The Life of HOMER.

THE Age and Country of Homer have exercis'd the Criticks, more than all his Works, Historians are so much in the dark about these Points; that, if they were to be determin'd by a Ma­jority, 'twould be hard to find two on the same side. In the mean time the Men of his own Profession have made their Advantage of the uncertain Dispute; have been willing their Great Master should be acknowledg'd of Divine Original, as well as their Art: And advis'd the contending Ci­ties to resign the Prize to Heaven. Without doubt the Honour of Poesy is much advanc'd by the Noble Controversie about its Author. And while we own Homer to be Him,

We have the greater Veneration for him, the less we are acquainted with his Source.

If we take the pains to examine all the Ancient and Modern Calculations, and compare them with one another: we find the greater part of the Votes declaring Smyrna the place of his Birth; and fixing the time of it, between One and Two hundred Years before the Building of Rome. But then if we enquire farther into the Particulars; the Prospect grows in­finitely Darker: and he has scarce more Fables in his Poetry, than Authors have confusedly multiplied a­bout his Life.

Indeed Herodotus, who according to his own Ac­countIn Eu­terpe. liv'd but Four hundred Years after him, is said to have drawn up the entire Story of Homer. And we have still among his Works a Piece, which pro­mises us the same favour by its Title; tho' Learn­ed Men have not yet agreed to acknowledge it for Genuine. However, it cannot fail of a civil recepti­on, while it is not manifestly convicted as a Cheat. And, supposing the worst, why may not we as well entertain our selves with the feign'd History of a Person we admire, as with the fancied Statue or Picture, when the true are irrecoverably lost? In those Arts, if one single Mark or Feature be but[Page 3]known, there is ground enough to proceed on in forming the whole Piece. And here, after all the strange Reports, we have still Certainty enough for a Foundation. Therefore, while we stick to the common Notion form'd of him by all the World, of a Blind, Indigent Bard, strowling up and down, and owing all his poor subsistence to his Muse: should the larger Memorials not appear strictly true; yet they must needs seem in some measure pleasant and a­greeable, when they are built on so good a Bottom.

If then we may be allow'd to tell the Tale after Herodotus; His Mother Critheis was born and liv'd at Cuma in Aeolia: where, happening to be with Child by a stol'n Embrace; her Guardian after her Parents Death, to avoid the Publick Scandal, sent her away to a Friend of his at Smyrna; which City had been lately founded by a Colony from Cuma. Within a little time after her remove, going with the Proces­sion of Women to a Feast, celebrated near the River Meles, she was suddenly brought to Bed of HOMER; and gave the Boy the Name of Melesigenes, from the Place of his Birth.

Upon this Accident, she was oblig'd to leave the Gentleman, to whose Care she had been committed by her Guardian; and to set up in Smyrna for herself; getting her Livelihood by her Work. This thriv'd so well with her, that she did not only procure a Competent Maintenance, but could afford to bring up her Son in the Arts and Improvements proper to his Age. Her Industry and Prudence gain'd Her so fair a Character in the City; that in a little time she receiv'd the Addresses of one Phemius, an eminent Teacher of Letters and Musick; and after a long Siege, at last consented to Marry him. The Old Gentleman admir'd the extraordinary Parts of his Son in Law; and taking all the Care in the World of his Education, found him quickly so far before­hand[Page 4]with the rest of the Scholars, as to be able to cope with his Master in his own Art. And in short, at his Death, left him all his Effects, and the Com­mand of the School.

Our Poet, falling to his Hereditary Profession, soon advanc'd it to such a prodigious degree, as to make himself the common Wonder, not only of his Countrymen; but of all the Strangers that resorted to Smyrna; on account of the Great Corn-Trade, for which that City was famous. Among other For­reigners who applied themselves to him for the Bene­fit of his Conversation; one Mentes, the Master of a Vessel, and a Man, as Times went, of tolerable Knowledge and Learning, was so taken with his Company; that by a great many fair Promises, he prevail'd with him to leave his School, and to go a­board for Leucadia, the Merchant's own Country. The Main reason of His Compliance seems to have been the extraordinary desire he had of informing himself in the Manners and Customs of different Peo­ple; which he judged would be of great use to the design he had before form'd, of making Poetry the Business of his Life.

He had now furnish'd himself with abundance of Remarks on the Places occurring in his Travels. When, by reason of his ordinary Infirmity, a terri­ble Humour in his Eyes; not being able to make the whole Voyage, He agreed to be left at Ithaca: being recommended to the care of one Mentor, an Ac­quaintance of the Merchants, and a Man of the greatest Character for Justice and Hospitality, in that Island. And here it was that he pick'd up the main part of his Stories about Ulysses. His Old Friend the Merchant, returning some time after, and finding his Eyes a little better, took him aboard again: and carrying him about to many places, at last landed him at Colophon: where his Indisposition returned so violently as to take away his sight.

[Page 5]He had reason to be tired of rambling now, and accordingly, as well as he could, repair'd home to Smyrna. But it seems he had lost all his Interest there, by leaving the City after so unaccountable a manner. So that finding himself in a fair way to be starv'd, he resolv'd to take a Journey to Cuma, where his An­cestors had liv'd; and to support himself as well as he could upon the Road, by his Begging and by his Muse. But finding his Poetry take very much in a little Town on the Way; He setled there for some time, and got his Victuals by Haranguing the People in Verse. However, supplies did not come in so fast, but that he quickly grew as Hungry as ever: and so took his leave of his Patrons, and went in earnest for Cuma. Here, surprizing the People with his Songs and his Art, he was encourag'd to address the Coun­cil for a maintenance: engaging upon that Conside­ration, to make their City the most Famous in the World.

The greater part of the Magistrates were at first inclin'd to accept his Proposal: only one of the Grave Gentlemen declaim'd bitterly against admit­ing him; and told his Wise Brethren among other things, that if they made a Custom of taking all the [...], or Blind Strowlers, into their Protection, the Town would be fill'd in a little time with a compa­ny of useless Creatures, fit for nothing in the Earth but to breed a Famine.

And to this Accident Homer, ow'd his Name. Af­ter much Debate, this Opinion carried the Day, and was proclaim'd by the Crier; decreeing no support to be given to the Petitioner. Surpriz'd at the sad disappointment, he left Cuma for Phocaea: only wish­ing the Inhabitants at his Departure, that there might never rise a Poet in their Country, to celebrate so ungrateful a People.

[Page 6]Arriving at Phocaea, He plied his old Trade of Poesy; and made a shift by reading and showing his Verses, to keep Body and Soul together. There happen'd then to live in the City, one Thestorides a Raskally sort of a Pedant, whose Talent reach'd no farther, than to teach Children their Letters. How­ever he had sence enough to admire the Excellency of Homer's Art; and thought he should make a fair Prize, if he could trick him out of his Wit. With this Design, he made his Applications after a very ci­vil manner; and promis'd the Poet to allow him a convenient subsistence, upon condition he might have the liberty of transcribing those Pieces, which he had already by him, and whatever he should com­pose farther. Homer was glad of any security from Hunger and Cold; and so, without suspecting any Knavery, agreed to live with the Fellow; and to give him what liberty he pleas'd in relation to his Writings. Under the Care of such a Patron, he is said to have wrote the Lesser Iliad, ^a which began

Thestorides having receiv'd this Poem, and a great many other Pieces, that his Guest put into his Hands, thought it was time for him now to be gone, and to make the best Market of them he could. Accord­ingly, stealing away from Phocaea, he went for Chios; and there opening a School, and publishing Homer's Verses in his own Name, they thriv'd so much bet­ter[Page 7]with him than they had done with their Author, that he quickly found himself possessed of a sufficient stock of Money, and a larger of Reputation. Poor Homer all this while was living hard on his Wit at Phocaea; and seem'd more concern'd to provide him­self necessary sustenance, than to venture an uncer­tain quest after the Thief. But, a little while after, there happen'd some Persons of Learning to arrive there from Chios; who, wondering to hear several pieces of Poetry recited by Homer, that they had been oblig'd with from another hand in their own City; took occasion to give an account of the new Schoolmaster, and what a Trade he drove with his Verses. Homer, understanding where his Sharper was fix'd, resolv'd to take the trouble of unkenneling him; and went presently to the Sea-side to meet with a Vessel for his Expedition. As ill luck would have it, there were no Ships directly bound for Chios: however finding a Fleet ready to Sail to Ery­thraea with Wood, he thought it would not be much out of his way, if he embark'd with them for that City. Approaching the Mariners, he said a great many fine things to them, and easily prevail'd to gain admission into one of the Vessels. As soon as ever he was well seated, he began to show his Gratitude and his Art; and made his Prayer for their good Voyage in such Strains as these.

Whatever his Prayers might signifie, they had a fair Gale to drive them to Erythaea. But here things did not go altogether so well as Homer could wish. For getting a Friend to enquire at the Harbour, he heard of no Ships that were ready to make a Voy­age toward Chios. However to try his Fortune, a little farther, he desir'd to be led along by the Sea­side, something lower, to the Place, where the Fish­ermen us'd to ply with their Boats. Some of these appear'd to be Bound for Chios, but were so Churlish as to deny a poor blind Follow the small favour of a Passage. Homer netled at their rudeness, broke out into his ordinary Revenge of Verse.

Thus disappointed of his Hopes he sat down very me­lancholy on the Shore: when presently after he heard the same Seamen bawling near the Land; they ha­ving been driven back by a Tempest to the Place, where they set out. He did not fail to make his ad­vantage of this Accident, but told them gravely, that the only Cause of their Misfortune was their base refusal of his Request; and engag'd they should have a good Voyage, on condition they'd be more civil, and honestly take him in. The Fishermen, upon second thoughts, easily imagin'd something more than ordinary in the case; and consented to hoist him into the Boat. But as soon as they had cross'd the Sea, they went about their Affairs, and left the Poor Passenger on the Beach to shift for himself. It seems he straggled luckily enough toward Chios; but met with an Adventure in the way, which stop'd his Journy and his Designes. For happening in his Ramble to follow the Cry of a company of Goats, that were feeding in the Country, he lighted at last on the Goat-herd himself: who enquiring into his Condition, and receiving a most lamentable story of Troubles and Afflictions; took pitty on the Distres­sed Stranger, and led him into his Hut. As soon as they had refresh'd themselves with a little Food, Ho­mer beginning a pleasanter Tune, and a Relation of his former Travels; work'd himself into the entire love and esteem of his honest Host, and was oblig'd with a Lodging there for that Night. The next Morning, the Goat-herd though it his Duty to ac­quaint his Master with the good Fortune. Accor­dingly, leaving Homer in the Cottage, with the pro­mise of a speedy return, he repair'd to Bolissus, (a Town hard by) where his Master liv'd, and inform'd[Page 10]him what a Miracle of a Man he had met with; desiring his Advice in the Point how he was to be dispos'd of. The Gentleman had no great inclinati­ons to countenance a blind Vagabond; however he order'd the Stranger to be brought to him, to see if he answer'd his Character. The Goat-herd return­ing to the Field, led Homer into Town, and pre­sented him to his Master. And he, after much talk, receiving full satisfaction of the Wisdom, Ingenuity and Integrity of his Guest; intreated him to take up his Quarters there in the House, and to engage in the Institution of his Sons. Homer accepting the Proposal with a thousand Thanks; immediately fell to his Charge. And here it was that he Compos'd a­bundance of his lighter Pieces, with universal Ap­plause, particularly the Battle of the Froggs and Mice. The report of his residence in the Neighbouring Parts, soon reach'd Chios: Upon which Advice, Thestorides thought fit once more to give him the slip, and was glad to sneak away with the first Fleet, and seek his Fortune.

Homer, however satisfied with his new Patron's Fa­vours, yet could not entirely forget the main design of his Expedition. So that after a considerable stay, he beg'd leave to carry on his first Pursuit, and to proceed for Chios. Here, tho' the Thief was fled who had occasion'd his Journey, yet he found his Labour very well spent, meeting with extraordinary encouragement, and quickly raising himself a flou­rishing School; where he instructed the Youth in his own Verses. And now, being arriv'd at a Hap­piness he never before enjoy'd, a plentiful Fortune; he got him a Wife, and resolv'd to fix in so good Quarters. Under these easie Circumstances he com­pos'd his Nobler Works; taking particular care to make a grateful mention of those Persons, from whom he had receiv'd the chief Obligations of his Life.[Page 11]Thus he brings in Mentor, who had treated him so kindly at Ithaca, as one of the Prime Ministers of Ulysses, and him to whom the Prince when he set forward for the Trojan War, committed the Charge of his Family, and his Concerns. And what's more Honourable, having occasion to introduce Pallas in a Mortal shape, he gives her the form of Mentor. His Father in Law and Master Phemius's Care he has repay'd in that grateful Commemoration of him, in the first of the Odyssey,

His Friend Mentes the Merchant stands too upon Record,

The Fame of Homer's Poetry was not now con­fin'd to Ionia, where he had pass'd his Life, but made an equal Noise in Greece. So that among the vast Number of Strangers that us'd to visit him for the sake of his Wit, some at last prevail'd with him to take a Voyage into those Parts. He was mightily pleas'd with the Invitation: and having in the first place inserted several Honourable touches on the City Athens in his Poems, he set Sail, and arriv'd at Samos, where he took up his Winter Quarters.

[Page 12]During his stay there, his way of maintaining himself, was at the time of every New Moon, to go about, with a Chorus of Boys that led him, to the Houses of the Greatest Persons in the City, and to sing this kind of Ballad, or Wassail at their Doors.

This Begging piece of Cant, was held in great ve­neration for a long time after in Samos; and used constantly to be sung by the Boys on the Festival of Apollo.

In the Spring, Homer thinking on nothing but his Journey to Athens, embark'd with some of the Peo­ple of those Parts, and landed at Ios. Here finding himself violently ill, and the Town being at a great distance from the Harbour, he laid down upon the Grass near the Shore. In this Condition the Fisher­men met with him, and encounter'd him with their Famous Riddle, of

which, they say, he not being able to expound, died with Grief. But the true account is, that his former Distemper was the cause of his Death; which hap­pen'd soon after in Ios. The People of the City, and the Passengers who had born him company thither, paid their last Respects to him in an Honou­rable Burial. His Tomb stood by the Sea-Shore; and had this Epitaph engrav'd on it in a later Age; when his Poems had gain'd the Approbation of all the World,

This is the miserable account we have of Homer: these are the faint shadows Antiquity reflects at such a distance. But if we recal the Mind from the dark view of his Story, and six it all at once on the Re­liques that he has left us; our Pity is turn'd into a deeper Wonder: We forget the rude Draught of his Person and Fortune, to contemplate on the Nobler Image of his Soul. The Blind Songster immediately vanishes; and in his room we are presented with the Father and Prince of Verse the Preacher of Wis­dom and Vertue, the Founder of Arts and Sciences, the Great Master of Civil Life, and the Counsellor of Kings.

The Ancients have heaped much higher Titles on him than these. But 'tis easie to observe, that their Rhapsody of Praises is rather founded on particular Excellencies, than on the entire Beauty of his Po­ems, and the justness of the whole Designs. They admir'd the vastness of his Thought, the torrent of his Words, the sweet Charms of his Fictions, and the usefulness of his Precepts and Counsels: But they had little regard to the Master-piece of his Divine Art, his Conduct and Institution. It's true, Aristotle and Horace have laid down a number of Rules drawn from Nature and Reason: by applying which, they sometimes applaud his Contrivance in General; and sometimes insist on the discovery of peculiar Graces. But then they either commend the whole, with­out examining the Parts; or else they illustrate the Parts without intimating their Relation to the whole.[Page 15]They either show us the fine Machine at one view, without taking it to pieces: or else they lay those Pieces at too great a distance, and never give them us all in the same Light. The most Judicious and In­genious Bossu, who built his Doctrine of the Epique Poem on the Foundation they had laid, is the first that has drawn Homer at his full length: Attoning, by this eminent piece of Service, for the many use­less Labours of his Countrymen in the same Field; by which, in the Judgment of a Great Man, They seem rather to have valued themselves, than improv'd any body else.

'Tis from Bossu then, that we must thus learn the Design, the Construction and the Use of the Iliad and the Odyssey.

Those that set up for Scepticks in Criticism, may easily say that, all this is but Scheme and Hypothe­sis; and that Homer never understood Politicks and and Oeconomics half so well, as since Bossu has been his Tutor. That the sine Train of Allegory or (as they will rather term it) Mystery, is not owing to the Poet's Imagination but to our own: while, be-in once grown enamour'd of his Muse, we not only see a thousand new Charms about her, to which she is really a Stranger; but like craz'd Lovers, turn her very imperfections into Beauties.

But sure if Theories in Philosophy, are so much in fashion, Theories in Poesy might hope to be as kind­ly receiv'd. 'Tis now a days the Character of Fools to admire what they don't throughly know: But the Men who pretend to Thought and Sence, will ne­ver esteem a thing 'till they fancy they understand it. Thus they are not ravish'd with the fair variety of[Page 25]Nature, till they have framed some kind of Clue to the Mazes of her Works; and a reason for every ap­pearance, every little Feature in her Face. They would not admire the Celestial Motions, unless they carried their Spheres about with them in their Heads; and could measure the steps of every rowling Orb. And certainly, they cannot be better pleas'd with a Poet, till they form some Notion of his Conduct and Design. They cannot value his Magick, unless they conceive how 'tis wrought: nor acknowledge the Power of any Charms, that pretend to conquer, without being understood.

Thus, were this Doctrine no more than a proba­ble Hypothesis, it would be of real use to the World; because it would recommend the Poems to Mens esteem; and by that means, inforce the Lessons they convey. But we may as rationally imagin that all the Letters which express the Iliad and the Odyssey were jumbled into their present Order by a chance throw: as that the Poems were compos'd by the Author without some General and useful Prospect. And, when we are to judge what this Prospect was; we must be guided by the Natural drifts and turns of the main Actions, and by the Manners of the People for whom he wrot. And then, we shall be carried into the same Plan which Bossu has finish'd, and of which Aristotle and Horace drew the first Lines.

It must be acknowledg'd, that the same Excellent Father, and other late Masters have rais'd on this Model, several new structures, which probably ne­ver entred into Homer's Brain. Thus particularly, that the Divinities whom he employs, are sometimes Virtues and Vices, sometimes Natural Appearances, and only sometimes the Supream Powers of Heaven, is a Distinction which if Plato and Pythagoras had ever heard of, 'tis not likely that one of them should have [Page 26]banish'd the Poet his Common-wealth for speaking injuriously of the Gods; or the other have made him do Pennance in Hell for the same Crime.

They are indeed as much in an extreme, who make Homer infallible, as those who despise him for a trifling Dotard. He could not paint his Deities without Spots and Blemishes: And must we allow him a Prerogative which he thought fit to deny Hea­ven? Or when all the rest of the World, Immortals and Mortals are fast asleep, must he only with his Jupiter ^a be exeus'd from Nodding? We may take Horace's word for it that he does sometimes Nod; and my Lord Roscommon's, that he now and then pro­ceeds a little farther. But then commonly he does it for Company: and because in his Age the same Fit had taken the greatest part of Mankind. Thus his own ΟΙΟΙ ΝΥΝ ΒΡΟΤΟΙ ΕΙΣΙ, if rightly manag'd, would confute all the vain Cavils of his Modern Opposers. Those nice Gentlemen, who, because Wit and Sence are the same in all Ages, must needs have Manners and Humours and even Languages to be the same too. For the three main things which offend their curious Palates, are the Fables which we find in Homer, the odd Manners of his Heroes, and the Improprieties (as they call them) of his Stile. And in all these Charges, they show themselves so very Modern, as to think the World always was, just as they found it. Otherwise, is it possible they should be ignorant, that Poetry and Fables made up the Learning and the very Religion of the Old Heathens: Fables to conceal the Doctrines, and Poetry to con­vey the Fables? Could they be ignorant that the Wisest and most Judicious in all Ages believ'd those Stories no more than they themselves; all of them [Page 27]thinking what Strabo has the boldness to declare, ‘'That Mankind being naturally desirous of Know­ledge, and the ignorant and undisciplin'd part of Men no better than Children, 'twas fit they should be plied with such Notions, as would at the same time satisfie their Curiosity, and enforce their Obe­dience.'’ The same excellent Author will inform them, ‘'That it being absurd to hope in those dark times, that Women and the common Multitude should be drawn to Religion, Holiness, and Fide­lity, by the reasonings of a Philosopher; there was need, besides these, of some Superstition to con­strain them; which Superstition could not be carri­ed on, without Fables and Prodigies: And that thus the Thunder-bolts, and the Goats-skin Shield of Jupiter, the Trident, the Torches, the Snakes, and the Ivy-Rods, were all Fables, and so was the whole System of the ancient Theology.'^a’

But if the modish Cavillers should prove so complaisant to Antiquity, [...] be offended at Fables in general, they will say, they only dislike Homer for the absurd use of them; that is, for inserting a great Number of such as cannot be reconcil'd to any rational Allegory; o­thers that are absolutely impossible; and some, which instead of instructing and encouraging the People in Virtue, seem rather to countenance the vilest Disorders.

To the first of these Objections it may be return'd, that while the greater part of the Fictions disclose some glorious and useful Moral, it is unreasonable to exact the true Allegory of every little Adventure. They may as well, when they read a Fable in Aesop, as suppose the Dog and the Shadow; not be satisfied with the general Caution against leaving real Goods for Appearances: unless they could expound the par­ticular meaning of the River, and why the Cur[Page 28]should have a piece of Flesh in his Mouth, rather than any other Food. Thus their Niceness would appear very impertinent, tho' we should suppose that a great many of Homer's Stories were designed for no farther use, than to be the necessary Attendants of those other Fictions which they allow to contain some plainer Instruction. But what if it should be admit­ted for a fair Conjecture, that the Poet did really shadow a perpetual Lesson, in every part of the piece, but laid a great deal of it so artificially, as to be dis­cover'd only by those Persons whom he should fa­vour with a Clue to the whole Labyrinth? Why might not Homer have as numerous a Train of Fol­lowers, as Orpheus and Musaeus are said to have gain'd by the same Arts? And then, why might not he (like the Masters of other Sects) besides the general Instruction to all the World, have concealed some deeper Doctrine in his Verses, design'd only to be known by the Tribe of his own Scholars?

If a Man was to read Tasso's [...] of Jerusalem, he would presently apprehend a great many useful Notices scatter'd through the Action; such as the necessity of joining the force of Piety to that of Arms; the weakness of the Powers of Hell, when engag'd against Heaven, and the like. But is it probable he should see yet farther within a second Curtain, and conceive that Jerusalem there signifies Civil Happiness; Godfrey, and the other Heroes, each of them some particular Power of the Soul; and that the Common Soldiers make up between them Man's Body, unless he had read the Author's Allegory presix'd to the Poem; and seen the obscure Treasure pointed to by the same Hand that hid it?

To those who charge Homer with the impossibility of some of his Fictions, Bossu and Dacier will answer, that the want of probability may generally be excus'd upon account of some attending Circumstance.[Page 29]And that thus all the monstrous Relations about Circè, Polypheme, the Syrens, &c. tho' absolutely false and extravagant, yet may pass with a good Air enough, if we consider what sort of People those were whom Ulysses entertains with such Recitals. And they were the Phaeacians, whom the Poet takes care to describe, as a soft, effeminate, idle Race of Mortals, living at a great distance from the Civil World; and desi­rous of no other Knowledge but that of Tales and prodigious Occurrences.

This Apology carries a fair Face, and may be suf­ficient to establish Ulysses his Credit with his new Ene­mies, because they are not likely to look so far as the latter end of the Poem to confute it. But what if they should light by chance on that place in the Twenty third Book, where the Hero is said to have oblig'd his Lady at his return, with an Account of the same mad Adventures, the same Polypheme, and Scylla, and Circe, which had so charm'd his Foreign Auditors? They will certainly bring this as an in­vincible Argument, that the stupidity of the Phaeaci­ans ought not to excuse the extravagant absurdity of those Stories: unless we suppose the Travelling Prince, after the Sight of so many Cities and Man­ners, not to have been able to distinguish between a vertuous Penelope, and a Debauch't Alcinous. There­fore, if we may venture to wander a little from such great Guides, as Bossu and Dacier; the reason of Ho­mer's Impossibilities in the Odyssey, is not to be laid on the little spot of Phaeacia, but upon the whole Hea­then World. Did not the Priests continually amuze the staring Multitude with Relations much more pro­digious than any of Ulysses his Tales? And was not all the Philosophy for many Hundred Years after Ho­mer, a wilder Romance than any part of his Poesy? Indeed there was plain necessity for this old Con­duct. 'Twould have been as vain an attempt to[Page 30]have endeavoured the keeping simple Creatures in awe by rational means, as to talk serious sence to lit­tle Children. Both were to be charm'd into their Duty by Prodigy and wonder. The Law-giver ap­plied his Stories like the Nurse: and the Gorgons were as useful for maintaining the Quiet of Tribes and Soci­eties, as the Bug-bears for securing the peace of the Cradle.

The last part of the Charge against Homer's Fables is generally own'd; where a great many of them are accus'd of serving rather to the encouragement of Men in Vice, than the inclining and inciting them to Goodness. All the brave Advocates and Champions that his Fame holds in pay, have not been able to guard it from this Attack. Being forc'd to ac­knowledge, that those unworthy representations of the Celestial Powers which run through every Story, must needs have advanc'd the Cause of Impiety in the ignorant World; because the unthinking part of Mankind were not able to look behind the gross Veil which covered these Sacred Matters; and so were miserably abus'd, mistaking the deform'd and odious Shadow for the real Beauty and Substance, and esteem­ing the most dangerous Fictions, as solid and neces­sary Truths. 'Tis in vain to urge, that these unhap­py Proceedings may be justified by considering the particular Circumstances of every Business. As, that the rude Scene of Love between Mars and Ve­nus may be reconciled to a Decorum, if we observe, that 'tis neither the Poet nor the Hero, nor so much as an honest Man that gives the Relation; but the dis­solute Phaeacians sing it at a publick Festival; as if the Poet design'd only to show us, that the idle Arts of softness and luxury, are the Source of the most sinful Pleasures; and that the Men who spend their lives in these Disorders, naturally take a plea­sure in hearing such shameful Recitals, and in ma­king [Page 31]the Gods themselves sharers with them in their Debauches.^a For this fine Allegory would not have hindred the ill effects of the Fable, unless every pri­vate Grecian had been blest with as Nice a Wit as Mon­sieur Bossu, to understand it.

The Original of the Heathen Superstition is an enquiry too difficult and too tedious to be here en­gaged in. And yet we must have some Notion of it, because Homer is like to find no shelter, unless he takes Sanctuary behind the Altars of his Country. If then we consider the greatest part of the first Na­tions after the Dispersion, immediately corrupting in­to the grossest Ignorance, we may easily imagine the very Principles of true Religion to have been extinguish'd among them; except some few Reliques of Natural Maxims, which remaining in wiser Heads, fitted them for Law-givers and Founders of States. Now 'twas necessary for these great Design­ers to let the People have some Apprehensions of the supreme Powers of Heaven, whose authority was to keep them in their Duty. But it being im­possible that the abstracted Notion of one Eternal, Infinite, and Almighty Being, should take any firm hold on Minds guided only by the outward sences; some Corporeal Images were to be introduc'd, which might maintain a vigorous Impression on the Fancy, by the resemblance of some things with which it was better acquainted. This might be offered as a reason why they cloathed the Sovereign Being in a material shape, before they presented him to the adoration of the vulgar; still leaving him the Power of Invisibi­lity, and of taking any new Form he pleased. But now when they had divested the Heavenly Nature of its infinite and uncompounded Essence, they found themselves obliged, to take away the Unity too,[Page 32]the Multitude would never have stood in due awe of one only Supreme Ruler in the Skies, whom they conceived in Form and Limbs not much unlike them­selves; nor have allow'd his Power so prodigious an extent beyond his Body. Therefore, besides the chief Jupiter, every corner in Heaven and Earth too, was fill'd with Inferior Deities; who tho' they were properly no more than Officers to put their Great Master's Pleasure in Execution, yet had the power of punishing any Crime committed in their particular Districts. But still, because no Divinity could have maintain'd his force upon the People, unless he had his peculiar Name and Story to run al­ways in their Heads, and to keep their thoughts in play: 'Twas thought convenient to let them know that these Heavenly Governours were once Mortal Princes, who for their great Services to Mankind, had merited so exalted a State. And thus every God came to have his Legend, consisting of the mighty Adventures he had pass'd through during his Humane Condition. And because many of these Worthies liv'd at the same time, hence came they to be engag'd in many common Intrigues. And from these arose their Loves, their Flights, their Wars, their Antipathies, and Friendships. Thus the Multitude arriv'd at the en­tertainment of these Adventures; the Civil Pow­er encouraging their Curiosity, and retaining the Po­ets to give it Satisfaction.

'Tis not unlikely, that the Government might hope for some farther Benefit from this Indulgence, than is commonly imagin'd. For 'twas reasonable for them to suppose, that the People acknowledging the Power of the Gods at the same time as they rela­ted their Failings; would, upon the same Principle, refuse to take any occasion from the Faults of their Rulers to resist their Authority. But would conceive Gods and Princes both to act by Prerogative, and to [Page 33]have a just right of punishing the same Actions in their Inferiors, which their own high Station, and their exemption from common Duties excus'd, or justifi'd in themselves.

Perhaps when Learning and Arts came to be more refin'd, the wise Masters who sat at the Helm might find the bad consequence of these Doctrines, and that the People would never grow heartily averse to sinful Courses, while they had so great Patrons and Examples, and could make Heaven a partner in their Guilt. And therefore the State might again call the Poets to its assistance, who by framing an useful ex­planation of every old Story, should hinder the more knowing Persons from taking offence; and at least give an uncertain amusement to those who could not apprehend the Exposition.

Thus without doubt in many Cases the Fable was not cast on to cover the Allegorical Truth; but the Allegorical Truth spread under, to disguize the Fable. For it can never be denied but that there were once really such Men as the Ancients call'd Saturn, Jupiter and Bacchus, tho' we have had so many old, and so many new Morals to make out the My­stery of their Stories, and of their Names.

If now it at all appears from these Conjectures, that the original of the ridiculous Stories about the Gods, was not owing to the extravagant Fancies of the Poets, but to the necessity of the Times, and to the Rules of State: Can Homer be justly condemn'd for carrying on the same Design with a better Grace; that is, for presenting the old Fictions in a new dress, and so bringing them nearer to a hidden and Allego­rical meaning? But indeed, should he plead Guilty to the whole Indictment, and thro himself on the Mercy of his Judges; 'twould be very hard if we should require the strictest Piety in the Ancient Po­ets, while we are forc'd to dispense with it in the[Page 34]Modern; if our Zeal should exact from a Pagan Homer the Purity of a Christian, while our Complai­sance can allow in our Christian Homers the Liberty of Pagans.

But our new Zoiluss, whatever plausible Actions they may have against Homer's Fables, are shameful­ly Cast, when they come to accuse him of Indecen­cies in his Manners and in his Style. They are ex­ceeding angry, to hear Ulysses boast of his being the best Cook in the World, and challenge any Man to cut Meat, serve Wine, or make a [...]ire with him. And to see Achilles himself trying his Faculty at the same Employment. But then they have forgot the Character of the ancient Simplicity, when among the good Primitive Mortals 'twas reckon'd no disho­nour, for the greatest Person to take care of his mean­est Family Concerns, and upon occasion to perform the common Offices in his Kitchin, or in his Sta­ble.^a

With just as much reason, they complain of Ho­mer's Comparisons and Epithets, which they imagine to be gross Improprieties. They are affronted to find Ajax compar [...]d to an Ass: when all the while, not only the Word is good and lofty enough in the Greek and Hebrew, as Mr. Boileau observes,^b but the Beast too was in esteem with the Ancients (as it is still in some Countries) and had the Honour to carry Kings and Princes, as well as Prophets and Priests.

