix the fine Gentleman with the Warriour; and this Idea of him Homer takes care to keep up, by describing him not without the same Regard when he is arming to encounter Menelaus afterwards in a close Fight, as he shews here where he is but preluding and flourishing in the Gaiety of his Heart. And when he tells us in that Place that he was in danger of being strangled by the Strap of his Helmet, he takes notice that it was πολυκεστος, embroider'd.

Verse 37. So joys a Lion if the branching Deer, Or Mountain Goat.] The old Scholiasts refining on this Simile will have it that Paris is compar'd to a Goat on account of his Incontinence, and to a Stag for his Cowardice: To this last they make an Addition which is very ludicrous, that he is also liken'd to a Deer for his Skill in Musick, and cite Aristotle to prove that Animal delights in Harmony, which Opinion is alluded to by Mr. Waller in these Lines,

But upon the whole, it is whimsical to imagine this Comparison consists in any thing more, than the Joy which Menelaus conceiv'd at the sight of his Rival, in the hopes of destroying him. It is equally an Injustice to Paris, to abuse him for understanding Musick, and to represent his Retreat as purely the Effect of Fear, which proceeded from his Sense of Guilt with respect to the particular Person of Menelaus. He appear'd at the Head of the Army to challenge the boldest of the Enemy: Nor is his Character elsewhere in the Iliad by any means that of a Coward. Hector at the end of the sixth Book confesses, that no Man could justly reproach him as such. Nor is he represented so by Ovid (who copy'd Homer very closely) in the end of his Epistle to Helen. The Moral of Homer is much finer: A brave Mind however blinded with Passion is sensible of Remorse as soon as the injur'd Object presents itself; and Paris never behaves himself ill in War, but when his Spirits are depress'd by the Consciousness of an Injustice. This also will account for the seeming Incongruity of Homer in this Passage, who (as they would have us think) paints him a shameful Coward, at the same time that he is perpetually calling him the divine Paris, and Paris like a God. What he says immediately afterwards in answer to Hector's Reproof, will make this yet more clear.

Verse 47. As when a Shepherd.] This Comparison of the Serpent is finely imitated by Virgil in the second Æneid.

But it may be said to the Praise of Virgil, that he has apply'd it upon an Occasion where it has an additional Beauty. Paris upon the sight of Menelaus's Approach, is compar'd to a Traveller who sees a Snake shoot on a sudden towards him. But the Surprize and Danger of Androgeus is more lively, being just in the reach of his Enemies before he perceiv'd it; and the Circumstance of the Serpent's rouzing his Crest, which brightens with Anger, finely images the shining of their Arms in the Night-time, as they were just lifted up to destroy him. Scaliger criticizes on the needless Repetition in the Words παλινορσος and ανεχωρησεν, which is avoided in the Translation. But it must be observ'd in general, that little Exactnesses are what we should not look for in Homer; the Genius of his Age was too incorrect, and his own too fiery to regard them.

Verse 53. As God-like Hector .] This is the first Place of the Poem where Hector makes a figure, and here it seems proper to give an Idea of his Character, since if he is not the chief Heroe of the Iliad, he is at least the most amiable. There are several Reasons which render Hector a favorite Character with every Reader, some of which shall here be offer'd. The chief Moral of Homer was to expose the ill Effects of Discord; the Greeks were to be shewn disunited, and to render that Disunion the more probable, he has designedly given them mixt Characters. The Trojans on the other hand were to be represented making all Advantages of the others Disagreement, which they could not do without a strict Union among themselves. Hector therefore who commanded them, must be endu'd with all such Qualifications as tended to the Preservation of it; as Achilles with such as promoted the contrary. The one stands in Contraste to the other, an accomplish'd Character of Valour unruffled by Rage and Anger, and uniting his People by his Prudence and Example. Hector has also a Foil to set him off in his own Family; we are perpetually opposing in our Minds the Incontinence of Paris, who exposes his Country, to the Temperance of Hector who protects it. And indeed it is this Love of his Country which appears his principal Passion, and the Motive of all his Actions. He has no other Blemish than that he fights in an unjust Cause, which Homer has yet been careful to tell us he would not do, if his Opinion were followed. But since he cannot prevail, the Affection he bears to his Parents and Kindred, and his desire of defending them, incites him to do his utmost for their Safety. We may add that Homer having so many Greeks to celebrate, makes them shine in their turns, and singly in their several Books, one succeeding in the Absence of another: Whereas Hector appears in every Battel the Life and Soul of his Party, and the constant Bulwark against every Enemy: He stands against Agamemnon's Magnanimity, Diomed's Bravery, Ajax's Strength, and Achilles's Fury. There is besides, an accidental Cause for our liking him from reading the Writers of the Augustan Age, especially Virgil, whose Favorite he grew more particularly from the time when the Cæsars fancy'd to derive their Pedigree from Troy.

