OF all the productions Man's mind is capable of, the Epick Poem is doubt­less the most accomplish­ed, in regard it involves all the perfections of the others. This is the general sentiment of all the ^‖ Learned, though Aristotle attributes the advantage to Tragedy, as to the quan­tity, in as much as its parts being of less [Page 2] extent, and bearing a more equal and timited proportion, it is more proper to excite a less wearisome & less lan­guishing divertisement. Yet may it be affirm'd, that the other advantages, which the Heroick Poem hath over the Dramatick, are so considerable, nay so much acknowledg'd such, that all allow it to be the most excellent and most transcendent of all humane productions. So that the Poems of Homer and Virgil being, by the consent of all ages, the most perfect modells that ever appear'd in that kind of writing; to judge which of them ought to be preferr'd before the other, is, in my opinion, to decide the most important question that can be advanc'd in matter of literature, and peremptorily to define upon the point of their highest grandeur and perfection. For never any equall'd the sublimity and loftiness of Genius of those two great Persons.

This is the sentiment of ^‖ one of the [Page 3] ablest Criticks of the later ages, who calls these two Authors the two Chiefs and Soveraigns of all the Sciences: not to insist on the suffrage of two of the most learned and most judicious Princes that ever were. For ^‖ Alexander, having found Homer's Iliads in a Cabinet of Darius, after his defeat, call'd it the richest and most exquisite work of mans wit: And Augustus made it suffi­ciently appear that he had not ever esteem'd any thing comparable to the Aeneids. by the impatience he was in to see it during Virgil's life, and the care he took of it after his death. But not insisting, I say, on the Authority of these two great and so intelligent Princes, it may be said, that there never was any merit more universally celebra­ted then that of those great Genii, nor any more unanimously acknowledg'd: ^* And there hath not risen up any one during the whole process of time since, [Page 4] that durst dispute it, without dishonour­ing himself, and, by so irrational a presumption, betraying his insuffici­ency and the weaknesse of his endow­ments.

Among the Learned of the latter ages, who have pretended to give their opinions of the Poems of Homer and Virgil, and to make a pa­rallel between them, the most consider­able are Macrobius, Julius Scaliger, and Fulvius Vrsinus. But as they have exa­min'd those works meerly as Gramma­rians, so have they not judg'd rightly of them, having only apply'd their reflecti­ons to the externall and superficial part thereof, and sparing themselves the trouble of penetrating to the bottome. This defect hath hindred in a manner all [Page 5] the Learned from judging rightly of them; and the prepossession they had for Homer hath dazled all those who preten­ded to the glory of being thought learn­ed. For it is known, that they who affect the repute of being thought learned men imagine themselves the more consi­derable, I account it an honour to declare their judgment in favour of Ho­mer, and to give him the advantage over Virgil. And they are of opinion, that it argues a certain discovery of greater sufficiency, to declare in fa­vour of merit, which requires more capacity and attentive application to be known. And indeed as there is a greater depth of Learning requisite to judge of Homer then of Virgil; so men think themselves much distinguish'd from the common sort, in preferring the former before the latter, and, by that means, that they acquire a reputati­on of superiority in point of abilities, which highly satisfies the slight vanity of those who make ostentation of Sci­ence.

[Page 6]This is a prejudgment, which a man would do well to rid himselfe of, how great soever his ability may be. For one is many times more capable of judging when he thinks himselfe not to be so; nay sometimes it is a certain assumption of authority for a man not to take it upon him, in as much as pre­sumption ordinarily deprives the mind of the liberty of judging with absolute indifference, which is requisite for the well doing of it. This is the party it is my design to take, that so I may not expose my selfe to prepossession, if while I am desirous to examine things, I took the liberty to judge of them: but I declare that I only intend to pro­pose my Observations and Scruples, upon the works of these two Authors, yet so as to leave it to those who are more excellently qualify'd than I am, to make what decision they please upon my Remarks.

But to enter upon the discussion of the question, I shall not stick to make a previous acknowledgment, that Ho­mer [Page 7] has a much larger Ground-work to build upon, than Virgil; that he hath a greater extent of characters, that he deciphers things much better; that his representations are more accu­rate; that his reflections are more mo­ral and sententious; that his imagina­tion is more pregnant; that he hath a more universal fancy; that he is of all professions, Poet, Orator, Mathe­matician, Philosopher, Astronomer, Ar­tizan, when he pleases; that he has more variety in the disposition of his Fable; that he discovers more of that impetuosity, which makes the elevation of the Genius; that his expression is more pathetical; that he is more for­tunate as to his natural inclination; that he is a Poet upon the account of his temperament; that his Verses are fuller of pomp and magnificence; that they more delightfully fill the ear by their number and cadence, to such as know the beauty of versifying. But after all this consider'd, it were only to judge of Homer and Virgil, only by what is most superficial in them, as the [Page 8] Grammarians do, if one should frame his judgement on those considerations, since there are other more essential things in their works to be exami­ned.

To come then to a regular judge­ment of them, we must begin with an enquiry, what an Epick Poem is, what is its matter, its form, its end, and its other parts.

The Epopoea, saith ^‖ Aristotle, is an imitation, or a draught or portraiture of an illustrious action. It has that common with Tragedy; yet with this difference, that the latter imitates by representation, and the former by narration. So that its matter is Hero­ick action; its form, Fable; its end, the instruction of Princes and Gran­dees.

Let us now examine the Poems of Homer and Virgil, according to these rules and principles; and that we may [Page 9] not be mistaken, let us not look on those great works by fragments; Let us not examine those two Authors, by their Descriptions, Similitudes and Epithetes: That is onely the superficial part of them; let us search into what is essen­tial therein, as to the design and execu­tion. To do it methodically, let us reflect on the order of the parts of the Epick Poem, which ^‖ Aristotle gives us some account of, to wit, Fable, Manners, Sentiments, and Words, Let us com­pare Homer and Virgil by those Rules, and according to that order.

LEt us begin with Fable, which is the first of the parts of the Epick Po­em, and consider that of the Iliad, and that of the Aeneid, as they both ly naked without the Episodes or Digressions thereof.

[Page 10]The Fable of the Iliad is, that one of the Chieftains of the Grecian Army be­ing malecontent and disgusted by the General, retires from the Camp, with­out hearkning to his Duty, Reason, or Friends; deserts the publick interest and that of the State, to comply with the impetuosity of his resentment; he abandons himself to grief in a soli­tary retirement. His Enemies make their advantage of his absence, and grow too powerful for his Party; they kill his best Friend; he takes up Arms again to revenge his Death; and Pas­sion makes him do what Reason had not been able to get from him; and in fine, he kills the Head of the adverse par­ty. This is the Fable of the Iliad, abstract­ing the Episodes, and despoil'd of all its Ornaments.

That of the Aeneid is this. A Prince forc'd to fly by reason of the Ruine of his Country, comes to seek up and down the World for another establish­ment; He makes his Gods and his Fa­ther the Companions of his flight. The [Page 11] Gods, moved with that Piety of his, concern themselves to establish him in the noblest Country in the world; and he becomes the Founder of the most flourishing Empire that ever was.