Ulysses too gives them a great disgust, when being in a violent Fury with the desire of punishing the lewd Gallants, tossing and tumbling from one side of the Bed to the other; he is compared to the Belly of a Beast, with the Fat about it, broiling on the Coals,[Page 35]and being often turn'd by the Fellow that takes care of it for his Dinner. Whence the facetious Mr. Per­rault tells us, that Homer compares Ulysses to a Black Pudding on the Gridiron. A Jest that he borrowed, as ^a Boileau informs us, from an old lamentable Tran­slation of the Odyssey into French. Now it's likely, that Similitude was taken from the Sacrifices, in which we know the Fat was especially regarded. Besides, the Bellies of some Animals were reckon'd hereto­fore most delicious Meat, and much above the con­dition of our Modern Tripe.

'Twere tolerable if this scrupulous niceness were only impertinent; but 'twould be no hard matter to prove it impious too. For there are abundance of Expressions in the Holy Scriptures which agree no butter with the Genins of Modern Times and Lan­guages. Thus particularly these two Comparisons of Ajax and Ulysses seem to have something much of the same mode of Speech with them, in the Bible. Jacob in the 49th of Genesis, at the 14th sa [...] ‘Issachar is an Ass stooping between two Burdens.’ And in Eccle­siasticus, the 47th at the 2d, David is said to have been ‘Separated from the Children of Israel, as the Fat is separa­ted from the Flesh.’

But the most usual Folly, is the sneering at all such Epithets, as would perhaps look ridiculous in our Modern Phrase. Thus the Grave Malbranche observes, that the Title of [...], which is fix'd on the Hero of the Iliad, would be a more proper praise for a Fleet-Hound or a Race. Horse.^b Yet sure the Custom of giving most Princes and Great Com­manders some distinguishing Epithet, is not so very much worn it, but we may find Examples enough of it, even in the Histories of later Times. Sure,[Page 36] Charles the Simple, and Lewis the Lazy of France, as well as our Robert Short-hose, and William Rufus might make us more merciful than to scout poor Achilles, for his old Sir-name of Light-foot. But indeed this swiftness of Feet was always esteemed a Quality wor­thy of the noblest Captains, among the Ancients. Otherwise David would not have applied it so in his Divine Poesy. Yet he says of himself, that God had made his Feet like Harts Feet. And reckon'd it a­mong the Excellencies of Saul and Jonathan, that they were swifter than Eagles, as well as stronger than Lions.

Monsieur Perrault, who has been so hardy as to undertake the Cause of the Moderns against the Wisdom and the Arts of Antiquity, tho' he has not fail'd to make the best of every one of these little Cavils, yet seems to have been sensible of their weakness. And therefore, for fear the Name and Authority of Homer should defend Him against such slight attaques, he wisely begins his Censure with maintaining, that there was never any such Man in the World^a That the two Poems, the Iliad and the Odyssey, are nothing but a Collection of many lit­tle pieces by several Hands, join'd altogether in a Bo­dy. In as much, as the Siege of Troy being the ge­neral Subject of the Poets in the Times when we pre­tend he liv'd; there came out commonly twenty or thirty Poems on that Action every Year, and the Man that made the best Verses gain'd the Prize. Till at last there happened to be some sort of Men in the World, who took a fancy to join the best of these pieces together; and accordingly putting them into some Order and Method, they form'd the Iliad and the Odyssey.^b

When he's put on the proof of this fine Hypothe­sis, [Page 37]he owns that he has indeed no demonstration, but is ready to produce very strong Conjectures. These strong Conjectures are, first, that Homer's Works are call'd Rhapsodies; the reason of which Name could be nothing else, but their consisting of a par­cel of Songs tag'd together; no Person ever after giving his Poems the same Title. Secondly, that we don't know the Country of Homer; and that therefore it is probable, every one of those Cities which laid claim to his Birth, had really produc'd one of those petit Poets, who compos'd some part of the Works.^a

Now, as to the first of these Objections, what a surprize Monsieur Perrault would be in, if he should be told, that the word Rhapsody, is nothing but a Corruption from Rhapdody, or at least has the same signification; taken from the Boughs of Lau­rel which the publick Reciters of Homer's Verses us'd to carry in their Hands; but indeed that one phrase of Pindar, [...] ^b is enough to con­fute this Notion. We may venture therefore to grant, that the word [...] comes from [...] to sew or tag Verses together. But then is it not very natu­ral, that this Name might first be given to any Poem of considerable length; and at last applied more properly to Heroic Poems; and by way of eminence to those of Homer?

It's certain [...] is us'd by the Ancients, as well for making Verses, as for singing them in Publick: and [...] signifies as well the Poets themselves, as the Reciters of their Works. Lucian calls Hesiod [...], and Sophocles gives his Sphinx the same Ti­tle, from her making Verses. And so too, after the Rhapsodists were establish'd into a Company of Men who sung Verses at Festivals and on Publick [Page 38]Occasions, they were not confin'd to Homer's Works (as a great Man^a imagines) but rehears'd the Com­positions of many other famous Poets^b Tho' indeed, his Writings being the most esteem'd and admir'd, they were beholden to him for the chief part of their Imployment; and in gratitude took the Name of [...], as Athenaeus ^c informs us. But there would have been little occasion for this latter Ti­tle. If their first of [...] imported the same thing.

Besides, if Mr. Perrault would deign to look at the beginning of any Book in the Iliad or the Odyssey, he would find that particular Book distinguish'd by the Name of such a Rhapsody; and therefore accor­ding to his Explication of the word, he would have the same reason to say that each Book was patch'd up of odd Verses, as each Poem of odd Books.

His second Scruple, about our ignorance of Ho­mer's Countrey will weigh no more than the first. For how many other Authors have we, whom we acknowledge and admire in their Works, tho' we are net inform [...]d of the Place of their Birth? At this rate, because we cannot yet settle the Country of Duns Scotus, [...] must presently pass for one of his own Logical Chimeras. And we must lose our own Homer Jeoffrey Chaucer, because he is conten­ded for by several Counties, and adjudg'd certain­ly to none.

But Mr. Perrault is so much a Gentleman, as at last to suppose that Homer might indeed make the Forty eight Books, which we find in the Iliad and the Odyssey; but then he says 'tis almost beyond di­spute that he never form'd those entire Poems. What in his Judgment puts this matter almost beyond dispute, is a passage of Aelian's various History; which [Page 39]indeed in Perrault's Words prove; what he desires; but in Aelian's quite contradicts and spoils the whole Business. He draws the Argument after this man­ner;

Thus Mr. Perrault, after his haughty and dogma­tical manner, has made Aelian speak in his Citation; and now 'tis sit Aelian should speak for himself. His Words then in his 13th Book, Chap. 14th, as nearly as they can be rendred, are to this effect.^a

Now is there in all this, one word of Mr. Perrault's Sence, or the least reflection on Homer's Honour? Does Aelian speak of the Poet's way of composing by scraps; and not of the Peoples getting his Verses by heart in little parcels, and giving those parcels, what Names they pleas'd? But, (what was the boldest stroke of all) does the Historian say that Pisistratus made the Iliad and the Odyssey? It's true indeed we find con­fecit in the Latin: but besides that we may construe that rather made up, than made, it is manifestly a false Translation. For the Greek word is [...]; which imports no more than to show or exhibite to the Publick^a

This is the Substance of what the most Judicious Boileau has return'd to Perrault's Citation of Aelian. But there is a farther discovery behind, which, if it takes any thing from Perrault's Impudence, lays a great deal more on his Ignorance. The truth of the matter then is this. Our terrible Champion did not venture so far as the Greek or Latin either, for this Specimen of his Learning; but took the passage just as he found it in Father Rapin's Comparisons: where the Story is told exactly after the same unfaithful manner, and for the most part in the very same words^b

[Page 41]But, because the most delicate of the New Criticks, may be willing to stand to the Judgment of so Gen­tleman-like a Wit as Horace; (except Perrault who will say He was prevail'd on by the Vulgar Error ^a) there cannot be a better conclusion, than his Cha­racter of our Great Poet; as he gives it his Friend, in the easie way of an Epistle.

HESIOD.

THE time of Hesiod is generally computed with relation to that of Homer: and therefore can­not be expected to stand in a much fairer Light. Some Authors, chiefly on account of the gravity and simplicity of his Stile, make him the Elder of the[Page 45]two^a some place Him a long time after^b Homer. Many affirm them to have been cotemporaries, and to have contended for the Prize of Poetry in a Fa­mous tryal of Skill^c

The Younger Scaliger in his Animadversions on Eusebius ^d has observ'd, that there is one passage in Hesiod's Works, which if some able Astronomer would be at the trouble of the Experiment, might serve to demonstrate the Poet's Age within Seventy Years. Because he tells us himself that, when he liv'd, the Constellation Arcturus rose Acronycally on the 8th of March. He alludes, without doubt, to that place in the ΕΡΓΑ,

The Danish Astronomer Longomontanus, has taken the pains to solve this ^eProblem: And, upon a long Proof, finds, that Hesiod wrote in the Year of the World 2918, 140 Years after the Trojan War; and consequently 100 before Homer, if we fix him in the 240 Year of that Period. But on another necessary con­sideration, the Astronomer afterwards substracts one half from that Interval; and so, bringing them nearer[Page 46]together, agrees pretty well with the Arundelian Marble, which makes them between Thirty and Fourty Years distant: The Numeral Letter which should show the exact Year being worn out.

Hesiod has been more kind than Homer, in regard that he has given us an account of his Country and Descent; But perhaps it was not so much with de­sign to oblige the rest of the World as to abuse the Place where he liv'd by an unpleasant description; after having receiv'd some considerable affront there, which ^a Paterculus thinks was the Imposition of a Fine. Whatever the occasion was, in his ΕΡΓΑ speaking of Trading by Sea, he addresses his Brother Perses with this account of their Father's first Seat and his Remove.

By this we find that his Family (as well as Ho­mer's) was originally of Cuma in Aeolia, now Faio Nova, about Thirty Six Miles North of ^a Smyrna. Whence his Father remov'd to Ascra, a little pittiful Village of Baeocia, just by the Mountain Helicon. The Names of his Father and Mother we must learn from some other Intelligence. And Suidas tells us they were Dius and Pycimene; and that he went with them very Young in their Voyage to Ascra.

His Father seems to have thriv'd a little better in Ascra, than he did in his own Country. Yet poor Hesiod could arrive at no higher employment, than to keep Sheep on the top of Helicon. In this condi­tion, the Muses met with him, and took him into their Service: if we'l believe his own relation of the Adventure.

The main part of this Story has been thought an Allegory, designed to intimate, that Hesiod sleeping one day, as he describes, happen'd to dream, that Nine young Maids came and fed him with Laurel Berries. Whence, in that superstitious Age, it be­ing inferr'd that he was particularly chosen by Hea­ven to be an excellent Poet: He lest his Profession of a Shepherd, and applied himself wholy to Arts and Learning; in order to the improving of the Di­vine Gift, which he had receiv'd after so extraordi­nary a manner^a. But perhaps it might be no more than a piece of Poetical Vanity; under which notion it is scouted by Lucian in a whole Dialogue^b. And [Page 49] Ovid seems to have had much the same opinion of the Business, when in the entrance on his Art of Love, declaring the truth and sincerity he intended to use, he says,

Ovid indeed might have spar'd so unkind a reflection, since he himself took the same course in the exactest of his Works the Fasti: Where sometimes his Muse, sometimes Old Janus, sometimes Mars himself, are brought in, talking familiarly with the Poet: And yet this Conduct is generally look'd on as a very great Beauty to the Design.

Virgil was more favourable in his Judgment of a Person to whom he was so much oblig'd. And there­fore, only turning the Rod of Laurel into a set of Pastoral Reeds, he takes occasion from this Story to pass the highest Compliment in the World on Hesiod; at the same time paying his respects to the Name of Old Linus, and refering the whole Design to the Ho­nour of his Patron Gallus.

When the Old Man was dead, Hesiod divided the Stock that was left, with his Brother Perses. But Per­ses by corrupting the Judges got half of Hesiod's share. This injustice was so far from provoking the Poet to any resentment; that instead of bewailing his own hard Fortune, he only picied those poor mistaken Mortals, who did not know that the Arts of Mode­ration and Contentment could baffle the Philosophers Maxim, and make Half more than the Whole. The Story is one of his own telling in the beginning of his ΕΡΓΑ address'd to his Brother; where he advises him to Labour and Industry as much a surer way to encrease his Fortune, than attending on Courts of Law, and engaging in unjust suits.

This ΠΑΕΟΝ ΗΜΙΣΥ ΠΑΝΤΟΣ, is that Acute saying couch'd in the reverend Obscurity of an Oracle, which Mr. Cowley ^a so much admir'd.

There are scarce any other Passages of his Life, but what we are Strangers to. Only, it's generally agreed, he took up with a solitary Retreat in the Country; professing always an extream aversion to publick business, and desirous of nothing more than to live peaceably and comfortably, and to enjoy the useful favours of his Muse. Whence ^b Paterculus calls him ‘Otii quietisque cupidissimus, making Ease and Quietness his chief Wishes and Designs.’

The Story of his Contest with Homer, tho' ^c Plu­tarch reckons it among the [...] Old ob­solete stuff; yet occurs too frequently to be quite neg­lected. It happen'd, they say, at the Publick Fu­neral of Amphidamus the Chalcidian: when the Glory of the two Renown'd Poets striking the Judges with such a Reverence, as made the Prize very doubtful; at last they came to proposing odd Questions, and Homer began with

[Page 52] To which Hesiod immediately Answer'd

This put the Judges into a Fit of Wonder, and made them decree Hesiod the Tripos, which was the Re­ward of the Contention.

Thus Periander gives the Relation in Plutarch's Ban­quet of the Seven Wise Men. Dion the Orator brings in Philip of Macedon and Alexander discoursing the same Point. The Young Prince professes himself to be mightily ravish'd with Homer. His Father tells him, how finely soever Homer wrote, yet he was conquer'd in his Art by honest Hesiod, and asks him if he never heard of those two Verses which Hesiod inscrib'd on the Tripos, when he dedicated it to the Muses on Mount Helicon.

Alexander grants the Story, and says, that Hesiod might well get the Victory, when Kings were not Judges of the Prize, but Plowmen and ignorant Rusticks^a

[Page 53]From this inscrib'd Epigram ^a Marcus Varro con­cluded Homer and Hesiod to be Cotemporaries. And Philostratus ^b made the same Inference. Who adds farther, that Panides King of Chalcis was chief Arbi­ter of the Tryal. Whence we meet with [...] ^c among the Old Proverbs, for a foolish Vote, or Decision. From the Tradition of this Adventure, Lucian, without doubt, took the Hint; when in his True History, reckoning up the several Contentions in all Arts, at a samous Festival in the Isle of Heroes, he says pleasantly, ‘ [...] ^d’ ‘As for the Poets, to say the Truth, Homer had much the better on't; and yet, at the same time, Hesiod was the Victor.’

He had the same Chance, as Homer, in not being taken into the Favour and Patronage of any Prince or Great Man^e: but on a different Account. For Homer's rambling kind of Life, may be suppos'd to have depriv'd Him of that Advantage. Whereas, Hesiod, being wholly intent on the Pleasures and the Innocence of a Plain Countriman's Condition; seems not so properly to have miss'd of those Ho­nours, as to have contemn'd them.

In the latter part of his Life, he remov'd to Locris, a Neighboring Town of the Phoceans, about the same distance from Mount Parnassus, as his Ascra was from Helicon.

The Story of his Death, is thus told by Solon in Plutarch's Feast of the Seven Wise Men.

Pausanias ^a tells as, that, when the Orchomenians were thus commanded by the Oracle, to bring He­siod's Bones into their Country, as the only means to remove a Pestilence that rag'd among them: they did find them, and actually bring them home.

'Tis a common Observation and Complaint of Learn'd Men that we have no Reiques of the Genu­ine[Page 55]Simplicity and Purity, which made the Old Grecians so famous, except what we meet with in the Works of Homer and Hesiod: And that the Ex­cellency of the latter Pieces is more owing to the lustre of Artificial Ornaments, than to the Charms of Native Beauty. On this account the admirable Vida, has fix'd the Times of Homer and those imme­diately following, as the Golden and the Silver Ages of Poesy in Grece.

Indeed Homer's Design was not so very capable of this simplicity, except in a few Places. And there­fore he seems to have left that Palm almost untouch'd, to Hesiod, whose Subjects as well as his Genius lead him to Plainness and Gravity.

We meet with the Titles of a great Number of Pieces ascrib'd to Hesiod, up and down in Pausanias, Eunapius, Lucian, &c. all which are put together in a Catalogue by Lylius Gyraldus, in his Dialogues a­bout the Poets. What we have at present, are, the Works and Days, Hercules's Shield, and the Theogony, or History of the Race and Birth of the Gods. The two last of which Poems, are hardly admitted for Genuine. Particularly the Theogony is as good as mark'd for Spurious by Pausanias himself.^a Tho' that Hi­storian, as Heinsius observes, seems in some measure to have betray'd his Cause, when he blames the Bae­otians ‘for making an Image of Hesiod with a Harp, were as He sung his Verses to a Rod of Laurel ^b;’ when, all the while, the Story of the Rod of Laurel, is in[Page 56]the present Theogony: and at the same time ^a Plu­tarch assures us that Hesiod's EPTA us'd to be sung to the Harp.

Manilius in the beginning of his second Book, has bestow'd these high Lines on Hesiod and his Works.

This account, tho' it seems to include no other Labours but the EPTA and the THEOGONY, yet agrees with neither of the Pieces which we now have, un­der those Names. For those fine things which the Latin Poet recount's about the Birth of the Gods, and the making of the World, are not so nearly al­li'd to any passages in the present THEOGONY as to justifie the allusion. And therefore 'till the late most Learned and Ingenious Translator of Manilius shall oblige us with his corrections of this place in a Latin Edition, it must be concluded; that either the Astronomer's Fancy has carried him beyond his Aim: or else, that Hesiod compos'd some other Poem of the Genealogy of the Gods, which might be extant in those Times.

And then the other part of the Relation, which is taken up with describing the Arts of Planting can­not on any account, be referr'd to the EPTA, where that part of Husbandry is entirely wanting; or at least but slightly touch'd; If, after this we consider that Virgil propos'd Hesiod ^* for his Pattern in the second of his Georgics, which contains the Care of Trees, we may imagin that Hesiod wrote some other Pieces of Rustical Affairs, which Virgil might rather imitate; and that the EPTA and HMHPAI are not so properly a Treatise of Agriculture, as a Body of Oeconomics: a Point, which Daniel Hensius has writ­ten a long Discourse to prove.

These EPTA and HMHPAI being the only unquesti­on'd Work of Hesiod, as has been observ'd, must, to[Page 58]us, be the main Foundation of his Character and Esteem. It's true indeed, that Quintilian gives him the Palm only in med [...]o genere dicendi, in the Middle Stile; yet it must be consider'd that his Subjects oblig'd him to rise no higher. And that too gave occasion to the Remark of Cleomenes the Spartan, that Homer was the Poet of the Lacaedemonians, and Hesiod of the Ilotes, or the Slaves: because the first taught the Art of War, and the other the Art of Husbandry. A saying much like that of Alexander the Great, that Homer was fit for Kings, and Hesiod only for Shep­herds, Carpenters and Ploughmen.

Yet his Reputation need not be built on a better bottom, than the success of those Pieces: where the sweet and easie plainness of Stile; that Air of the Gravest Virtue; those Fables pleasantly told and use­fully applied; together with that inestimable Trea­sure of unaffected Moral Precepts, will always justi­fie and secure that Elogy which Paterculus and Plu­tarch so long since gave him, of being the next Poet to Homer, as well in the value of his Works, as in the Period of his Age.

ANACREON.

ANacreon was born at Teos ^a in Ionia; which was the reason of his using that Dialect in his Works. He is commonly plac'd about the 62d Olympiad, un­der Polycrates, the Prince or (as they call'd it then) the Tyrant of Samos, with whom he is said to have[Page 60]been highly in favour. We can't expect many par­ticulars of his Life, because he seems to have been a profess'd Despiser of all Business and Concerns of the World. And since he design'd his whole Age meer­ly for one Merry Fit, it were rather a Piece of Ci­vility than of Injustice in the World, to let it be en­tirely forgotten.

Thus far we may be certain, that Wine and Love, had the disposal of all his Hours. And if to divert himself, he engag'd in so delightful a Study as Poe­try; perhaps his intention was, rather to pay his Respects to some other Deities than to compliment the Muses. Ovid himself, tho' one of the freest Li­vers upon Record, yet could censure Anacreon's Ver­ses, as of a looser humour than his own.

His Tippling was as famous in the World as his Poetry: And, when we sind his Statue in Pausanias ^a habited like a Lyric Professor; we hear at the same time, that it was better distinguish'd by the postures of a Drunkard.

As to the other part of his Profession Love: He appears to have been equally enamour'd of both Sexes; and to have shown as great a Veneration for Cupid, as he did for Venus. ^b Elian indeed is very angry, if we suspect Anacreon of any dishonesty to­ward the Train of fine Boys whom he admir'd. But the General Cry runs so loud against the Poet in this Point: that there's no need of his own [...], [Page 61]to prove that he lov'd his Minions on no bet­ter account than he did his Mistresses.

Hermesianax, as he is cited in ^a Athenaeus, gives an account of Anacreon's Amours with Sappho. But Athenaeus himself refutes the Story; by observing that Sappho and Anacreon could not possibly be Cotem­poraries; the Lady living under Alyattes Father to Craesus and the Gentleman under Cyrus and Polycrates. But 'tis grown a Common Wish, that they had flourish'd in the same Age and Country; and had by some nearer Relation, improv'd the happy agree­ment of their Temper and of their Wit.

Anacreon was famous for one Quality, not very or­dinary with Poets, that of despising Money, when he could get it. For they tell a memorable Story, that when Polycrates had made him a Present of five Talents, he could not get a Minutes Sleep in two Nights after; so that, not being willing to lose his Rest in so bad a Cause, he fairly carried back the Treasure; and told his Patron, that however Con­siderable the Summ might be, it was not an equal Price for the trouble of keeping it.

We don't hear that he was much gi [...] [...] [...]amb­ling: Only Plato ^b informs us that when Hipparchus Son to the Tyrant Pisistratus, invited him to Athens, and sent a Vessel on purpose to convey him; he ac­cepted the Honour and made a Voyage to that Court.

The same Philosopher who gives this Relation, in another place^c does Anacreon the Honour to Stile him [...] The Wise Anacreon. Which is the Foundation of Monsieur Fontanelle's ingenious Dia­logue, where he brings in Anacreon and Aristotle dis­puting the Prize of Wisdom; and gives the Advan­tage to the Poet.

[Page 62]What became of him after the Athenian Voyage, or where He pass'd his last Minutes is not on record. But, as his own Verses confess his Great Age, (tho' not the effects of it) so Lucian reckons him among the Long-livers, allowing him Fourscore and Five Years.

The manner of his Death was very extraordinary. For they tell us, he was choak'd with an unlucky Grape-stone, which slip'd down, as he was regaling on some new Wine^a. This remarkable End, alto­gether as odd as his way of Life, has given an excel­lent Subject to his Successors in Poetry, Among the rest our Incomparable Mr. Cowley, who has so hap­pily imitated the Style and Manner of Anacreon, has farther repaid his Obligations by honouring him with an Elegy in his own Strain. The Conclusion is very grave and serious, and the most Fortunate in the World for the occasion,

If it be thought an Advantage to Anacreon that he should still enjoy his beloved Ease in spight of the Historians, who have been able only to transmit such[Page 63]short Memorials of his Actions; it cannot be esteem'd a meaner Happiness that he has escap'd the more dan­gerous disturbance of the Criticks. Indeed both the Blessings, are in a great measure owing to him­self; one to the Condition of his Life, the other to that of his Writings. For, as the careless and u [...] concern'd freedom of his Manners hindred him from being drawn into the Business of the World, so the beautiful negligence and the sweet Gaeity of his Odes have kept them from ever forming an ungrateful Field for Learned Quarrels and Encounters.

The Masters of Controversial Philology are utterly disappointed when Anacreon falls under their Can­vass. He deprives them of all their Common Places of Talk. They can produce, no tedious Labours, on the Occasions of his Poems; because they were all perfect Humours. They can neither dispute what Examples he follow'd, nor who have follow'd his Example: because the Natural delicacy of his Pieces disdains a Copier, as much as it did a Pattern. Would they contend about his Numbers, or his Stile; they are both too equal to found a difference. Or would they, as their last Refuge oppose one Excel­lency against another; the Virtues of his Poesy, are more closely united than those of the Moralists; and his Graces being all born together, it were unnatu­ral to divide them. The nice Judges may safely please themselves, with admiring each a particular Beauty. One may celebrate the happy novelty of his thoughts: Another the agreeable fineness of his Turns; a third the moving softness of his Expressions; and many more declare in favour, either of his Subli­mity, or of his Justness, or of his Simplicity, or of his Musical Cadences; or of whatever they think touches them with most advantage. But were they all oblig'd to describe the Powers that had charm'd them; they might very probably appear better Friends than they desir'd.

[Page 64]For a General Character of Anacreon, Cupid who was the chief Hero of his Verses, has given the best account of their Worth: as Mr. Cowley has taught him to speak.

PINDAR.

WHatever attempts have been made for fixing the exact time of Pindar's Birth, are all de­monstrated to be uncertain by the Great ^a Scaliger: only thus much is clear, that it happen'd somewhat above Forty Years before the Expedition of Xerxes [Page 66]against Greece, and somewhat more than Five Hun­dred before our Saviour.

The place of his Birth, which ought rather to have been forgot, stands firm enough on Record, and appears to have been Thebes the Capital City of Baeotia. A Country of so gross and heavy an Air, as to furnish Common talk with a Proverb for ex­tream stupidity. We find the Poet confessing this disadvantage of his Climat, but at the same time re­solving to procure himself an exemption from the Ge­neral Censure. For in the Sixt Olympique he thus exhorts Aeneas, the Master of the Chorus that used to Sing his Verses,

Many will have him the Son of one Scopelinus a Pi­per, tho' the most credible Authorities name his Fa­ther Diaphantus ^a. On the Women's side one Myrtis or Myrto, seems to have born the nearest relation to him, either as his Mother, or his Tutoress, or, perhaps, as both. His Nativity fell out just in the Solemnity of the Pythian Games^b: an Omen of [Page 67]the Honours they were afterwards to receive from his Verses. Philostratus makes the Nymphs to have danced at his Birth, and Pan himself to have leap'd awkerdly about for Joy: who (if we believe the same Story) when the Poet was grown up, and set to Writing, left off his Antick Sports, and employ'd himself in singing the new Compositions^a.

Julius Firmicus the Astronomer, has taken the pains to erect Pindar's Horoscope; and demonstrates from the Stars that he was design'd by Heaven for a Divine Master in the Lyric Strain. But because the happy site of his Planets was not likely to be so well understood; they tell us, he was honour'd with a clearer Token of his destin'd Greatness. For sleep­ing one day in the Fields, while a little Boy, the Bees came and fed him with their Honey^b: which passes for the occasion of his first applying himself to Poetry.

It seems probable that the Circumstances of his Birth and Fortune, could not afford him any extra­ordinary Advantages of Education: And therefore 'tis his prodigious Natural Genius which always holds the first place in his Character. He himself was very sensible of the kindness of Heaven in thus provi­ding for him, and knew there was as much difference between himself and his drudging Rivals, as between the easiness of Nature and the Pains of Art. Hence he bravely compares them to the base Crows, and Himself to the Generous Eagle in the Second Olym­pick.

We have little account of his way of Life, only we are inform'd in general, that he was highly courted and respected by the greatest part of the Princes and the States of Greece. One would think they really believ'd him something more than a Mortal, when we find them allowing him a share with the Gods in their Gifts and Offerings. But 'tis a much nobler Praise, that this was done by Command of the Ora­cle itself. For, it seems, the Officiating Prophetess at Delphi, strictly order'd the People, to give a part of their First-fruits (which they brought thither,) as a Present to Pindar ^a. He had an Iron Stool set on purpose for him in that Temple, which remain'd a long time after; upon which he us'd to sit, and sing his Verses in honour of Apollo ^b.

His Countrymen the Thebans had an unlucky grudg against him, upon account of his commending their[Page 69]Mortal Enemies the Men of Athens: which not only rendred them unequal favourers of his Glory; but provok'd them to Fine him, for his Publick Affront to the State. But the Generous Athenians at the same time made him a Present, double in value to what he had been amerc'd; and honour'd him with a no­ble Statue, when his own City refus'd him that Piece of Respect^a.

Perhaps this ill-will of the Magistracy under whom he liv'd, might be the cheif reason of his poor success at a Contention in Verse at Thebes, where he lost the Prize to a Woman, the ingenious Corinna. Pausa­nias says, the Judges declar'd in her favour, because she address'd them in their own Dialect; whereas they were not so well acquainted with the Dorick Stile of Pindar ^b. Without doubt, besides all this, her Beauty had some Influence in the Cause; since we are assur'd she carried away that Prize too, from all the Ladies of her Time^c.

His Noblest Patron was the Famous King Hiero of Syracuse, whom he has consecrated in so many Pieces. And he should seem to have left Thebes to attend on the Court of that Prince. For composing the Second Pythique in his Honour, and addressing himself to the Syracusians, he says

But perhaps this might be spoken only in the Person of those who went to Syracuse to sing his Hymn, at the Feast held there after Hiero's Victory. For when[Page 70]he wrote the third Pythique, he was still in his own Country: in regard that he tells Hiero who was then Sick of the Stone, that, could he raise up old Chiron from the Dead by his Verses, he would come, and bring him along with him, thro' the Ionian Sea into Sicily.

It's likely he pass'd his whole Age in the Ease com­monly allow'd to Men of his Profession; not aspiring to give his Country any other Service than that of his Muse. We find him defending his way of Life in the Seventh Isthmique, and declaring why he rather follow'd this Course, than applied himself to Arms or serious Business.

His Death was the effect of his own Wishes. For having pray'd the Gods to send him the greatest Hap­piness a Mortal was capable of; He is said immedi­ately after, to have expir'd suddenly in the Theatre, leaning on the Knees of a Young Boy that he admir'd: according to Suidas, being then Fifty Five Years Old. Tho' the exact time of his Death is as uncer­tain as that of his Birth.

They tell us that he made Verses even after he was Dead. For, as Pausanias gives the Relation^a, fancying one Night in his latter Time that he saw Proserpina coming to him, complaining that she was the only Deity he had left uncelibrated: Deceasing about ten days after, he appear'd to an Old Gentlewo­man that was related to him, and sung her an Hymn in honour of Proserpine; which the Good Woman preserv'd in Writing.

It's a Story generally known, that of Alexander the Greats's saving Pindar's House (as the Lacedaemo­nians had done before) when he took Thebes, and in­tirely raz'd the rest of the City. But the reason of this Honourable Act is not so well understood. Alexander indeed profess'd a high respect for Pindar's Writings in general; and made it one of his chiefest Pleasures to read them. But this Piece of Generosity appears to have had a Foundation nearer home. For it seems Pindar had celebrated one of Alexander's Fami­ly and Name; and had the happiness to put a Com­pliment on the very Name; by accosting the Gentle­man with

The Ruines of Pindar's House were to be seen at Thebes, in Pausanias's time^a: who liv'd under Anto­ninus the Philosopher.

Of all the numerous Works which he is said to have compos'd, we have only his four Books of Hymns of Triumph, on the Conquerors at the four Renown'd Games of Greece; the Olympian, the Pythi­an, the Nemaean and the Isthmian. It seems 'twas a common thing to hire Pindar for this service, and no Victory was thought compleat 'till it had the appro­bation of bis Muse. To which purpose there is one particular Story on Record: that when Pytheas had gain'd the Prize in the Nemaean Games, at Wrestling, and at the Caestus, his Friends presently made their Application to Pindar, to procure an Ode in his Ho­nour. But the Poet demanding so large a Reward as Three (or rather Three thousand) Drachms, they went away in a Huff, telling him that for that Price, they could purchase their Friend's Statue in Copper. However, upon better consideration they attended Pindar again, renewing their suit and offering to gra­tifie him as he desir'd. Upon which occasion he be­gan the Ode (which is the fifth Nemaean) after this manner^c.