Verse 55. Unhappy Paris , &c.] It may be observ'd in Honour of Homer's Judgment, that the Words which Hector is made to speak here, very strongly mark his Character. They contain a warm Reproach of Cowardice, and shew him to be touch'd with so high a Sense of Glory, as to think Life insupportable without it. His calling to mind the gallant Figure which Paris had made in his Amours to Helen, and opposing to it the Image of his Flight from her Husband, is a Sarcasm of the utmost Bitterness and Vivacity. After he has named that Action of the Rape, the Cause of so many Mischiefs, his insisting upon it in so many broken Periods, those disjointed Shortnesses of Speech,

That hasty manner of Expression without the Connexion of Particles, is (as Eustathius remarks) extreamly natural to a Man in Anger, who thinks he can never vent himself too soon. That Contempt of outward Shew, of the Gracefulness of Person, and of the Accomplishments of a Courtly Life, is what corresponds very well with the War-like Temper of Hector; and these Verses have therefore a Beauty here which they want in Horace, however admirably he has translated them, in the Ode of Nereus's Prophecy.

&c.

Verse 72. And both her Warlike Lords.] The Original is Νυον ανδρων αιχμηταων. The Spouse of Martial Men. I wonder why Madam Dacier chose to turn it Alliée à tant de braves guerriers, since it so naturally refers to Theseus and Menelaus, the former Husbands of Helena.

Verse 80. Thy curling Tresses, and thy silver Lyre.] It is ingeniously remark'd by Dacier, that Homer who celebrates the Greeks for their long Hair [καρηκομοωντας Αχαιους] and Achilles for his Skill on the Harp, makes Hector in this Place object them both to Paris. The Greeks nourished their Hair to appear more dreadful to the Enemy, and Paris to please the Eyes of Women. Achilles sung to his Harp the Acts of Heroes, and Paris the Amours of Lovers. The same reason which makes Hector here displeas'd at them, made Alexander afterwards refuse to see this Lyre of Paris when offer'd to be shewn to him, as Plutarch relates the Story in his Oration of the Fortune of Alexander.

Verse 83. One avenging Blow.] It is in the Greek, You had been clad in a Coat of Stone. Giphanius would have it to mean stoned to death on the account of his Adultery: But this does not appear to have been the Punishment of that Crime among the Phrygians. It seems rather to signify, destroy'd by the Fury of the People for the War he had brought upon them; or perhaps may imply no more than being laid in his Grave under a Monument of Stones; but the former being the stronger Sense is here followed.

Verse 86. 'Tis just, my Brother.] This Speech is a farther opening of the true Character of Paris. He is a Master of Civility, no less well-bred to his own Sex than courtly to the other. The Reproof of Hector was of a severe Nature, yet he receives it as from a Brother and a Friend, with Candour and Modesty. This Answer is remarkable for its fine Address; he gives the Heroe a decent and agreeable Reproof for having too rashly depreciated the Gifts of Nature. He allows the Quality of Courage its utmost due, but desires the same Justice to those softer Accomplishments, which he lets him know are no less the Favour of Heaven. Then he removes from himself the Charge of want of Valour, by proposing the single Combate with the very Man he had just declined to engage; which having shewn him void of any Malevolence to his Rival on the one hand, he now proves himself free from the Imputation of Cowardice on the other. Homer draws him (as we have seen) soft of Speech, the natural Quality of an amorous Temper; vainly gay in War as well as Love; with a Spirit that can be surprized and recollected, that can receive Impressions of Shame or Apprehension on the one side, or of Generosity and Courage on the other; the usual Disposition of easy and courteous Minds which are most subject to the Rule of Fancy and Passion. Upon the whole, this is no worse than the Picture of a gentle Knight, and one might fancy the Heroes of the modern Romance were form'd upon the Model of Paris.

Verse 108. Much fam'd for gen'rous Steeds, for Beauty more.] The Original is, Αργος ες ιπποβοτον, και Αχαιιδα καλλιγυναικα. Perhaps this Line is translated too close to the Letter, and the Epithets might have been omitted. But there are some Traits and Particularities of this Nature, which methinks preserve to the Reader the Air of Homer. At least the latter of these Circumstances, that Greece was eminent for beautiful Women, seems not improper to be mention'd by him who had rais'd a War on the account of a Grecian Beauty.

Verse 109. The Challenge Hector heard with Joy.] Hector stays not to reply to his Brother, but runs away with the Challenge immediately. He looks upon all the Trojans as disgrac'd by the late Flight of Paris, and thinks not a Moment is to be lost to regain the Honour of his Country. The Activity he shews in all this Affair wonderfully agrees with the Spirit of a Soldier.

Verse 123. Hear all ye Trojan all ye Grecian Bands.] It has been ask'd how the different Nations could understand one another in these Conferences, since we have no mention in Homer of any Interpreter between them? He who was so very particular in the most minute Points, can hardly be thought to have been negligent in this. Some Reasons may be offer'd that they both spoke the same Language; for the Trojans (as may be seen in Dion. Halic. lib. 1.) were of Grecian Extraction originally. Dardanus the first of their Kings was born in Arcadia; and even their Names were generally Greek, as Hector, Anchises, Andromache, Astyanax, &c. Of the last of these in particular Homer gives us a Derivation which is purely Greek in Il. 6. V. 403. But however it be, this is no more (as Dacier somewhere observes) than the just Privilege of Poetry. Æneas and Turnus understand each other in Virgil, and the Language of the Poet is suppos'd to be universally intelligible, not only between different Countries, but between Earth and Heaven itself.