Let us make a comparison between these two Fables, and compute the Gran­deur of the two Heroes by that of their actions. The action of Achilles is ^‖ perni­cious to his Country, and his own Party, as Homer himself acknowledges: that of Aeneas is advantageous and glorious: the motive of the former is a Passion, that of the latter, a vertue: The acti­on of Achilles is the occasion of the death of Patroclus, his best Friend; the action of Aeneas is the occasion of the liberty of his Gods, and that of his Fa­ther, and of the safety of those who were with him: The one is Heroick, that is, above the ordinary vertue of Man (so ^‖ Aristotle defines Heroick Ver­tue, in his Ethicks): The other is not so much as rational, and implies in it [Page 12] self a character of ferocity, which, ac­cording to the same Aristotle, is the vice opposite to Heroisme, if we may use that term. For as Heroisme is above Man, so its contrary is below him.

The action of Aeneas has a more perfect end than that of Achilles; it puts a period to affairs by the death of Turnus; that of Achilles puts no period to them. The Siege of Troy lasts a whole year after Hectors death; which occasioned Quintus Calaber, and an Egyptian named Tryphiodorus, Authors of no mean note, to observe, that the Iliad is imperfect, because they are not terminated by Hector's death, but his death made an obstacle to that termination; and consequently, which way soever we look on the Aeneid, we find, that its end is much more fortunate and fully com­pleat than that of the Iliad.

But if we be at the trouble to consider [Page 13] how much Conduct, Invention, Perspi­cacity, and Wit, must club together, in the choice of a subject that derives the Romans from the blood of the Gods, par­ticularly Augustus, who reign'd during the Poets Life, and whom he so delight­fully flatters with the promise of an Em­pire that was to be eternal; what beau­ty, what grandeur, what an insinua­tion of divertisement, what excellen­cy do we not find in the admirable choice with Virgil has made? And what is there to be found comparable thereto in that of Homer? For as ne­ver any Author more honour'd his Country by his works than Virgil has done his, by attributing to the Ro­mans a divine extraction, and an eternal posterity according to the de­crees of the destinies; so it may be said of Homer, that he has disgraced his Country, in taking for his Hero, a per­son who occasioned the ^‖ destruction of so many Heroes, whom he sacrificed to his grief and discontent. Which gave Plato occasion so much to blame [Page 41] hat Anger of Achilles, the consequen­ces whereof were so prejudicial to the Greeks: L' ira di Achille, fù con ama­ritudine ripresa da Platone: The anger of Achilles was sharply reproved by Pla­to, as Tasso hath observ'd after him in his Opuscula.

Yet to excuse Homer, for his ha­ving made that Passion the subject of his Poem, it may be urg'd, that the animosities of the ancient Heroes, before the affability and meekness of Christia­nity had been preach'd, was not either a weakness or defect, as Tasso seems to insinuate, in his Dialogue of vertue; Il souverchio dell' ira fù attribuito a Her­cole, Achille, Aiace, & altri Heroi. Et Alessandro per ammaestramento filo­sofico, non pote tener laa freno, quan­tunche alcuna volta vincesse il piacere come dimostro doppo la morte di Dario, nel respetto portato a la moglie, e a la madre: A certain transcendency of Anger was attributed to Hercules, Achil­les, Ajax, and other Heroes. And Alex­ander himself, notwithstanding all his [Page 16] documents of Philosophy, could not bri­dle that passion, though sometimes he ma­ster'd his concupiscence, as he shewed upon the death of Darius, in the respect he bore to his Wife and Mother. But as the same Plato tells us, that An­ger is not vertuous, but when it takes up Arms for the defence of Reason, so is it to be inferr'd, that that of Achil­les was not upon any account a vertue, since it was far from being rational, as Tasso sayes in the second Book of his Opuscula: Pare che Homero con la per­sona di Agamemnone ci metta inanzi a li occhi una figura della ragione depra­ [...]ata: e con quella d' Achille l' ima­gine dell' ira smoderata, & trapassante [...]termini presscritti della ragione: It ap­ [...]ears, that Homer, in the Person of Aga­memnon sets before our eyes an image of deprav'd reason; and in that of Achil­les that of an excessive Anger, and such as [...]ranscends the prescribed bounds of rea­son.

Thus is the Matter or Subject of Virgil's Poem more happy, nay, and [Page 16] more advantageous, both to himself and his Country, and consequently his choice more prudent and judicious than that of Homer.

THe action of Achilles importing somewhat more of marvellous, than that of Aeneas, in regard it is mana­ged by him himself, without any assistance or company, and that his presence in, or absence from the army occasions all the advantages and disad­vantages of his party, every one wil [...] be apt at the first sight to give it the preference. But it will not be so when a man takes the leasure to look into things more narrowly, and more strictly examines these two great Heroes▪ The first observation to be made i [...] order to the clearing of the point, is that it is likely it was not Homer [Page 17] intention to give us, in his Hero, the idea of a great Captain, or an accomplish'd Prince; but to shew how prejudi­cial discord is in any party, and so to make a draught of an action at the same time, both dreadful and miraculous. This is the opinion of Tasso in his Opus­cula: Per ció fare l'idea di una terribile et mara [...]igliosa attione.

Wherein he did not as Xenophon did, who, describing his Prince, the Grand Cyrus, to make an absolutely accom­plish'd person, confin'd himself not to the truth of things, but to the idea in general, of a compleat Prince, ac­cording to ^‖ Aristotle's precept, who would have the Poet, in the representation and descriptions he makes, imitate, not such as are like, nor yet such as have any imperfections, but the most perfect in their kinds. And ^* Plato teaches that imitation is not to be made, but from the things that are most accom­plish'd. Besides as the image, in a just and regular imitation, ought to be like the o­riginal; [Page 18] so ought not this original to be any one man or Prince in particular, but the idea of a Prince or accomplish'd Person in general. According to this mo­del hath Plato describ'd the perfect idea of a just man; Xenophon, that of a Prince; and Cicero, that of an Orator; by attributing to each what was most tran­scendent and accomplish'd in the i­dea which he fram'd to himself there­of.

And hence it is apparent, not only that Homer followed not that maxime in framing his Hero, since he has made him subject to great weaknesses and notorious imperfections, instead of in­serting into the idea, which he pretends to give of him, the consummation of all the Vertues, according to the ad­vertisement of Paul Beni in his Acade­micall Discourses: Nel poema Heroico conviene esprimer l'idea di perfettissimo Capitano: ò vero formar Heroe in cui sia il colmo di tutte le vertù militari e ciuili. In an Heroick Poem, tis requisite to expresse the idea of a most perfect Cap­tain, [Page 19] or to forme such an Hero in whom should be the height of all vertues mi­litary & civil.