His Poems are of so difficult a Character, that the Greatest Judges are commonly satisfied with confirm­ing his General Title of Prince and Father of Lyri­ques; without engaging in the search of his particular Excellencies. For, that prodigious elevation of Spi­rit, that amazing Beauty of Sentences, that boundless scope of Thought, and that daring Liberty of Figures and of Measures, are as likely to deter a Critick as an Imitator. His Pegasus, as Mr. Cowley sayes, Flings Writer and Reader too that sits not sure.

Horace, tho' he appear'd his most dangerous Rival, yet had generosity enough to give him his just Com­mendations, as he had Judgment enough to six them on a due bottom. From Horace therefore, es­pecially since he has been improv'd by Mr. Cowley, we are to take our true notions of the Genius and the Stile of Pindar.

Monsieur Perrault in his late Parralel, as he has manag'd the Charge against all the Celebrated Au­thors[Page 76]of Antiquity, so he has been particularly severe upon Pindar; and given him less Quarter than the rest. He censures him as ‘a speaker of impenetrable Ga­limathies (or extravagant flights) such as no Man could ever underst and, and such as Horace slily scouted when he call'd him inimitable.’ In short, to keep on his Custom of beginning with bold strokes, he de­clares the first Verses in the first Ode to be unaccoun­table Nonsence; and from that Specimen would have us frame our Notions of all the rest.

The most admirable Boileau, who in his Reflexions on Longinus, has done Perrault the honour of a Con­futation; is pleas'd to set this passage in its true light, and to make it so clear, as even his Adversary might understand it. He tells us, we must remember that Pindar liv'd in the next times to Thales, Pythagoras and Anaxagoras, the Famous Natural Philosophers; who had taught with so great success. The Opinion of Thales, who made Water the first Principle of Things was in particular esteem. Now Empedocles the Sicilian, Scholar to Anaxagoras, and Cotempo­rary with Pindar, had carried matters farther than any of them: and had not only penetrated very deep into the Knowledge of Nature, but (as Lucretius after­wards did) had adorn'd the whole Science in Verse. This Poem rais'd his Character to such a pitch in Greece, that they scarce thought him of Mortal De­scent. The entire Work has long since perish'd; but there's a Tradition that it began with the praises of the Elements; and 'tis not likely the formation of Gold and other Mettals should be left untouch'd. Now Pindar being to compose his first Olympick Ode in honour of King Hiero, who had won the Prize at the Horse-race, begins with the most simple and the most natural thought in the World. That, if he were inclin'd to sing of the Wonders of Nature, then in imitation of Empedocles, he would celebrate Water [Page 77] [...]nd Gold, as the two most excellent and most useful [...]hings that we enjoy. But, that, having consecrated [...]is Muse to the Praises of Men, he resolv'd to illu­strate the Olympick Games, which were the Noblest Exercises of Mankind. And that to say there was any other Contest so Noble as the Olympick, was the same thing, as to pretend that there was some other Luminary in Heaven of equal Glory with the Sun. This is Pindar's thought in it's Natural order, and as a Rhetorician would have express'd it in exact Prose: let us see now how Pindar has set it off in Verse.

‘There's nothing so excellent as Water: There's nothing more resplendent than Gold; which distinguishes itself a­mong proud Riches, like Fire that blazes in the Night. But, O my Friendly Genius, since thou art most delighted to sing of Combats; don't thou imagine, that in the migh­ty Void of Heaven when Day appears, there can be disco­ver'd any other Luminary so radiant as the Sun; or that on Earth we can say there's any other Contest so Noble as the Olympick.’

This Translation is almost word for word; at least nothing new is introduc'd except [on Earth] which[Page 78]the Sence naturally requir'd. And tho' 'tis not ex­pected that the beauty of the Original should be dis­cover'd in such a dry Copy; because that consists in a great measure in the Numbers, the Disposition and the Magnificence of the Words, yet there is some shadow of Majesty and Nobleness preserv'd un­der this plain Dress. But now it's worth while to see what a strange disguize the same substance bears in Perraults Version. ‘L'eau est tres bonne à la veritê, & l' or qui brille comme le feu durant la nuit, é clate merveilleusement parmy les richesses qui rendent l' homme superbe. Mais mon esprit, si tu desires chanter les combats, ne contemple point d' autre astre plus lumineux que le soleil pendant le jour, dans le vague de l' air; car nous ne scaurions chan­ter de combats plus illustres que le combats Olympiques ^a.’ ‘Truly Water's a very good thing, and Gold which glitters, as Fire in the Night, sparkle's wonderfully a­mong Riches that make Men proud. But thou, my Ge­nius, if thou desirest to sing of Combats, don't look on any other Star more radiant than the Sun, in the Day time a­long the empty Air. But, we don't know how to sing of any Encounters more Noble than the Olympicks.’

Either this is design'd meerly for a Piece of Bur­lesque: and then Pindar's Character is in no Danger of suffering by it: or else the Translator has shame­fully forgot his Greek when he gravely renders the little expletives; which were never intended to enter the Construction. But, not to insist on lesser failings, the thing which spoils the whole Sence of the passage, is what ignorance it self could scarce suggest, but what must be rather owing to insincerity; and and that is, the turning the Greek [...] and the[Page 79]Latin ne, into the French car, or but; whence all the connexion and dependance is lost.

So that, upon the whole matter the Galimathies and the unaccountable Nonsence, are not to be found in the Greek but in the French. And Perrault has shown no other mark of a Translator of Pindar, but that which Mr. Cowley speaks of, the knack of ma­king People think, that one Madman has Translated another.

If, after all, Perrault and his modish Followers should renew the Charge, and say, that there's as little Foundation for any Version, as for theirs; and that they cannot by any means understand the con­nexion here between the Water and the Gold and the Olympick Games; not to refer them to the Greek Scholia, which by their tedious Exposition may chance to countenance their obstinacy; they may be pleas'd to look so far as the latter end of the third Ode of the same Book; and then they will meet with the same Figure, and the same terms, more closely tied together.

But it were well if the new Censors had a quar­rel only against some particular places in Pindar. For indeed we find them laying a general Accusation a­gainst him, for little less than downright distraction. They build this scandal on his unaccountable Digres­sions and the furious rambles of his Wit. They think it the highest pitch of raving absurdity; while they see him addressing one of his Odes to some Great Man, and pretending to celebrate his Victory; when perhaps he presently runs off to some fabulous Adventure of the Gods or ancient Heroes, and scarce spares time to give his Patron a parting Com­pliment in the Conclusion. The common Answer to this Impeachment is drawn from the nature of Pindar's way of Writing: this Libertinism of Con­duct being the very Life and Soul of his Pieces. On which account Monsieur Boileau ^a has fix'd it as the ruling excellency of an Ode, that

It's plain Pindar was sensible of his hardiness, in wandring so loosly from the main Subject. And therefore after a long heat of any forreign Story, we find him very often, reprehending his Muse for ‘shoot­ing any of her Arrows at Rovers, when he would have her empty all her Quiver on the chief mark.’ But this might not be with design to beg pardon, but to show his skill. For, as he took an extraordinary delight in using this Metaphor of Quiver and Arrows for his[Page 81]Wit, so 'twas his Privilege, to let (as Mr. Cowley ex­presses it)

In his Tenth Pythique he plead's his Title to this Li­berty, at large; comparing his Spirit and Wit to a Boat, as he does often to a Chariot, a Bird, and the like. He introduces the Apology by his usual sleight of correcting his Muses fury, and advising Her to Caution and Regularity.

But indeed, it is a kind of begging the Question, to make Pindar plead his Prerogative for the decision of [Page 82]this Cause. To say, that 'twas the manner or the way of those Odes to be so bold and so Licentious, while this manner, or this way is the very thing that the Adversaries complain of. But if it could be tolerably made out, that besides the hardy freedom of his Genius, he was upon account of his Subjects, in a great measure oblig'd to this Conduct; then the Cavil must necessary fall, or at least be transferr'd from the Poet to the Times. Yet, upon a fair Hear­ing, this would be no difficult Task. For we ought to consider that these Odes of Victory were all compos'd to be sung by a Chorus of Men at Publick Festivals and Meetings, assisted with the advantages of Instrumen­tal Musick. If any question the truth of this Asser­tion, Pindar himself will satisfie them, in almost eve­ry Piece. But in the 10th of the Olympiques he will give them an account how the Custom of these Pa­negyrical Hymns came to be introduced, and how he designs to carry it on. He has been describing the Institution of the Olympian Games by Hercules, and reckoning up the Victories in the several Exerci­ses at their first Celebration. Whom, when their Labours were finish'd, he make's to have been thus entertain'd.

Now it would have been an invidious, as well as a tiresom business, to fill a Hymn that was design'd for General Entertainment, with the direct Praises of a single Man: and, now and then, of a Man, not [Page 84]very eminent on any other account, but for his good Fortune in winning the Prize at some of the Publick Exercises. But the Old Relations of the Acts of Hea­ven and Heaven-born Heroes, were what every Body long'd for and admir'd; especially when they heard them given with new improvements of Wit and Lan­guage. Therefore, as to this Conduct, Pindar's Ene­mies ought rather to admire the strength of his Judg­ment, than rail at the Wildness of his Fancy. And especially, since, whatever they may pretend, his Di­gressions are seldom forced in without occasion. The Gods or Consecrated Heroes do not intrude them­selves uncivilly into a Poem where they are not con­cern'd. The Gentleman whom Pindar particularly addresses, has commonly some near relation to them: They are either the Founders of his City, or of his Family, or the Institutors of the Games in which he has Conquer'd: Or famous for some of those Virtues, which the Poet celebrates in his Patron.

But the trouble might have been spar'd of attempt­ing formally to answer these two Objections. For, as silly or malicious Accusers generally spoil their whole Charge by endeavoring to heighten and in­crease it; so the same nice Palats, which cannot re­lish Pindar on the scores already mention'd, plainly show where the Distemper lies, by adding a farther Reason of their Disgust. Their formidable Champion Perrault is not asham'd to bring this as an Argument of the little Merit of Pindar's Works, that their chief Use is to furnish Great Readers and Collectors with a stock of Moral Sentences. And now we may ap­peal to any one, whether Envy has not been very unhappy, to pitch on an unquestion'd Virtue for a Crime. For till Profit and Instruction are denied to be the main ends of Poetry; Pindar, even according to this Judgment, has a fair Title at least to half the Laurels; while he is acknowledg'd to advance the Work of Virtue in the World.

[Page 85]Indeed, if a Man consider'd carefully our igno­rance in those things which were the foundation of Pindar's Writings, the various Ceremonies of the Games, and the particularities of Times, Persons and Places; besides our weak Notions of his Language and Numbers: he would be apt to six his Morality, for a much surer as well as a much Nobler Praise than what we can pretend at this distance to build on the excellencies of his Manners and of his Style. That will turn to Use when these are only admir'd. If we can't copy the Beauties of his Fancy we may improve by the strength of his Wisdom, to which his Fancy lent it's Charms. If his Spirit of Poetry dis­dain to be within our reach, his Spirit of Honesty and Goodness will admit a more easie Imitation: And tho' we cannot soar beyond the Clouds, with his Wit; we may make a nobler Flight, by the assistance of his Piety.

Now not to make a Catalogue of all the excellent Passages we meet with in Pindar, concerning the dif­ferent Estate of Good and Bad Men after this Life, the just inequality of the Distributions of Providence, and the incapacity of Men to judge of the Actions of Heaven; with the Wise Lessons on almost every par­ticular Vertue: How Glorious it looks in an Heathen Poet, to protest against that dangerous Vice of his Art, the delivering unworthy Stor [...]s about the So­veraign Beings? Yet this is Pindar's settled Maxim in his very first Ode,

And presently after, he professes his abhorrence of charging the Gods with the Crimes of Men.

In the Ninth Olympick he gives his Muse a Cau­tion, of the same strain of Piety

And farther we find him^a declaring positively that he will give the Old Relations quite different from all that w [...]t before him, rather than suffer any dishonour to be reflected on the Divine Subjects.

So that if on other accounts Pindar claims the So­veraignty, not only in his own Province of Lyriques, but over the Masters of all the different Strains, ex­cepting Homer: in this point of pious decency (when we remember the severe Charge against the Iliad and the Odyssey for unworthily representing the Supream Powers of Heaven) Homer himself might yeild him[Page 87]the Precedency: And Horace might alter the modest Boast^* much to His Advantage; where he now as­signs Homer the first Place in Fame as his unquestion'd Right, and only observes that Pindar's Muse is not without her due Honour and Esteem.

AESCHYLƲS.

AESchylus was by Desent an Athenian, Son to Eu­phorion; his Family referring its Original to the [...] or Primitive Inhabitants^a. The strange difference in the accounts of his Age, has been sometimes alleg'd by Learned Men, as an emi­nent instance of the confusion of ancient Cronology. The Author of the Old Greek Life commonly pre­fix'd to his Works, says he came into the World in the 40th Olympiad; and yet just before, he has made him (as indeed he was) Cotemporary with Pindar; who is generally plac'd later by an Age. Therefore the Great Casaubon corrects the Numbers in the Old Life, from 40 to 63; in the last Year of which Olympiad Aeschylus's Birth is fix'd by the Learned Mr. Stanly, on the Faith of the Arundelian Marble.

There goes a Story of the ordinary Grecian strain, that being a Boy, and watching the Fruit in a Vine­yard, Bacchus appear'd to him, and commanded him to write Tragedies. And, that the very next Morn­ing he set to Work, and found all things succeed as [Page 88]happily as he could wish^a. Perhaps this Tale about his Adventure with Bacchus, might give occasion to the common report of his making all his Pieces when he was drunk; which we find recorded by ^b Plutarch and ^c Lucian. Thus much may be affirm'd without any great Scruple, that he fell on this Study while very Young, and quickly silenced the fame of all his Predecessors in the Art; as well by introducing a no­bler Strain of Verse, as by reforming the rude Stage with the Ornaments of Habits and of Scenes.

He is said to have been valiant beyond the ordi­nary pitch of Poets; and, with his two Brothers, to have born an honourable part in the three Famous Battles of Greece, at Marathon, Salamis, and ^d Plataea. In the second of these Engagements his Younger Brother Amynias was Chief Officer of a Squadron of Ships; and had the first Prize decreed him after the Victo­ry; as having behav'd himself the best of all the Gre­cian Captains, oversetting the Persian Admiral, and killing her Commander^e.

'Twas to the Courage and the Reputation of this Brother that Aeschylus afterwards happen'd to owe his Life. For being Condemn'd as a Despiser of the Gods upon account of one of his bolder Tragedies; when the Athenians were just proceeding to stone him to Death; Amynias getting near the Judges, pull'd his Arm from under his Garment, and show'd it in the Face of the Court without a Hand; that hav­ing been lost at Salamis in the Defence of his Coun­try. The Judges were so happily mov'd with this noble Mark of Honour, that they immediately ac­quitted the Poet, on no other Plea, but the having so Brave a Man of his Family^f.

[Page 89]It's plain from this Arraignment, that Aeschylus's Countrymen had no great opinion of his Virtue. Which without doubt was one reason of his willing­ness to leave them: tho' he did not put the design in execution, till upon farther Resentments. Either, as is commonly believ'd, because the Judges of the Thea­tre had affronted him in letting Sophocles, who had been his Scholar, carry away the Tragick Prize from him: Or perhaps, because Simonides had infinitely outdone him, when they both compos'd Elegies on the Brave Grecians that fell at ^a Marathon. Suidas has recorded a reason, that, if literally taken must needs have hasten'd his Flight more than both these put to­gether. That, while one of his Plays was in Acting the Seats and Galleries of the Theatre had unluckily tumbled down. But the Younger Scaliger ^b has taught us a way of making this account of Suidas, the same in substance with the first; if not with ei­ther of these already mention'd. For he will have the breaking of the Seats to have been an old Ironical Expression of the Comedians and Satyrists to signifie the ill success of a Play, or other Poem in the Thea­tre. On the strength of which conjecture, he inter­prets Juvenal's

in a quite contrary manner to the Common Exposi­tors; as if it intimated that Statius's Thebais did not take at the Publick Recitation. The only thing that can recommend this fancy is the approbation of it by the Judicious Mr. Stanly. But perhaps that Worthy Gentleman did not consider, that, as to the passage of Juvenal, Scaliger himself seems to have retracted his Notion, in his Work De Emendatione Temporum ^c.

[Page 90] Aeschylus chose Sicily for the place of his Retire­ment, where he arriv'd just at the time when King Hiero was Building the City Aetna: and made his first Addresses to his New Hosts in a Tragedy, which borrow'd the Name of that Town, and was employ'd in prophetically describing the future Wealth and Greatness of the Inhabitants^a.

Having liv'd at Gela in that Island several Years, in the highest esteem with Prince and People, he died after this unfortunate manner.

As he was walking one day in the Fields, an Eagle that had lighted on a Tortoise, and was soaring in the Air with her Prey till she could see a Place below hard enough to break it: unluckily took Aeschylus's bald Crown for a Stone, and accordingly let fall the Shell directly upon his Head; which instead of cracking itself dash'd out His Brains^b. They tell us, he had receiv'd an Oracle some time before, de­claring that he should die by a Weapon sent from Hea­ven ^c.

He was Buried very Honourably near the River Gela; all the Tragedians in those parts performing Drama's at his Tomb^d. On which was inscrib'd this Epitaph, said to have been compos'd by himself a little before his Death^e;

However the Name of Aeschylus has suffer'd from the Criticks, who sometimes exclaim against him in as furious Language as his own; yet it will always be a sufficient Honour to his Memory, to have him ac­knowledg'd for the Father of his Art, and the Great Discoverer of that happy Way, which 'twas an easie matter for those that came after him to make straight­er and smoother.

It's generally agreed that Tragedy was at first no more than a Continued Song of the Chorus. Af­terwards Thespis, whom Horace ^a, calls the Inventor of the Tragick Muse, found it convenient to add one Person above the Chorus, who to relieve them and give them Breath might entertain the Audience with the Recital of some Illustrious Adventure. Now Aeschylus, as soon as ever he came to compare these rude Essays with his own design; found that this single Person tired the Audience more than he re­freshed the Chorus. And therefore he divided the Action between many Persons; one of which was gene­rally honour'd with the Principal Character, and the rest were the Attendants of his Story and of his For­tune. Thus, as Monsieur Dacier observes, this part of Tragedy which was at first introduc'd only as an agreeable Relief, came to be the Principal Design; and the Chorus for the future serv'd only to ease the Persons, as the Person had been first admitted to re­pair the Chorus. Before Aeschylus the Actors had not so much as a Publick House to Show in; and e­ven under the Command of his Predecessor Thespis, [Page 92]were contented with the Moveable Stage of a Cart. But Aeschylus, as he chang'd their open Scene to a Theatre, so he furnish'd them with a Masque, in­stead of their rude Disguize of Soot and Lie. Be­sides, he set them off with the proper Ornaments of Dress, agreeable to the several Characters they were to sustain; and by the assistance of Buskins advan­ced them to the fancied pitch and size of Heroes^a. Nor is it a mean addition to his Glory, that he was the first, who took care to have all the killing busi­ness transacted behind the Scenes, that the People might not be disgusted by such Cruel and Unnatural Sights^b.

Yet, after all these Honourable Performances, he has found (as was at first hinted) exceeding hard mea­sure from many Ancient as well as Modern Judges; only because he did not advance his Art to that Noble Degree which Sophocles and Euripides afterwards at­tain'd. His Designs are censur'd, as Extravagant; his Conduct as rude and simple; and his Language, as windy Rant. 'Tis for this reason that the Com­mon Masters, when they lay down their Rules for Tragedy, recommending only his two Successors for the Great Examples of Perfection, seldom honour Aeschylus with their Notice; unless when he is to be corrected for some miscarriage. The other mighty Chiefs are set for Marks and Lights to steer by; while the Father of their Profession can assord nothing but the Patterns of Rocks and Shelves, to be avoid­ed.

And, yet all the while, if we may depend on the Judgement of Tully ^a, every Person in this Grand Triumvirate ‘deserv'd almost an equal praise in a different way of writing.’ Now how to assign each Author [Page 93]his particular Excellency is confess'd a hard task e­ven by those who are so generous as to allow Aeschy­lus any. ^b Dacier has propos'd two ways of assigning their proper Characters; the first in relation to their Style, which he borrows from Dionysius Halicarnassaeus; and the other on account of the different species of Tragedy: how each Man succeeded best in some particular kind. As for Stile, he attributes the rude to Aeschylus, the Florid to Euripides, and the mixt to Sophocles. In the division of Tragedy; he takes Aeschylus's Talent to have laid in that which he calls simple pathetique: Sophocles to have done best in the implexe, and Euripides in the Moral. Both these Distinctions, how true soever they may be, yet as they divide the Laurel are like to give Aeschylus but a very inconsiderable share. The French Critick professes after all, that he shall be oblig'd to any Person who would give a more equal Judgment be­tween them. And he might have paid these Obli­gations to no less a Man than Plutarch. 'Tis from His decisive sentence that we are to learn what Title each Rival had to Fame, without invading the Pre­rogatives of the others. The three reigning Vir­tues then, which Plutarch had the Art to discover, were ‘ [...] ^c.’ ‘The Wisdom of Euripides, the Eloquence of Sophocles, and the Loftiness of Aeschylus.’

The Graces of his Successors may be better insist­ed on hereafter: at present we are only concern'd to vindicate this Excellency of our Poet; which is commonly alledg'd as his greatest Crime. Indeed, if Nature and the Common Apprehensions of Men were always to be the Rules of Sublimity; Aeschylus would perpetually be a Trangressor. But it should[Page 94]be remembred, that his business lay among the Old Race of Heroes; And, as he rais'd them above Human Pitch by their Buskins, so he could not but distin­guish them as much, by something more than Mor­tal in their Voice and Tone. Besides, those Pri­mitive Worthies were entire Strangers to all that fineness of Language and nicety of Manners, which serv'd to disguize the Weakness of their decay'd Posterity. There seem'd to be a Natural Violence in their Tempers: And 'twas as hard for them to use any calmness in their Talk, as in their Fights. It was long since the Judgment of the Famous Orator Dion, that ‘whatever appears in Aeschylus of extravagant Grandeur, of ancient rudeness, and of a kind of stubbornness in thought and expression, seems more agreeable to the Manners of the Old Heroes ^a.’

It will easily be confess'd, that our Poet by aim­ing continually at bold and hardy strokes, has very often fallen into gross Thoughts and harsh Expres­sions, as the most admir'd Longinus ^b observes of him. But then before he is condemn'd, he will claim the Benefit of the same Critick's Maxim, ‘that a Sublime Style with a great many failures, is to be pre­fer'd to the Middle Way, how ever exactly hit ^c.’ For they who venturing nothing, go on gravely in the plain Road, lie under no great Danger of Miscar­rying. While the more exalted Path is still the more slippery, the more it shines. And it is below the Stile, as well as the Persons of Heroes to stoop to Trifles.

If Instruction be acknowleg'd for the Chief End of Poetry, Aeschylus's Pieces may pass for Moral Lectures, as well as those of Sophocles and Euripides. And though he may not possibly have had Art[Page 95]enough to dress up Virtue in all her Ornaments and her Charms; yet he has certainly display'd Vice, in it's most horrible Shapes: as it was in­deed easier for him to Paint a Monster than a Beauty.

At the same time it must be acknowledg'd that he understood little of what was afterwards call'd Nature and Fineness: But that possessing a vast and elevated Fancy, he endeavour'd by the force of Prodigies and Fables to astonish and Terrifie the Audience, whom he could not entertain agreeably by the Rules of Decency and Art. To this purpose, they tell a famous Story, that when his Eumenides was Acted, the Chorus of Furies entring in a violent manner on the Stage, the People were put into such a Fright, that the Children Swoon'd away, and the Big-belli'd Women immediately miscar­ri'd^a.

Yet even in this Care of making Terror the Chief End of his Pieces, he seems not so much to have been out in the Choice as in the Prosecution of his Design. For, however the soft movement of the Passions may have usurped the chief place in Tragedy, it is certain the Audience ought some­times to be transported as well as gently agitated. Horace reckon'd it the noblest power of a Poet, when he acts with the violence of Enchantments on the Persons he entertains,

And Horace's Great Rival among the Moderns declares, that a Tragedian will but lose his[Page 96]Labour, if he does not mix the force of Ter­ror with the Charms of Agreeableness and Sweet­ness:

SOPHOCLES.

SOphocles, was an Athenian, the Son of Sophilus as Suidas, or Theophilus, as Diodorus Siculus calls him. The time of his Birth is placed by the Arun­delian Marble in the Fourth Year of the 70th Olym­piad: So that he was Eight and Twenty Years Younger than Aeschylus, and Twelve Years Older than Euripides.

[Page 98]Tho' he was but a Boy at the time of Xerxes's Famous Expedition into Greece, yet he had the ho­nour to bear no mean part in the Triumphs that follow'd his Defeat. For, when upon the flight of that Prince and the entire rout of all his Generals, the Grecians were raising Trophies to continue the memory of the Actions: our Young Sophocles, being then at Salamis, while the Men were employ'd in sixing the Monuments of the Victory, is reported to have appear'd at the Head of a Choir of Noble Boys, all naked and wash'd over with Oyl and Essence; and, while they sung a Paean, to have guided the Measures with his Harp^a.

His Father was no better than a Mechanick by Profession, yet being high in favour with Pericles, and the Chief of the City, found means to educate him in all the Gentiler Parts of Knowledge and of Wit^b. His noblest Art of Tragedy he attain'd un­der the Tutorage of Aeschylus ^c, who had newly re­form'd and illustrated that sort of Poesy.

There can't be a more famous Argument of his Prosiciency in those Studies, than that his earliest Triumph was in the Conquest of his Master. For Cimon (the renown'd Athenian General, whose Life we find in Plutarch) having perform'd successfully his search of Thesens's Bones, and bringing the Noble Reliques with Publick shouts into the City: A so­lemn Contention of Tragedians was appointed, as was usual on such extraordinary Occasions. The two Great Rivals in the Performance were Aeschy­lus and Sophocles, and the Applause seem'd so equally divided, that the Archon whose business 'twas to con­stitute Judges of the Prize, dar'd not pitch on any Persons for so ticklish an Office. At last Cimon, [Page 99]and the other Commanders entring the Theatre to see the Sport, the Archon seiz'd on them (happening to be the proper Number) and giving them the Oaths made them sit down for Umpires of the Cause. The Contention was carried on with all the Heat that Honour and Ambition could inspire; each Per­son labouring with more than his ordinary force to gain so Honourable a Verdict on his side. Upon a full Hearing, the Victory was adjudg'd to Sophocles, tho' this were the first Play he ever presented in Pub­lick^a.

The Esteem and Wonder that all Greece express'd at his Wisdom, made him conceiv'd to be the pe­culiar Favourite, or rather the intimate Friend of the Gods. They tell us that Aesculapius did him the Ho­nour to visit him at his House^b. And it should seem that Hercules had no less respect for him, from a Story of Tully's. For among his Instances of Divi­nation, he thus produce's Sophocles as a memorable Example. ‘"There happen'd, (say's he) a Golden Patin to be stol'n out of Hercules's Temple. Sophocles saw in a Dream the God appearing to him and telling him the Name of the Thief. He took little notice of the Vision for that time, or the next; but upon a frequent repetition he went boldly into Court, and declar'd such a Person to be guil­ty of the Sacrilege. The Judges immediately or­der'd the Man to be apprehended; who upon Ex­amination confess'd the Fact, and restor'd the Ves­sel. On which account the Temple came to be call'd Hercules the Discoverer's ^c."’ The Great Im­postor Apollonius Tyanaeus attribute's a much Diviner Power to him. For in his Oration before Domitian, he tell's the Emperour, that Sophocles the Athenian [Page 100]was able to check and restrain the furious Winds, when they were visiting his Country at an unseaso­ble Time^a.

The same opinion of his extraordinary Worth gain'd him a free Passage to the highest Offices in the State. We find him in Strabo, going in joint Commission with the famous Pericles, to reduce the rebellious Samians. 'Twas during his continuance in this Honour, that he receiv'd the severe Repri­mand from his Collegue, which Cicero has left upon record. They were standing and conferring about their Common Affairs, when there happen'd to run by, a very beautiful Young Boy: Sophocles, could not but take notice of his Prettiness, and began to express his own admiration to his Brother Pericles: To which the Grave General return'd this memora­ble Reply, a Praetor, ‘Sophocles, should observe Conti­nency with his Eyes as well as with his Hands ^c.’

But whatever inclinations the Poet might then have; (as indeed his Chastity is deeply suspected) yet they may in some measure be excus'd as the ef­fects of a Passion submitted to on no other account, but because it was unconquerable. For thus we find him rejoycing at last, that by the Benefit of Old Age he was deliver'd from the severe Tyranny of Love^d.

Tully, in his admir'd Book de Senectute brings in Sophocles, as an Example to show that the weakness of the memory and Parts, is not a necessary atten­dant on the Condition he there defends. He observes that this Great Man continued the Profession of his Art, even to his latest Years: But it seems his Sons resented this severe Application to Writing, as a ma­nifest neglect of his Family and Estate: On which[Page 101]account, they at last declared the Business in Court before the Judges; desiring the Guardianship of their Father, as one that was grown delirous and so put out of a capacity to manage his Concerns. The Old Gentleman being soon acquainted with the Mo­tion, in order to his Defence, came presently into Court, and recited his Oedipus of Colonos, a Tragedy which he had just before finish'd; desiring to know whether that Piece look'd like the Work of a Mad­man. There needed no other Plea to gain the Cause. The Judges admiring and applauding his Wit, not only acquitted him of the Charge, but as Lucian adds, voted his Sons Mad-men for accusing Him.

The General Story goes, that having exhibited his last Play, and getting the Prize, he fell into such a Transport of Joy, as carried him off^a. Tho' Lu­cian ^b differs from the Common Report, affirming him to have been choak'd with a Grape-stone, like Anacreon.

They tell a remarkable Accident that attended his Funeral. He died, they say, at Athens, at the time when the Lacedaemonians were besieging the City: for which reason, the Solemnity of his Burial could not be carried on. Lysander the Spartan General, used at the same time, frequently to have a Vision of Bacchus, desiring him to suffer his Dearest Servant to be Interr'd. Upon this, Lysander made enquiry of the Besieg'd, what eminent Persons had lately died in the Town: And finding, upon Information that his Vision must needs be understood of Sophocles, in as much as Bacchus was the Patron and President of the Tragedians, he granted them a Truce for the de­cent performance of his last Honours^c. It is obser­vable[Page 102]that this Story about Lysander does not agree with our Marble Chronicle, which places the Death of Sophocles in the Second Year of the 93d Olympiad, whereas the Siege of Athens did not fall out 'till the Fourth Year of the same Olympiad, the 27th of the Peleponnesian War^a.

If Aeschylus be stil'd the Father, Sophocles, will demand the Title of Master of Tragedy. What one brought into the World the other adorn'd with true shapes and Features, and with all the Accomplish­ments and Perfections it's Nature was capable of.

Diogenes Laertius, when he would give us the high­est Idea of the Advances Plato made in Philosophy, compares them to the Improvements of Sophocles in the Tragick Art. The chiefest of these Monsieur Boileau has thus reckon'd up and applauded.

His Conduct and his Expressions, are the Advan­tages, which commonly gain him the Prize, against the two Rivals of his own Age, and the more une­qual[Page 103]Contenders since. The first of these Virtues has made his Oedipus the General Rule and Model of true Plotting. The other is that [...] which Plu­tarch fixes as the distinguishing mark of his Character, and of his Fame.