Verse 135. Me too ye Warriors hear, &c.] We may observe what care Homer takes to give every one his proper Character, and how this Speech of Menelaus is adapted to the Laconick; which the better to comprehend, we may remember there are in Homer three Speakers of different Characters, agreeable to the three different kinds of Eloquence. These we may compare with each other in one Instance, supposing them all to use the same Heads, and in the same Order.

The Materials of the Speech are, The manifesting his Grief for the War, with the hopes that it is in his Power to end it; an Acceptance of the propos'd Challenge; an Account of the Ceremonies to be us'd in the League; and a Proposal of a proper Caution to secure it.

Now had Nestor these Materials to work upon, he would probably have begun with a Relation of all the Troubles of the nine Year's Siege which he hop'd he might now bring to an end; he would court their Benevolence and good Wishes for his Prosperity with all the Figures of Amplification; while he accepted the Challenge, he would have given an Example to prove that the single Combate was a wise, gallant, and gentle way of ending the War, practis'd by their Fathers; in the Description of the Rites he would be exceeding particular; and when he chose to demand the Sanction of Priam rather than of his Sons, he would place in Opposition on one side the Son's Action which began the War, and on the other the Impressions of Concern or Repentance which it must by this time have made in the Father's Mind, whose Wisdom he would undoubtedly extol as the effect of his Age. All this he would have expatiated upon with Connexions of the Discourses in the most evident manner, and the most easy, gliding, undisobliging Transitions. The Effect would be, that the People would hear him with Pleasure.

Had it been Ulysses who was to make the Speech, he would have mention'd a few of their most affecting Calamities in a pathetick Air; then have undertaken the Fight with testifying such a chearful Joy, as should have won the Hearts of the Soldiers to follow him to the Field without being desired. He would have been exceeding cautious in wording the Conditions; and solemn rather than particular in speaking of the Rites, which he would only insist on as an Opportunity to exhort both sides to a fear of the Gods, and a strict regard of Justice. He would have remonstrated the use of sending for Priam; and (because no Caution could be too much) have demanded his Sons to be bound with him. For a Conclusion he would have us'd some noble Sentiment agreeable to a Heroe, and (it may be) have enforc'd it with some inspirited Action. In all this you would have known that the Discourse hung together, but its Fire would not always suffer it to be seen in cooler Transitions, which (when they are too nicely laid open) may conduct the Reader, but never carry him away. The People would hear him with Emotion.

These Materials being given to Menelaus, he but just mentions their Troubles, and his Satisfaction in the Prospect of ending them, shortens the Proposals, says a Sacrifice is necessary, requires Priam's Presence to confirm the Conditions, refuses his Sons with a Resentment of that Injury he suffer'd by them, and concludes with a Reason for his Choice from the Praise of Age, with a short Gravity, and the Air of an Apothegm. This he puts in order without any more Transition than what a single Conjunction affords. And the effect of the Discourse is, that the People are instructed by it in what is to be done.

Verse 141. Two Lambs devoted.] The Trojans (says the old Scholiast) were required to sacrifice two Lambs; one Male, of a white Colour, to the Sun, and one Female, and black, to the Earth; as the Sun is Father of Light, and the Earth the Mother and Nurse of Men. The Greeks were to offer a third to Jupiter, perhaps to Jupiter Xenius because the Trojans had broken the Laws of Hospitality: on which account we find Menelaus afterwards invoking him in the Combate with Paris. That these were the Powers to which they sacrific'd, appears by their being attested by Name in the Oath, V. 340.

Verse 153. The Nations hear, with rising Hopes possest.] It seem'd no more than what the Reader would reasonably expect, in the Narration of this long War, that a Period might have been put to it by the single danger of the Parties chiefly concern'd, Paris and Menelaus. Homer has therefore taken care toward the beginning of his Poem to obviate that Objection; and contriv'd such a Method to render this Combate of no effect, as should naturally make way for all the ensuing Battels, without any future Prospect of a Determination but by the Sword. It is farther worth observing, in what manner he has improved into Poetry the common History of this Action, if (as one may imagine) it was the same with that we have in the second Book of Dictys Cretensis. When Paris (says he) being wounded by the Spear of Menelaus fell to the Ground, just as his Adversary was rushing upon him with his Sword, he was shot by an Arrow from Pandarus, which prevented his Revenge in the Moment he was going to take it. Immediately on the sight of this perfidious Action, the Greeks rose in a Tumult; the Trojans rising at the same time, came on, and rescued Paris from his Enemy. Homer has with great Art and Invention mingled all this with the Marvellous, and rais'd it in the Air of Fable. The Goddess of Love rescues her Favourite; Jupiter debates whether or no the War shall end by the Defeat of Paris; Juno is for the Continuance of it; Minerva incites Pandarus to break the Truce, who thereupon shoots at Menelaus. This heightens the Grandeur of the Action without destroying the Verisimilitude, diversifies the Poem, and exhibits a fine Moral; that whatever seems in the World the Effect of common Causes, is really owing to the Decree and Disposition of the Gods.