And this is a very considerable advan­tage that Virgil had over Homer. For whereas the latter had not, for the making up of his Hero, any other idea then that of the Vertue of Hercules, Theseus, or some other person of the primitive times, who were celebrated only for their strength and vigour, it is no wonder if there be such a defect of Morality in the Hero he hath given us, considering the time wherein he fram'd him: there being not then either in History or Books any idea of moral Vertue. And whereas men knew not of any greater enemies to oppose, than Monsters and Wild-Beasts, there need­ed only bodies and armes to pretend to the title of Hero. They knew not then that there were some dan­gerous and terrible enemies, to wit, their passions and their own desires, and moderation and justice were not as yet vertues much known in the world.

[Page 20]Thus Virgil, besides the advantage he had of framing his Heros out of the two Heroes of Homer, that is, the valour of Achilles, and the prudence of Vlysses, had also the opportunity to adde thereto the Gallantry of Ajax, the wisedome of Nestor, the indefatigable patience of Diomedes, and the other vertues, whereof Homer sets down the characters in his two Poems: to all which reuniting yet further the other vertues which he had observed in all other illu­strious men, as Themistocles, Epaminondas, Alexander, Hannibal, Ingurth, and a thou­sand other forreigners, as also in Horatius Camillus, Scipio, Sertorius, Pompey, Caesar, and a great number of others of his own Country. Had he not a ground-work infinitely greater to fancy to himself an accomplish'd Hero than Homer had? Thus did the Painter Zeuxis finish that famous Picture of Helena, which he had under­taken, and was the admiration of his age, much more happily, and after a more compleat manner, than Apelles did that of Venus; inasmuch as Zeuxis fram'd his idea from all the perfecti­ons [Page 21] he had found in the rarest Beau­ties of his time, whereas Apelles would frame his only from his own pure ima­gination, which he found to fall short in the execution; so that he was forc'd to leave his piece imperfect, as being of opinion, that he was not able to finish it as he had begun it.

This inequality in the subject where­of I treat will appear yet much more evident, if we but take the pains to compare the pourtraicture which Horace hath left us of Achilles, with that which Virgil makes of Aeneas. Achilles is a Bravo, but withal a hasty, impetuous, furious, passionate, violent, unjust, inexorable one, a contemner of Lawes, and one that places all his reason in the sword he wears by his side;

[Page 22]Besides those excellent qualities, which certainly are not very Heroick, he is cruel towards the body of Hector, so far as to take a pleasure in exercising his vengeance upon it, and out of an un [...]xampled avarice he sells to the afflicted Father, the body of his son. I shall not say any thing of his quitting (with a lightnesse not to be pardon'd) that great and gene­rous enterprise made by a general combination of all Greece, upon the occasion of a she slave, for whom he abandons himselfe to tears and com­plaints, with so many discoveries of weaknesse. In fine, this Hero of Homer, whose repute is so great, and so high­ly celebrated through all ages, is but an epitome of imperfections and vices.

But on the contrary, Virgil makes a conjunction, of all the vertues to frame his: he gives him Religion to­wards the Gods; piety, towards his Country; tendernesse and friendship for his Relations and equity and justice, towards all. He is undaunted in danger, [Page 23] patient in labours, courageous when oc­casion requires, prudent in the manage­ment of assaires. In sine he is a good peaceful, liberal, eloquent, gentile, civill person; his very aire makes a certain discovery of grandeur and and majesty; and that he may not be destitute of any one of those qualifi­cations which might contribute to the accomplishment of a great Person, he is fortunate. Ilioneus gives Dido a cha­racter of him in these two Verses, which may be confronted to those two of Horace, wherein Achilles is de­scrib'd;

These are the three soveraign qualities which make up his essentiall character, Religion, Iustice, and Valour, and which were those of Augustus, whose pourtraicture, Virgil drew in the Heroes he dedicated to him, as Monsieur de Segrais hath well observ'd in the learn­ed Preface to his Traduction of the [Page 24] Aeneid: which is one of the most subtle and ingenious flateries that ever were: wherein happen'd to him, what ^‖ Pliny said somtime after with so much smart­nesse in his Panegyrick to the Empe­ror Trajan: For Ovid tells us that Piety was one of the eminent qualities of Augustus, who made it so much his care to reestablish the Temples at Rome:

So that out of the vertues of Augustus, and an infinite number of perfections distributed and scattered among di­vers other Heroes, Virgil fram'd his; in as much as the true Heroick vertue is a combination of all the vertues, as Aristotle affirmes in his Ethicks. And indeed, if the Pythagoreans would have a Soveraigne, that he might deserve the preheminence over others, not only to be without any defect, but also absolutely accomplish'd in and possess'd [Page 25] of all the Vertues; with much more reason should a Hero, who is the model according to which Kings ought to regulate themselves, be a person of tran­scendent and consummate vertue.

Yet may we allow all these Ob­servations, without giving the preheminence to Aeneas For the cha­racter of Valiant, which Homer gives Achilles, which of all the characters implies most of the Heroick humour, makes a great show, and is infinitely more accomplish'd than that which Vir­gil gives Aeneas, and denotes and di­stinguishes him much better from all those of his party, though all valiant. For there is nothing done without him, and he alone occasions the good and bad fortunes of his Army.

[Page 26]I must confesse the valour of Achil­les makes a greater noise and show then that of Aeneas, in regard it is the only Heroick quality Homer gives him, and by which he distinguishes him; and so itis the more remarkable, be­ing alone: and in Aeneas, being attend­ed by many others, it is so much the lesse observable, inasmuch as the lustre of it is confounded with that of all his other qualities. We find in Achilles only the Hero of Homer, but in that of Virgil, we have Menelaus, Agamem­non, Vlysses, Ajax Nestor, Diomedes, and Achilles himself, if we follow Virgil but any thing closely through all the transactions he makes him go through in the second book of Aeneids

Nay it may be affirm'd, that if we can exactly distinguish between true Valour and Temerity, and shall have well observed the circumference which Aristotle, in the Ethicks attributes to the magnanimous person, we shall find that Virgil exalts the Valour he attri­butes to Aeneas as far as it ought to [Page 27] go; but we must take the leisure to make an attentive reflection thereon, to find that character in him, and ought not to suffer any of all the cir­cumstances, wherewith he endeavours to prepossesse our minds, to escape our observance.

In the first place he brings in Aeneas advertis'd by Hector, who appears to him after his death, that the Greeks have supriz'd Troy, that they are Mast­ers of it, and that its destiny is to be destroy'd. This advertisement coming from a deceas'd person, Religion renders his testimony sacred; and to take him off from all endeavours to defend it, he assures him, that he had done the utmost he could by his courage; ‘Sat patriae Priamo (que) datum est —’ He might have contented himself with [...]hat, being inform'd by so sacred a [...]estimony of the will of the Gods; but [...]waken'd by the noise of the sacking of the City, and the conflagration of [Page 28] the neighbouring houses; he goes up himselfe to the top of his house to dis­cover the cause of that noise and dis­order; and his apprehensions prompt him to take armes, and die for his Country; ‘— Pulchrum (que) mori succurrit in armis.’ The danger startles him not, though he were alone at his going forth arm'd out of his house. Without consulting his own people he runs to the place where the tumult was, the confusion of a surpriz'd City, and the most pres­sing exigency, that could be, call him away; ‘In flammas & in arma feror —’ Having in his way met with Choroebus, Dymas, and Hypanis, with some others whom he knew, he leads them on, and animates them by his example; ‘Moriamur & in media arma ruamus —’ [Page 29] He with his own hands kills Androgeos, one of the most forward of the ene­mies Commanders; he makes a great slaughter of the Greeks, with a hand­ful of his own people; he and they take up the arms of the slain to dis­guise themselves; which proved so suc­cesseful, that he forc'd some out of the City, and pursues them flying, quite to their ships;