One of his most judicious Artifices, and on the account of which Aristotle ^a gives him the Preference to Euripides, was his allowing the Chorus an Interest in the main Action, so as to make the Play all of a piece; every thing conducing regularly to the chief Design. Whereas in Euripides we often meet with a rambling Song of the Chorus, intirely independent of the main Business, and as proper to be us'd on any other Subject or Occasion whatsoever.

Indeed the stiffest Patrons of Euripides are willing enough to allow Sophocles the poor Glory of Mecha­nism and Contexture; provided they can but secure the Nobler Talents of Wit and Stile, to the possessi­on of their Friend. At the same time, the Applauders of Sophocles, will come to no Composition, nor yield the least part of the Tragick Laurels to the pretensi­ons of the opposite Party. Or now and then, per­haps, if they are in a Generous Fit, they will ac­knowledge Euripides to have attain'd a Clearness and Happiness of Stile; but then it must arise from igno­bler means: And what Sophocles owe's only to the force of Genius and the Native loftiness of thought, his Rival must faintly imitate, by an exactness of care, and a skilful ranging of Words and Sentences. The Compositions of Sophocles must relish of the World, while those of Euripides betray the harsher twang of the School. Those must be the best Tragedies, these the best Socratick Discourses. Those must have the Air of a Gentleman and of a Commander, these of a Plausible [Page 104]Declaimer. And, in short, Sophocles must be the greatest Poet, and Euripides the greatest Philoso­pher.

Now, if there were room for a moderate Judg­ment, tho' the Palm would perhaps be divided more equally, yet Sophocles would still stand fairest to car­ry off the larger share. The Ancients have been ve­ry cautious, whenever they entred on so dangerous a point. Few Judges have had the hardiness to declare positively on either side; except one or two, who ho­nour Sophocles with the Title of Prince of Tragedy. Yet we have some reason to conclude from the broad hints of Historians and Critiques, that the Perfor­mances of the same Great Man, were not only more applauded on the Athenian Stage, but always esteem'd the highest Attainments in the Tragick Strain.

Aristotle ^a indeed, has given Euripides the ho­nourable Epithet of [...], but it's easie to dis­cover, that he can mean only the most pathetick. Whereas, take him all together, and he seems to give Sophocles the Precedency: at least in the most Noble Perfections of Manners, Oeconomy and Stile.

Dionysius Halicarnassaeus in his Art of Rhetorick^b commends Sophocles for preserving the Dignity of his Persons and their real Characters, whereas Eu­ripides, he says, did not so much consult the Truth of his Manners, and their conformity to Common Life; on which account, he is often deficient in Grace and Decorum. He gives the Prize on the same side in his two following Distinctions; That Sophocles wisely chose the Noblest and the most Ge­nerous Manners and Affections to represent: while Euripides employ'd himself in expressing the more dishonest, effeminate and abject Passions. That the [Page 105]former never says any thing but what is exactly ne­cessary; whereas the other frequently amuses the Reader with tedious Oratorical Inductions. And tho' at the conclusion of the Comparison, he applauds the Stile of Euripides as an happy attainment of the Mid­dle Way; yet he seems to add his, only to temper the severity of his former Judgment; and, for fear he should be thought to detract too much from the Reputation of so admir'd an Author, by giving his Rival the Advantage in all points.

Longinus, seems all along to favour the same Cause, as far as it was safe to venture. And in one place^a he directly censures Euripides as a Writer more happy in the marshalling of his Words, than in the sence of his Thoughts.

Dion Chrysostom the Orator, who has nicely com­par'd the Three Famous Tragedians in his little Piece of Philoctetes's Bow; confesses, that the Verses of So­phocles, do not abound like those of Euripides in Ex­hortations to Virtue: yet observes on the other hand, that they have such a happy mixture of Grandeur and Delight, as to deserve the Honour the Ancients did the Poet in calling him the BEE.

It is obvious to add, that if Euripides aspires to the same Title, it must rather be on account of his Wax, than of his Honey, rather for the Use he gives us, than the Pleasure.

EƲRIPIDES.

EUripides, as well as his two famous Rivals, was born of a Creditable Athenian Family. Parti­cularly his Mother Clito, is reported of Noble De­scent^a: tho' Aristophanes ^b in jest calls her a Cabbage­seller, and Valerius Maximus ^c records this as her real [Page 107]Profession. It's said, while she was with Child, her Husband Mensarchus consulted the Oracle of Apollo, to know what he might hope for; and that he re­ceiv'd these Verses in Answer.

He was born in the Island Salamis, whither his Fa­ther and Mother had fled, with a great many other eminent Families of Athens, upon the formidable Design of Xerxes against Greece. His Birth is placed by the Arundelian Marble in the Fourth Year of the 73d Olympiad: tho' the Learned Mr. Barnes, fol­lowing the common opinion, that he came into the World on the famous day of the Sea-fight near Sala­mis, in the Streights which they call'd the Euripus, and that he borrow'd thence his Name, brings him down Six Years later. Indeed, Hesychius in his Lives of Famous Men, says positively, that he was born on the day of that Great Victory; but then he adds immediately after, that this was a good Omen of the Athenians success: And therefore it should seem, even according to Hesychius, only to have fallen out on the same day in a former Year. If his Name was bor­row'd from the Euripus, perhaps he might not have been call'd so at first; but might have received that Honour upon observation that the Noble Engagement there, happen'd on his Birth-day^b

[Page 108]At what time he remov'd with his Father and Mother to Athens is not certain. However, he was so far in Love with his Native Island, as afterwards to honour it with frequent Visits: and Aulus Gellius ^a tells us, he himself was show'd there, an old melan­choly Cave, where Euripides was reported to have written many of his Tragedies.

It seems Mnesarchus, however he might Pride him­self in Apollo's Promise, yet had put no higher sence on the words of the Oracle, than that his Son should win the Prize in the Olympick Games. According­ly he took care, to bring him up in the Exercises of Strength and Activity, perform'd in those Solemni­ties^b. But Euripides, tho' he made so good progress in these Feats of Body as to gain the Crown at the Athenian Sports in honour of Ceres, and of Theseus; yet had always much greater thoughts in his Head. And therefore, whilst his Father was labouring all he could, to forward his Proficiency in the Palaestra; he made a Nobler Choice for himself, proving a constant Auditor to Anaxagoras in Philosophy, and to Prodicus in Rhetorick; and diverting himself in the mean time, with the Art of Painting, which some will have, to have been at first his open Profession^c. It is not very probable, that he learnt Morality un­der Socrates, as Aulus Gellius reports. For then we must make the Scholar older than the Master. 'Tis much more reasonable to believe, and much more to the Honour of Euripides, that some part of the Philosopher's Wisdom, should be owing to his Tra­gick Pieces. For Aelian ^d acquaints us, that Socra­tes, used to frequent those Plays, as useful and in­structive Lessons; when at the same time, he despis'd all other Representations on the Stage.

[Page 109]The occasion of our Poet's falling to Tragedy, was the extream danger his Master Anaxagoras had incurr'd by his Learning: who under the notion of a despiser of the Publick Gods, was bannish'd Athens by the fury of the Mob, and had good fortune that he came off with his Life, Euripides was then entred on his eighteenth year^a, and not daring to run the hazard of his Wise Master's Profession, he determin'd to turn his Philosophy to the use of the Stage: with this par­ticular resolution, to keep as far as he could, from disgusting so ticklish an Audience, by contradicting or exposing the Superstitious Genius, and the Com­mon Fancies of the Age.

Yet his Prudence and Caution were not able to secure him from all trouble on this Score. For they tell us, that upon that bold stroke in his Hippolytus,

He was indicted as a wicked Encourager of Perjury; tho' it does not appear, that he suffer'd for it. The An­swer he made to the Accuser is left on record by Ari­stotle ^b; ‘"That 'twas a very unreasonable thing to bring a Cause into a Court of Judicature, which belong'd only to the Cognisance of a Theatre, and the Liberty of a Publick Festival. That when those words were spoken on the Stage, there went along with them some reason to justifie them: if not, on the Stage he was ready to defend them; when ever the Bill should be once prefer'd in the right Place."’

Indeed there was another time, when he incens'd the Audience to as high a Degree; but then he im­mediately[Page 110]brought himself off by his Art. It was in the Tragedy of Bellerophon; where that old Gentle­man laying himself out very eloquently in Praise of Money against Honesty, in a Rant, something like Mr. Waller's Miser's Speech; the People were so en­rag'd, as to rise with general consent, to demolish the Play and the Actor. But Euripides stepping out in time, only desir'd their patience 'till they should see what end this Patron of Covetousness came to. For it seems in the sequel of the Piece, he had punish'd the sordid Wretch as he deserv'd; and so justified the heightning of his Character, by raising the ill Con­sequences of it in proportion^a.

He had one happiness which Men of Wit are ge­nerally strangers to; and that is the being as eminent for Labour as for invention. 'Twas a noble return that he gave Alcest is, a Brother of his Profession, on this occasion. Euripides, it seems, had been com­plaining that he could not get out above three Verses in three Days; whereas Alcest is vapour'd, that he had always Three hundred at command in the same time. Ay, but, says, Euripides, ‘You don't consider the differ­ence: Your Verses are made to live no longer than those three Days, and mine to continue for ever ^b.’

'Tis a remarkable Instance in what manner the Prizes were carried, at the Common Trials of Wit in Athens; when we find Euripides, tho' he wrote Se­venty-five Tragedies, yet winning only Five, or at most but Fifteen Victories; and frequently losing the Crown to some pittiful Contender^c. But this had been Aeschylus's Case before him; and, perhaps, Ho­mer's before either. Yet Euripides is generally sup­pos'd to have had a tolerable Fortune in the World; and so not to have been oblig'd to depend mercena­rily on the People's Humour.

[Page 111]If we might believe Diogenes Laertius ^a, he should seem to have been as intimate with Plato, as he was with Plato's Master Socrates. For in the Life of Plato by that Author, Euripides is said to have accompa­nied him in his Egyptian Voyage; which he made to learn the Course of the Planets. But, tho' the Younger Scaliger has declar'd in favour of this report, yet it cannot possibly agree with the difference of Age, between the Poet and the Philosopher; as Mr. Barnes has most judiciously observ'd.

The only Great Action of those Times, with which Euripides's Story is concern'd, was the famous Over­throw of the Athenian Forces in Sicily. This sad Disaster, describ'd so largely by Thucydides in his 6th and 7th Books, and by Plutarch in his Life of Nicias, happen'd in the Fourth Year of the 91st Olympiad, and the 72d of Euripides his Life. After the last dreadful Battle, wherein the Athenian Army was entirely routed, and such prodigious numbers taken Prisoners; ‘"It was extremely remarkable, that many were sav'd and releas'd, merely for the sake of Euripides. For, it seems of all the In-land Grecians his Muse was in highest esteem with the Men of Sicily. Many of the poor Creatures that were thus preserv'd, after they had got home, are said to have gon and made their acknowledgments to the Poet: reporting, that some of them had been deliver'd from their Slavery, upon teaching what they could of his Verses; and how others, when straggling about after the Defeat, had been reliev'd with Meat and Drink, for sing­ing some of his Compositions."’

Nor were those who fell honourably in this Un­fortunate Expedition, less oblig'd to Euripides, than the Survivors. For he paid the last Duties to their Memory, in a most passionate [...], or Funeral.[Page 112]Elegy, a fragment of which is thus set down in Plu­tarch ^a.

Sophocles and he, as the Two Great Masters of the same Trade, are commonly thought to have main­tain'd no great Intimacy; at least not till the latter part of their Lives. Yet his Second Epistle is ad­dress'd to Sophocles, who was then in the Island Chios; congratulating his safety after a Ship-wreck; and condoling the loss of his Tragedies by that Accident, as a Common Misfortune to Greece; yet such as might easily be repair'd, in as much as the Worthy Author of them surviv'd. If this Epistle be genu­ine, there was without doubt a fair understanding at last between these Great Persons: a point, which will be confirm'd farther when we come to take notice of Sophocles's Behaviour upon the News of Eu­ripides's Death.

His Humour and Carriage are represented as Grave and Serious, and not much inclin'd to the ordinary gaiety of Poets. Aulus Gellius ^b has pre­serv'd a notable Epigram of Alexander the Aetolian, on which this account of his Temper is commonly built.

As to Love-matters, the common Business of his Profession, his Character runs double: for we find him distinguish'd by the Title of [...] in Suidas and Gellius; and by the quite contrary appellation of [...] in Athenaeus. But the appearing Contra­diction may be easily salv'd. His continual Care to fill his Plays with Satyrs against Women, might well make him esteem'd a Hater of the Sex, as far as his Pen was concern'd. And 'twas for this reason, that Aristophanes in one of his Comedies set a Jury of Women to try him, for his Offences in that kind. Yet this does not in the least hinder, but that he might admire the Good part of the Fair World, as much as he persecuted the Bad. Sophocles knew ve­ry well how to make this Distinction upon his Ri­val. Some body in his Company, was calling Euri­pides a Woman-hater; Yes, says Sophocles, ‘He is so indeed upon the Stage; but not in the Bed ^a.’ Accor­dingly it's agreed by common consent, that he had two Wives; and some say▪ both at the same time.

It was about a Year after the Sicilian Defeat, when Euripides, being overcome with the Intreaties of King Archelaus, left Athens, for the Macedonian Court. That Excellent Prince is particularly fa­mous[Page 114]for his Respect to Learned Men, and for his robbing the Grecian Academies, of their eminent Professors. So that there's no need of believing the Common Story, that our Poet trudg'd to Macedon for no other reason, but because he was asham'd to show his Face at home, after lie had catch'd one of the Actors a-bed with his Wife, and was plagued on that score by his Enemies the Come­dians.

The Veneration that Archelaus profess'd for his Sence and Wisdom was so high, that Solinus ^a tells us, he was honour'd with the Chief Place in the King's Council.

There are a great many smart sayings recorded which he pass'd on several occasions, while he wait­ed on that Prince. Particularly, one day a Young sluttering Courtier joking upon him for his stinking Breath; ‘My mouth has reason to stink, says he, because so many honest Secrets have rotted in it ^b.’ The famous Answer he made Archelaus is of a Nobler Strain. The King it seems, was continually teizing him to celebrate his Actions and Glory in a Tragick Piece; when once pressing it more home, and seeming ex­tremely importunate, Euripides burst out into this se­rious Reply, ‘Pray Heavens Your Majesties Reign may never afford the Subject of a Tragedy ^c.’

In the mean time, his Enemies at Athens did not fail to make the worst construction of his Journy to Macedon; as if he design'd for the honourable Pro­session of a Pimp or a Parasice. This was the Sub­ject of that Epistle to Cephisophon, which is the last of those Pieces, as we now have them. In it, he excu­ses himself from having any thoughts of increasing his Honours or his Riches, by changing his Coun­try[Page 115]and Way of Life; and advises his Friend to joyn with him in despising those pittiful Stories, which could never hurt any body, but the Authors of them.

He had pass'd but a few Years in this Court, when an unhappy Accident concluded his Life. Ovid tells us what it was, when he wishes his Ibis the same Fate.

Indeed, his Death is generally charg'd upon the King's Dogs: but whether this happen'd thro' Envy of some of the Courtiers, or by meer chance, is very far from a determination. Every Account gives him the same unfortunate End; and yet differs from the rest, in the particular manner of the Action. On­ly some, indeed, will not have him to have been torn in pieces by Dogs, but by a Mob of Women; as Old Orpheus had suffer'd before him. Suidas pla­ces the time of his Death in the 93d Olym­piad; and the Arundelian Marble in the Second Year of that Olympiad; which falls in with An. Mund. 3598, before our Saviour 435 Years. By this account he should have been now Seventy eight Years Old: whereas the common Relations of his Story, fixing his Birth later, will have him die in his Seventy fifth Year.

The News of his sad End, arriving at Athens, spread an universal sorrow thro' the City. Even Sophocles was so far from rejoycing at the removal of his Rival, that he is reported to have brought his Actors on the Stage in Mourning Garments, and [Page 116]without their Crowns: and to have appear'd him­self in the same melancholy Garb^a. Nor did he long survive, deceasing according to the best Ac­counts, in the very same Year.

Euripides's Corps was remov'd from Promiscus where he died, to the City Pella, and there Interr'd with the highest State and Solemnity. King Ar­chelaus himself, not contented with the Chief Con­cern and Expences of his Funeral, did him the far­ther Honour of Mourning for him, in the usual fashion of the Country, and shav'd his Head, for a visible token of continu'd Grief^b. The Monu­ment erected to his Memory, is suppos'd to have been of Marble, adorn'd with the Poet's Statue in the Tragick Garb, and hung about with the common appurtenances of that Art, and the Ensigns of Bac­chus, the Founder and Patron of the Profession. The Macedonians, as Aulus Gellius ^c tells us, were so proud of it, that they turn'd their common boast into a Proverb

And therefore when the Athenians sent Commissioners to desire his Bones, for the transporting them into the place of his Nativity: the People absolutely denied the Request, declaring they would part on no account, with such honourable Relicks.

The City which preserv'd his Ashes, being seated near Pieria, the Birth-place of the Muses, whence they took their Name of Pierides, gave occasion to this Epitaph, which we find inscrib'd to his Memory in the Anthologia;

Plutarch ^a relates, that this Monument at Pella was struck with Lightning; and that such an Acci­dent never happen'd but to these Relicks of Euripi­des, and those of Lycurgus: which he says, may serve for a Consolation to the Poet's Admirers, and for a sufficient Argument of his dearness to the Gods; that he should have the same ruine befal his Remains, as had formerly dispers'd those of Lycurgus, a Man of renown'd Piety, and a peculiar Favourite of Hea­ven.

The burning of his Monument in this remarkable manner, furnish'd the Grecian Epigrammatist with a happy Subject for this little Piece,

The People of Athens when they found it impos­sible to recover his Bones, were contented to raise him an Honorary Tomb in their own Country; which was remaining in Pausanias's Time^a. And 'tis to this Monument, we are to refer that pretty Distich of an Epitaph, extant in the common Collection of Greek Epigrams.

Which thought seems to have been imitated in the latter part of Mr. Drayton's well known Epitaph in Westminster-Abby.

The Story how the Originals of his Works toge­ther with those of Sophocles, came into King Pto­lemy's Hands, when he was founding his Famous Li­brary at Alexandria, told by Lylius Gyraldus and Mr. Barnes, on the Authority of Galen, is to this purpose. ‘"The King sent to Athens, to desire those Books for the increasing his Collection; but the City refus'd to comply: within a little time after, there hap­pen'd a great Dearth in Attica; and then Ptolemy denying them the importation of any Corn[Page 119]from Egypt, unless they answer'd his old Demand; they were forc'd to part with the Treasure, to keep themselves from starving."’ Whatever autho­rity those Great Men had for their relation, it's cer­tain the account in Galen, is very different. ‘King Ptolemy, says he, sent to the Athenians to borrow the Original Manuscripts of Sophocles, Aeschylus and Euripides in order to transcribe them for his Library, laying down in their hands Fifteen Talents of Silver, by way of Security. Upon receipt of the Books, he took care to have them wrote out on the fairest Parchment, and set off with richest Ornaments; and then, keeping the Originals, he sent the Copies to Athens, with this Mes­sage; that the King desir'd the City to accept of those Books, and of the Fifteen Talents, which he had left in their Hands. That they had no reason to be angry, since if he had neither sent them the Originals nor the Copies, he had done them no injury; as long as they them­selves by taking the security, suppos'd it a sufficient repara­tion, in case of a Loss ^a.’

AMONG all the hard Censures that have been pass'd upon EURIPIDES; whether on account of his Conduct, his Manners or his Stile; there is not one which dares touch on the Nobler Excellen­cies of his Wisdom, and his Passion. 'Tis for this rea­son, that he has been always esteem'd the most use­ful Man of his Art, for Human Life, tho' others may have the advantage of him in Delight.

The same Oracle that pronounc'd Socrates the Wisest of Mortals, gave Euripides the second place in the Character of Wisdom, and honour'd Sophocles, only with the lowest Degree.

[Page 120]It seems a little strange, that while this Testimony is so often brought to establish the honour of the Phi­losopher, we should scarce ever find it alledg'd to credit the Poets. But perhaps Men were afraid of in­juring the Divine Moralist, by joining him in Character with a couple of Play-wrights. And the Great Origen ^a is of opinion, that the Devil when he deliver'd that Sentence, by giving Socrates those Partners, purposely obscur'd his Glory, while he was forc'd in some measure to applaud it.

However, as long as the End of Poesy is to Instruct, and since the Gravity of the Ancient Tragedies made them appear something more than bare Lessons of Virtue; it will not detract from the Glory of the Great Socrates, to call those Persons Wise, who ad­vanc'd the same Truths as himself. At least, he will be contented to allow Euripides a share in that Ti­tle, since he was pleas'd to honour his Plays with his Company, when he denied that favour to the other Masters of the Stage^b.

Plutarch, then, had good reason to assign WISDOM, as the peculiar Character and Glory of Euripides's Works. For tho' the other Tragedians propose the same end, the regulating of Mens Noti­ons about Providence and Human Affairs, the re­presenting Vice in all it's deformities and Mischiefs, and the painting Virtue, with the highest Beauties, and with the best rewards: yet he will always appear to have answer'd that Design with so much the more advantage; as he added the strength of Philosophy, to the powers of Action and of Verse. For thus by a course of frequent Sentences, he instils all his Good Principles and Counsels, by the immediate convey­ance of the Ear. Whereas in the other Tragick[Page 121]Pieces, the People were instructed more by what they saw, than by what they heard. The whole Action and Scope of the Play might perhaps recom­mend some Noble Virtue to their Practice: because they beheld either that Virtue thriving happily in some Great Person, or the contrary Vice procuring as remarkable Misfortunes. But this was rather teach­ing by Picture and dumb show, than by Words and Precepts. While the Written part was all spent in bringing about and adjusting the Intrigue, without intermixing many new Advices, for fear of retarding the Grand Design. But now Euripides, besides their Advantage of shadowing one great Duty by the main Action, has inserted a long train of inferior Rules; and has given these in direct words to the Audience, without putting them to the trouble of making inferences from what they see. And tho' the first of these ways, may be thought the most ar­tificial Instruction; the other will be admitted as the most useful; or at least as the most suitable to Com­mon Apprehensions.

'Tis on the account of this Wisdom, and this forcible way of teaching, that Quintilian, when he is giving his Young Orator a List of Authors, with their proper Characters and Uses: while he does but just mention Sophocles's Name, passes on presently to a long recommendation of Euripides, as far the most beneficial to a Man, who design'd to rule the Forum. His Language, which some reprehend, as inferiour to the Grandeur of the Buskin, the Rhetorician for the same reason, esteems and applauds, as approaching nearer to the stile of Oratory. Then, as to the hap­py abundance of his Sentences, and his delivering the Grave Precepts of the Ancient Sages, he thinks him almost equal to the Wise Masters themselves: and in his Speeches and Answers, comparable to the most commanding Pleader at the Bar. And ends [Page 122]his Character with the most taking part of it, the excellency of his Passions, and his unresistable force of raising Pitty.

None can deny, but that the Virtues and Excel­lencies which Quintilian here recommends to his Orator's Imitation, will have their use and value in proportion, with all Persons who are engag'd in the Business of the World. They will be better Citizens by reading Euripides, and better Versifiers by doating on Sophocles: and will acknowledge just as much dif­ference between the advantages they receive from those two Authors, as they find between their Civil, and their Poetick Capacity.

Not but that Sophocles has his Instructions too, and those the most curious and the most refin'd. But, alass! his very excellencies render him of less service to the World. All the Old Magick of Poesy has been long since concluded: and the Muses may as well expect again to draw Stones and Trees into Or­der, as Men into Virtue, by their Arts and Power. People are no more, to be led into Societies: like Bees, by the force of Musick. The World, in its Infancy, might learn Goodness, by sweet Violences, and pleasant Deceits. But now, it pretends to be more Manly; and scorns to be trick'd, tho' to its own Advantage. We as much despise a Poet, who hopes to enforce Virtue by the Harmony and Arti­fice of Verse; as a Physician who endeavours to cure by Charm. Things must be laid down in a plain way, and the course and method of Nature exactly follow'd. If Virtue and Vice will come upon the Stage, they must lay aside their Scenical Habits, and appear Naked and Unmasqu'd. Otherwise we are apt to take the Liberty of thinking that they only indeed Act a Part, and are just such Machines and Fancies in the World, as they are in the Theatre.

[Page 123]Thus while Euripides, does not so much endea­vour to prevail on our sences, as to make an imme­diate Conquest on our Minds; and rather convinces us by Eloquence, than amazes us by Pomp and Show: We admire and esteem him more, the more he has fail'd in the formal Rules of his Art: and are ready to acknowledge him the chief of Tragick Professors, because he kindly descends to our Level, and wears his Buskins lower than the rest.

ARISTOPHANES.

THE Age of Aristophanes need not come under Enquiry; since none can be at a loss where to fix the famous Peleponnesian War, and the more fa­mous Story of the Divine Socrates. But then his Country or Birth-place is little understood. The Old Illustrators, quarrel, and defie one another on the Point: and the Oracle of his own Works, which[Page 125]acquaints us with most of his Circumstances and Concerns, is but in vain consulted about this Dis­pute. There is indeed one passage in the Acharnian, which seems to hint, that he sometime liv'd in Aegi­na, and might therefore probably be Born there. The Chorus between the Second and third Acts, are commending the Poet, as the Deliverer of their Country by his Wisdom, and as a Man that was ad­mir'd by all the World; and then they go on,

We may only guess hence, that his Fortunes lay in that Island. And this was pretence enough for his Enemies to accuse him to the Magistracy as a Forreigner, and as a false Usurper of the Privileges which Athens allow'd her Citizens. They say he came off with great Applause from this Charge, by only naming one Philip an Athenian Freeman for his Father, and proving it with two Verses of Ho­mer,

[Page 126]Thus wherever he was born, he had the Honour to be admitted free Denizen of Athens, whether Nature had given him a Title to it; or whether his Ingenu­ity supplied him with as fair a Right.

His Native Courage and Honour and his Profess'd aversion to a servile Government, deserv'd to pro­cure him the highest Employments in the State. But perhaps he did the Common-wealth as much ser­vice on the Comick Stage, as he could have done in the Council or in the Army. 'Twas he, that dar'd entertain the whole City at the Expence of the Ma­gistrates Reputations; could inform them of the pernicious Designs of their Leading Officers: And could himself Act a Cleon, a Powerful Villain; when every one of the Common Players declin'd so dange­rous a Part^a. 'Twas he, that by the same bold Method of Instruction, could remind a whole Peo­ple of the defects in their Publick Justice; and of the Miscariages in their Politicks, and in their Arms. And what was the hardiest Enterprize of all, could attack their Superstitious Worship, without incurring those general Resentments, which had fallen on Aes­chylus and Euripides. for the same Good Attempt. It looks indeed somwhat like a Prodigy, to see the Co­median blacken the incomparable Socrates, by re­presenting him as a despiser of the Popular Religion: while he himself in some other of his Pieces, has ex­pos'd the same vulgar Erros, and came off with Ap­probation. The reason of the strange difference can be only this, that Aristophanes by the Force and Authority of his Wit, held Athens more absolutely at Command, than the Good Philosopher, with all his Wisdom and with all his Vertue.

All his Plays which are come safe to our Hands, appear to be a Set of Wise Reflections, on the Af­fairs[Page 127]and the Conduct of the Athenian People, thro' as Famous a Course of Years as any in History, the time of the Great Peleponnesian War. And therefore Plato shew'd a great deal of Judgment, as well as a great deal of private Esteem; when he recommend­ed Aristophanes's Works to Denys the Tyrant; who had desir'd to be inform'd of the Condition and the Polity of Athens ^a.

The Chorus in the Acharnian, whom there has been occasion to cite before, take care to let us know what Name and Character their Poet bore at home, and abroad. They had been reminding the Audience of some Good Offices Aristophanes had done the City by the Power of his Comick Muse; and then they carry on the bold Vaunt in such strains as these.

But after all the fair parts of his Character, there lies an eternal reflection on his good Humour at least, if not on his Virtue and Principles, that he should profess himself a mortal Enemy to the two wisest Athenians of his Time Socrates and Euripides.

We have a full History of his Wicked Attempt a­gainst the Philosopher, deliver'd by Aelian ^a; whe­ther truly or not may be enquir'd by and by, his Relation is to this purpose. Anytus and the other Accusers who had form'd a Design against Socrates's Credit and Life, were not so senceless as to imagine, that the Judges would be very willing to receive an Impeachment of the Wisest and the Best of Men. And therefore they concluded it would be the best way of proceeding to prepare the Minds of the Athenians, by raising the Scandal by Degrees. In order to this, they hir'd Aristophanes, with the consideration of a good round Summ, to expose the Philosopher on the Stage. They instructed him too which way to di­rect the Satyr. To represent Socrates as an imperti­nent Virtuoso, and a trifling Disputant; one that could argue Pro and Con at his Pleasure, and prove Right Wrong, and Wrong Right in the same Breath: And especially to hint at his introducing new kinds of Daemons, and Powers unheard of before, as if he slighted the Common Deities, and the present man­ner of their Worship.

[Page 129] Aristophanes, who had no more honesty than his Poverty would allow, easily swallow'd the Bribe; and falling to work according to their directions, compos'd the Comedy of the Clouds. The Athenians, who expected nothing less than to see such a Great Man ridiculously personated in the Theatre, at first were in a general wonder and surprize. But being naturally envious, and apt to detract from those Per­sons, whose Learning or Vertue had rais'd them a­bove the common Level; they were afterwards tick­led with the pleasant Satyr; and gave the Prize to Aristophanes with universal Applause.

On the Faith of Aetian, we commonly build our Notions of this Transaction: And agree to condemn all Athens of as much Folly and Madness for approving the Poet's Slanders, as we do the Poet himself for venting them. Even the most ingenious Madam Dacier, who has lately given us the two first of Ari­stophanes's Comedies in so fine a Dress; is not so kind as to vindicate the Credit of the Philosopher, or the Judgement of the Audience: While observing only^a that there was no need of corrupting the Poet with a Bribe, She seems to admit the rest of Aelians's Story as a true Relation. But how will the Scene be alter'd, if, after all, the Divine Philosopher should ap­pear to have been vindicated by the Common Voice of the Judges: while the profane Poet was so far discountenanced, as to see the Comick Prize given to a much Inferior Performer? Yet as fair a Conjecture as this may be drawn from the Play it self, as we now have it. For that Parabasis inserted in the Chorus between the first and second Acts^b, is nothing else but a direct Address, made by the Poet to the Peo­ple, commending himself, as the most experienc'd Man in his Art, and this for the best of all his Pie­ces: And at the same time complaining of their un­kindness;[Page 130]kindness; that, with all these advantages, they should before despise and damn his Play, and deny him the publick Testimony and Reward. Now the Old Scholiasts agree to expound this of the ill success which the Clouds met with at their first Presenting; when Cratinus and Amipsias were Crown'd for the best Comedians; and Aristophanes exploded with uni­versal Scorn. 'Twas very Natural for the Poet, af­ter the first Misfortune, to correct his Beloved Peice against a second Trial; and to add this Speech, by way of expostulation with the Audience; and to beg a more favourable Sentence: And therefore it may well serve for a Prologue, according to the present Laws of the Theatre, as Madam Dacier has plac'd it in her Translation.