Verse 165. Mean while to beauteous Helen , &c.] The following Part where we have the first sight of Helena, is what I cannot think inferior to any in the Poem. The Reader has naturally an Aversion to this pernicious Beauty, and is apt enough to wonder at the Greeks for endeavouring to recover her at such an Expence. But her amiable Behaviour here, the secret Wishes that rise in favour of her rightful Lord, her Tenderness for her Parents and Relations, the Relentings of her Soul for the Mischiefs her Beauty had been the Cause of, the Confusion she appears in, the veiling her Face and dropping a Tear, are Particulars so beautifully natural, as to make every Reader no less than Menelaus himself, inclin'd to forgive her at least, if not to love her. We are afterwards confirm'd in this Partiality by the Sentiment of the old Counsellors upon the sight of her, which one would think Homer put into their Mouths with that very view: We excuse her no more than Priam does himself, and all those do who felt the Calamities she occasion'd: And this Regard for her is heighten'd by all she says herself; in which there is scarce a word that is not big with Repentance and Good-nature.

Verse 170. The golden Web her own sad Story crown'd.] This is a very agreeable Fiction, to represent Helena weaving in a large Veil, or Piece of Tapestry, the Story of the Trojan War. One would think that Homer inherited this Veil, and that his Iliad is only an Explication of that admirable Piece of Art. Dacier.

Verse 201. Like Grashoppers.] This is one of the justest and most natural Images in the World, tho' there have been Criticks of so little Taste as to object to it as a mean one. The Garrulity so common to old Men, their Delight in Associating with each other, the feeble Sound of their Voices, the Pleasure they take in a Sun-shiny Day, the Effects of Decay in their Chillness, Leanness, and Scarcity of Blood, are all Circumstances exactly parallel'd in this Comparison. To make it yet more proper to the old Men of Troy, Eustathius has observ'd that Homer found a Hint for this Simile in the Trojan Story, where Tithon was feign'd to have been transform'd into a Grashopper in his old Age, perhaps on account of his being so exhausted by Years as to have nothing left him but Voice. Spondanus wonders that Homer should apply to Grashoppers οπα λειριοεσσαν, a sweet Voice, whereas that of these Animals is harsh and untuneful; and he is contented to come off with a very poor Evasion of Homero fingere quidlibet fas fuit. But Hesychius rightly observes that λειροεις signifies απαλος tener or gracilis, as well as suavis. The Sense is certainly much better, and the Simile more truly preserv'd by this Interpretation, which is here follow'd in translating it feeble. However it may be alledg'd in Defence of the common Versions, and of Madam Dacier's (who has turn'd it Harmonieuse) that tho' Virgil gives the Epithet raucæ to Cicadæ, yet the Greek Poets frequently describe the Grashopper as a musical Creature, particularly Anacreon, and Theocritus Idyl. 1. where a Shepherd praises another's singing by telling him,

It is remarkable that Mr. Hobbes has omitted this beautiful Simile.

Verse 203. These, when the Spartan Fair approach'd.] Madam Dacier is of Opinion there was never a greater Panegyrick upon Beauty than what Homer has found the Art to give it in this Place. An Assembly of venerable old Counsellors, who had suffer'd all the Calamities of a tedious War, and were consulting upon the Methods to put a Conclusion to it, seeing the only Cause of it approaching towards them, are struck with her Charms, and cry out, No wonder! &c. Nevertheless they afterwards recollect themselves, and conclude to part with her for the publick Safety. If Homer had carry'd these old Mens Admiration any farther, he had been guilty of outraging Nature, and offending against Probability. The Old are capable of being touch'd with Beauty by the Eye; but Age secures them from the Tyranny of Passion, and the Effect is but transitory for Prudence soon regains its Dominion over them. Homer always goes as far as he should, but constantly stops just where he ought. Dacier.

The same Writer compares to this the Speech of Holofernes's Soldiers on the sight of Judith, Ch. 10. V. 18. But tho' there be a Resemblance in the Words, the Beauty is no way parallel; the Grace of this consisting in the Age and Character of those who speak it. There is something very gallant upon the Beauty of Helen in one of Lucian's Dialogues. Mercury shews Menippus the Sculls of several fine Women; and when the Philosopher is moralizing upon that of Helen, Was it for this a thousand Ships sail'd from Greece, so many brave Men dy'd, and so many Cities were destroy'd? My Friend (says Mercury ) 'tis true; but what you behold is only her Scull, had you seen her Face you would have been of their Opinion, and have done the very same thing.