But orepress'd by number, Dymas, Hy­panis, and his other friends, being kil­led by his sides, he runs to the Palace, where the danger was greatest, and attaques it with all his might, in hopes to rescue the King and all of the Royal Family; ‘Instaurati animi Regis succurere tectis.’ He comes thither too late, the Greeks had put all within it to the sword, and, being the only person left of his party ‘[Page 30]Jam (que) adeo super unus erami—’ and finding himself deserted by all, there being not any thing left in the Palace, that might occasion his stay, after he had seen the King, the Queen, and her Daughters slaughter'd, he runs to his own house, to spend his own life, in defending that of his Father. But his mother Venus stops him in his way, and opens his eyes to let him see, that it is against the Gods he thinks to fight, and that they are the destroy­ers of Troy, and not only the Greeks;

Jupiter and Pallas are also against him. So that Aeneas, who saw them, might have contented himself, without [Page 31] pursuing things any further; it had been an impiety, and not a mark of valour to stand out longer against so many Gods combin'd together. Yet being come to his house, which he did only in order to the defence of his Fa­thers life, though with the loss of his own, and perceiving he would not survive the destruction of his Country, he arms once more at least, to go and court a glorious death; ‘Hic ferro accingor rursus —’

And there must be Prodigies from Heaven, and advertisements from the Gods themselves, ere he will be di­verted;

Anchises himself is the interpreter of them, and Aeneas could not submit to any thing but that; ‘Cessi, & sublato montem genitore petivi,’ [Page 32] Tis not to Men, but to the Gods only that he yeilds; I am in doubt, whether Gallantry can be advanc'd any higher; and yet this is but the beginning, and the first essay of that of Aeneas: all the courageous actions he performs in the sequel of the Aeneid bear the cha­racter of his valour: which will ap­pear miraculous even in these times, wherein that excellent name is with­out any distinction bestowed on the most temerarious sallies and eruptions of fury and brutality.

From these observations it will be no hard matter to judge, which of the two Heroes, Achilles and Aeneas is the most compleat and accomplish'd; which is one of the most essential parts of the Poem. I come to the second, which is the disposition of the Fa­ble.

THe disposition or distribution of the Fable consists in three things, to wit, the natural deduction or con­sequence of the principal action, and all the matters which compose it; an exact intermixture of what is proba­ble and what miraculous; and the mar­shalling and correspondence of the Episodes or Digressions, with the prin­cipal action. These three qualities, which comprehend the distribution of the Fable, by Aristotle, called the ^‖ Con­stitution of the things are so essential to the Poem, that it cannot be abso­lutely compleat without them.

The first is the Action, which ought to be entire, and perfect, according to the advice of Aristotle: that is to [Page 34] say, as he explains it, such as hath a be­ginning, a middle, and an end. Horace would have these parts to have a certain proportion and connexion among them­selves; ‘Primo nè nedium, medio ne discrepet imum’ And these are the observations which may be made upon our Poems as to this point. If the action and principal subject of the Iliad be the war of Troy, according to the sentiment of ^‖ Horace, a great Master in that Art, who calls Homer Trojani belli Scriptorem, and that of many others; that action is defective and imperfect, for that war has not, in the Iliad, either be­ginning or end; and it would be as it were a Statue which should have neither head nor foot. So that we might apply to that work this verse of Horace;

[Page 35] But if it be the anger of Achilles, as it is more likely, and as Homer himself acknowledges by his proposition; that anger has indeed a beginning; but it has neither end, nor middle: for it is thrust out of doors by another animosity of the same person against Hector for the death of Patroclus. So that there are two angers, one upon the losse of his Friend, the other upon their taking away of his Mistresse. But the greatest defect is, that the rest of the Poem has no connection with that anger; and Homer, during the space of eighteen books, thinks no more of it, as if he had clearly forgot his proposition and designe, which like a starre should regulate the course of it, or be as it were a Compasse which a man cannot have out of his sight but he must deviate. During that long intervall he speaks only of sieges, bat­tells, surprises, consultations of the Gods, and all relates to the siege of Troy. Which occasion'd Horace's be­ing of opinion, that the subject of the Iliad is the war of Troy, according [Page 36] to the very name it goes under. And so which way soever we look on that Poem, it will appeare defective in that part

Nor is the Odyssey an action, any way more perfect than that of the Iliad. It begins with the voyages of Tele­machus and ends with those of Vlysses. All is made for Telemachus in the four first books; Menelaus, Nestor and the other Grecian Princes relate to him the adventures of Troy; all relate to that, there's no thought at all of Vlysses; which made Paul Beni affirme in his Academical Discourses upon Homer and Virgil, that the Fable of the Odysses is clearly double; E chiara­mente provato che l'Odisse a contenga due peregrinationi, e in somma sia di doppia favola. Not that I absolutely allow it to be so; yet I stick not to pretend, that it is hard to find therein the principal action very regularly carried on, and according to the proportions requir'd by Horace, in the forementioned pre­cept for the natural connection of the [Page 37] parts. Nay this very voyage of Tele­machus bears not any proportion to that of Vlysses, which is the principal action. It contributes nothing at all, nay not so much as to minister any occasion for his returne, which is brought about by the disposition of Iupiter and the assistance of the Phe­nicians. Which made Beni say, that the four first books of the Odyssey are neither Episode nor part of action, nor have any connection with the rest of the work. Take them as they are, one knows not what to make of them.

The Aeneid, methinks, is not charg­eable with that defect. Aeneas leaves Phrygia, makes his voyages, and settles himself in Italy; all is consequent in that designe, and all relates to the establishment of a new Empire, which is the true subject of the Poem. And Virgil prosecutes it to the design'd mark without digressing to what hath no relation thereto.

He is also more happy than Homer in the distribution of the particular mat­ters and occurrences which relate to the general Disposition of his Poem.

And it is this distribution and this dis­position of things which makes that admirable regularity, and that pro­portion; wherein alone consists the perfection of a great work, which is neither beautiful nor compleat any further then there is that correspond­ence between its parts. Which occa­sion'd Beni's observation in his Aca­demical discourses, That the perfection of a Poem ought not to be computed by the beauty of one, or several parts, but by all together: Non dee stimarsi l' excellenza del Poema da una sola circostanza o parle, ma da tutte insi­eme.

This regular proportion of the parts, and the exact rapport there ought to be between them, seems to be incom­parably [Page 39] better observ'd in the Aeneid, than the Iliad; for there, every thing is introduc'd in its order and place, and no man ever better follow'd that distribution of matters, and that series of events then Virgil has done. Thence Horace recommends it above all things to the poet, ‘^‖Vt jam nunc dicat, jam nunc debētia dici.’ insinuating that all the excellency and perfection of a work consists in that order; adding ‘^*Ordinis haec virtus erit, & venus —’ in regard the grace and divertive satis­faction in a work cannot proceed from any thing but that distribution.