So far then the whole Body of the Athenians are justified, that they did not encourage the Poet's first Attempt, in exposing their Great Master and In­structor. But if it could be made out farther, that this Piece was never reviv'd on the Stage, tho' corrected by the Author; they would come off with Honour from the whole Accusation. Yet this Point too will admit of a probable Proof in their Defence. For one of the old Scholiasts when he is expounding the Parabasis already mention'd, says expressly ‘ [...] ^a.’ ‘There are no Memorials which explain the Acting of two CLOUDS: or, there are no Memorials which make the Clouds to have been Acted twice.’ As for the other Old Gentleman, who in his Illustrations prefix'd to the Piece, affirms it to have been presented a second time: He fixes that time in the very next Year when Aminias was Archon. But now in that very Year when Aminias was Archon, Aristophanes's other Comedy of the Wasps was Play'd, as all agree. And in this Piece of the Wasps when the Chorus desire the Audience^b, not to receive the Poets[Page 131]Labour so unkindly as they had done before; the Scholiast only observes, that ‘The Year before, he pre­sented his first Clouds, and came off with disgrace.’ Yet here he had a fair opportunity of telling us, that it was Acted a second time more fortunately; and that in this very Year, if the thing had been really true. This is the Argument urg'd by the most Learned Palmerius ^a. Yet supposing that Question to be in­capable of a decision, whether or no the Clouds was twice Presented: Since we have demonstration that it was once certainly exploded, when it came on the Stage; this is enough to alleviate in a great mea­sure the heavy Censure, which has lain so many Ages on the Athenian Auditory; and to show that Aelian was more a Lover of Socrates than of Truth; when to advance the Character of the Philosopher's Patience and Magnanimity, he traduc'd the Vertue and the Sence of the whole City. There is one part of his Narration yet behind, which may be prov'd grossly false; and will therefore put a better Colour on our Suspicion of the rest. He would perswade us that the Accusers of Socrates, got him thus ridicul'd in a Play, as a Preparation to his Publick Arraign­ment; and to try how the People would bear such an Attempt. But now, since it appears from several Passages in the Play^b that it was written, while Cleon was alive; and Cleon dying, as Euripides ^c has recorded, in the Tenth Year of the Peleponnesian War, that is, in the Third Year of the 89th Olympiad: It is very strange if this should pass for the Introducti­on to the Tryal and Condemnation of the Philoso­pher; which happen'd in the 95th Olympiad, above Twenty Years after Cleon's Death, and therefore more after the Acting of the Clouds. So that there's [Page 132]no occasion to suppose any other reason for Aristo­phanes's Undertaking, but the necessary disagreement between the licentiousness of the Old Comedy, and the strictness of the Old Philosophy. And then his hatred to Euripides, the Philosophical Poet, may be in a great measure attributed to the same Cause. It is well known, that Socrates would never by his good will enter the Theatre, but to hear some perfor­mance of that Tragedian; whom he esteem'd as much a Preacher of Morality as himself. It is there­fore a most lamentable mistake of the Author of the Latin Argument^a prefix'd to Aristophanes's Frogs; when he tells us, that the Comedian wrote that Play to be reveng'd on Euripides, for his Tragedy of Palamedes, under whose borrow'd Name, he had up­braided the Athenians with the Murder of the Great Philosopher: Whereas the Death of Euripides and the Acting of the Frogs, are always placed in the 93d Olympiad, and the Condemnation of Socrates, never before the Ninety first.

We are not inform'd how long Aristophanes liv'd; it is probable he reach'd a great Age, since we may reckon near Forty Years that pass'd between his Acharnian and his Plutus, the first and the last of his Comedies which we now have.

The Honorary Distich compos'd on him, as is thought, by Plato, will make large amends for the loss of his Epitaph.

[Page 133]That Plato was indeed his Great Friend and Admi­rer, Olympiodorus assures us in his Life of the Philoso­pher. And this Epigram, if Genuine, together with the Recommendation of his Works to Dionysius, were sufficient marks of this Esteem. But it happen'd a lit­tle unluckily, that the incomparable French Lady, in the Preface to her Translation should remarque farther; that ‘To testifie more particularly the Respect he entertain'd for the Poet, be gave him the best Place in his SYMPOSIUM; and put under his Name the fine Dis­course which he makes of Love: giving us to understand by this, that ARISTOPHANES was the only Man, who could talk agreeably of that Passion.’ For whoever compares the Speech that Aristophanes makes in that Dialogue, to explain his foul Notion of Love, with those of the other Speakers on the same Subject; will be far from thinking that he has the best Place in the Banquet; and from allowing that to be a fine and an agreeable Description of a Natural Passion, which is an open Panegyrick on the most Unnatural of Vices. This Observation cannot seem to detract from the just Praise of Madam Dacier: A Man can scarce think on Her, and the admir'd Partner of Her Studies and of Her Bed; without addressing Her with Claudian's old Compliment, a little al­ter'd,

It's a receiv'd distinction of the Grecian Comedy, into the Old, the Middle and the New. The first was a Barefac'd exposing of the Greatest Persons on the Stage; without the least disguise of the Subject or of the Name. This is the Liberty which Horace commends at the beginning of his Fourth Satyr. But he tells us the ill Consequences of it in his Art of Poetry.

The Middle Comedy succeeded when this was prohibited by the State; and presented real faults and miscarriages, under the Disguise of Borrow'd Names.

The New or the Third sort, was an entire Refor­mation of the Stage to Civility and Decency; ob­liging the Poet, to suppose the Actions as well as the Names; and without making any particular re­flections, to give only a Probable Description of Hu­man Life.

The Question is not decided whether, when Ho­race speaks of the taking away the licentiousness of the Chorus by Order of the Magistrates, he means that it was taken from the Old Comedy, or from the Middle. The Old Interpreters, and the Tribe of Modern Criticks with Scaliger ^a at their Head, de­clare for the first Opinion. But Monsieur Dacier ^b, who has so often shown us Lucan's sight

advances the other exposition of the Words: as if Horace were not taking notice of the first Reformati­on of Comedy from the Old to the Middle; but of the later Regulation of the Middle into the New. [Page 135]But if each side were so generous, as to retreat a few steps, the difference might possibly admit some Accomodation. For while the first absolutely deny, and the other as positively affirms, the Middle Comedy to have had a Chorus, it might be maintain'd between both, that the Middle Species had indeed some kind of Chorus, but so moderated and so restrain'd, that Horace might properly say it was shamefully silenced, while it only lay under this Confinement. And thus both sides will be acknowledg'd portly in the right: Dacier while he asserts a Chorus in the Middle Come­dy; and the other Criticks when they tell us that the taking away the injurious Liberty of the Chorus, con­stituted (in a great measure) the Second Species of Comedy; and not the Third. Every one knows that the main opportunity which the Chorus had to abuse particular Persons, and to talk saucily of the Government, was in the Intermedes, or the long Speeches between the Acts. Now these being enti­rely Banish'd in the Middle Comedy; the Chorus might still retain the Part of a Common Actor, without Offence. As we see practis'd in Aristophanes's Plutus.

'Twere happy, if he, as he has left us the only Collection of Grecian Comedies, had oblig'd us too with an Example of each Species. But whatever his Ancient or his Modern Illustrators may pretend, it will be impossible to find any more than the Old and the Middle Strain, in his Pieces which survive. And therefore those Learned Men must neod be overseen who will have the two Attick Laws forbidding, [...], & [...], to expose a Chief Magistate openly in a Comedy, or, to Name any Person in those Pieces; to have been made in Ari­stophanes's Time^a: Or else he must have understood [Page 136]those Laws, as if they prohibited rather the Persona­ting of a real Citizen, than the scouting him; rather the abusing him by Action, than by Words. For in the Plutus, but now mention'd, which is own'd for the last and the most Reform'd of his Pieces, he has severely reflected on several Persons, and those of the highest Rank; and has nam'd them too in the Censure.

If a Man was to attempt a Character of Aristo­phanes's Comedies in our Times, he would certainly begin with telling us, that we must not expect there, the Nicety of Rules, and the regular Conduct, which has added so many Graces to the Modern Stage. For in all his Pieces except the Plutus and the Clouds, the new Criticks might look in vain for their Unities and their Ordonnance; which perhaps was one reason why Madam Dacier thought none of the rest fit to be put in her Country Garb: because in them only he seems as much a French Man in Contrivance, as her Translation makes him in Language. Tho' with­out doubt her main Argument for stopping at these Two, was, because all the rest smell so strongly of the Rude and Debauch'd Original of the Art, as very often to offend the Chastity of Common Ears; and much more the Modesty of a Lady.

The [...] and the [...], the Decorum of the Stage, and the Natural Characters of Men and Man­ners were Improvements that Comedy was then a Stranger to. The main Beauty and Design, being the [...] the Ridicule; arising not from the real imitation of any Person or Action; but from the re­presenting them rather quite different from their pro­per Character to make the Spectators laugh at some­thing very odd and very surprizing. Thus, as Mr. Dryden observes, ‘"When we see Socrates brought up­on the Stage, we are not to imagin him made ri­diculous by the imitation of his Actions; but ra­ther[Page 137]by making him perform something very unlike himself; something so childish and absurd, as by comparing it with the Gravity of the true Socrates, makes a ridiculous Object for the Spectators^a."’

But then this Ridicule was mixt with so much sharpness, and sometimes virulency, that it gave the Audience not only a tickling Pleasure, but incens'd them with a real hatred toward the Person expos'd. And 'tis for this reason that Scaliger ^b says Horace's way in Satyr, is the same as that of Aristophanes in Comedy.

Plutarch, whose Sence and Judgment are as much respected and admir'd as any thing in Antiquity, has left a most heavy Charge against Aristophanes's Writings; in his Comparison of him and Menander. Were the intire Piece extant, we might have some hopes of mollifying the Sentence, by some more fa­vourable part of the Discourse. But in the Epitome of it, which we now have among his Moral Works, the Censure stands very severe. The chief Crimes he objects against our Poet, are, that he makes use of base, scurrilous and nauseous Language; and now and then affects a Tragical instead of a Comi­cal Stile. That he observes not the difference of the Persons that speak, nor applies thoughts and words accordingly; but without any Nature or De­corum, brings in Gods, Heroes, Kings, Citizens, Old Men and Women, Fathers and Sons, all so ex­actly like one another, in their Phrase and Talk, that they have nothing in the World to distinguish them but their Habit. That his Jokes wound and exul­cerate instead of Curing. That he never attempts any Character, but he is sure to spoil it: While, if he's to represent a Cunning Fellow, he does not[Page 138]make him Politick, but down-right Wicked: If a Countryman, instead of describing Ignorance and Caution, he gives us the Picture of a meer Fool: If he raises Laughter in the Audience, it proceeds from the dulness of the Jest, and is directed not a­gainst the Subject but against the Poet: And, if he's to describe the soft Passion of Love, from Mirth and Gaiety, he turns it to loosness, and immodest Freedom.

Now the greatest part of this Accusation, may be easily wip'd off from the Poet and thrown upon the Times. The Old Comedy, we know, had then the Command of the Stage: And all the nauseous kinds of obscene Ribaldry were as essential to that, as Nature and Decency were to the New. The severity of Jests was their main Beauty: And tho' this might (as he says) ulcerate and wound the Person expos'd, yet to be sure, it did not sail to tickle the Envious Audience. He seems a little un­just when he charges the Poet's Jokes with Dulness, whereas there are many the most merry and divert­ing in the World. But supposing they did not take in so polite an Age as Plutarch's: this is no reason why they might not make an Old Grecian Audience burst with Laughter, while the Genius of the Times admitted nothing else for Wit. We see Horace scouts the Jests of Plautus which were the Wonder of his Fore-fathers: And the Case is the same with our Chaucer: That being now applicable enough to either of the three, which an Ingenious Gentleman observes of the last;

What Plutarch objects farther of the Poet's not observing the Rule of applying the proper Language and Manners to each Sex and every Age and Con­dition,[Page 139]is grounded on as bad a bottom. For this was a Perfection of the New Comedy; but neg­lected with universal allowance in the Old. Not that such a Liberty justified absolute Contradictions in the same Character; but only the straining of that Character something beyond Nature and Reali­ty; to surprize and amuse the Spectators. Thus we find such Thoughts and Words, and Designs given to a Parcel of Mannish Strumpets, as would almost exceed the true Boldness of the other Sex. Thus we see an ill-manner'd Citizen, painted with the Blunt­ness and Stupidity of a Rustick: And the Grave Socrates represented with as great a mixture of Folly and Madness, as our Sir Nicholas Gimcrack.

That part of the Charge too must be confess'd, where Aristophanes is said to affect in many places, a Tragick Style. But then 'twill be as easily defended, as granted. For even according to Horace's strict Rules, which were calculated for the last Reforma­tion of the Stage; tho'

If Horace's Distinction is not taken for a full ex­cuse, because it seems only to allow here and there some Passionate and Great Strokes in a Comedy, and not a General Loftiness of the whole Pieces. Yet this too is very pardonable, when the Design re­quires a ridiculous height of affected Eloquence and Stile. Thus, in the Parliament of Women, while the Grave Matrons strut in their Husband's Cloathes, and seize the Administration of the State into their Hands; 'tis fit they should Talk, as well as Act and Look like Senators.

There is indeed one Part, throughout almost the whole Course of Aristophanes's Plays, which is written in a loftier Strain than ordinary: but which too will[Page 140]be excus'd as soon as nam'd. Whoever understand's the Nature and Use of the Chorus, cannot be offen­ded that it's Generous and Manly Part, is shown in Grave and Elevated Verse: And that the Poet does not exhort to Vertue, in the same merry Stile which encounters Vice. To tell the Athenians in a direct Address, the Folly of some of their Counsels, and the Benefit of others: to inspire them with Heat and Vigour for a War: or to perswade them seriously to court a Peace: to return solemn Thanks to Heaven for Blessings on the City; and to implore the future Protection of the Tutelar Deities; were all Sub­jects too Noble for the Common Speech of a Co­median. And as long as the Chorus had sometimes the same Employment in both Species of the Drama, it could not be absurd if it used too the same Lan­guage in both.

Upon the whole, Plutarch's main Quarrel with Aristophanes, is his not being like Menander. And this is as unjust a reason to condemn him; as if he should have fallen foul on his own Theseus for not using the same Arms as Romulus, or censur'd Romu­lus for not fighting with the Conduct and the Dis­cipline of Julius Caesar. For the Old Comedy as well as the Old Method of War, was agreeable to its pro­per Age. And if the later Improvements in both, should be acknowledg'd to be founded on better and more universal Reason: Yet we have not so much pretence to be angry with those ancient Masters for neglecting them, as with Nature for not putting them into their Heads.

But Aristophanes's Credit does not need so poor a Plea, as the Rudeness of the Times to support it. For tho' we should grant his Characters to be false, his Jokes Malicious or Obscene; and his Designs irre­gular: Yet the Excellencies of his pure Stile will always keep up his Name at a just height in the[Page 141]World. He has been long acknowledg'd on all hands for the happy Engrosser of all the Charms, and all the Delicacies of the Language he adorn'd; and for the Great Treasurer of the Attick Graces. And certainly we may be better contented to scramble among some Dirt and Rubbish for all the Grecian Beauties in Aristophanes; than to dig thro' much deeper heaps of Ordure for a few Latin Elegancies in Petronius.

THEOCRITƲS.

AMong all the Complaints that have been made against the Old Tribe of Grammarians and Commentators, there is not one with less injustice taken up, than that which taxes them with their hard usage of Theocritus's Story. For, as if it were impossible for them to agree in their Verdict, tho' upon the plainest Evidence; we find them strangely[Page 143]divided in their accounts of the Age and Country of this Poet; when, all the while, he himself, if they would have taken his Word, has settled both the Points beyond Dispute.

In an Epigram commonly set in the front of his Poem, and perhaps according to the Author's Ori­ginal Design, he thus acquaints us with his City and Family.

And then, as to his Age, one would think 'twere impossible that should raise a Quarrel, while the two Idylliums remain, address'd to Hiero King of Syracuse, and to Ptolemy Philadelphus of Egypt. This Hiero was the same famous Prince whose Actions are re­corded in the first Book of Polybius's History. He re­cover'd the Regal Honour to his Family, after it had been lost almost Two Hundred Years: beginning his Reign in the Second Year of the 126th Olym­piad, as Casaubon has made out in his Observations on that Historian^a. Tho' Pausanias ^b makes him to have obtain'd the Crown in the Second Year of the 120th Olympiad; and tho' Casaubon, when he wrote his Lections on Theocritus ^c, has follow'd Pau­sanias in the Mistake. As for Ptolemy Philadelphus, the Commencement of his Reign is constantly fix'd in the 123d Olympiad.

[Page 144] Hiero, tho' a Prince who made a great noise in the World by the Fortune of his Arms, and by the Fame of his Good Government; yet seems to have express'd no great Affection for Letters. Which is suppos'd to have been the occasion of Theocritus's Sixteenth Idyllium, inscrib'd with Hiero's Name: where the Poet asserts the dignity of his own Pro­fession, complains of the poor encouragement it met with in the World; and after a very Artisici­al manner, touching on some of the Noblest Vir­tues of the Prince, shows what a Brave Figure he would have made in Verse, had he been as good a Patron, as he was an Argument, to the Muses.

It's probable, this Unkindness of Hiero was the main reason which prevail'd with Theocritus to leave Sicily for the Egyptian Court; where King Ptolemy then sat, Supreme President of Arts and Wit. And we may guess that the Poet met with kinder Entertainment at Alexandria, than he had enjoy'd at Syracuse, from his famous Panegyrick on Ptolemy, which makes his Seventeenth Idyllium; and in which, after the Praises of his Race, his Power, and his Riches, he extols his Generous Protecti­on of Learning and Ingenuity, as something be­yond the degree of common Virtues and Excellen­cies.

There are no farther Memorials of the Poet's Life to be gather'd from his Works, except his Friendship with Aratus the famous Author of the Phaenomena. To Him he addresses his Sixth Idyllium; His Loves he describes in the Seventh; and from Him he borrows the pious Beginning of the Seven­teenth.

Theocrius lies under an unhappy censure in re­lation to his Death. For if Ovid mean's Him by the Syracusian Poet in his Ibis, he must seem to have suffer'd, either from his own, or from other Hands,[Page 145]the shameful Fate of a Malefactor^*. But it will not be very insolent to say, that in such a trivial Business Ovid himself might be mistaken. For tho' the Old Commentators on the place, tell us a grave Story of Theocritus's Execution, as there hinted at, and the occasion of it; yet 'tis possible the whole matter may lye in confounding Theocritus the Rheto­rician of Chios, with Theocritus the Poet of Syracuse; tho' the Latter in his Epigram already set down, has taken particular care to be known and distin­guish'd from his Name-sake. Now it's true enough, as Plutarch ^a, and Macrobius ^b will witness, that Theocritus of Chios was Executed, by order of King Antigonus: and the reason of his Misfortune was his most unseasonable Wit. For having committed a very high Crime against that Prince, (who, by the way, had but one Eye) and He promising him a Pardon, provided he would come into his Presence to accept it; his Friends were very urgent in hasten­ing his Journey to Court, and told him he need not question having his Life sav'd, as soon as ever he should appear to his Majestie's Eyes: ‘Nay then, (cried Theocritus) I am a Dead Man, if that be the only Condition of my Pardon.’ And this coming to Antigonus's Ear, He justly esteem'd the Railery an addition to the former Treason, and accordingly order'd Justice to proceed.

It cannot fairly be omitted, that the attributing the Fate of Theocritus the Rhetorician to Theocritus the Poet, was an easier slip, in as much as the for­mer also pretended to some knack in Verse, and has an Epigram or two preserv'd in Laertius and Plu­tarch.

[Page 146]Tho' Theocritus passes in common Esteem, for no more than a Pastoral Poet; yet he is manifestly robb'd of great part of his Fame, if his other Peices have not their proper Laurels. For (not to speak of the few little Epigrams) as the larger share of his Idylliums, cannot properly be call'd the Songs of Shepherds, so they are in too great repute, to be ba­nished from the Character of their Author.

At the same time he ought, no doubt to lay his Pastorals, as the Foundation of his Credit. And upon the Claim he will be admitted for the happy Finisher, as well as for the Inventor of his Art; and will be acknowledg'd to have excell'd all his following Rivals, as much as Originals usually do their Copies. He has the same advantage in the Rural, as Homer had in the Epick Poesy; and that was, to make the Criticks turn His Practice into Eternal Rules, and to measure Nature Herself by his accomplish'd Model. And therefore, as to enu­merate the Glories of Heroick Numbers is the same thing, as to cast up the Summ of Homer's Praises; so to set down all the Beauties of Pastoral Verse, is no more than an indirect way of making so many short Panegyricks on Theocritus. Indeed, Theocritus has been so much happier than Homer, as Virgil's Eclogues are reckon'd more unequal Imitations than his Aeneis.

It must be own'd that the Dialect which Theocri­tus wrote in, has a great share in his Honours. The old Dorian Phrase seems to have been introdu­c'd on purpose for these Compositions: Or one would think this was the plain Language of the Golden Age; and that the Poet had express'd the Speech of these Good Mortals, as well as the Man­ners. On the other hand, many excellent Judges have maintain'd, that his Muse now and then, ra­ther[Page 147]show's her ill-breeding than her simplicity: that her Country Air and Tone are both a little uncouth; at least that they appear so to the elegancy and the niceness of Modern Times. Now to this Censure it might, with submission, be return'd; that unless the Shepherds are allow'd some ruder liberties in their Words and Carriage, they will seem to be a­bridg'd of the Privileges of their Nature and their Condition. For tho' they ought not to be either grossly stupid, or critically refin'd; yet it would be a safer error to let them smell rank of the Field, than to deck them with the least spruceness of the City. We see the ill effects of the contrary practise, in the famous Pastorals of the Italians and of the French; who have turn'd their Swains into Courtiers, for fear of making them Clowns.

It seems indeed, reasonable enough, that the Pu­rity of Modern Tongues should not admit the use of a grosser Dialect, even in Pastoral Pieces: Tho', as for our selves, the Scotch-Songs which pass with so much applause, show that it is not impossible to re­vive this old Conduct among Us with Success. How­ever, Theocritus is not to be judg'd by the Manners of our Times, but by his own. We must not con­ceive the Performers in His Pastorals like those in Spencer's

But in the rude Fields of Ancient Sicily: and here they may be as rustick as they please, without of­fence; tho' there perhaps they ought to have been more cautious and more decent.

It's certain Quintilian, however he has been of late misconstrued, never intended his Judgment on Theocritus for a Reproach, when he observes, that[Page 148] ‘His Rustical Muse was not only afraid to appear in the Forum but even in the City ^a.’ For the Rhetorician could mean no more, but that the Language and the thoughts of Theocritus's Shepherds ought neither to be imitated in Publick speaking, nor in any Gallant Composure. Yet the Poet might for all this, be ad­mirable in his way, as indeed, Quintilian in the same place expressly pronounces him.

But should the Dialect of Theocritus not be admit­ted among his Graces, he can produce enough be­sides to secure his Rural Crown from the boldest Competitor. Mr. Dryden acknowledges him to have been rais'd above Virgil himself, by the inimitable tenderness of his Passions; by the propriety of his Wit, never departing from the Plains and Cottages; and by an Art that he has of betraying his Learn­ing; (as his Nymphs do their Love) meerly by en­deavouring to conceal it. These Excellencies Mr. Dryden ^b would fix to distinguish the Sicilian Poet, from all others in the World: And to pretend to confirm His Judgment, would be the same rashness as to oppose it.

To say nothing of Virgil, who disdain's a meaner Censor, as well as a meaner Translator than Mr. Dryden; it will be no breach of modesty to affirm, that the greatest part of the succeeding Pastorals, are as far distant from these Ornaments, as from the Age that produc'd them for their Patterns. The Persons introduc'd have not only the Speech, but the Address and the Carriage of Gentlemen: Their Love is the highest Gallantry, and their Wit the choicest Invention. Our own Incomparable Sir Phi­lip Sidney has sallen into the common humour, tho'[Page 149]not in the common fault. Some of his Shepherds talk in as fine a Strain of Sence and Elegancy, as if each was a true Philisides: ‘Showing Wits (as Palladius observ'd) that might better become such Shepherds as Ho­mer speaks of, who are Governors of the People, than such Senators who hold their Council in a Sheep-cote ^a.’ But then with what a matchless Judgment has that No­ble Author fram'd a necessity for his Practice? The Old Epique Poets, when their Heroes accom­plish any Adventure that seems plac'd beyond the reach of Human Force, salve the Probability, by joyning the miraculous assistance of the Gods: And, Sir Philip, when his Rural Lovers act and talk above the Nature and Character of the Common Inhabi­tants of the Plains, refers the whole Business to the eztraordinary Influence of Heaven. He is careful to let us know that the particular favour of Provi­dence had not more distinguish'd His Arcadia from other Countries by the Benefits of the Climate and of the Soil, than by the Parts and the Wisdom of the People, and that these were as Common Blessings as the others: ‘The Muses having chose this Country for their chief repairing Place; and having bestow'd their Gifts so largely here, that the very SHEPHERDS had their Fancies lifted to so high Conceits, as the Learned of other Nations were content both to borrow their Names, and to imitate their Cunning ^b.’

Those Idylliums of Theocritus, which are not admitted for Pastorals, are of so different kinds, that no Man has yet attempted to reduce them into Classes. Sal­masius ^c contents himself to say, that we may call them what we please besides Pastoral Verses. And, Heinsius ^d tho' he tells us he could distinguish them, [Page 150]yet wisely declares he will leave the Task, for other Men to try their Judgments upon. But perhaps it would save a needless Trouble to call them altoge­ther by the Modern Name of Poems on several Occa­sions. And this notion Heinsius himself must in some measure favour; while he observes that the Anci­ents gave them the Title of Idylliums for no other rea­son, but to express the variety of their Natures. But tho' they cannot be divided into Heads fit to express their form, yet they may fall under such as will distinguish their Praises. For the Nine first, and the Eleventh being all that are acknowledg'd true Pastorals, there are abundance of others, which are therefore only not Pastorals, because the Scene of Business does not lie in the Plains and Feed­ing Grounds, but in some other part of the Coun­try; not among the Shepherds, but among their Neighbours as rude and simple as themselves: Such as the Reapers in the Tenth Idyllium, the Gossips in the Fifteenth, the Fishermen in the Twenty-first, &c. Now these Pieces have a right to most of the fine things that are usually said of the Pastorals, to which they are so nearly alli'd. Several others of the Idylliums are little Copies directed to private Friends, on some particular account; as the Twelfth, the Twenty-eighth, the Twenty-ninth, &c. These neither agree all in Dialect, nor in Measures, yet for their general Air of familiar Simplicity and Morali­ty, meet with a common Esteem. The Nineteenth and the Thirtieth, on Cupid stung by a Bee, and on The Death of Adonis, seem both to be written with the Spirit and the delicacy of Anacreon; the latter only having the farther Benefit of His Numbers: tho' the first too has now recover'd that Advantage in the English which it wanted in the Greek.

[Page 151]But the most admir'd among these Miscellaneous Pieces, are the Panegyricks and the Hymns, ad­dress'd to Ptolemy, Hiero, Castor, and Pollux, and Her­cules; by which Theocritus has shown, that he (as well as Virgil did afterwards) could upon occasion; raise his Sicilian Muse to a loftier Strain; that he un­derstood the Gaitey and Wisdom of the Court, and the Bravery of the Camp, as well as the simple ho­nesty and hardiness of the Country: and, in short, that he could as well sing the Combats of Heroes, as the Contentions of Shepherds.

LYCROPHON.

LYCOPHRON was a Native of the City Chalcis in Euboea. His Father Socleus was a Grammarian by Profession; after whose Death, he had the luck to be Adopted by Lycus the Historiographer^a. We may be satisfied of his Proficiency under both their cares, by just looking on his Poem that survives; and we shall be ready to acknowledge, that, what­ever other Fortune they might leave him, he was cer­tainly the full Inheritor of their proper Arts. One would almost think, that the only design of the Work, was to unite their Collections, as he had done their Families: and that the Verbal Stories of Socleus, join'd to Lycus's Historical Treasures, had furnish'd Cassandra with all the Oracles she delivers.

It is necessary to fall thus suddenly from the Au­thor to his remaining Labour, because he has scarce any other Memorials to entertain us with. We are told indeed, that he liv'd under Ptolemy Philadelphus, and made a Star in the Poetical Pleias, which shone in that Reign^b, Ovid ^c informs us farther that he died by the stroke of an Arrow. We hear too, that he was a very Voluminous Author, tho' only one of his Peices has arriv'd at our Age; that besides his Critical Essays in Prose, He exercis'd himself with fair Success in almost all the Fields of Poesy, from the loftiness of Tragedy to the humble Spirit of Ana­gram, [Page 153]which lays claim to the honour of his In­vention. But these Notices are of little concern to one that is impatient to be acquainted with his Raving Lady, and who will gladly let Cassandra's Story make amends for the deficiency of Lycro­phon's.

The common account of this unhappy Prophetess informs us, that she was Daughter to King Priam of Troy, and that being courted in no very Honoura­ble way, either by Apollo, or as some will have it, by his Priests, upon promise of the Gift of Divina­tion, if she complied; she first got possession of the Reward, and then honestly denied the service. But her baffled Suitor in revenge for the Injury, found a way to turn his Grant into a Curse. For, procuring it to be order'd by the Voice of the Oracle, that no Man should ever credit what Cassandra said; her In­spiration prov'd a desperate torment to her, instead of a Heavenly favour.

This then is the foundation of Lycophrons's Piece. Cassandra, or as she was otherwise call'd, Alexandra, is suppos'd to be shut up in a close Tower, as well to keep her from frighting the People; as to try whe­ther the Solitary Confinement might not bring her to her right Senses. During this restraint, her super­stitious Old Father commands the Keeper to come and bring him a punctual Account of all that the Princess had said under her Fit. This Recital made by the Keeper, is the Form of the Poem. He begins with a promise of Faithfulness, and, having hinted to the King, how different a manner of Speech she had now us'd from her common strain, appearing a meer Sphinx, and affecting the darkest and the most per­plex'd thought and expression; he then proceeds to repeat her whole intricate Speech to the King. In which, beginning at the Voyage of Paris, who was then Sail'd for Sparta on his amorous Expedition;[Page 154]She throws out in a most terrible Rant, a predicti­of all the Miseries that should be occasion'd by this Adventure: The Calamities of the ten Years Seige of Troy, and the no less strange Disasters, that should happen, as well to the returning Victors, as to the dispers'd Relicks of the Conquer'd People. At last she enquires into the Original Cause of the Quarrel between Europe and Asia; and, having describ'd the stealing away of Europa, the Voyage of the Argo­nautes, and the other famous Old Contentions; she looks forward to the Design of Xerxes against Greece; and having reach'd the Times succeeding Alexander the Great, she there breaks off, upon a sudden re­membrance that no Body will, at present, believe Her. And then the Keeper with a short Epilogue to the King, concludes the Poem: which is a kind of Tragick Monody, or Narrative of a single Person.

Those who are not so equal Judges as to distinguish between the Design and the Execution, will be sure to condemn a Poet, whose chief Ends are Instructi­on and Delight, for using such a Conduct, as by ren­dring him wilfully unintelligible, must needs make him appear very unpleasant. But whoever can par­don Lycophron for the rashness of his Undertaking, cannot fail to applaud him for the greateness of his Success. If it be reckon'd so glorious in a Modern Tragedian to hit the short Character of a raving Person, and to suit the Language to the extravagancy of the Condition: what an Atchievment was it, to fill a whole Piece with the single Representation of a Possessed Lady, and yet never to transgress against nature and decency? In drawing the Image of com­mon Madness, 'tis enough to be handsomly absurd. But when the Frenzy is suppos'd to be Divine, and the Fit to proceed from a Miraculous Transport; then the [...]e must be a dark consistency of Speech as well an appearing distraction: There must be the obscure [Page 155]certainty, as well as the open fury of an Oracle. And what could better answer such a Project, than to join in one wild Discourse, almost all the Terms, and almost all the Adventures of the most copious Language, and of the most copious History in the World?

If we add to this, the liveliness of the Transport­ing Passion, and the artificial strangeness of the Di­gressions; it will not be Honour enough, to fix this Piece as the best Epitome of the Grecian Tongue, and of the Grecian Fables: but Lycophron will maintain his Seat in the Constellation of Poets; how ever some late Critiques have attempted to pull him from his Sphere. And tho' we should suppose, that he formerly made but a dark Figure in that Station; yet the Cloudy Spots are now happily remov'd, the Riddles and Mysteries are explain'd, and Cassandra is at last come into Credit and Esteem.