Verse 211. The good old Priam .] The Character of a benevolent old Man is very well preserv'd in Priam's Behaviour to Helena. Upon the Confusion he observes her in, he encourages her by attributing the Misfortunes of the War to the Gods alone, and not to her Fault. This Sentiment is also very agreeable to the natural Piety of old Age; those who have had the longest Experience of human Accidents and Events, being most inclin'd to ascribe the Disposal of all things to the Will of Heaven. It is this Piety that renders Priam a Favourite of Jupiter (as we find in the beginning of the fourth Book) which for some time delays the Destruction of Troy; while his soft Nature and Indulgence for his Children makes him continue a War which ruines him. These are the two principal Points of Priam's Character, tho' there are several lesser Particularities, among which we may observe the Curiosity and inquisitive Humour of old Age, which gives occasion to the following Episode.

Verse 219. And say, whar Chief is he?] This View of the Grecian Leaders from the Walls of Troy, is justly look'd upon as an Episode of great Beauty, as well as a Masterpiece of Conduct in Homer; who by this means acquaints the Readers with the Figure and Qualifications of each Heroe in a more lively and agreeable manner. Several great Poets have been engag'd by the Beauty of this Passage to an Imitation of it. In the seventh Book of Statius, Phorbas standing with Antigone on the Tower of Thebes, shews her the Forces as they were drawn up, and describes their Commanders who were neighbouring Princes of Bœotia. It is also imitated by Tasso in his third Book, where Erminia from the Walls of Jerusalem points out the chief Warriours to the King; tho' the latter part is perhaps copied too closely and minutely; for he describes Godfrey to be of a Port that bespeaks him a Prince, the next of somewhat a lower Stature, a third renown'd for his Wisdom, and then another is distinguish'd by the Largeness of his Chest tnd Breadth of his Shoulders: Which are not only the very Particulars, but in the very Order of Homer's.

But however this manner of Introduction has been admir'd, there have not been wanting some Exceptions to a Particular or two. Scaliger asks, how it happens that Priam, after nine Years Siege, should be yet unacquainted with the Faces of the Grecian Leaders? This was an old Cavil, as appears by the Scholia that pass under the Name of Didymus, where it is very well answer'd, that Homer has just before taken care to tell us the Heroes had put off their Armour on this occasion of the Truce, which had conceal'd their Persons 'till now. Others have objected to Priam's not knowing Ulysses, who (as it appears afterwards) had been at Troy on an Embassy. The answer is, that this might happen either from the Dimness of Priam's Sight, or Defect of his Memory, or from the Change of Ulysses's Features since that time.

Verse 227. Before thy Presence.] Helen is so overwhelmed with Grief and Shame, that she is unable to give a direct Answer to Priam without first humbling herself before him, acknowledging her Crime, and testifying her Repentance. And she no sooner answers by naming Agamemnon, but her Sorrows renew at the Name; He was once my Brother! but I am now a Wretch unworthy to call him so.

Verse 236. Great in the War, and great in Arts of Sway.] This was the Verse which Alexander the Great prefer'd to all others in Homer, and which he propos'd as the Pattern of his own Actions, as including whatever can be desired in a Prince. Plut. Orat. de fort. Alex. 1.

Verse 240. Extoll'd the happy Prince.] It was very natural for Priam on this occasion, to compare the declining Condition of his Kingdom with the flourishing State of Agamemnon's, and to oppose his own Misery (who had lost most of his Sons and his bravest Warriours) to the Felicity of the other, in being yet Master of so gallant an Army. After this the Humour of old Age breaks out, in the Narration of what Armies he had formerly seen, and bore a Part in the Command of; as well as what Feats of Valour he had then performed. Besides which this Praise of the Greeks from the Mouth of an Enemy, was no small Encomium of Homer's Countrymen.

Verse 258. From Rank to Rank he moves.] The Vigilance and Inspection of Ulysses were very proper Marks to distinguish him, and agree with his Character of a wise Man no less, than the Grandeur and Majesty before described with that of Agamemnon, as the supreme Ruler; whereas we find Ajax afterwards taken notice of only for his Bulk, as a heavy Heroe without Parts or Authority. This Decorum is observable.

Verse 271. I knew their Persons, &c.] In this View of the Leaders of the Army it had been an Oversight in Homer to have taken no Notice of Menelaus, who was not only one of the Principal of them, but was immediately to engage the Observation of the Reader in the single Combate. On the other hand it had been a high Indecorum to have made Helena speak of him. He has therefore put his Praises into the Mouth of Antenor; which was also a more artful way than to have presented him to the Eye of Priam in the same manner with the rest: It appears from hence what a Regard he has had both to Decency and Variety in the Conduct of his Poem. This Passage concerning the different Eloquence of Menelaus and Ulysses is inexpressibly just and beautiful. The close, Laconick Conciseness of the one, is finely opposite to the copious, vehement, and penetrating Oratory of the other; which is so exquisitely describ'd in the Simile of the Snow, falling fast, and sinking deep. For it is in this the Beauty of the Comparison consists according to Quintilian, l. 12. c. 10. In Ulysse facundiam & magnitudinem junxit, cui orationem nivibus hybernis copiâ verborum atque impetu parem tribuit. We may set in the same Light with these the Character of Nestor's Eloquence, which consisted in Softness and Persuasiveness, and is therefore (in Contradistinction to this of Ulysses) compar'd to Honey which drops gently and slowly: a manner of Speech extremely natural to a benevolent old Man, such as Nestor is represented. Ausonius has elegantly distinguish'd these three kinds of Oratory in the following Verses.