And not to dilate here, upon what may be particularly and minutely observ'd therein, I shall only make a transient comparison between the games or divertisements, which Achilles makes in the 23. book of the Iliads upon [Page 40] the death of Patroclus, and those which Aeneas makes for the Apotheosis of Anchises in the 5. of the Aeneids.

Games may be numbred among those actions which may occurre in the lives of Heroes, and be so introduc'd into the matters of the Heroick Poem, in regard they are occasions of magnificence, which is one of the qualities that make up the Hero. Virgil makes his in the V. of his Aeneids, first to divert the imagination of his Reader from the mournfull object of Dido's death, which he had represented in the fourth book, and which had something of savagenesse in it; secondly to di­vert himself by the diverting of his Hero; and these are of those sorts of pleasures, which, to be receiv'd well ought to come in, in their place.

‘^‖Ne spissae risum tollant impunè coronae.’ If Virgil had not plac'd his Games well in the second or third book; it had [Page 41] been to take breath too soon, as Homer does it too late in the 23. of the Iliad. The time is elaps'd; 'tis unseasonable; people are quite tir'd out; he should not have amus'd himself being so neer the cloze of it. 'Twere much at one, as if a Traveller earnestly desirous to returne from the Indies to Paris, after he had spent two years in his voyage, should trifle away a whole month at Dieppe, in playing at tick-tack, or seeing playes. This would argue a strange want of judgment. And this we must seriously say of Homer, that he might have been more serious towards the end of his work, and in all likelihood he ought to have been a little weary, and not have diverted from making up to his final stage, being got so neer it. There are abun­dance of things utterly incredible in the representation of those Games. The Surveyors or Judges make discour­ses in them, which tire out and exhaust the patience of the Readers.

The second part of the Disposition [Page 42] which is the just intermixture and attemperation of what is miraculous with what is probable, is also essentiall to the Epick Poem, which ought to have somewhat admirable in it, to move the hearts of Grandees for whom it is writ, that they may be animated to great things: but with this caution, that it ought also to be probable, so to avoid giving an abso­lute check to their emulation, and in fine running them into despair. Truth it self which the Historian ought strict­ly to enquire into, being sometimes too strong to be imitated, is not alwayes so convenient to be the matter of the Epick Poem, as Probability, which has a greater proportion to things than men are wont to make. For example the action of Sampson, who defeated the Philistins with the jaw bone of an asse, is an Heroick action; yet can it not be the subject of an Epick Poem. For though it bee true, yet is it not likely to be so; and consequently it is too miraculous to be propos'd for imitation; we are therefore to avoid [Page 43] that excesse by a just attemperation of probability, without which all becomes fabulous and incredible, and makes no impression on mens hearts, which cannot endure to be mov'd at any thing but what seems possible to them.

Let us see whether Homer hath been more fortunate in the observance of this Rule, than of that I spoke of last. He insists▪ so little on the probable part, and so far expatiates in the miraculous, out of an excessive earnest­nesse to be alwayes thought admirable and to hurry mens minds along with him, that he does not leave any thing to be done by reason, or passion, nor indeed by nature; all is done by ma­chines and engines. If Priamus hath lost Hector, there is a necessity of Jupiter's sending the Goddesse Iris, his Messen­ger, to give him an advertisement that he should take a care of his Sons body, and redeem it from Achilles. Could not his Father, who had so great a tender­ness for his Son, and was so superstiti­ous to observe the ceremonies perform'd [Page 44] at funeralls, and was so loath that preci­ous depositum should be left to the mer­cy of the birds, think of it himself? There must be a machine to put him in mind that he is a Father.

If Telemachus in the Odyssey go to find out Vlysses in the Courtes of Greece he cannot stir a foot forwards without the assistance of Minerva, she is his guide wherever he goes, his remembrancer of all things; he does not do or think of any thing himself, he is a great child, whom a Governesse leads up and down, by the sleeves. Should not honour, duty, nature have mov'd his heart, and have rais'd a litle disquiet in him for an absent Father, and that near the space of eighteen years, but there must be a necessity of another's help and a recourse to the machine? Nay this very machine hath not any ap­pearance of probability, in as much as Minerva conducts Telemachus to seek for Vlysses all over Greece, save only to the place where he is, which she ought not to have been ignorant of, [Page 45] upon the score of her Divinity, from which nothing should be conceald.

And yet this is Homer's method, who to be alwayes vaulting and jump­ing, that he might be every where the more wondred at, would do all things by extraordinary waies. It may be said, that he makes his Gods such as are to be daily Employ'd, and orders them, as those among the Comedians who are to act any part. Mercury be­comes Coachman to Priamus, to carry him to Achilles, to demand the body of his Son; and least he should be expos'd to the Scouts in his way to the Grecian campe, Iupiter makes use of the same Mercury, and his Ministery, to set them asleep: and to prepare Achilles's heart by some sentiment of compassion, Thetis, his mother, must go and prevent him, and dispose him thereto by Jupiter's order. In fine the ^‖ Gods are employ'd to do all things; there's no regard had of their rank, nor the peace and tranquillity of [Page 46] heir condition. They are so many Galley-slaves to be put upon any work.

This is not the aire of Virgil, who so religiously observes what Horace hath since advis'd, that the Gods be not brought into the action, if the thing do not deserve it.

And thus does that judicious Poet in­troduce Mercury in the fourth of the Aeneids, to satisfy Aeneas, who was in a terrible perplexity. The promise he had made to Dido detains him at Car­thage; the destinie of his Son, and that Empire of the whole world promis'd by the Gods, presse his departure thence. He is troubled on the one side to be chargeable with a defect of fi­delity towards Dido, and on the other, of submission to the Gods. There must come another from above and it must^‖ [Page 47] be some superiour power to deliver him out of so strange a trouble. There is a necessity that a God should speak to surmount his difficulty and break that engagement. Mercury does it

The same may be said of the ad­venture of Aeneas in the first of the Aeneids. 'Tis not a shepherd or a huntsman that serves him for a guide, in the wandring condition he was in, which was naturall enough; but Venus appears to him, acquaints him what Country he is in, and with the ad­venture of his companions, whom he thought lost, and shews him the wayes. For such was the conjuncture of things then, that it was necessary it should be a Divinity to raise up Aeneas's courage who had suffer'd extreamly in a dread­ful tempest, who had seen some ships of his Fleet cast away, and had been forc'd by the storm upon a desert shore, destitute of all humane relief and re­duc'd almost to despair. It was fit the Poet should not leave him in that extremity: nay it was likely the Gods [Page 48] ought in some measure to concerne themselves for him, since his piety made him so careful of their interest, and since they were the companions of his exile and flight; and decorum re­quir'd that it should be his Mother who appear'd in it, and should make it her businesse to encourage him, es­pecially after she had been inform'd by Iupiter of his destiny.