CALLIMACHƲS.

CALLIMACHUS was born in Cyrene ^a, the fa­mous City of Ancient Libya. His common Title of Battiades makes the Grammarians usually assign one Battus for his Father: But, perhaps he may as well derive that Name from King Battus the Founder of Cyrene, from whose Line, as Strabo ^b assures us, he declar'd himself to be Descended. We are not inform'd of the particular Year of his Birth; tho' sew of the Poets have been forgotten by Eusebius. However it's agreed, that he commen­c'd his Fame under the Patronage of Ptolemy Phila­delphus, and continued it in the Reign of his Suc­cessor Ptolemy Euergetes; whose Queen Berenice having Consecrated her Locks in the Temple of Venus, and a cunning Mathematician, having sto­len them thence to Translate them to Heaven, gave occasion to the Fine Elegy of this Poet, which we have now only in the Latin of Catul­lus.

Whoever was his Father, the Poet has paid all his Duties and Obligations to Him in a most de­licate Epitaph, which we find in the Anthologia, and which shows that Martial had good reason to assign him the Crown among the Grecian Writers of the Epigram. The Old Gentleman is suppos'd thus to address the Visitants at his Tomb,

Before Callimachus was recommended to the fa­vour of the Court, he taught School in Alexandria, and had the honour of breeding Apollonius the Au­thor of the Argonauticks: who making him but an unkind requital for his Labour, provok'd Callimachus to vent his Passion in an Invective Poem, level'd against his ungrateful Scholar, under the reproach­ful name of IBIS ^a; which furnish'd Ovid with a Pattern and a Title for his Biting Piece of the same Nature.

How capable soever our Poet might be of the highest attainments in Verse; he seems to have had a particular fancy for short Copies. And when his envious Rivals us'd to alledge this as their main objection against his Muse, that she could not attempt any thing of bulk; he gave them the ingenious Answer at the end of the Hymn to Apollo, which seems to be compos'd and introduc'd with all that Art, which Ovid make's the Great Excellency of Callimachus.

The Scholiast on this place observes, that to stop the Mouths of these detractors, the Poet compos'd his Hecate, a Work of a larger size; now lost, but frequently cited by Grecian and Roman Au­thors.

Those few Persons who have a right taste and a just esteem for these smaller Compositions, will think that Callimachius needed nothing else to ensure his Reputation. And if it be true, what Suidas reports, that he wrote above Eight hundred Pieces, he will stand free enough from the imputation of laziness, tho' he have no unweildy Labour to produce in his own Defence.

What we now have under his Name, are a few Hymns and Epigrams: the first of which as they make far the largest part of his Remains, so they[Page 159]are of the greatest Credit, and seem the main Foun­dation of his fair Character amongst his Modern Friends.

It looks a little strange that Ovid ^a when he gives him a place in his fine Catalogue of Poets, should pronounce him immortal, barely upon account of his Art, and at the same time expressly deny his Title to Wit.

Indeed, we have still many prodigious Instances of his Art, as (besides the Apology already set down) the manner of bringing King Ptolemy's Praises into the Hymn to Jupiter, the making Apollo while yet in his Mothers Belly, Prophecy the same Prince's Victories; and the like. Yet it will be a difficult matter to perswade any one, who has consider'd the surprizing Delicacy of his thought and turn, to com­pound for half his Applause, and to quit the credit of his Invention, for that of his Judgment. Both the Talents seem so happily temper'd together, that 'tis hard to give an instance of one Vertue, without displaying the other in the same view. What can be a nobler proof of both, than the Gracefulness of those Transitions; where, while he is commending one Deity, he d [...]aws in another with so gentle force, as not to wrong the first Subject by obliging a new one? Of this kind is that admir'd stroke on Hercules in the Hymn to Diana:

[Page 161]What can be a fairer Argument for the union of the same Talents, than those wise and delicious Sen­tences; which striking us suddenly in a work where one would not expect them, look as much like In­spiration as any thing that Poesy can produce? Two of these in the very first Hymn, may vie with the entire Labours of more bulky Authors. The first of them, is a fine Answer to the Modern Libertines, who from the fancied uncertainty of a future State, take occasion to live and die at a venture, and ex­pect as good a Chance as their Neighbours. The Poet is speaking of Jupiter's Title to the Empire of Heaven, as a thing acknowledg'd and unenvied by his Two Brothers; and hence he reflects on the Fol­ly of the Ancient Story-tellers, who would make the Three Sons of Saturn divide the Three Realms by Lot:

The other is the concluding Strain of the Hymn; where he makes his Farewel-prayer to the Deity:

Some Learned Men have endeavour'd to make Ovid's Judgment, speak a more favourable sence. But whoever casts his Eyes on what Heinsius ^a has perform'd in that Cause, and considers how he is gravel'd in the impossible Attempt; will be apt to imagine, that Ovid intended his Words should be understood according to their natural import, but that thro' a Spirit of Envy and Emulation, he has wilfully contracted his Rival's Praises. It's plain he had no higher ambition than to be thought superior to Callimachus; and he declares he should admire a Mistress who would honour him with that prefe­rence^b.

But the greatest testimonies of Callimachus's worth, and the foundation of his Character with the Anci­ents, were his numerous Pieces in the Elegiac Strain, Of these, we have only the Hymn on Minerva's Bath, and Catullus's Translation of the Copy, on Queen Berenice's Hair. The former seems, like his other Hymns, to incline most to the free Spirit of Lyriques; the curious Story of Tiresias making the greater part of the Poem. The other is more agree­able to our Common Notions of Elegy; and, as it is commonly printed with the Works of Tibullus and Propertius in the same Strain; so it may vie with the sweetest and the most exact of their Pieces. For [Page 163]instance, they have nothing of a more natural turn, than that thought which makes it a greater Honour to belong to the Queen's Head, than to have a place among the Constellations: the Star is suppos'd to speak, and thus Compliments its Mistress,

This Specimen, (which to be sure has lost nothing in the Latin Version) is of itself almost enough to justifie Quintilian, when he gives Callimachus the Crown in Elegy^a; and to show that Propertius was not much out in his choice, when he pitch'd on Him for his Pattern^b.

There is indeed another passage in Propertius which seems to contradict his former Judgment, and which is commonly alledg'd by those who pretend to cen­sure Callimachus. It is in the Thirty third Elegy of the second Book,

'Tis true by joyning non with inslati in the constructi­on, the difficulty is easily solv'd, and the suppos'd de­traction turns into a Commendation. But 'tis much more rational to imagin that Propertius here censures some particular Work of Callimachus (at present not extant) as bombast and extravagant; advising his Friend to apply himself to some easier and more a­greeable Labour. Scaliger judges the particular Piece to have been the [...] which Martial scout's as a hard obscure business; and which Propertius's Friend might then probably think of translating. This Conjecture may be farther improv'd from hence, that in one of the old Epigrams in the An­thologia, Callimachus is suppos'd to have been honour'd with the Commands of the Muses in a Dream, for the undertaking that difficult Work. But whatever becomes of this point, it's impossible Propertius should design any general Reflection; since he declares it for his highest Wish, to be called the Roman Callima­chus ^a.

APOLLONIƲS.

APOLLONIUS was an Alexandrian, the Son of Hilleus or Silleus; as we learn from Suidas, and from the old Scholiasts; and these are the chief Au­thorities that can be expected for the Stories of those Poets, whom we reckon so far inferior to the rest in Age and in Wit.

He studied under the Care of Callimachus, but prov'd a very ungrateful Scholar to that Great Man. Which reproach, together with the Revenge it brought upon him, has been hinted in his Master's Life. By this, we cannot doubt, but that he was Born under Ptolemy Philadelphus, and made his Fi­gure in the World, in the Reign of the Succeeding Prince, Ptolemy Euergetes.

He compos'd his first Essay of the Argonauticks, in the rash heat of his Youth; and, reading the Piece in publick, came off with very poor success. The shame of this Disappointment, mortified him to such a degree, that he left his Country, and retir'd to Rhodes. Here, resolving to fix a considerable time, and setting up for a Professor of Rhetorick, he soon found his Name chang'd from Apollonius of Alexandria, to Apollonius of Rhodian; which has pre­vail'd ever since, to the injury of his Native City.

As the chief design of his willful Banishment was to retrieve his Credit, by polishing his Work; so he plied the Project so hard at Rhodes, that having compleated the Corrections and Improvements, and trying his Fortune once more in a Publick Recitati­on, he gave a general satisfaction to the People, and had the Honour to be made free Denizen of their[Page 166]City. And then returning to Alexandria, and pub­lishing his Poem, he was receiv'd with universal Ap­probation, and merited the Reward of succeeding Eratosthenes in the care of the famous Library.

We hear no more of him, but, (what is very ex­traordinary) that they buried him in the same Tomb with his [...]aster Callimachus. Either to make a feign'd Reconcilement after Death between Persons that could not brook any while they were living: Or to put a fair covering on the Quarrel, and to hide it from the knowledge of Posterity.

Tho' the Subject of Apollonius's Poem, be one of the Noblest and most celebrated Actions of Anti­quity, the Expedition in search of the GOLDEN FLEECE, yet he has scarce the happiness to be rank'd with the Old Masters of Epick Verse. One great reason of his disappointment, must needs be the advantage Ovid has had of him, in touching on the same Adventure: All Persons being more inclin'd to hear an imperfect Relation from a Gentleman, than to bear the tedious exactness of a profess'd Scholar.

But tho' in Contentions of the present Times the partiality of the Judges be a fair Plea for a vanquish'd Rival, yet it will not hold in Cases that have been trying for many Ages together. A Thousand Years once past over, leave no more room for injustice, than they do for Envy: And whoever is worsted in so long a Combat, must atribute the miscarriage, not to the Credit of his Antagonist, but to his own De­fault. So that to assign the reason, why the Poem of the Argonauticks is so little in Mens Mouths, and so much less in their hands, we should not run to the Favour of Ovid, but to the Failings of Apollonius.

If then Horace's Rule be true, of

[Page 167] Apollonius has no hard measure in being denied an honourable Place among the Poets, since the ablest Pleaders in his Defence, could never make him rise above the middle way. Quintilian tells us, he wrote aequali quâdam mediocritate. And tho' Longin gives him the fair Title of [...], yet it's plain he can mean no more, but that the Poet has fall'n into no gross absurdities, but kept an even course of Writing. For whatever some may make of that Epithet, it looks very Suspicious that Longin design'd it for no great Commendation; since he only brings in this Author, as an Example to confirm the Maxim, he had just laid down, that a middle Stile without any faults, is not so eligible as a loftiness attended with many de­fects.

It's probable, that what the two Grand Rhetori­cians thus deliver as their opinion concerning Apollo­nius, was intended to reach no farther than his Thought and Style. But had it lain in ther way to speak of his Conduct and Contrivance, they would not, perhaps, have been more favourable Judges. For they could never have discover'd in him, the ad­mir'd Arts of Institution and Mechanism, which they would put into the Desinition of Epick Poesy. And, as from the plain and unartificial course of the Action, they must have esteem'd him a very Histori­cal Poet; so, they could not but have reckon'd him a very Poetical Historian too, from the liberty he has taken in measuring the time of the Adventure.

Thus until a Second Rate be admitted in Poetry, Apollonius is not like to get a place in the List. Par­nassus will be something like Sisyphus's Mountain to him: if his Muse cannot lift him to the very Top, she had as good never have carried him up half-way; while the Criticks, not less severe than the Infernal Judges, cruelly thrust him down again, and force him out of her Arms.

[Page 168]Yet Apolloneus's Friends can never be driven to Despair, while their Poet is acknowledg'd to have set Patterns for Virgil himself. As long as Dido own's her near Kindred to Medea, and Dares, and Entellus their resemblance to Amycus and Pollux, the Aeneis will keep up the Name of the Argonautick [...] in the World; as accomplish'd Statues and Paintings give a Value to their ruder Models; or, as the Story of Creat Heroes sustains the Memory of those whom they conquer'd.

For th [...] Scaliger's rigorous sentence should prevail, and the Latin Poet be declar'd to have infinitely out­done the Grecian in every thing that he borrow'd from him, yet,

And Aeneae magni dextrâ cadis, ought to be as great a consolation to a vanquish'd Poet, as to a dying Warrior.

ARATƲS.

ARATUS was born at Soli ^a, a famous City of Cilicia founded by the Wise Solon ^b, and af­wards call'd Pompeipolis in honour of Pompey the Great^c. His Father's Name was Athenodorus and his Mother's Lenodora, or Letophila, as it is vari­ously written. He was Scholar to Dionysius of He­raclea, the Stoick: on the Principles of which Sect, His Verses (as well as those of Manilius) are esta­blish'd.

He wrote under the Patronage of Antigonus Sir­nam'd Gonaras King of Macedon; who began his Reign in the Hundred and Twenty-fifth Olympiad, as it is settled in Eusebius, and not in the Hundred and fifth, as we find it corruptly in the Life of the Poet commonly set before his Works. This Excel­lent Prince, besides his General Encouragement of Learned Men; is said to have admitted Aratus into a particular familiarity and esteem.

The Old Scholiasts when they compile Aratus's Life complain grieviously of a Story that was got a­broad, how King Antigonus, meerly for the Jests sake, commanded Him to write of Heavenly Bodies, and Nicander of the Art of Medecine; whereas Nicander was an expert Astronomer, and Aratus a celebrated Physician, but both of them entire Stran­gers[Page 170]to one another's Arts. This Notion they grave­ly co [...]e by observing that Aratus and Nicander, were as far from being Cotemporaries as Twelve, (they might have said Twenty) Olympiads could make them. The former living in the time of the first Ptolemy King of Egypt, and the other under the Fifth Prince of that Name. But they never mention the occasion of this Vulgar Error for fear of injuring, in some measure, the Author they were to adorn. Otherwise, they might have fix'd a Foundation for the Fancy in Tully's account of these Two Poets, given in his First Book de Oratore, where he tells us, ‘"'Twas a confess'd Point among the Learned, that Aratus, a Man utterly igno­rant of Astrology had written most elegant Ver­ses about the Heavens and the Stars; and that Nicander of Colophon was beholden for his Geor­gicks to his acquaintance with the Muses, not to his knowledge of the Country."’

If we omit here the Friendship Aratus maintain'd with Theocritus, (which has been already hinted under that Poets History) we find no more of him; only that he Corrected Homer's Odyssey when it had under­gone a desperate Course of Corruptions, and that he was sent for into Syria by King Antiochus, to perform the same Good Office to the Ilias ^a.

His Work, which in many Old Editions passes for no more than a single Poem with the common Name of ΦΑΙΝΟΜΕΝΑ, has been thought since to make two distinct Pieces, the first only being call'd ΦΑΙΝΟΜΕΝΑ, and the Second Entitul'd ΔΙΟΣΗΜΕΙΑ. The former is properly Astronomical, giving an account of the Situation and the Affection, of the [Page 171]Heavenly Bodies; the other Astrological, show­ing the particular Influences, arising from their va­rious dispositions, and relations. Yet whoever con­siders the Noble Beginning of the Phaenomena, and the plain entrance on the Diosem [...]ia without any Formality or Address; will still conclude them to be one Poem divided into Two Books.

The late Italian and French Criticks, extremely despise this Performance: because the Subject of it, according to their Notions, is not properly Poeti­cal. Yet Cicero could tell us that Arate [...] compos'd Ornatissimos atque optimos versus, most Polite, and most Excellent Verses: Yet Quintilian could declare, ‘"that tho' the Matter of his Work want's Motion, having no Variety, no Passions, no Person that ever makes a Speech; yet he has fully answer'd his Argument, which was all that he propos'd."’

Indeed, as the Honours done the Poet by the favours of King Antigonus, by the Labour of no less than Forty Greek Scholiasts, and above all by the Versions and Illustrations of Germanìcus Caesar, and of Tully; are sufficient Proofs what a Value An­tiquity set upon his Compositions: So he is not altogether to seek in what may recommend him as forcibly to Modern Tasts, and to a new Reputati­on. For tho' the Doctrine of the Stars Dominion in Heaven, be almost as much out of fashion, as the Stories how they came thither; and tho' few will be at the pains to read on a Subject which they esteem but cramp Nonsence; yet Aratus has in some mea­sure provided against that Misfortune, by introdu­cing his Work, with such a Strain of Sence, of Wit, and of Religion; as if it does not charm Men to look quite thro' the Poem, yet will engage them to al­low that first Essay the Praise of an entire Labour. It cannot be amiss to set it down in this place; be­cause[Page 172]few Readers go any farther, and all ought to go thus far.

'Tis true indeed, that according to the exact ni­cety of Rules, it is not esteem'd good Policy in a Poet, to open all his Strength and Riches at the first show. But perhaps that Maxim is to be under­stood only of Grand and Heroical Designs; not of those plainer Subjects, which being unable to sup­port themselves by any real Worth and Greatness, may be usher'd in with some inviting Address. Even in Poetical Buildings it is not absurd, to make the Front, the noblest Piece of the Work; when the Beauty of that, is to cover the disadvantage of the other Parts, which stand farther out of common sight and notice.

As long therefore as the happy dependance of all Natural things on the Counsels of Heaven, is con­fess'd to be the highest Subject of a Christian's thoughts as well as of a Poets; Aratus his Name is not likely to be lost, while Piety and Sense endure.[Page 174]Especially, since we find one of his Sentences ho­nour'd with a place in the Inspir'd Writings ^a, his Wit cannot now have a shorter Period than the Glorious Bodies it describes^b: And, if one may say so without indecency, the Situation of St. Paul will confirm the Prophecy of Ovid.

NICANDER.

NIcander was a Colophonian, as not only Suidas, but Tully and Macrobius call him. Therefore Ta­naquil Faber had no reason to pass such a hard cen­sure on Suidas for not making him a Native of Claros. It's true he calls himself a Clarian at the end of one of his Pieces now extant, and at the begin­ning of the other. But 'twas usual with the Men of Colophon to borrow an Epithet from their Neigh­boring City, which the Temple of Apollo Clarius made so renown'd in the World: as may hereafter be observ'd in the Story of Antimachus, concerning whom, the French Critick has publish'd the same mistake.

Nicander liv'd in the time of Attalus the last King of Pergamus; who left the Roman People Heirs to his Kingdom: that is, about the 160th Olympiad. He was famous for the triple Profession of Physick Grammar and Poesie: and has a vast number of Pieces in Prose and Verse, attributed to him in An­cient Authors, which are reckon'd up by Vossius in his Fourth Book de Historicis Graecis.

In all probability the Muses had the least share in his Fame. For tho' Cicero indeed commends his Georgicks, as a Work of a very happy Vein, yet in his common Character, his Learning runs much higher than his Wit. The two surviving Poems of the Theriaca and the Alexipharmaca, (both spent in the same general Subject of providing against the mischiefs of poysonous Creatures, tho' by different Medecines) are manifestly intended more for In­struction [Page 176]than Delight; more for the assistance of the Memory, than the entertainment of the Fancy or of the Ear. So that he would most infallibly lose his place among the Ancient Poets, if his pretensi­ons were not supported by a juster Credit, obtain'd on other accounts: every Tribe being desirous of admitting a Great Man into their Profession, with­out making much enquiry whether or no he under­stands the particular Business of their Art.

DIONYSIƲS the Periegetick.

DIONYSIUS seems much happier than the other Grecian Poets of those later Times, in having his History recorded by an Author of Cred [...]t. Pliny in his Natural History, speaking of the Persian Alex­andria, (afterwards call'd Antioch and at last Char­rax) could not but take that occasion of paying his Respects to a Person who had so much oblig'd him, and whom he professes to follow above all Men in the Geographical Part of his Work. He tells us then, ‘"That Dionysius was a Native of this Alex­andria; and that he had the Honour to be sent by Augustus Caesar, to survey the Eastern part of the World, and to make Reports and Observati­ons about its State and Condition, for the use of the Emperor's Eldest Son, who was at that time preparing an Expedition into Armenia, Parthia and Arabia ^a."’

This is all the certain information we have con­cerning Dionysius's Person and Affairs: and this is in­finitely preferable to the longest Legends of the Scholiasts: And yet it has not been sufficient to hinder the vanity of the Critical Disputes about his Age. For we find Barthius placing him under the Antonini; Salmasius under the Emperor Severus; and Scaliger abusing Old Eustathius as a Dreamer, because he had fancied him a Writer of the Augustan [Page 178]Times. They all pretend some colour for their Opinions, from that Verse of the Author where he calls Rome

and will have that to be understood of those later Emperors, who had commonly Associates in the Supreme Power. But, besides that this might be as well spoken in either of those junctures when Augustus shar'd the Soveraignty with Antony, or with Tiberius; it does not much advance the Credit of these Learned Men, either not to have met with this passage of Pliny, or to have oppos'd so Great an Authority, after they had seen it.

Dionysius wrote a great number of Pieces, reckon'd up by Suidas and by Eustathius. His Survey of the World is the only one we now enjoy: and it would be superfluous to say that this one of the most exact Systems of Ancient Geography, when it has been already observ'd, that Pliny himself propos'd it for his Pattern.

'Tis a common Fancy, that Dionysius is no more to be reckon'd a Poet, than any of those other Au­thors, who compelling hard Precepts into the fet­ters of Numbers, have made an easier Conquest for the Memory. And we are apt always to assign him the same Company, in which we were first ac­quainted with him at School; the Grammarians and the Rhetoricians, who cramp'd us with their dry Lessons in Verse.

But this is a very injurious mistake: For tho' he must be acknowledg'd to be more valuable for the usefulness of his Subject, than for the agreeableness of his Wit, or the Harmony of his Measures; yet he has taken care to show us, by many instances,[Page 179] [...]hat He had a Genius capable of more sublime Un­ [...]ertakings, and that he constantly made the Muses [...]he Companions and the Guides of his Travels, [...]ho' he did not divert himself with their finer Con­ [...]erse on every occasion. Now not to insist on his Descriptions of the Island Leuca inhabited by de­ [...]arted Heroes^a; of the Terrible and Monstrous Whales in Taprobana ^b; of the poor Scythians that [...]welt by the Maeotick Lake^c; the account of him­ [...]elf, when he comes to describe the Caspian Sea^d; [...]f the Swans and of the Bacchanals on the Banks [...]f Cayster ^e, and many more of the same strain; [...] will be Argument enough of the Excellency of his Poetick Spirit, only set down the concluding stroke [...]f his Work:

OPPIAN.

OPPIAN was Born at Anazarbus a City of Cili-according to most of the Ancient accounts of his Life. For whereas Suidas and some others from him, fix Corycus for the Poet's Birth-place; their mistake is evident from a passage in the Third Book of his Halieuticks ^a where he seems to di­stinguish his own Country-men from their Neigh­bours the Corycians; tho' not so clearly, but that at first Glance it might give some colour to that con­jecture.

The time of his Birth, is as unsettl'd, as we ge­nerally sind such matters. But it's certain that Sui­das and Eusebius are vastly out, when they place it under Marcus Antoninus. For supposing him to have died at thirty Years old, as is constantly reported; how could he, according to this account, have pre­sented his Cynegeticks to Antoninus Caracalla; tho' the very beginning shows them to have been thus ad­dress'd? For all know that there pass'd above Thirty Years between those Emperors. And yet the most Learned Editor of his Works Ritterhusius has made as great a slip on the other hand, by fixing his Birth in the Reign of Severus. For, that taking in only the Compass of Eighteen Years; it is very unlikely he should at such an Age finish and present his Hali­euticks, as (we are certain he did) in the Life time of that Emperor. The middle way then, must be to[Page 183]suppose he might be born in the former part of Com­modus's Reign; which cannot be charg'd with the like absurdities as the other Opinions.

His Father Agesilaus is recorded to have been eminent for his Learning and Wisdom, and no less remarkable for his Riches and Authority in the City. So that Oppian had perhaps a greater advantage than any of his Predecessors, for the polishing himself with all the Arts and Accomplishments of Human Know­ledge.

He had scarce finish'd the entire course of his Stu­dies, when an unhappy accident diverted them for the present, to make them afterwards the more il­lustrious. The Emperor Severus, taking a Progress thro' Cilicia, honour'd Anazarbus, among other Ci­ties with a Visit. Now at the Procession that was made to receive him, the Magistrates waiting on him in their Formalities; Old Agesilaus, as a greater Philosopher than a Courtier, was the only Man missing at the Solemnity. This peice of disrespect the Emperor resented so highly, as to banish the old Gentleman into the Island Malta; whither his Son likewise went, the voluntary Companion of his Troubles.

But He, with a Fate not uncommon to the Men of his Profession, ow'd his Glory to his Misfortunes. For endeavouring, under this sad Confinement to amuze himself and his Father with the diversions of Poetry: He began, after some fortunate attempts in that way, to conceive hopes of allaying the Em­peror's Displeasure by the same means as had les­sen'd the Effects of it. To this purpose he engag'd in the Halieuticks, dedicated to that Emperor's Son, the design of which Work he thus gives us himself at the entrance on it.

From the Greek accounts of his Life, commonly prefix'd to his Works, 'tis impossible to determine, whether he took his Journey to Court presently af­ter the finishing of his Halieuticks; or whether his Verses of Hunting, and perhaps other pieces were not offer'd at the same time: tho' they Generally seem more inclin'd to favour the last Conjecture. Yet if we consider what Sozomen the Ecclesiastical Historian has observ'd, that Severus was alive when the first Present was made to his Son Antoninus, and did himself order the Reward: and withal, that in[Page 185]the Poem of Fishing, Oppian compliments both Fa­ther and Son as then reigning with joint Power; and that in the Poem of Hunting the same Address is not us'd: we might conclude with some appear­ance, that the former Work only was offer'd to Antoninus during his Father's Life; and the other when he was left in sole possession of the Empire.

But then, if we venture a second Reflection, and lay before us the constant tradition of the Author's dying soon after his Journey to Court, and never find any more Journies mention'd than one; we must be forc'd in some measure to recede from this decision; and to believe that the Cynegeticks were never presented with the Poets own hands.

However this matter is to be setled, the conse­quence of his Journey comes generally attested and agreed on. That the Emperour, being ravish'd with the Beauty and Art of his Compositions, in the first place order'd him a Piece of Gold for eve­ry Verse; and then promis'd him the Grant of any farther Favour he should demand. This last Happi­ness furnish'd him with an opportunity of recalling his Father from Banishment; and was piously em­ploy'd to that good Purpose. But he did not live long to enjoy the Blessing he had restor'd. For a fatal Pestilence at Anazarbus swept him away among the Multitude, soon after his return, and quiet settltment there: he having reach'd no more than the Thirtieth Year of his Age. He was In­terr'd with the highest Honours; and had a No­ble Statue erected to his Memory, with this Inscrip­tion.

We have at present only his Poems of the Cynege­ticks and the Halieuticks, of Hunting and Fishing; the Third which he is said to have compos'd on the Art of Fowling, being yet vainly expected from the Italian Libraries, where it was long since thought to be buried.

The driness of his Subjects, tho' it offends some Modern French Criticks, yet has not hindred him from being esteem'd by more knowing Judges, as an Author little Inferior in Fancy, Art and Lan­guage, to the most celebrated Masters in the Greci­an Strain. His vast numbers of allusions and com­parisons, as they would have shown his Wit in any Design; so they give an equal proof of his Judge­ment too, while they are appli'd to Themes that stood so much in need of those Ornaments. The begin­ning and the ending strokes of each Poem have some­thing of so great a Spirit and Turn, as show him to have had a Genius for much more Heroical At­cheivements in Verse. The first Lines of the Ha­lieuticks having been already set down, it will not be improper to add the two other Addresses to the Emperor, at the Entrance of the other Poem, and at the Conclusion of that.

[Page 188]The Compliment at the end of the Halieuticks, is more artificial and more just, being taken exact­ly from the Subject in hand, and not stretch'd out into such flights as may perhaps seem too Youth­ful in the former Specimen.

His admirable Lessons of Morality on all occasions, especially that most wise and elegant Reflection at the beginning of the Second Book of the Halieuticks, on the weakness of Mankind in the smallest matters, without the influence and the assistance of Heaven, show him to have been one of the most rational and best Principl'd Heathens; and that his Works are a­ble to teach us nobler secrets, than the Mysteries of Hunting and of Fishing. 'Twas this spirit of true Philosophy, that made him not so much as mention his own Misfortunes in Pieces which were compos'd to procure their redress; except just once to insist on[Page 189]the Miseries of Banishment, when the subject made it almost necessary.

To conclude, as he came into the World, when Poesy was going off the Stage, so he made the best use of his Predecessors Labours in both Languages; whereas the Elder Grecian Poets had only their own Countrymen for their Guides and their Examples. And, without doubt when Julius Scaliger so often gives him the first place in the Tribe of Greece, it's chiefly for this reason, because he has taken care to be largely indebted to Virgil; and by not misemploy­ing the Treasures, has shown that he deserv'd to bor­row them.

LINƲS.

HE has the Honour to be reckon'd the first Man in the Poetic Story; tho' ^a Pausani­as assures us, that he either never made any Verses, or at least that none of his Pieces came into the Hands of Posterity. On the other side, ^b Diodorus Siculus reports, that he wrote in the Pelasgian Tongue, the Acts of the first Bacchus, and other Fabulous Pieces. For this, and many the like reasons, we may fairly conclude, there were two of this Name, both famous for Music and for Verse, and so Suidas has determin'd. But their Sto­ries[Page 2]are so confounded, that 'tis impossible to distin­guish the Adventures of one from those of the other. Some Authors attributing to the Elder what others report of the Younger: and some again obliging the Younger with those Honours, which the Elder had enjoy'd in other Relations. Perhaps, 'tis on this ac­count that the Great Scaliger seems to acknowledge but one Linus; and accordingly reprehend; ^a Eusebius, for doubling him. Indeed the most famous of the two has drown'd the Credit of his Name-sake, as much as his Scholar Hercules did the Glory of the other Heroes of that Name. And therefore as all the Actions of those Worthies are attributed to the Grand Hercules; so whatever Linus's there may have been in the World, they make but one Character and one History.

Linus then was either of Chalcis, ^b or as most agree of ^c Thebes, Son to Apollo by ^d Terpsichore, or by ^e Psa­mathe; or else to Amphimarus by ^f Urania, or to Mercury by the same Lady^g. He passes for the first of the Grecians who invented Rhimes and Melody: and for this reason Virgil has done him the Honour to make him Chief Officer to the Muses on the Aonian Mount, and deputed by them to Introduce and Com­plement Gallus.

His three Famous Scholars were Hercules, Thamyris, and Orpheus. Of whom, the Ingenuity of the two last, made amends for the dulness of the first; who being corrected once by his Master, took an occasion to knock out his Brains, with the Harp which he was awkardly managing. Tho' others make Linus to have been kill'd at last by Apollo, for daring to contend with him in Music and in Verse^h.

[Page 3]The Old Grecians were so troubled at the loss of their admir'd Master, as to introduce a solemn Custom of bewailing his Death. And every Year, before they offer'd their usual Sacrifices to the Muses on Mount Helicon, they first perform'd the Annual Obsequies of Linus; who for that purpose had a Statue, and a kind of an Altar erected to Him in that Place^a: His Tomb being in the Temple of Apollo Lycius at Argos. ^b Homer alludes to the Custom of lamenting Linus in solemn Verses, when among other sine Sto­ries engraved on Achilles's Shield, he fancies the Fi­gure of a Boy singing to his Harp the Praise of Linus.

For tho' [...] is rendred Chorda in this Place by the common Interpreters, yet we have the Judgment of ^c Pausanias to understand it of Linus the Poet.