Verse 278. He spoke no more than just the thing he ought.] Chapman in his Notes on this Place and on the second Book, has described Menelaus as a Character of Ridicule and Simplicity. He takes advantage from the word λιγεως here made use of, to interpret that of the Shrillness of his Voice, which was apply'd to the Acuteness of his Sense; He observes that this sort of Voice is a Mark of a Fool; that Menelaus's coming to his Brother's Feast uninvited in the second Book has occasion'd a Proverb of Folly; that the Excuse Homer himself makes for it (because his Brother might forget to invite him thro' much Business) is purely ironical; that the Epithet αρειφιλος which is often apply'd to him, should not be translated warlike, but one who had an Affectation of loving War. In short, that he was a weak Prince, play'd upon by others, short in Speech, and of a bad Pronunciation, valiant only by fits, and sometimes stumbling upon good Matter in his Speeches, as may happen to the most slender Capacity. This is one of the Mysteries which that Translator boasts to have found in Homer. But as it is no way consistent with the Art of the Poet, to draw the Person in whose behalf he engages the World, in such a manner as no Regard should be conceiv'd for him; we must endeavour to rescue him from this Misrepresentation. First then, the present Passage is taken by Antiquity in general to be apply'd not to his Pronunciation, but his Eloquence. So Ausonius in the foregoing Citation, and Cicero de claris Oratoribus: Menelaum ipsum dulcem illum quidem tradit Homerus, sed pauca loquentem. And Quintilian l. 12. e. 10. Homerus brevem cum animi jucunditate, & propriam (id enim est non errare verbis) & carentem supervacuis, Eloquentiam Menelao dedit, &c. Secondly, tho' his coming uninvited may have occasion'd a jesting Proverb, it may naturally be accounted for on the Principle of brotherly Love, which so visibly characterises both him and Agamemnon throughout the Poem. Thirdly, αρειφιλος may import a Love of War, but not an ungrounded Affectation. Upon the whole, his Character is by no means contemptible, tho' not of the most shining Nature. He is called indeed in the 17th Iliad μαλθακος αιχμητης, a soft Warrior, or one whose Strength is of the second rate, and so his Brother thought him when he prefer'd nine before him to fight with Hector in the 7th Book. But on the other hand, his Courage gives him a considerable Figure in conquering Paris, defending the Body of Patroclus, rescuing Ulysses, wounding Helenus, killing Euphorbus, &c. He is full of Resentment for his private Injuries, which brings him to the War with a Spirit of Revenge in the second Book, makes him blaspheme Jupiter in the third, when Paris escapes him, and curse the Grecians in the seventh when they hesitate to accept Hector's Challenge. But this also is qualify'd with a Compassion for those who suffer in his Cause, which he every where manifests upon proper Occasions; and with an Industry to gratify others, as when he obeys Ajax in the seventeenth Book, and goes upon his Errand to find Antilochus, with some other Condescentions of the like nature. Thus his Character is compos'd of Qualities which give him no uneasy Superiority over others while he wants their Assistance, and mingled with such as make him amiable enough to obtain it.

Verse 280. His modest Eyes, &c.] This Behaviour of Ulysses is copy'd by Ovid, Met. 13.

What follows in the Greek translated word for word runs thus: He seem'd like a Fool, you would have thought him in a Rage, or a Madman. How oddly this would appear in our Language I appeal to those who have read Ogilby. The whole Period means no more than to describe that Behaviour which is commonly remarkable in a modest and sensible Man who speaks in publick: His Diffidence and Respect gives him at his first rising a sort of Confusion, which is not indecent, and which serves but the more to heighten the Surprize and Esteem of those who hear him.

Verse 309. Perhaps their Swords.] This is another Stroke of Helen's Concern: The Sense of her Crime is perpetually afflicting her, and awakes upon every occasion. The Lines that follow wherein Homer gives us to understand that Castor and Pollux were now dead, are finely introduc'd and in the Spirit of Poetry; the Muse is suppos'd to know every thing, past and to come, and to see things distant as well as present.

Verse 315. Mean time the Heralds, &c.] It may not be unpleasing to the Reader to compare the Description of the Ceremonies of the League in the following Part, with that of Virgil in the twelfth Book. The Preparations, the Procession of the Kings, and their Congress, are much more solemn and poetical in the latter; the Oath and Adjurations are equally noble in both.

Verse 342. The curliing Hair.] We have here the whole Ceremonial of the solemn Oath, as it was observ'd anciently by the Nations our Author describes. I must take this Occasion of remarking that we might spare our selves the trouble of reading most Books of Grecian Antiquities, only by being well vers'd in Homer. They are generally bare Transcriptions of him, but with this unnecessary Addition, that after having quoted any thing in Verse, they say the same over again in Prose. The Antiquitates Homericæ of Feithius may serve as an Instance of this. What my Lord Bacon observes of Authors in general, is particularly applicable to these of Antiquities, that they write for Ostentation not for Instruction, and that their Works are perpetual Repetitions.