Moreover, besides that all these ma­chines and contrivances of Virgil are more grounded in reason and likeli­hood than those of Homer; you will find them lesse frequent, and lesse forc'd, if you take the leasure to examine them one after another. Nay the very ma­nagement of the Ministery of the Gods is much more suitable to their rank and condition, and incomparably more judi­cious in Virgil then in Homer, whom for that reason, Dion Chrysostome calls the ^‖ greatest impostor in the world, and that in the things most hard to believe.

[Page 49]We may adde further, according to Tasso's remark in his Opuscula, that Virgil had the happiness to em­bellish his Poem with a kind of the miraculous part, which Homer notwith­standing all his affectation to find out such matter, never thought of: which is to bestow valor on Women, and to make them fight, as Camilla does in the eleaventh book, and that so effectually, which is a very great or­nament of the Aeneid. Thus speaks Tasso of it: Niuna cosapar pui maravig­liosa della fortezza feminile: Virgilio occupo questa parte, della quale Homero. s'era dimenticato. Nothing seems more admirable than feminine fortitude; Virgil was master of this part, wherein Homer was wanting: after the observati­on of Dion Chrysostome, who had observ'd it in his Discourse of the affaires of Troy.

The third part of of the ²⁴ Disposition is the intermixture of the Episodes with the principall Action. The Epi­sode [Page 50] is a kind of Digression from the Subject; and consequently it ought ^‖ not to be long, if there be a right ob­servance of the proportions. It ought not to be forc'd, violently brought in, nor drawn from far, and so betray its disaffinity to the subject; in fine it ought not to be too frequent, that it may not occasion a confusion of matters. Homer begins his Odyssey, which is his more perfect Poem, by an Episode of four Books; he recedes from his subject e're he was well gotten into it, and to make a regular structure he begins with a piece not suitable to the workes, according to the observation I have already made of it.

Has Virgil any such thing in his Episodes, which are so admirably pro­portionable to the subject, as is that of Pallas and Evander, that of Nisus and Euryalus, that of Camilla and others? Nay that of Dido which is the greatest and largest of them all, never excludes the person of the Hero [Page 51] but it is he that spakes, and relates his own adventures: if he recedes ought from his subject, he still makes frequent returns upon himself; a thing not to be found in the Illiad or Odyssey. Achilles and Vlysses, who are the Heroes cele­brated in them, are quite out of sight for the space of several books, and a man may travel a great way ere he can meet with them.

I leave it to those who can better spare leisure, to examine, whether the Episodes of Homer are not more forc'd and lesse natural than those of Virgil. What reference has the wound which Mars received from Diomedes to the anger of Achilles? Homer expatiates upon that adventure in the fifth of the IliMars crying like a child and makes his complaint to Jupiter, who unkindly entertains him with bitter railleries. However, to try all wayes, they think fit to send for Paeon, the Physici­an of the Gods to cure him: The God, dess Hebe concernes her selfe for him. The poet, who thinks the passage [Page 52] Pleasant, prosecutes it with might and maine. He descends to obscenity, and would bee pittied, were it not for the respect wherewith men are possess'd for the grandeur of his Genius.

But to forbeare being too particular, which would be an endlessework we may say Virgil never recedes from his subject, Homer is for the most part at a distance from his; and by the multiplicity and great traine of his Episodes, he is continually hurried away with the impetuosity and in­temperance of his imaginations, which he followes without any discretion or choice. He may be compar'd to those Travellors, who have a great journey to go, yet every thing stops and amuses them. There is not a good blow given with a sword in the heat of an engagement., but he must take occasion thence to tell stories and derive genealogies.

MOrality, or Maners, ought to follow the Disposition of the Fable, accor­ding to Aristotles design. It is the third quality of the Poem, and it is not so much the morality of the Poet him­self that is to be understood by these Manners, as that of the Actors and Persons who are to enter into the action. What a vast difference shall we find, as to this point 'between our two admirable Poets? In Homer, Kings and Princes speak as scurrilously one of another as Porters would do. Agamem­non, in the Iliad, treats Chryses the high Priest, as an extravagant and impious person, when he only demands, with much respect, nay with presents, his own Daughter, which he had tak­en away from him. He told him, that he had no regard at all to the external marks of his Priestood, whereby he ought to have gain'd his respect. Nor [Page 54] does that priest speake afterwards like a good and vertuous man in the pray­er he makes to Apollo, wherein he de­sires him to destroy the Greeks, that his resentment might be reveng [...]d. That is somewhat uncharitable, litle beseem­ing him, whose office it was to pray for the people, and the preservation of the state, according to his function of high-Priest.

Achilles, in the nineteenth of the Iliads goes to his Mother Thetis, to make her sensible of the fear he was in, that the flies might injure the body of his friend Patroclus, then newly kill'd, and enter in­to his wounds, which might breed cor­ruption, such as might render the body most deformed. Is the same zeal against the flies a thing beseeming a Hero? And is he not an excellent Poet who employes a Divinity to drive them away?

Vlysses, whom Homer proposes as an exemplar of wisdome, suffers himself to be made drunk by the Pheacians, [Page 55] for which Aristotle and Philostratus blame that Poet. But what extravagance was it in that accomplish'd Sage, so soon to forget his wife, a women so vertuous as she was, and his Son who was so dear to him, to squander away so long a time in the dalliances of his Prostitute Calypso, and to run after the famous Sorceres Circe, and being a King, as he was, to abase himselfe so far as to go to fifty-cuffes with a pitiful raskally beggar named Irus? Priamus, in the 24 of the Iliad, does not speak like a Father at all; he cruelly all treats his other children, to expresse his griefe for the death of Hector. He wishes them all dead, so Hector were but alive again. His affliction might have been express'd some other way.

I say nothing of the inhumanity of Achilles upon the body Hector, after his death, but only cite what Cicero sayes of it Trahit Hectorem ad currum religatum Achilles lacerari eum et sentire, credo, putat, et ulciscitur, ^‖ ut sibi [Page 56] videtur. Achilles, saith he, drags Hector being fasten'd to a chariot, I suppose he conceives that he was torn and sensible of that treatment, and thinks that he is thereby reveng'd. This pleasure is not very Heroick. The accidentall interview between Vlysses and the daughter of Alcinous in the 6. of Odysseys is clearly against the rules of deceny; and that Princesse forgets her own modesty to give too long an audience to his com­passion or curiosity.

In fine there is but litle observance of Decorum in Homers poems: Fathers are therein harsh and cruell, the Heroes weak and passionate, the Gods subject to miseries, unquiet, quarrell­some, and not enduring one another; there being not yet any thing of that Stoick Philosophy, which Zeno and his followers taught men since, to make them more rationall and perfect than the Gods of the Iliads and Odysseys: whereas in Virgil, every thing observes its proper character. Drances and Tur­nus quarrel there, but as persons of [Page 57] quality. The passion between Aeneas and Dido is indeed pursu'd to the greatest extremity; yet is there not any violation of modesty, or of the rules of external decorum: nay the Gods themselues are people of quali­ty and good repute; and whatever is essential as to devoir or decency is therein most religiously observ'd. For Virgil had follow'd that admirable model which he had found in Terence, of whom ^‖ Varro saies, that he had, as to morality and good manners, borne the advantage over Cecilius and Plautus who had bee eminent for other talents.