But in one thing that most exact Historian seems to be mistaken; and that is, when he tells us, that the sorrow for Linus's Death was so universal as to pierce as far as Egypt: where they mourn'd his Fate in a solemn Song, to be repeated at set Times^d. For it appears from Herodotus, that tho' the Egyptians had indeed among them a Lamentation which they call'd by the Name of Linus; yet it should seem they gave it that Name only in allusion to the like Custom in Greece: Not but that they had all the while a dif­ferent reason for their Publick Sorrow; and bewail'd[Page 4]the Death of one of their own Young Princes; un­der the Name of the Grecian Poet, who had given occasion to the first Ceremony of that Nature among his own Countrymen^a.

It seems the Thebans laid claim to his Reliques as well as the Argives: and they had a Story among them, that when King Philip, Son to Amyntas, had defeated the Grecians at Choeronea, he was admo­nish'd, in some extraordinary Vision, to carry away Linus's Bones: but that being afterwards counter­manded by another Vision, he took care to return them safe to ^b Thebes. Yet in Pausanias's Age, they confess'd, that Time had worn out all the Marks of his Sepulchre^c.

ORPHEƲS.

WHoever has read the Charming Story of Or­pheus in Virgil, and the most ingenious Appli­cation of it by my Lord Bacon; will be sure to de­spise a grave Relation of his Life, and a dull De­scription of a fancied Hero. But the Poets would take it very ill, if the Great Improver of their Art should Himself pass for a Fable. And tho' ^a Aristotle is said to have affirm'd that there was never any such Man in the World; yet there are Memorials enough in Authors of Credit, to prove him not only a real Person, but one of the most considerable of Anti­quity.

As to his Age, a Great Man who has had occa­sion [Page 5]lately to make use of his Philosophy, concludes that he flourished soon after the Times of Moses. ^aIn­deed Eusebius expresly sets him down cotemporary with Gideon: while Suidas extravagantly carries him up Eleven Generations higher than the Trojan War. The Report runs for his being born at Lebethrae in Thrace; and Calliope the Muse is pitch'd on for his Mother: tho' he has reason to claim the Title of Father of all the Chorus, as he is stil'd by the Father of all our Learning.

As the Superstition of the Old Heathens is com­monly charg'd on the Powers of Poetry; Orpheus must be content to bear the infamy of the first Inven­tion, if he aspires to the Glory of the second. It's a­greed, that, after a long Course of the deepest Stu­dies, and an extraordinary Skill in the Fabulous Theology; he Travell'd into Egypt, and bringing thence most of their Magick Rites, and strange Ce­remonies of Worship, he establish'd them in ^b Greece. Some knowing Persons have ingeniously defended him under this Censure: while they tell us, that he found it impossible to reclaim and instruct a Brutish and Unthinking People, any other way, than by the grossest Notions of Religion; and by such odd Customs and Ways of Publick Worship, as might make the greatest Impression on their Sences. That, in the mean time, he abhorr'd the Polytheism he in­troduced; and before his Death recanted all his Ab­surd Doctrines, in those Points^c. But while the Truth of this Apology is so very uncertain, and lies under such heavy suspicions, there's no need to ad­vance him to such a pitch of true Holiness, in oppo­sition to the General Censure of his Idolatry and Im­postures. Nor will the slight excuse of — Sic [Page 6]magnis componere parva solebam ^a ever stop the indig­nation of a Pious Man when he finds Orpheus com­par'd with Moses.

Those who are concern'd to vindicate his Honour, may more modestly extenuate the Crime of his Su­perstition, by alledging how much he deserv'd of Mankind, for taming the rude Savages by the dou­ble force of his Musick and of his Precepts: and for Civilizing that Nation, which afterwards spread its Arts and Manners over the Circuit of its Barba­rous Neighbours. Horace has given him his just Com­mendation, as well as his just History.

'Tis not improbable that his Musick and his Verses had a large share in this Glorious Atcheivement: And 'twas to them too he ow'd the Esteem and Ve­neration he gain'd, by his Method of Expiating Hor­rid Wickednesses, of Curing Distempers, and of ap­peasing the Anger of Heaven. For Charms and En­chantments were always look'd on, as the Divine Works of Poetry: and 'tis pleasant to observe that wherever those Arts are still pretended to, the Ope­ration is still perform'd in Verse.

We are little concern'd with the Philosophy of Orpheus, or with his Civil Institutions, any farther than they were oblig'd to his Nobler Faculty of Har­mony[Page 7]and Numbers. And should we attempt an enlargement on the Passages of his Life, History would desert us in the Enquiry; while instead of re­lating the Course of his particular Adventures, it on­ly favours us with those General Testimonies of his Power and his Worth, which have been already produced.

The Manner of his Death is more talk'd of, and generally laid to the Charge of the Thracian Dames. They say, that the Womens Quarrel with him, was occasion'd by his drawing their Husbands after him, as he past thro' the Country. Having resolv'd on his Murder, they dar'd not attempt it, till the Bowl had gone plentifully round, and inspir'd them with Cou­rage for the Fact^a. Which gave the Hint to the Poets, to make the Villany be committed at the Feast of Bacchus; and the Matrons concern'd in it, to be transported with the fury of the Possessing God.

The Macedonians, who in Pausanias's time, inha­bited the Country at the foot of the Mountain Pieria, and possess'd the City Dion, affirm'd that Orpheus was torn in peices by the Women, in that very Place: There standing at about Forty Furlongs di­stance from the City towards the Mount, a Pillar, with a Stone Urn on the top, said to contain the Bones of the Poet. The River Helicon just by this place was observ'd to fall under Ground, and to rise again at a considerable distance. The Tradition of the People thereabouts, was, that anciently the River run all along with an open Current; but that, when the cruel Dames would have wash'd off Orpheus's Blood in its Stream; it immediately suppress'd it's Waters, least they should contribute to the expiation of so horrid a Crime. There are two other accounts of[Page 8]his Death. The First makes him to have perish'd by a Thunder-bolt, for daring to disclose some My­steries to Mankind, which Heaven intended to keep them unacquainted with. The other reports, that after the Death of his Wife, coming to Aornus in Thesprotia, where there was a Necromantick Oracle, and fan­cying his Euridice to be always behind him at his Heels; he at last ventur'd to look back, and find­ing himself mistaken, was so asham'd of his Folly, as to prove his own Murtherer^a.

Whatever Works he might leave behind him, it was concluded as long ago as Aristotle's time, that there were none of his Genuine Remains in the World. Most of the Poems under his Name (ma­ny of which we meet with in Harry Stephens's large Edition of the Grecian Writers in Epic Verse) are adjudg'd to one Onomacritus, who flourish'd near the time of Pisistratus; between the 60th and the 70th O­lympiad. Not but that some of these Peices might have an Orpheus for their Author; since Suidas reckons up five of the same Name, all Poets: But then their Characters are perish'd tho' some of their Writings have been preserv'd; as his Character is preserv'd to attone for the loss of his Wri­tings.

MƲSAEƲS.

MUsaeus, like his two Famous Predecessors, has reach'd our Times with no certain Testimo­nials, but those of an admir'd Name, and a general Praise. He is said to have been Scholar^a at least, if not Son to ^b Orpheus: and was like him too esteem'd a Prophet, as well as a Poet. For Strabo puts him among the [...] whom he reckons up in the Sixteenth Book of his Geography. And ^c Pausa­nias, making him one of [...], says, that he himself had seen some of his Predictions. He had the Honour to be Priest to Ceres, and President of Her Eleusinian Mysteries at Athens: on which account ^d Diodorus makes Hercules wait upon him in his Tra­vels, to be initiated in those holy Ceremonies.

He propos'd Orpheus as his Pattern in all things: And therefore would not put in for the Prize at the Pythian Games, to be bestow'd on him who sung the best Hymn to Apollo; because Orpheus had declin'd that Honour before him^e.

At Athens within the Old Bounds of the City, over against the Acropolis, stood a little Hill where Musaeus us'd to sing his Verses, and where he was afterwards Buried. It seems, it was at last, turn'd into a Fortification, and call'd ^f Musaeum.

^g Pausanias delivers it as his Opinion, that the Peices commonly attributed to Musaeus in his Time, were the Works of Onomacritus, and that there were no certain remains of Musaeus, except his Hymn to Ceres.

[Page 10]Indeed we have at present an admir'd piece of the Story of Hero and Leander under this Name: which the Great Scaliger ^a has extravagantly prefer'd to the Works of Homer in Age and Worth; and pretended that it supplied the Iliad and the Odyssey with some of their finest strokes; tho' they lost very much in the Copying. But in opposition to that Tyrant in Criticism, Learned Men have generally concluded; that since we meet so often with the Name of Musaeus, yet never with one hint about this Poem in the An­cient Greek Authors and their Interpreters; and since a Discovery has been made of some credible Manuscripts where the Work is inscrib'd [...]; this could not have the Old Musaeus for its Author, but some Learned Grammarian of the same Name; who liv'd in all probability about the 5th Century, that is near the Time of Nonnus; from whose Dionysiacs he will appear to have borrow'd very largely; upon a Collation of the two Poems^b. However, since it has been universally acknowledg'd for so Correct, so Sweet, and so Moving a Piece; it will scarce be thought unworthy of the Ancient Musaeus; tho' Virgil has represented him as Foreman to the Elysian Tribe of Poets; and bearing up his shoulders above the wondring Multitude.

TYRTAEƲS.

HE was born at Miletus; but liv'd at Athens, maintaining himself by his Elegiac Muse, his Pipe, and his School. His story is one of the finest of Antiquity; and the Glorious success of his Verses has advanc'd his Name to the Rank of the Greatest Heroes as well as of the Noblest Poets.

The Lacedaemonians having block'd up Messene a re­volted City of Peloponnesus many Years; and having sworn to carry the Town or to die all before it: up­on consulting the Pythian Oracle were advis'd to ap­ply themselves to the Athenians, and to borrow of them a General, who should infallibly put a happy conclusion to the Siege. The Athenians to be sure were not much inclin'd to assist such powerful Neighbours. However to show some kind of Obe­dience to the Oracle, and some Sence of the Ho­nour done to their City; they sent them Tyrtaeus, and did not much envy the Glory they were likely to get, under such a ridiculous Commander. For, besides his poor Employment of teaching Boys; he is reported to have been short, and very deform'd; blind of one Eye, and lame into the Bargain: and passing for little better than a Fool in the Opinion of his Neighbours. The Lacedaemonians were, however, very glad to receive him, desiring no other Qualifica­tion but his being lent them by the Athenians. With him in their Train they advanc'd with the greatest Hopes toward Messene; and talk'd of nothing but of the Victory which was to attend this Messenger of the Fates. But being unfortunately defeated in three several Engagements; they grew so desperate as to enrol the very Slaves whom they mortally abhorr'd,[Page 12]in the List of Soldiers; and to promise them the Wives of those Citizens who died in the War. And when this last ignoble shift prov'd ineffectual, the Spartan Kings were resolv'd to lead back the Relicks of their Army; and to consult at home about some better meaning of the Oracle's Advice. To hinder this fatal Design, Tyrtaeus began to exert all his Spirit, and all his Insinuation: And at last by his continual Lectures of Honour and Courage, deliver'd in mov­ing Verse to the Army; he ravish'd them to such a Degree with the thoughts of dying for their Coun­try; that being all bent on another Attack, and at the same time, as it were, sure of falling in the En­counter: every Soldier bound a little Plate of Brass about his Arm, with an Inscription giving an ac­count of his Name and Family; for the use of those who should have the Care of their Interment. And now, rushing on with a furious Transport to meet the Enemy, who came out of the City on the De­siance sent them; after a most Bloody Field, the Victory fell to the Lacedaemonians: and the Revol­ters were oblig'd to be satisfied with their Ancient Subjection^a. And thus,

Tyrtaeus return'd to Athens with the surprizing News of his success, and with the Honourable Title of Free Denizen of Sparta, which had been confer'd on him among the Rewards of his Service^b.

It's an usual confusion in Authors to attribute some [Page 13]things of another Messenian War, to this in which Tyrtaeus was engag'd. Neither is it well decided whe­ther he acted in the Twenty Years Seige, which first brought Messene into the Hands of the Spartans; or upon the Revolt of that City under the Command of Aristomenes. Nay, ^a Diodorus Siculus makes it a doubt whether Aristomenes himself did not flourish in that first War. However the Cause runs much fair­er in favour of the second Messenian War, for the Age of Tyrtaeus and Aristomenes both: And ^b Pau­sanias tells us, this began in the 4th Year of the 23d Olympiad.

Scaliger then must be a little out in his Account, when he places Tyrtaeus in the 36th Olympiad^c; and gives this reason for it, because the Messenian War broke out about that time. Whereas the War he hints at, cannot be either of those which lay any claim to Tyrtaeus; but must needs be the Third and Last Defection of that People from the Spartans; when they join'd with the Rebellious Helotes: of which ^d Plutarch and ^e Diodorus both speak. Yet Suidas is not much righter when he sets Tyrtaeus in the 35th Olympiad; and it's likely he and Scaliger were impos'd on by the same Cheat.

The Works of Tyrtaeus were, the Polity of the Lacedaemonians; Moral Precepts in Elegiac Verse; and Five Books of War-Verses,^f some pieces of which still remain.

ARCHILOCHƲS.

HE was born at ^a Paros, a little Island in the Aegean Sea, of very mean Parents, according to his own Account. ^b Gellius, from Cornelius, Nepos, fixes the time of his flourishing in the Reign of Tullus Hostilius King of Rome, who was presented with that Honour in the Second Year of the 27th Olympiad. ^c Therefore Eusebius can't be much in the wrong, when he places Archilochus in the 29th Olympiad; tho' he has been reprehended by Scaliger on that account. Indeed, there are Authors who carry Archilochus somewhat higher, as to the time of ^d Romulus, and near that of ^e Gyges: but 'twill be hard to find a Chronologer on Scaliger's side, who brings him down almost 200 Years later, as far as the Reign of Darius Son to Hystaspis ^f.

He is commonly reckon'd the Author of the Jam­bic Verse; chiefly on the Testimony of Horace.

But, tho' many have been deceiv'd by this place of Horace, it's certain Archilochus could be compliment­ed with the Honour of this Invention on no other account, but because he was the Man who had us'd the Jambic Strain with the most bitterness and the most success. For that Poems of this nature were much ancienter than Archilochus, appears from no less Authority than that of ^g Aristotle, who assures [Page 15]us that Homer himself wrote a Piece in that way, call'd Margites.

Archilochus then owes his Title of Prince and Fa­ther of Jambics cheifly to the notable Execution his Invectives did upon one Lycambes, a Gentleman who had promis'd him his Daughter, and afterwards re­fus'd to give her, tho' the March had been made and agreed on. The Poet's Resentments were so sharp, as to make the Father and Daughter both hang themselves. Therefore Horace, when he owns himself to be proud of having brought the manner of Archilochus's Verses in use in Italy; at the same time declares in his own defence, that tho' he en­deavours to express the Numbers and the Spirit of the Grecian Poet; yet he has neither attacked such unhappy Subjects; nor made use of the same killing Expressions: but on the contrary has sweeten'd and corrected the bitter Muse of Archilochus, by a mix­ture of the easie strains of Sapho and Alcaeus.

But Archilochus may well be allow'd to persecute other People in his Satires, when it appears that he was so rigidly impartial as not to spare himself. For Aelian tells us of one Critias who was very severe on him, for being such a Fool as to discover his own Disgrace. ‘"If he had not taken care to inform us (says he) we had never known that his Mo­ther was a Slave; nor that he himself was forc'd by Poverty to quit Paros and to seek his Fortune. Nor that his Wit was so nearly allied to Malice, as to spare neither Friend nor Foe. Nor that he was a vile lascivious Fellow: Nor, what's worst of all, that he basely threw away his Shield^a."’

The last part of this censure, shows him to have been like Horace in Courage as well as Poetry. And ^b Strabo cites the Verses in which he gives an ac­count of that Misfortune, as Horace has pleasantly re­corded his. Perhaps it was on account of this pas­sage that, as Plutarch informs us in his Laconic Institu­tions, when he came to Sparta, that rough People immediately expelled him their City: Because they understood he had hinted in one of his Pieces, that 'twas better to throw away ones Arms, than to lose ones Life.

Yet for all this, he valued himself more upon his Skill in War, than his Talent in Verse. 'Tis his own Brag,

However, this imputation of Cowardice is no very great blot to his Character. But the other Charges of Lasciviousness, and virulency are the perpetual Stains of his Reputation: tho' he was reckon'd an ho­nest Man on other accounts^a.

In his Writings Quintilian long since observ'd, ‘"the highest force of Expression; Sentences that were strong, and yet short and glittering, with an a­bundance of Blood and of Nerves: So as to give many People reason to judge, that if he seem'd in­ferior to any Poet, 'twas on the account of his Subject, not of his Wit^b."’

Suidas tells a long Story how dissatisfied Apollo was with his Death; and how the Oracle refus'd to grant any Answer to the Man who had kill'd him, 'till he had appeas'd his Ghost. Of which vain Relation we need make no farther use, than to observe thence that he died in Battel.

We find this ingenious Epitaph on him, in the An­thologia: The Author of which was certainly of the same mind with the Criticks Quintilian speaks of.

STESICHORƲS.

HE was born at Himera a City of Sicily, in the the 37th Olympiad^a, which was the time of Jeremiah the Prophet^b. His Name at first was Ti­sias, but was chang'd to Stesichorus in memory of his being the first who taught the Chorus to dance to the Lyre‘ [...]’. There goes a famous Story of him, much more pleasant than true^c; that having in one of his Poems abus'd fair Helen; the Lady's two Bro­thers, now advanc'd to Demi-Gods, took the Affront so heinously, as to punish the poor Poet, with the loss of his sight. But he being quickly sensible of the Cause of his Misfortune, made his Recantation in as fine Verses as had given the injury; and so reco­ver'd by his Panegyrick the Blessing he had lost by his Satire. Horace alledges his Case, when he is writing a Palinode of the same nature to the injur'd Canidia.

The Grave Socrates in Plato's Phaedrus, does not only tell the same Story, but obliges us with the begin­ning of Stesichorus's Palinode.

Perhaps the Poem in which he had not been so respectful as he ought to that Ladies Character and Honour, might be his [...] or the Destruction of Troy cited by Pausanias ^a.

He appears to have been a Man of the First Rank for Wisdom and Authority among his Fellow Citi­zens; and to have had a great Hand in the Trans­actions between that State, and the Tyrant Phalaris. When the Himerians first chose that Prince for their Commander and Protector, and were now voting to allow him a Guard for his Person; Siesichorus, who had all along vigorously oppos'd the whole Design, made them sensible of their Folly, by representing their Case in a pleasant Fable: which, with one of Aesop's, Aristotle brings for an Example of those kind of Discourses in his ^bRhetorick. And which now makes so good a Figure among us in the same Com­panyIn Sir Roger L'Estrang's Aesop..

Without doubt the Himerians quickly repented of their new Settlement; and we find Stesichorus deeply engag'd in promoting the Design of a Revolt. Pha­laris, getting Intelligence that the Poet was one of his most violent Opposers, and that he was now rai­sing Men and Money to favour a Defection, sends him that Epistle which is the 92d in his Works: where he first tells him, he hears of the Plot he is driving; then laughs at the folly of it; and at last threatens him, that tho' the Poets commonly fancy themselves able to escape by the help of some Deity, yet Heaven it self shall not secure him from his Hands. Indeed, the Himerians refus'd to send him to Agrigentum on Phalaris his Order. But within a little time, He, and two more of their Agents, were intercepted by the Ty­rant's Officers in their Passage to Corinth. By the Let­ter which Phalaris wrote to ^a Himera on this occasion, it appears, that he immediately Executed one of the Gentlemen; that he design'd to send one of them home safe, but kept Stesichorus, 'till he could invent a Death, answerable to his Crime^b. But after a little acquaintance with the Poet's Person and Excel­lencies, we find the Tyrant's Fury turning into Love and Respect; and his Resolution so far chang'd, as to make him restore the admir'd Captive with Ho­nour to his Friends. At the same time, he tells the [Page 21] ^c Himerians, that 'twas not for their sakes he releast their Emissary, but for the sake of those Deities and Heroes whom he serv'd and oblig'd. That, he was so far from punishing him with Death, as to wish it in his Power to preserve such a Man eternally secure from Dying. That for the future they should let Stesichorus enjoy his Lyre in quiet: And, if they must be managing new Designs, they should employ such Men, as when they fell into his Power, he might kill without any restraint from Conscience and Religion.

By this Act of Grace, Phalaris did not only show his Love and Esteem for Parts and Learning, but his Judgment in them too. And therefore, when one Aristolechus an impudent Tragedian, had abus'd him in his Verses, and hoped to come off as fairly as Stesichorus: The Tyrant gave him to understand^a, that he did not pretend a kindness for Poets in gene­ral, but only for the best of that Profession; nor would be generous to all his Enemies; but to such only as deserv'd his Generosity by their own. In short, that the vain Libeller should quickly find the difference, between himself and Stesichorus: Not, as a Punishment for his Foolish Verses; but for his Pre­sumption in hoping for the same Fate with so Great a Man.

But, what's stranger than all this, Phalaris, how­ever inclin'd to Jealousie and Suspicion, would never after be perswaded to think hardly of Stesichorus And, when a couple of Base Fellows had accus'd him as the Encourager of a new Sedition by his Ver­ses; the Tyrant gave himself the trouble of three Letters^b, to express his Disbelief of their Story. In that directed to the Poet himself^c, he generously exhorts him to carry on the Design of his Muse;[Page 22]and, if he was was writing against Tyrants, not to baulk any Expression, for fear of his Resentments.

Phalaris expected no great Return for these kind­nesses. As for his own Person, he positively forbad Stesichorus, to address any Verses to his Praise^a: And having only got him to compose something in memo­ry of the Wife of one of his Friends^b; he declar'd this to be a sufficient Obligation^c.

Stesichorus died at Catana in Sicily, in the 55th^d or 56th^e Olympiad, at above fourscore Years of Age. The People there were so sensible of the Honour his Reliques did their City; that they resolv'd to keep the Treasure, whatever pretences the Himerians should make to the Contrary. They, on the other hand, finding all easier Methods inef­fectual, determin'd to recover their Poet's Body at the Expence of a War. But it's probable they might be diverted from this Design by the Advice of their Master Phalaris, whom they consulted on the occa­sion, and desir'd his Assistance. He tells them in his Answer^f, that he was ready to undertake any en­treprize for the sake of Stesichorus; even to proclaim War against the Fates themselves for his Deliverance. But then, he would have them consider, that where­ever their Divine Poet was Buried, he would still be reckon'd an Himerian: and still belong to their City, on account of his Birth and Life; tho' all other places in the World should claim him for his Virtue. That, seeing how dangerous it might prove to quar­rel with so good Neighbours, they should venture to let the Catanians build him a Sepulchre; while they themselves erected a Temple to his Memory, and fix'd up his Verses in all the Publick Places of the City: Never counting their Friend dead, whilest[Page 23]any of these Monuments remain'd. In short, that, they should consider, it would be always a greater Honour to their City, to have bred a Person of such a Character, than to the Person himself, to have de­serv'd it.

But this was not the only Honour the Tyrant paid to the Memory of Stesichorus; for we have still the Consolatory Epistle^a which he wrote to the Poet's Children; where, besides his Art of allaying their Grief, he has given so Noble a Testimony of the Father's Worth; as is enough to make us form much kinder Notions of Phalaris, than we draw from common History.

If these Epistles of Phalaris are not acknowledg'd for Genuine; (as they lie under heavy suspicions) tho' we lose a great part of the true History of the Poet's Life; yet we still advance the main point, the[Page 24]Esteem and the Character he bore with Antiquity. However we may venture to borrow one more No­tice from the same Memoires; And that is, that his Daughters inherited some part of his Spirit and his Vein. The Tyrant tells one of his Friends^a that having been at Himera on Business, he happen'd to hear Stesichorus's Daughters singing to the Harp, part­ly their Fathers, and partly their own Compositions; which tho' not equal to his, yet were preferable to all others in the World.

We have no Catalogue of his Works on Record: Suidas only tells us in general that he compos'd 26 Books of Lyrics in the Dorian Dialect: Of which, [a few scraps, not amounting to threescore Lines, are set together in the Collection of Fulvius Ursinus.

Majesty and Greatness make the Common Cha­racter of his Stile. Hence Horace gives him the Gra­ves Camaenae. Hence Alexander, in Dion Chrysostom, reckons him among the Poets whom a Prince ought to read: And Synesius puts him and Homer together as the Noble Celebrators of the Heroick Race. Quin­tilians's Judgment on this Works will justifie all this. ‘"The force (says he) of STESICHORUS's Wit appear's from the subjects he has treated of: while he sings the greatest Wars, and the greatest Com­manders; and sustains with his Lyre, all the weight and all the Grandeur of an Epic Poem. For he makes his Heroes speak and act agreeably to their Characters. And, had he but the gift of Moderati­on, he would have appear'd the fairest Rival of Homer. But he is too loose, and does not know how to contain his Genius: which tho' really a fault, yet is one of those faults which arise from abun­dance and excess^b."’

MIMNERMƲS.

HE was born at Colophon according to ^a Strabo; tho' Smurna and ^b Astypale put in their claim for the same Honour. Suidas has placed him in the 37th Olympiad; which is somewhat earlier than the seven Wise Men: Whereas it should seem by Laertius's Life of Solon, that he was their Cotempo­rary. For there, we find the Poet, wishing in a Distich to live only fourscore years without Pain and without Cares: Presently corrected by Solon, and advis'd to desire no more than Sixty Years. Tho' (by the way) as we have the Text of Laertius the An­swer is quite spoil'd: while [...] is put in the Verses of Mimnermus, and [...] in those of the Philosopher.

There are but few Fragments of him remaining, yet enough to show him an accomplish'd Master of Elegy; which was the Strain he follow'd: and in which tho' Quintilian has given Callimachus the Crown; yet we find Horace making Mimnermus his Superior in the same Field.

[Page 26]And Propertius in Love Matters and in the description of the softer Pleasures, ventures to prefer him to Ho­mer: as the more easie, and the more moving of the two.

His Temper seems to have been as truely Poetical as his Writings: entirely bent on Pleasures and on Love, and an Enemy to the lightest Cares of Com­mon Business. Horace has quoted his Opinion, about the insignificancy of all Human Enjoyments, if not temper'd with pleasant Humours, and easie Passions.

The Greek Verses which Horace alludes to, are thus set down by Plutarch of Moral Vertue.

[Page 27]Perhaps Lucretius might have this passage in his Eye, when he complimented the same Goddess, with something that looks like the same thought.

Indeed the Grecian Poet was so far of the same Principles with the Latin; that 'twas a pleasant and a pardonable Blunder of the honest Old Commentator on Horace to call Mimnermus an Epicurean, tho' he liv'd above 300 Years before the Author of that Name and Sect.

The most Judicious ^a Strabo informs us, that Mim­nermus was a Piper‘ [...]’ as well as a Writer of Elegies. And Nanno, the Lady that passes for his Mistress, is recorded to have got her Livelihood by the same Profession. Hermesianax in Althenaeus ^b makes him to have invented the Elegiac Strain to lament the Misfortunes of his Love.

SAPPHO.

THIS admir'd Lady who has so long enjoy'd the Glorious Title of the Tenth Muse; has yet the common Misfortune of suffering by a confus'd Story. For the Criticks pretend that there were two of this Name, both of the same Country; both near the[Page 29]same Times, and both inclin'd to the same Studies. Perhaps indeed this may have been an original mi­stake in ^a Athenaeus; on whose Authority the remark is generally built. However since it's impossible so much as to distinguish the Persons; the Characters must lie blended as they have hitherto done; and the surviving Nymph must own the Faults, as well as the Vertues of her forgotten Name-sake.

Sappho, then was of ^b Mittylone, the Capital of the Aeolian Cities in the Island Lesbos: And flourish'd a­bout the 44th Olympiad^c, in the time of Pittacus, the famous Tyrant of that City, and, according to the common account, one of the Seven Renown'd Sages of Greece.

There are no less than Eight Fathers contending for her in Suidas; but Cleis has the Honour to be own'd for her Mother, without any Dispute. She Married one Cercolas, a very Rich Gentleman, who came from ^d Andros. But her Famous Gallant was Phaon; whom being at first a kind of a Ferry man, the Grecian Story-tellers make to have taken a great deal of care in carrying Venus, once over the Stream in his Boat; and to have receiv'd from her the Fa­vour of growing the most Beautiful Man in the World^e. His Unkindness in throwing off Sappho, and his leaving Lesbos for Sicily; as they were the sad Cause of her Death, so they were the occasion of some of her finest Pieces: and of that delicate Epistle which Ovid makes her write to her ungrateful Spark. The best thoughts of which he is suppos'd to have borrow'd from her Verses: The Tenth Muse dictating what the Roman Poet wrote ^f.

Of her own Sex, her three intimate Friends and [Page 30]Companions, were Attis, Telesilla and ^a Megara; on the account of whom her Character suffers so much, from the Charge of Dishonest and Unnatural Plea­sure. It being a constant Tradition that her Amo­rous Humour was not satisfied with the Addresses of Men; but that she was willing to have her Mistresses too, as well as her Gallants. Indeed the incompara­ble French Lady, who has lately adorn'd her Relicks, is very ingeniously singular in defending her from this unhappy Imputation. But however she may de­fie the rest of the World, yet, since ^bMr. Dacier has declar'd for the Common Opinion, she will certainly submit to the Superior Judgment of her Husband.

Sappho was by no means a Beauty; but is com­monly describ'd as a Lady of very ordinary Stature, and of a Brown Complexion. Ovid knew very well this part of her Character; and he only had the Art to excuse it: unless perhaps he borrow'd the Apology from her own Words.

Finding, after all, her Dear Phaon inexorable, as if he had design'd to revenge the Injury she had done his Sex: She resolv'd on this desperate Remedy, to recover herself from his Charms. It seems 'twas a common Fancy among the Grecian Lovers; that in case their Passion met with extream disappointment, there was no way to Cure the Unhappiness, but by leaping down into the Sea from the Leucas or the Leucades, a Promontory in the Island of that Name; hard by which stood the Temple of Apollo, who they thought would assist them in that Adventure. Sappho had Courage enough to venture on this bold attempt: and, as some deliver, was the Inventress of the Cu­stom. But ^a Strabo tells us, that, they who under­stood Antiquity better, reported one Cephalus to have made the first desperate Leap from that famous Precipice.

The Original of this strange Humour is not known: But, till a better comes to light, the fanci'd one of Ovid, will be a pleasant Account. He repre­sents Sappho, as advis'd in a Vision to this Project; and thus acquainting her Lover with the Counsel she had receiv'd, and her Resolution upon it.

But her Apollo, at last, fail'd her, as basely as her Phaon. And, when she took the fatal Leap, she quench'd indeed her Passion; but 'twas with the loss of her Life.

Her Lyriques, of which she wrote nine Books, be­sides her Compositions in other strains^a, have gain'd the Prize for Sweetness and Force with, all the Grave Judges of Antiquity; and such as cannot be suspected of Gallantry and Compliment. The only two Pieces which remain entire have been both preserv'd by the Masters of Eloquence, while they allege them for the best Instances and Patterns of some extraordinary Graces. One is a Hymn to Ve­nus, which we find in Dionysius Halicarnassus: The other an amorous Ode address'd to one of the Young Maids that she admir'd; and this we meet with in Longinus. The last of the two is the most esteem'd; and is still acknowledg'd (as Longinus first produced it) for the inimitable example of the most artificial Union, or rather Combat, of all the Passions, and of all the moving Circumstances that can enliven a [Page 34]Piece. And the Lady has been so happy in her Fame, as to have this her finest Work copied by the only two Masters that were able to do her Justice; by Catullus in Latin; and by Boileau in French.

The Mitylenians, to express their sence of her Worth, paid her Soveraign Honours, after she was Dead; and coin'd Money with her Head for the stamp: The same which we find express'd in Ful­vius Ursinus, and which perhaps gave occasion to the Epigram we meet with in the Anthologia; on Sappho's Effigies, inscrib'd to the Engraver.

ALCAEƲS.