Verse 361. And Age to Age record the signal Day.] ‘Ητε και εσσομενοισι μετ' ανθρωποισι πεληται. This seems the natural Sense of the Line, and not as Madam Dacier renders it, the Tribute shall be paid to the Posterity of the Greeks for ever. I think she is single in that Explication, the Majority of the Interpreters taking it to signify that the Victory of the Grecians and this Pecuniary Acknowledgment should be recorded to all Posterity. If it means any more than this, at least it cannot come up to the Sense Madam Dacier gives it; for a Nation put under perpetual Tribute is rather enslaved, than received to Friendship and Alliance, which are the Terms of Agamemnon's Speech. It seems rather to be a Fine demanded as a Recompence for the Expences of the War, which being made over to the Greeks should remain to their Posterity for ever, that is to say, which they should never be molested for, or which should never be redemanded in any Age as a Case of Injury. The Phrase is the same we use at this Day, when any Purchase or Grant is at once made over to a Man and his Heirs for ever. With this will agree the Scholiast's Note, which tells us the Mulct was reported to have been half the Goods then in the besieg'd City.

Verse 364. The Chief the tender Victims Slew.] One of the grand Objections which the Ignorance of some Moderns has rais'd against Homer, is what they call a Defect in the Manners of his Heroes. They are shock'd to find his Kings employ'd in such Offices as slaughtering of Beasts, &c. But they forget that sacrificing was the most solemn Act of Religion, and that Kings of old in most Nations were also Chief Priests. This, among other Objections of the same kind, the Reader may see answered in the Preface.

Verse 433. Give me, great Jove .] Homer puts a Prayer in the Mouth of Menelaus, but none in Paris's: Menelaus is the Person injur'd and innocent, and may therefore apply to God for Justice; but Paris who is the Criminal, remains silent. Spondanus.

Verse 447. The brittle Steel, unfaithful to his Hand, Broke short—] This Verse is cut to express the Thing it describes, the snapping short of the Sword. 'Tis the Observation of Eustathius on this Line of the Original, that we do not only see the Action, but imagine we hear the Sound of the breaking Sword in that of the Words: Τριχθα τε και τετραχθα διατρυφεν εκπεσε χειρος. And that Homer design'd it, may appear from his having twice put in the Θητα (which was a Letter unnecessary) to cause this Harshness in the Verse. As this Beauty could not be preserv'd in our Language, it is endeavour'd in the Translation to supply it with something parallel.

Verse 479. The Goddess softly shook, &c.] Venus having convey'd Paris in Safety to his Chamber, goes to Helena who had been Spectator of his Defeat, in order to draw her to his Love. The better to bring this about, she first takes upon her the most proper Form in the World, that of a favourite Servant-Maid, and awakens her Passion by representing to her the beautiful Figure of his Person. Next assuming her own Shape she frightens her into a Complyance, notwithstanding all the Struggles of Shame, Fear, and Anger, which break out in her Speech to the Goddess. This Machine is Allegorical, and means no more than the Power of Love triumphing over all the Considerations of Honour, Ease, and Safety. It has an excellent Effect as to the Poem, in preserving still in some degree our good Opinion of Helena, whom we look upon with Compassion as constrain'd by a superior Power, and whose Speech tends to justify her in the Eye of the Reader.

Verse 487. She spoke, and Helen's secret Soul was mov'd.] Nothing is more fine than this; the first Thought of Paris's Beauty overcomes (unawares to herself) the Contempt she had that Moment conceiv'd of him upon his Overthrow. This Motion is but natural, and before she perceives the Deity. When the Affections of a Woman have been thoroughly gained, tho' they may be alienated for a while, they soon return upon her. Homer knew (says Madam Dacier ) what a Woman is capable of, who had once lov'd.

Verse 507. For me, to lawless Love no longer led, I scorn the Coward.] We have here another Branch of the Female Character, which is, to be ruled in their Attaches by Success; Helen finding the Victory belong'd to Menelaus, accuses herself secretly of having forsaken him for the other, and immediately entertains a high Opinion of the Man she had once despised. One may add that the Fair Sex are generally Admirers of Courage, and naturally Friends to great Soldiers. Paris was no Stranger to this Disposition in them, and had formerly endeavour'd to give her that Opinion of himself; as appears from her Reproach to him afterwards.

Verse 515. Should Venus leave thee, ev'ry Charm must fly.] This was the most dreadful of all Threats, Loss of Beauty and of Reputation. Helen who had been Proof to the personal Appearance of the Goddess, and durst even reproach her with Bitterness just before, yields to this, and obeys all the Dictates of Love.