But we must pardon this weaknesse in Homer, who writ in a time when Morality was hardly come to any per­fection; the world was yet too young to be imbu'd with principles of mo­desty and decorum. Morality was more accomplish'd and better known in Virgils time, in whom it was much more cul­tivated than in Homer's. For Virgil could [Page 58] not himself smother his sentiment as to the injustice of the civil war; though it had occasion'd the establishment of the Empire, and that of Augustus for­tune. He could not approve it, and as if his heart had been republicane even in Monarchy, he condemnes it, but with the greatest caution and tendernesse imaginable, by cajolling even Caesar himselfe, who was the Author thereof;

So full was his Morality of honour and uprightnesse, and so opposite to that spirit of flattery, which that of Monarchy began to countenance.

THe Sentiments, which are the fourth qualification of the Poem, have so great a reference to Manners that the principles of the one are those also of [Page 59] the other. Nay it may be said, that the sentiments are in effect, but only the expressions of the Manners. It is not therfore to be admir'd, if Virgil have that advantage over Homer, since he had, after so singular a manner, that of the Manners. He has that ob­ligation to the age wherein he writ, the spirit and humour whereof was much more just and polite than that of Homer, who made it not so much his businesse to think well, as to speak well: for his sentiments are never so excellent as his discourses. And there­fore I shall not stand to make a long parallel between them, but only a particular observation of some of the sentiments which Homer attributes to his Heroes, whence a judgement may be fram'd of the rest. Agamemnon, in the first of the Iliads, saies, that the reason obliging him to retaine Chryseis, is, that he has a greater affection and e­steem for her than for Clytemnestra. A very kind Husband! to preferre a stranger before a Princesse, who was his Wife, and a well deserving person.

[Page 60] Nestor, in the 9 of the Iliads, tells Agamemnon, who desires his advice upon the distraction of affaires, by reason of the absence of Achilles, that he will give him an incomparable coun­sell, and that never any person since the beginning of the world, hath given any that was more prudent and more ex­cellent. The good man reads a lecture full of ostentation upon the chapter of Prudence; and indeed considering his reputation of being so wise a man, he might have been more modest and re­serv'd. Yet is not the counsell he gives him of so great account, since it amoun­ted only to this, that Achilles should be appeas'd, satisfy'd, and by plausible insinuations, oblig'd to return to the Army. This argu'd not any great reach of policy; a person of ordinary endow­ments might have given that coun­sel.

Antilochus, his Son, in the 23. of the Iliads, speaks to his Horses, enters into a formal discourse with them, and con­jures them to do their utmost to get the [Page 61] better of Menclaus and Diomedes, in the course which was to be run at the Games, celebrated upon occasion of the death of Patroclus. He excites them with the most pressing earnestnesse of discourse imaginable; yet with very childish reasons, telling them that his Father, Nestor, will turne them out of his service, or get their throats cut, if they do not as they should do: in fine, he becomes a pathetick Orator to brute beasts.

True it is, that Plutarch, in the discourse he made upon Homer, excuses him for the liberty he took to make Antilochus, in that passage, as also Hector in another, speak to their horses, upon the score of his opinion of the transmigration of soules, which he had taken from Phythagoras; But I referre my self to that philosophy, whether it renders beasts lesse beasts than they were, and more capable of hearkening to reason.

Jupiter tells Mars, in the fifth of the [Page 62] Iliads, after Diomedes had wounded him, that he could not endure him, that he deserv'd the misfortune which had happen'd to him, for haveing com­ply'd too far with the counsells of his Mother Iuno, whose humour was intractable. What kindnesses were these in the Prince of the Gods, towards his wife? What consolation to his Son Mars who was then newly wounded? We should never come to an end, if we minutely remark'd all. Besides that, Virgil is not subject to those weaknesses, he is alwayes serious, alwayes great, alwayes soaring on high, to keep up the Heroick Character: He does not abase himself to act the pleasant droll, nor fall down to a childish familiarity, contrary to the decorum of his rank, from which Homer many times de­grades himself. This latter puts off that air of Majesty, which ought to be an­nex'd to his character; he ever and anon falls into foolish freaks, by de­generating to the familiar way of talking, and turning things to an aire of divertisment: as when, in the 8. of [Page 63] Odysseys. he entertains the Gods at a Comedy, some of whom he makes Bouffoons, by introducing Mars and Venus surpriz'd in the nets lay'd for them by Vulcan. The battell between Irus and Vlisses, in the 18. book savours strongly of the Burlesque humour, as do also the character of Thersitis, and the wounding of Venus in the Iliad. But to do Homer all the right he deserves, we may justly affirm, that that weak­nesse is not so much to be attributed to him, as to the age he liv'd in, which was not capable of any greater polite­nesse

THe sentiments are the expression of the words, and the words that of the Manners. In this part, which is the fifth, according to Aristotle's order, Homer triumphs, and is most accomplish'd There is no contesting with him as [Page 36] to this advantage, which he has over all the other Poets, in such a manner as cannot sufficiently be express'd. Twas also this admirable talent of wording well, that made Sophocles, who passes for the model of Tragedy, his perpetuall admirer and most exact imitator: which gave the Critickes occasion to call him ^‖ The great Lover of Homer. Plato, for the same reason, in the 10. book of his Republick, calls him the Prince of Heroick Poets. Pindar, in the 7. Ode of the Nemaean Games, does not commend and admire him, upon any other account, than that of the loftinesse of his discourse. And Longinus proposes him in his ^† Treatise, as the most accomplish'd idea of a majestick stile.

In fine it may be said, that it is upon this qualification he hath imposed upon all Antiquity; and that the ele­gance and excellency of his words and expressions was the charme and enchantment, whereby he merited the [Page 53] dmiration of all those who have had any acquaintance with literature, and that he hath engross'd to himselfe the esteem and consideration of all the Learned. For whereas the diver­sion and lustre of Poesy consists only in its expression, which is alwayes in a manner the most remarkable part of its beauty, Homer, who hath excelled all Poets in the riches, elegance, and grandeure of his, hath thereby merited, among the ablest persons, that admi­ration which all ages have had for him. Twas this that put Pindar, whom Horace proposes to himself for a model, and all the Greek Lyricks, into a despaire of ever attaining the majesty of Homer's verses; Pindarus novem (que) Lyrici Homericis versibus canere timnerunt. And Paterculus hath this commendation of him in the first book of his History, Fulgore carminum solus Poeta appellari meruit; and a litle after, mollissimâ dulcedine carminum memor­abilis.