IT's a pretty fancy of ^a Tanaquil Faber, that the Sto­ry of Orpheus's Head (when thrown into the He­brus) being convey'd by the Tritons and Nereids to the Island Lesbos; was design'd only as an Allegory to express the eminence of this Island beyond it's Neigh­bors for Arts and Wit.

We have already own'd our obligations to it for Sapho, and we are not less indebted on the account of Alcaeus, who was born in the same City, and liv'd at the same time, as that admir'd Lady^b.

He seems to have been a Man of the first Rank in the Mitylenian State; and it's certain he headed the People when engag'd by Arms to assert their Liber­ties against the Tyrant Pittacus. At the first opening of that Design he met with very ill success; being expell'd the City by the Tyrants Power. But after­wards he improv'd his Strategems, and returning with a numerous Force, drove out the Tyrant, and re­stor'd the Ancient Privileges of his City. It's remarka­ble, that as all Authors agree he contended with Pit­tacus in Arms, and had such a great hand in his Ex­pulsion; so ^c Diogenes Laertius has recorded, that he had a Contention too with the Tyrant in Verse; where without doubt he gain'd a more absolute Victory. Yet he prefer'd his Knowledge in Military Affairs to his Arts of Harmony and Verse: And when he gives us an Inventory of the Goods in his House; instead of Musical Instruments, we find no­thing but Shields and Helmets, and Belts and En­signs; and a meer Arsenal for the Tenement of a Poet.

But he had much better build his Character on the the Excellency of his Strains, than on the Credit of his Feats in War, or of his Love to his Country. For there lie too heavy charges upon his Pretensions to both those Honours.

As to the Fame of his Courage; ^a Herodotus giving an account of a Battle between the Mitylenians and the Athenians, in which the latter were Victorious, reports that Alcaeus being engag'd in the Action, ran away, and left his Sheild to the Enemy, who hung it u [...] in Triumph, in the Temple of Pallas. And tho' ^b Plutarch has censur'd Herodotus for this Relation; yet he does not deny the Truth of it; but only taxes the Historian with Envy and ill Nature, for not re­cording the Good Circumstances of the Action, as well as the Bad.

Now will his Glory of being a Patriot, shine much brighter than his Courage, as long as so grave an Au­thor as ^c Strabo assures us, that tho' he made it his continual business to oppose the Tyrants, yet he was not himself altogether free from some Designs on the State.

He courted Sapho very warmly, but never with any Encouragement. ^d Aristotle has recorded one of the Rebukes she gave him. Alcaeus accosting her one Day, and telling her he had something, to say; [Page 37]but that he was asham'd to bring it out: She smart­ly replied, that if he had any good thing to speak, and not rather some piece of Dishonesty in his Mind, he would never have been asham'd to let it come abroad.

He is generally noted for a great Drinker; and would take occasion from the difference of each Season of the Year, to illustrate the necessity of ply­ing his Wine: as the Deipnosophist observes in ^a Athenaeus.

His Writings were all in the Lyric strain, of which some little scraps have been pick'd up and put together in Print by Fulvius Ursinus.

Horace (with whom he is usually compar'd) has com­plimented him as the first Inventor of the Barbiton, tho' some attribute the same honour to Terpander, and others to Anacreon.

The force and Nobleness of his Stile, made Horace represent him as sounding Fuller than Sapho on his ^a Golden Lyre; and in another place extol his ^b Mina­ces Camaenae. Even Sapho herself in Ovid acknowledges his Notes to be higher than her's tho' not his Fame.

^c Quintilian approves the Judgment of Horace, in giving Alcaeus the Golden Lyre in relation to those Pieces which he wrote against the Tyrants. And adds, that he is very often of good use in Morality, that his Stile is Close, Magnificent and Correct, and generally like Homer's. And that, tho' he sometimes, descends to Sports and Love, yet at the same time he always shows himself to have been born for greater Subjects.

EPIMENIDES.

HE was born at Gnossos in ^a Crete: or according to others at ^b Phaestus in the same Island; tho' Phae­stus, or Phaestius be generally put for the name of his his ^cFather. He shew'd himself asham'd of his Scanda­lous Country, by his humour of always wearing long Hair; which might hinder him from being taken for a ^d Cretan: But much more by that Character he left of his Country-men in his Famous Verse; which has had the honour to be cited and confirm'd by St. Paul Tit. 1.12. [...], &c..

They say, that being sent, when a Boy by his Father to drive a Sheep into the Country; he got out of the Road to a Cave; where he lay down and slept 57^e, 50^f, or 40^g, Years according to the different accounts. Waking at last, he fancied he had taken but a short Nap, and began to look about for his Sheep: till, giving over that search, he proceeded to his Father's Country-Estate, whither he was at first bound. But seeing the Face of things strangely al­ter'd, and the Lands possessed by a New Master; he run back in a fright to the City. Here endeavour­ing to get into his Fathers House; his Younger Bro­ther, now grown a Grave Old Gentleman, with much scruple admitted him; and told him how long he had slept^h.

Some Authors have discountenanced this Story of his long Dream; and make him to have wander'd all that time, in order to the improving his Natural Philosophy by the experience of Simples. But perhaps, [Page 40]the sleep might be only a Politick Fiction of his, to gain Authority to his Art. For we are told, he us'd commonly to put a much greater Fallacy, on the Peo­ple; pretending, as often as the Fit took him, to die and revive again at his Pleasure^a.

However, the report of this Accident spreading a­bout Greece, he was presently reckon'd a peculiar Favourite of the Gods, and one whom they admitted to their deepest Counsels. On which account the Athenians being tormented with the double Plague of Sickness and Sedition; and, upon consulting the Oracle, having been advis'd to make a solemn Puri­fication of the City: they sent a Vessel into Crete, with an Invitation to Epimenides to come to Athens, and manage the Ceremony. He accepted their Of­fers and, accompanying the Messengers home, per­form'd the Lustration of the Town, in this manner. He brought a parcel of Sheep, some Black and some White, all together to the Arius Pagus; and there let them all loose to take which way they pleas'd. Persons were order'd to follow them all, and where­ever any one of them laid down, to Sacrifice it pre­sently to the Divine Guardian of that particular place, Quisquis foret ille Deorum. By this Expedient the City's Health and Quiet were restor'd: and, in me­mory of the Action, a great number of Altars were erected about the Streets; dedicated, each to the Unknown God who had been appeas'd in such a Quarter. ^bAnd, in the Judgment of many Learned Men, 'twas one of these [...], or Altars without any Name Inscrib'd, which gave occasion to Saint Paul's Glorious Sermon to the Men of Athens.

This Ceremony of the Solemn Expiation, was per­form'd in the First Year of the 46th Olympiad ac­cording[Page 41]to Diogenes Laertius; or, as Eusebius has it, in the 47th.

'Twas this Journey brought Epimenides acquainted with Solon, then engag'd in his Great Design of re­gulating the Athenian Commonwealth. Solon took his Advice in the weightiest matters under debate; and was by him put into a method to compose his Laws. The Prophet particularly directed him to make the People decent in their Worship, and to re­trench a great many things in their odd manner of Mourning, by ordering some settled kind of Sacrifi­ces after the Funeral; and by taking off those severe and Barbarous Ceremonies, which the Women then u'sd to practise on such occasions^a.

Before Epimenides left Athens, he happen'd on a lucky saying, which is deliver'd with Triumph by the Ancients as a mighty Prophecy. Standing one day to look on the Munychia, a new Mole, or for­tified Harbour, he said to those that were about him, ‘How blind is Man in future things! For did the Atheni­ans foresee what a Mischief this would be to their City; they'd demolish it with their very Teeth, rather than let it stand ^b.’ There pass'd near Sixty four Olympiads be­fore Antipater made good his Judgment by placing a Garrison of Macedonians in those invincible Works. And we must have own'd the Wise Observer to have had a large Foresight; if it were not easie for a Man to guess, without the Imputation of Magick, that a Tyrant would some time or other make use of such a place, to lodge a Guard, for a Bridle to the City. However, since we find in Plato and Laertius several others of his Predictions relating to things at some distance, we may so far vindicate our Poet, as not to let him lie under the Scandal Aristotle has cast up­on him, when he says, ‘^c That Epimenides was esteem­ed [Page 42]a Prophet, not because he foretold things to come, but be­cause he told things that were past, and which no body knew besides.’

Having finish'd his Business at Athens, the Magi­stracy made him an Offer of the richest Gifts and the highest Honours in their disposal.^a But he, refu­sing the other Presents, requested only one Branch of the Sacred Laurel, preserv'd in the Cittadel^b; and desir'd the Athenian People to keep a fair Correspon­dence with his Country men the Gnossians: And have­ing obtain'd those Favours, return'd home to Crete; where he died in a very little time after: Aged 157 Years, according to the Common Account, tho' the Cretans pretended he was 299 Years Old.

He wrote 5000 Verses on the Genealogy of the Curetes and Corybantes and of the Gods themselves; with the Building of the Ship Argos, and Jason's Ex­pedition to Colchos, compriz'd in 6500: and 4000 more about Minos and Rhadamanthus.

The Lacaedemonians procur'd his Body, and pre­served it among them upon advice of an Ora­cle^c.

^d Plutarch says he was counted the Seventh Wise­man, by those who would not admit Periander in­to the Number. And Diogenes Laertius ranks him with the same Illustrious Sages, when he writes his Life.

SIMONIDES.

HE was born at Coes ^a an Isle in the Aegean Sea, about the 55th or the 56th Olympiad^b. Before he came to be much known in the World, he kept a School at Carthea in that Island, teaching the Art of Singing and Dancing in Chorus: His School being seated at a distance from the Sea, in the upper part of the City near the Temple of A­pollo ^c.

^d Plutarch, when he tells us that the Poet Aeschy­lus left his Country and remov'd into Sicily, adds that Simonides, did the same before him; whence it should seem he went abroad on some like discontent. But whatever was the occasion of his Travels, the suc­cess of them was owing to his Wisdom and his Verse; which gain'd him the respect and Love of the three Greatest Men perhaps then in the World, Pausanias General of Sparta, Themistocles the Athenian, and Hi­ero of Sicily, the wisest and the most moderate of the Ancient Tyrants. For the first of these Princes he compos'd the Inscription of the Golden Tripos ^e which he presented at Delphi; after the Victory at Plataea; in so arrogant an Epigram, that the Lacaedemonians scratch'd it out, and put some more modest words in its room^f. But this was owing to the Vanity of the General, not to that of the Poet. As to King Hiero, its certain he spent much of his Life in His ^gCourt, and perhaps he died there too. Then for Themistocles he could not but be acquainted with Him, [Page 44]when he celebrated his Victory at Salamis: and Plu­tarch tells us, that desiring once an unreasonable thing of that General, he receiv'd this handsom Reproof: ‘You would not be a good Poet, Simonides, if you wrote contrary to the Rules of Verse: Nor should I be a good Magistrate, if I acted contrary to the Rules of Ju­stice ^a.’

He compos'd Poems in almost all kinds of Strains but especially in the Elegiac: And got as much ho­nour as he gave, by his Labours on the four cele­brated Fights at Marathon, Thermopyle, Salamis and Plataea. By his Elegy on the first of these Battels he won the Prize from Aeschylus the Tragedian, as has been already observ'd in the Account of that Poets Life. As to Salamis we have the Testimony of Suidas to shew that it exercis'd Simonides's Muse. And the Elegies which he compos'd on the Spartans and Athenians who died at Plataea, were in Pausanias's time to be seen, engraven on their Tombs^b.

Part of his Elegy on the brave Souls that fell in the Action at Thermopylae, is still preserv'd in ^c Diodorus Siculus. Besides which, there is extant another piece of his on the same occasion that has a nearer relation to his Story. Megistias the Prophet who assisted in that Glorious Service, and who a little before the Fight upon inspection into the Sacrifice, foretold the Death of himself and all his Companions, was a particular Friend to Simonides; who honour'd him with this Epitaph recorded by ^d Herodotus.

When he is represented by Quintilian and others, as a most moving and passionate Writer, they allude particularly to his [...] or Lamentations mention'd by Suidas; which were so powerful in drawing Tears from the Readers, that Catullus uses as a Pro­verb

And for the same reason Horace, after he has been bewailing the Miseries of the Roman Wars, and at last is willing to turn from that melancholy Subject, cautions his Muse, not to take up the Lamentations of the Caean Poet instead of her own sportive way.

His Wit was beyond the Censure of the Criticks; but the common fault laid to the Charge of his Mo­rals was extreme Covetousness. When he was tax'd with this Vice in his Old Age, his Answer was, that he had rather leave Riches to his Enemies when he died; than be forc'd by Poverty while he liv'd to seek the assistance of his ^aFriends.

^b Aristotle gives a pleasant instance of his Cove­tousness. A Gentleman that had won the Olympic[Page 46]Prize in the Contention of Mules, desir'd him to celebrate his Victory, but offer'd no considerable Reward. Simonides utterly refus'd the Task, and scorn'd, as he said, [...]: to poetize upon Half-Asses. But when the Gentleman came at last to his Terms, and laid down the Money in his Hands, he could presently begin in a nobler strain, with

The most Learned Gyraldus had a little forgot him­self, when he told his Young ^aGentlemen, that Ari­stotle in this place censur'd Simonides as a Despiser of low and common words; which is directly contrary to Quintilian's Judgment of him, tho' a late Volumi­nous CritickMr. Bail­let Jug. des Scavans. T. 4. p. 130. has approv'd of Gyraldus his Conjecture. Whereas Aristotle's Design appears to have been on­ly this, to give an Example of the Rule he had just before laid down, that the Epithets in pieces of Com­mendation are to be taken from the best part of the Subject, and in pieces of Dispraise from the worst. But Gyraldus his Memory will again be call'd in question, when he attributes the Olympick Victory here mention'd to Simonides himself, which would quite spoil Aristotle's Story.

Bating this imputation of Covetousness, he is re­presented as a Man of extraordinary Piety. Tully, has given us one instance, and recorded the reward of Heaven that follow'd it. Happening (says he) to find a Dead Corps expos'd on the shore; and ta­king care to give it a decent Burial; he had a Vision of the Dead Man for whom he perform'd the chari­table [Page 47]Office, admonishing him not to Sail the next day, according to his resolution, Simonides obey'd; and his Companions putting to Sea were all ^adrown­ed.

But the noblest Testimony of his Wise Notions of Religion, is that famous Answer of his to Hiero the Tyrant who ask'd him What GOD was.

At first Simonides desir'd a days time to consider; upon the expiration of that, he beg'd two days more; and when, upon a frequent redoubling of the time Hiero demanded the reason of the delay: ‘Because (says Simonides) the more I think on that Subject the less able I am to explain my ^bthoughts.’

He is recorded by ^c Cicero and ^d Quintilian, as the first Inventor of Artificial Memory; and they both give a remarkable instance of his Excellency that way. He had Compos'd a Panegyrick on one of the Victors in the Games, and was reading it in the Gentleman's House, before a numerous Auditory. But happening after the usual manner of Poetical Di­gressions, to spend a great part of the Poem in the Praises of Castor and Pollux; his Chapman refus'd to give him above one half of the Price, and told him he might look for the other half from the Deities that he had celebrated. Presently after News was brought in, that two Young Gentlemen on White Horses, were at the Gate, desiring to speak with the Poet. Simonides going out, found no Gentlemen, but soon found their Reward. For he was but just over the Threshold, when the House fell down, and dash'd the whole Company, so miserably to pieces, that when their Friends came to seek them out, in order to their Interment, it was impossible to distinguish one Corps from another, had not Simonides by re­membring[Page 48]in what place every Person sat, exactly solv'd the difficulty.

It's evidence enough what esteem the Ancients had for him, when we find Xenophon doing him the Honour to make him a Speaker with Hiero in his Di­logue of Tyranny; and Plato in his Protagoras ma­king the Great Socrates expound his Verses; and in another place^a, allowing him the Glorious Epithet of Divine, which Posterity adjudg'd to Pluto himself. It's plain they were all of Tully's^b Opinion, and respected his Learning and Wisdom in other matters, as much as his sweet Vein of Poesy.

He is generally suppos'd to have been a very long Liver. Plutarch has preserv'd an Inscription, which testifies him to have won the Poetick Prize after Fourscore. Suidas allows him 89 Years in all, and Lucian gives him above 90.

If we believe the Old Greek Epigrams made on his Person and Works, he died in Sicily; and very probably in the Court of King Hiero, as was hinted before.

The little pieces of his Works that are to be met with scatter'd up and down in Authors, may be found set all together in Ursinus's Collection, print­ed in Octavo at Autwerp by Plantin, 1568. Among which, the Epigrams are thought to be spurious, or else the Work of another Simonides.

Theognis and Phocylides.

THese two Poets, who are generally put together on account of their way of Writing, may claim a nearer agreement with relation to their Time. For we find them both set down in Suidas, as born in the same (the 59th) Olympiad: tho' Theognis has the advantage of a few Years in Eusebius.

Theognis commonly passes for a Sicilian, chiefly on the Testimony of Suidas, who makes him a Citizen of Megara or Megaris in that Island. Indeed the Poet calls himself a Megarian ^a: But then he can't be un­derstood of Megara in Sicily, because, when he rec­kons up his Travels, he pats Sicily among the For­reign Countries which he visited^b. The Megara then which has a Title to Theognis, must be that in Achaia, seated near the Corinthian Isthmus. This too may be demonstrated from his own Verses. For he prays the Gods to turn away a threatning War from the City of ^c Alcathous; now Ovid calls the same Me­gara, ^d Alcathoe.

Whatever Character Theognis bears on the account of rescuing Poesy from light and useless Subjects, to employ it in the service of Virtue and Goodness: Yet we find Athenaeus reckoning him among the most extravagant Voluptuaries; and citing some of his Verses, as a sufficient justification of the Censure. And indeed Suidas in the Account of his Works, takes notice of a Piece Entitul'd Exhortations or Admonitions; which he says, was stain'd with the mixture of im­pure Love, and other things, very different from the Principles of Honesty.

[Page 50]Yet the Moral Work which we have of his at present, in an Elegy of above a Thousand Verses, must be acknowledg'd for an useful Summary of Pre­cepts, and Reflections; and is clear from the Charge of Loosness and Debauchery. Tho' perhaps it might not be left in this good Condition by the. Author; but when it came abroad in the World, the lewd and gross Notions may have been taken out, to fit it for a true use; and the void spaces fill'd up with some graver Sentences, deliver'd by other Wife-men of those Times, in the same kind of Verse.

We must not expect in these Compositions, the Genius and the Fire of Poetry. On the contrary, things are here told for the most part in the simplest manner; without the least advantage of Ornament or Disguize. And, as we know they were chiefly employ'd in the Instruction of Children; so one would imagine the Lessons to have been put into Verse more for the assistance of the Reader's Memory, than the Pleasure of his Wit.

Phocylides, as he has scarce any Fragments remain­ing, so is little talk'd of in History; except that he is now and then honour'd with the general Praise of being one of the best Masters of the Grecian Sentences. Suidas tells us, he was born at Miletus in Ionia; that he wrote Heroick Verses and Elegies, and that his Admonitions or Moral Precepts were stol'n from the Writings of the Sibyls.

We have still a Moral Piece in long Verse among the Minor Poets, which goes under the Name of Phocylides. But it will appear on the first glance to have been the Work or some Primitive Christian; from the many passages borrow'd from the Jewish Law, and from the noble Description of the Resur­rection. Some indeed are unwilling to allow his Title to the Christian Faith, from his way of expres­sing himself in this last point.

This turning us into Gods, has given offence to some nice ears, and some scrupulous Judgments, as a sentence unworthy to come from a Christian. But there might be a good reason for the Author's using the Language of the Pagan Theology, on this occa­sion; while his Design was, to make the Heathens of that time believe, that the Ancient Phocylides had some notion of the Resurrection. At least, the Friends of Sannazarius cannot make so good an Apology, for his Address to the Virgin Mary,

EMPEDOCLES.

HE was born of one of the best Families in Agri­gentum, now Grigenti in Sicily, and is common­ly placed between the 70th and 80th Olympiad. The constant report of his Studying Philosophy un­der Telauges Pythagoras his Son, justifies the fixing him in this Period. Yet if we believe, what some affirm, that he was instructed by Pythagoras himself, he must needs be ancienter than the 70th Olympiad,[Page 52]in which that Great Master is said to have died. On the other hand, he is brought down somewhat lower than the 80th Olympiad by Eusebius, and ^a Scaliger has approv'd the Judgment.

Tho' his Birth and Parts might have encourag'd him in the Designs of Ambition; yet he was natu­rally very averse to State and Command, and pre­fer'd his frugal way of Life to the Honour of a King­dom, when voluntarily offer'd to his Care. Yet af­terwards being by meer Accident brought to engage himself in Publick Matters; he fell to Politicks in earnest; dissolv'd the Old Constitution of the City, and introduced a new Form of Government by Tri­ennial Magistrates. This Atchievement made him much talk'd of, and admir'd in the World. So that whenever he came to the Olympick Games, he en­gaged the Eyes and the Tongues of all the Spectators, and was himself the greatest part of the ^bShow.

He was eminent for his extraordinary skill in Phy­sick; and Art which ^c Aelian tells us took up a good part in the Studies of the Pythagoreans. And, Aristotle in a Work cited by Laertius, but now lost, does him the Honour to reckon him the Inventor of Oratory. But the Character and Fame of his Wisdom is chiefly owing to his Perfection in Natural Science. 'Twas this Talent' which obtain'd him an honourable Place among the Poets, by producing that admir'd Work of the Nature and Principles of things, so talk'd of and so applauded by all Antiquity. Lucretius himself, tho' his business was to confute the Author, yet gives us a Panegyrick on his Poesy, when he condemns his Philosophy; and in a Rapture makes him almost a God, that is, almost as Great as his Master Epicu­rus.

He is generally censur'd as guilty of Pride and Vanity in the highest Degree. Out of one of his Poems that he recited to the People, we find this Sentence recorded by Laertius.

But ^a Sextus Empericus has excus'd this flight from Arrogance, and tells us that the Philosopher meant no more by calling himself a God, than that he had taken care to preserve a strict purity of Mind, and so had rendred his Heart a fit Lodging for the Deity.

Besides that Great Poem of Natural Philosophy, some think him to have been the Author of those Ancient Tragedies, which went under the Name of Empedocles. But others have believ'd that Empe­docles to have been Nephew to the Illustrious ^bPhilo­sopher. However Laertius assures us, that he com­pos'd a Poem on Xerxes's Passage into Greece, and a Hymn to Apollo, both which his Sister (or, as others) his Daughter burnt after his Death; the first because it was imperfect, and the other by chance.

The common Story of his Death, is, that he flung himself into the burning Caverns of Mount Aetna; with this design, that by disappearing after so sud­den a manner, he might be thought to have gone di­rectly to Heaven. But they say, this concluding[Page] [Page]

[Page 55]stroke of Vanity prov'd very unfortunate, one of his slippers being found at the foot of the Precipice, whence he had leap'd in.

^a Strabo has taken the pains to refute this Relation gravely, by showing that 'tis impossible for any Person to approach near that burning Mouth of the Mountain, where he is said to have disspos'd of him­self. Nay farther that 'tis impossible to throw any thing in by reason of the violent Wind, still rushing upwards, and bearing all before it.

Indeed, the bare passage about the slipper is enough to prove the whole business a Sham. For, as ^bMonsieur Faber wittily remarks, if a Man had taken up a resolution of breaking his Neck down from a place, 'tis hard to guess, what occasion he should have to make himself Bare-foot first; unless that he might cut his Caper with a better Grace.

Therefore D. Laertius does not fail after the Re­cital of this Fable, to give a probable account of his Death from more rational Historians.

That riding to Messana in his Chariot, upon the occasion of some Publick Solemnity, he happen'd to have a desperate fall, which broke his Hip, and threw him into a Feaver, of which he died in the 77th Year of his Age: And to put the thing be­yond Question, that his Sepulchre was still at Me­gara.

EPICHARMƲS.

THE General Account makes him a Sicilian, this Horace and Aristotle follow. But Diogenes Laertius, who has given us his Life among the Philo­sophers, says he was born at Coos. But his being car­ried into Sicily, when he was but three Months Old, first to Megara, and afterwards to Syracuse, might well justifie the calling him a Sicilian, tho' born in another Country. Now that he was remov'd from Home so early, Laertius brings his own Word to vouch: and 'tis probable therefore he made use of the same Authority in determining his Birth-place. However, if he was not born in the same Island with Empedocles, at least he liv'd in the same times,^a and follow'd the same Sect of Philosophers; having had the honour of being Disciple to Pythagoras ^b himself. He and Phormus are said to have invented Comedy in ^c Syracuse: tho' many other Places pretended to the Glory of that ^dDiscovery.

He presented Fifty five, or, according to others only Thirty five Plays. But his Works have been so long lost, that even their Character is scarce on Re­cord. Only Horace, has preserv'd the Memory of one of his Excellencies by commending Plautus for copying it, and that is his judicious care of keeping his Sub­jects always in view, and follwing the Chase of the Intrigue so closely, as not to give the Reader or Spectator time to trouble themselves with doubts con­cerning the Discovery.

Besides his numerous Comedies he wrote abundance of Pieces in Philosophy and Medicine: which gave occasion to a very Learned Man^a to make two Authors of this Name, One a Comedian, and the other a Philosopher. But we may venture still to keep him undivided, because Suidas, who speaks on­ly of the Comedies, observes that some Persons made Coos the Birth-place of the Author: in the same man­ner as Laertius does, who mentions him chiefly as a Philosopher. Besides, when Laertius in the Life of Plato, has told us that 'twas reported as if Plato had Transcrib'd many things from the Wri­tings of Epicharmus the Comedian; he immediately after sets down an Opinion maintain'd by Plato, and subjoyns the Physical Verses of Epicharmus, whence it may be suppos'd to have been borrow'd. And even the same Learned Man but now mention'd, when he comes to illustrate Laertius's Life of Epicharmus; remarks, that whereas it had been said under the Story of Plato, that the Philosopher was much in­debted to this Author; it was to be meant of his bor­rowing from the Physiological Commentaries which Laertius sets among Epycharmus's Works.

He died aged 90 Years, according to Laertius; or 97 as Lucian has him among his Long-livers. Laertius has preserv'd these Verses, which were the Inscription of one of his Statues, and are a testimony of the high esteem Antiquity had for his Worth.

CHOERILƲS.

THere were two Poets of this Name, both much talk'd of, and both on very different Ac­counts.

The elder Choerilus was born at Samos, or accord­ing to others at Jasis, or at Halicarnassus; and flou­rish'd in the time of the Persian War; about the 75th Olympiad. They say, that he was at first, a Servant to a Samian Gentleman; but running away and ap­plying himself to Herodotus the Historian, he grew in Love with the Study of Eloquence. He is reported too to have been a very beautiful Person, and Hero­dotus is thought to have lov'd him a little too^a well.

The Work that made him famous, was an Hero­ick Poem on the Victory which the Athenians gain'd over Xerxes, now entirely lost. The Athenians were so taken with his performance, that they order'd a piece of Gold to be paid him out of the Treasury for every Verse: And what was greater encourage­ment, commanded, that for the future Choerilus his Verses should be recited annually by the Rhapsodists, with the same Form and Ceremony as ^b Homers.

[Page 59]He must needs have liv'd to a great Age, since 'tis agreed that he spent the last part of his Days in the Court of Archelaus King of Macedon whose Reign is commonly, tho' uncertainly, fix'd at a very great distance from the time of Xerxes. Archelaus had so high an esteem for his Parts, as to allow him a con­stant Pension of four Minae a day; which we are assur'd he always spent, in making much of his ^aCarcass.

The other Choerilus commonly passes for the Lau­reat of Alexander the Great, but at the same time is reckon'd such a wretched Versifier, as to do the Em­perour's Judgment as little Credit, as he formerly did his Exploits. Horace gives the best account of the Poet and of his Patron; while he is making Augustus as much Superior to Alexander in Wit and Genius, as he was own'd to be in Empire.

The Old Grammarians and Interpreters were a little puzzled to make the Faith of Horace, and the Honour of Alexander agree together, in relation to this Story. But they bring off the Prince's Judgment with a couple of Fetches. First they tell us, that the Bargain he made with Choerilus, was to give him a piece of Gold for every good Verse, and a box on the Ear for every bad one. And then they relate it as one of his common Sayings, that he had rather have been the Thersites of Homer, than the Achilles of Choerilus.

The Elder ^a Scaliger makes the whole Business to be a meer Blunder of Horace's. He never heard of the Second Choerilus; and says, we have as much reason to fancy two Plautus's and two Laberius's because Horace has given them such a deep touch of his Satire; however admir'd by all the World. But that there was a Bad Choerilus as well as a Good one, may be made out by other Authorities. Aristotle in his ^b Topics, when he speaks of alledging proper [Page 61]Examples, bids us bring such as Homer has us'd, and not such as Choerilus. [...]. And ^a Quintus Curtius to express the stupidity of one Agis an Argive Poet, says he was the worst Ver­sifier after Choerilus. That one Choerilus had a very happy Talent in Poetry, Scaliger himself sufficiently proves by producing a most delicate Fragment of his: but this damages his Cause instead of strengthen­ing it: for if he had been so Excellent a Poet, Ari­stotle would never have fix'd that Censure on him: for as to Quintus Curtius, he may say perhaps, that He took his Choerilus from Horace. Besides if Scaliger's fragment should be own'd for the Work of that Choerilus whom we call the worst, he will still be no better than

Monsieur Dacier indeed tells us, that it appears from the Histories of Alexander's Life, that He had a Poet in his Court of this Name. But till he de­clares who those Historians are, and where to be found, we may venture as to this point to rely on Horaces Word: who certainly was too great a Cri­tick to make such a notorious Mistake; and that too when he was writing to Augustus, and using all the Art and niceness he was Master of.

CRATINƲS and EƲPOLIS.

WE have so imperfect Memorials of these two Old Gentlemen, that they must needs have lain in the same Obscurity with Magnes, Phrynichus, Strattis, Theopompus, and the rest of the forgotten Tribe of Dramatists; had not ^a Quintilian, ^b Horace and ^c Persius, all mention'd these two Authors, (and these only) together with Aristophanes as the Great Masters of what we call The Ancient Comedy.

Cratinus, the Elder of the two was Famous in the 8 rst Olympiad^d, some Twenty or Thirty Years before Aristophanes; and somewhat more after AEs­chylus. But if we consider that he liv'd within Three of a Hundred Years, we may conclude, that he en­joy'd the Acquaintance and Conversation of both those Poets, tho' so much a Senior to one, and Ju­nior to the other. He was an Athenian ^e born, and we don't find but that he spent all his long life in his Native City: where, if he did not invent Comedy, he was at least the first who brought it into some Form and Method, and made it fit for the Enter­tainment of a Civil Audience. It's true indeed, that the Art under this first Refinement, retain'd too many Marks of its rude Original. Persons and Vi­ces were expos'd in barefaced satire, and the Chief Magistrates of the Commonwealth ridicul'd by Name upon the Stage. Thus we find in Plutarch's Life of Pericles, several passages out of Cratinus's Plays, where he reflected boldly on that Great General; who at the same time by his Eloquence and his Arms, reign'd almost absolute Master of Athens.

[Page 63]He appears to have been an excessive Drinker; and the excuse he gave for the Vice, was that 'twas absolutely necessary to the warming his Fancy, and the putting a Soul into his Verse. Hence Horace makes use of his Judgment to show what short-liv'd Creatures the Off-spring of Water-Poets commonly prove.

And for the same reason, Arislophanes in his Irene, has given a pleasant account of Cratinus's Death, that it was caus'd by a fatal Swoon, at the sight of a noble Cask of Wine split in pieces, and the Liquor lavishly washing the Streets.

The time of his Death is preserv'd in the same Jest of Aristophanes; and referr'd to the Year which the Lacedemonians first beset Athens; which in all proba­bility was at the beginning of the first Peleponesian War, in the 87th Olympiad.