Verse 531. She turn'd away Her glowing Eyes.] This Interview of the two Lovers, plac'd opposite to each other and over-look'd by Venus, Paris gazing on Helena, she turning away her Eyes shining at once with Anger and Love, are Particulars finely drawn, and painted up to all the Life of Nature. Eustathius imagines she look'd aside in the Consciousness of her own Weakness, as apprehending that the Beauty of Paris might cause her to relent. Her bursting out into Passion and Reproaches while she is in this State of Mind, is no ill Picture of Frailty: Venus (as Madam Dacier observes) does not leave her, and Fondness will immediately succeed to these Reproaches.

Verse 543. Ah cease, devinely fair.] This Answer of Paris is the only one he could possibly have made with any Success in his Circumstance. There was no other Method to reconcile her to him but that which is generally most powerful with the Sex, and which Homer (who was Learned every way) here makes use of.

Verse 551. Nor thus I lov'd thee.] However Homer may be admired for his Conduct in this Passage, I find a general Outcry against Paris on this Occasion. Plutarch has led the way in his Treatise of reading Poets, by remarking it as a most heinous Act of Incontinence in him to go to Bed to his Lady in the Day-time. Among the Commentators the most violent is the moral Expositor Spondanus, who will not so much as allow him to say a civil thing to Helen. Mollis, effœminatus, & spurcus ille adulter, nihil de libidine suâ imminutum dicit, sed nunc magis eâ corripi quàm unquam aliàs, ne quidem cùm primùm ea ipsi dedit (Latini ita rectè exprimunt το μισγεσθαι in re venereâ) in Insula Cranaë. Cùm alioqui homines primi concubitûs soleant esse ardentiores. I could not deny the Reader the Diversion of this Remark, nor Spondanus the Glory of his Zeal, who was but two and twenty when it was written. Madam Dacier is also very severe upon Paris, but for a Reason more natural to a Lady. She is of Opinion that the Passion of the Lover would scarce have been so excessive as he here describes it, but for fear of losing his Mistress immediately, as foreseeing the Greeks would demand her. One may answer to this lively Remark, that Paris having nothing to say for himself, was obliged to testify an uncommon Ardour for his Lady, at a time when Compliments were to pass instead of Reasons. I hope to be excus'd if (in Revenge for her Remark upon our Sex) I observe upon the Behaviour of Helen throughout this Book, which gives a pretty natural Picture of the Manners of theirs. We see her first in Tears, repentant, cover'd with Confusion at the sight of Priam, and secretly inclin'd to return to her former Spouse. The Disgrace of Paris increases her Dislike of him; she rails, she reproaches, she wishes his Death; and after all, is prevail'd upon by one kind Compliment, and yields to his Embraces. Methinks when this Lady's Observation and mine are laid together, the best that can be made of them is to conclude, that since both the Sexes have their Frailties, it would be well for each to forgive the other.

It is worth looking backward, to observe the Allegory here carry'd on with respect to Helena, who lives thro' this whole Book in a Whirl of Passions, and is agitated by turns with Sentiments of Honour and Love. The Goddesses made use of to cast the Appearance of Fable over the Story, are Iris and Venus. When Helen is call'd to the Tower to behold her former Friends, Iris the Messenger of Juno (the Goddess of Honour) is sent for her; and when invited to the Bed-Chamber of Paris, Venus is to beckon her out of the Company. The Forms they take to carry on these different Affairs, are properly chosen: the one assuming the Person of the Daughter of Antenor, who press'd most for her being restor'd to Menelaus; the other the Shape of an old Maid, who was privy to the Intrigue with Paris from the beginning. And in the Consequences, as the one inspires the Love of her former Empire, Friends and Country; so the other instills the Dread of being cast off by all if she forsook her second Choice, and causes the Return of her Tenderness to Paris. But if she has a Struggle for Honour, she is in a Bondage to Love; which gives the Story its Turn that way, and makes Venus oft'ner appear than Iris. There is in one Place a Lover to be protected, in another a Love-Quarrel to be made up, in both which the Goddess is kindly officious. She conveys Paris to Troy when he had escap'd the Enemy; which may hint his Love for his Mistress, that hurry'd him away to justify himself before her. She softens and terrifies Helen, in order to make up the Breach between them: And even when that Affair is finished, we do not find the Poet dismisses her from the Chamber, whatever Privacies the Lovers had a mind to: In which Circumstance he seems to draw aside the Veil of his Allegory, and to let the Reader at last into this Meaning of it, that the Goddess of Love has been all the while nothing more than the Passion of it.

Verse 553. When first entranc'd in Cranaë's Isle.] It is in the Original Νησω δ' εν Κραναη εμιγην φιλοτητι, και ευνη. The true Sense of which is express'd in the Translation. I cannot but take notice of a small Piece of Pruderie in Madam Dacier, who is exceeding careful of Helen's Character. She turns this Passage as if Paris had only her Consent to be her Husband in this Island. Pausanias explains this Line in another manner, and tells us it was here that Paris had first the Enjoyment of her, that in Gratitude for his Happiness he built a Temple of Venus Migonitis, the Mingler or Coupler, and that the neighbouring Coast where it was erected was call'd Migonian from μιγηναι, à miscendo. Paus. Laconicis.