Twas for this admirable advantage, [Page] that Lycurgus made so great ostentation of his Poesy, in the Oration he made against Leocrates; That Aeschylus saies, in Plutarch and Athenaeus, that his Tra­gedies are but the crums of Homer's great banquets; That Plato affirms him to be the most accomplish'd and most divine of all the Poets; That Aristides saies in the third Tome of his Ora­tions, that no man ever spoke better; That Aristotle, in his Treatise of Poesy said, that he transcends all other in the height and grandeur of his expressions. Socrates, in one of his Epistles to Xeno­pon; Xenophon himself, in his Banquet; Democritus in Dion Chrysostome, Aristo­phanes, in the Froggs; Hierocles, in his Fragments preserv'd by Stobaeus-Hermogenes, in his Ideas; Philostratus, in his Heroick Images, Theocritus, in his 16. Idyll; Moschus, in his third; Plutarch, in the Discourse he made upon Homer; Dionysius Halicarnassaeus, in the Construction of names; Iamblichus, in the life of Pythagoras; Origen against Celsus, lib. 7. Thucydides, in the fune­ral Oration of Pericles; Maximus [Page 67] Tyrius, in his 16. Dissertation; Lucian, in the elogy of Demosthenes; Themistius, in his 16. Oration; Theodoret in the second Book de curandis affectibus Graec. and abundance of others do all affirme the same thing.

But all these great persons, whom I have named, gave Homer these eloges, only upon the score of the beauty and luster of his Discourse, for which he cannot be sufficiently commended. And it must be acknowledg'd, that, upon this advantage, which he hath in an eminent manner, he deserves to be preferrd before Virgil; though Virgil be the most prudent, the most discreet, and the most judicious of all those that ever writ.

YEt is there still somewhat to be further remark'd upon this ex­pression of Homer, the luster whereof hath so highly merited the esteem and applause even of all Antiquity.

Transitions, which, upon the account of their character, ought to be very much varied, for the greater divertise­ment of the Reader, are much alike, in the greatest part of his work. We cannot reckon up above twenty or thirty sorts in the whole extent of neere thirty thousand verses: and con­sequently one and the same connection, presenting it selfe ordinarily, is very apt to give disgust, by so frequent a repetition: which gave Martial occasion to make a little sport at the [...] and to say, that the Latine [Page 49] Muses are not so light and such libertines us the Grecian; ‘Qui Musas colimus severiores.’

The comparisons, in the same work, are flat, forc'd, not very natural in some passages, never very excellent, though, in so great a number as there are of them, it is impossible but there should be some pertinent and suitable enough. I shall say nothing of that which is grown so famous for its bluntnesse, its undecency, and its mean­nesse, which is generally known to all, of the Asse feeding in a wheat field, and which the children would drive out thence with poles and staves com­par'd to Ajax in the midst of an en­gagement orewhelm'd with a haile­shower of blowes by the enemies. I leave it to be imagin'd what a noble effect that should have in a production so grave and serious as that of the Iliad; and whether the draught and colours of this Comparison afford a prospect any thing pleasant, whatever [Page 70] light it be turn'd to. For these are some Grammarians, who set their wits on the rack to find some delicacy in it. Yet shall not stick to acknowledge, that there are in this Poet, some ad­mirable comparisons, but very seldome to be met withall, wherein he exposes all that is imaginable of graces and beauty in the discourse and expression, and whereof Virgil hath so admirably made his advantage, and which he hath so well plac'd in his Work by as­signing them his own air and light.

Descriptions, which are to be accoun­ted, what is most childish and of least force in Eloquence, are over-frequent in Homers Works, and spun out too much; and they carry with them a cer­tain air of affectation. The descripti­on of Alcinous's Garden in the seventh, and that of the Port of Ithaca in the thi [...]teenth of the Odyssyes, are of that sort. The description of the Port, and that of the Grot inhabited by the Nymphs, takes up eighteen verses, up­on which Porphyrius hath certain Com­mentaries. [Page 71] That of Virgil, where he describes Mount Aetna, in the third, consists only of three verses, though it might have given him so fair an occa­sion of dilating. True it is, the de­scription of the Port of Lybia amounts to ten verses, and that of Fame, in the fourth, to much more: but the for­mer is pardonable, in regard it was requisite to give the Readers mind some breathing-time, after that of the Tem­pest; and it is the greatest description of any place in the whole Aeneid. And the second, which is the description of Fame, is not the noblest part in that Author. For he is reserv'd every where else, and does not fall into those child­ishnesses, which Horace, in his Art of Poetry treats as insupportable in very serious matters.

[Page 52]These descriptions of Woods, Temples Rivulets, the Rain-bow, and other pleasant things, have a smack of pueri­lity, sayes that great man, and are no more suitable to great subjects, than a very rich and glittering stuffe, to another that is very simple and mo­dest.

These far-fetch'd beauties never do well, in as much, as wherever they are plac'd, they cannot have any rapport to the rest, by the reason of their being too glittering; ‘Non erat his locus —’ It must also be acknowledg'd, that Ho­mer is more admirable than Virgil, in Epithets and Adverbs. This indeed is his Master-piece never was there any imagination richer, or more happy, [Page 61] and it is but a raillery, to pretend that he repeats the [...]. There is no such thing, he is impos'd upon; I have coun­ted above twenty sorts of other Epithets in the Iliad, for Achilles alone. Virgil, in comparison, is poore as to those kind of ornamants, which pro­ceed from the rich and fruitfull trea­sury of the Greek Tongue, which the Latine has not. Yet may it be said of this exteriour dress, what a certain per­son said, sometime since of a great Cour­tier, who was a very handsome person, that, if his ranting sleeves and Periwig, were taken off, he would be but as ano­ther man. For if we strip Homer of his Ad­verbs and Epithets, he would come into the rank of ordinary Poets. And that doubtless is the most ornamental part of him, and what makes up one of his greatest beauties.

But it were not amiss, after all, to observe, that these Epithets, which so much adorn him, are very simple, ob­vious, and ordinary. For without any more ado, he calls snow white; milk [Page 47] sweet; fire burning. He does seek so much delicacy therein as our young Authors, who do not allow any epithets supportable, if they have not a kind of contrary or counter-signification to the words join'd with them, to give a more extraordinary aire to the discourse, and to make it glitter and sparkle by that opposition, of which the depraved taste makes a delicacy. For there are some who think it the plea­santest thing in the world to see those words join'd together, which cannot endure one the other. Ovid, in his Metamorphoses and Heroick Epistles, and Velleius Paterculus were the first that gave that false gusto to their age, which was so much a lover of simplicity. Seneca would needs imitate them, with all the writers of Decla­mations, the fragments of whom we read in his Controversies; but they did it without that distinctive pre­caution, which is observable in Ovid and Paterculus, who knew how to be thrifty in the disposal of those counterfeit pearles, Lucan and [Page 75] Tacitus made that character their par­ticular study, and made an art of clinching or quibbling, which for the most part is only a game consisting of words opposite among themselves, such as superficial witts are so much enamour'd of. And in fine, 'twas con­sequently to the propagation of this universal debauche, that the Epigrams of Martial, and the Panegyricks of Pliny, Pacatus, and Mamertinus came into play. Not but that this kind of writing has its beauties, but they are like those of women who paint, and are forc'd to seek out exteriour and artificial or­naments, because they have not any naturall or reall ones.

Nor is it to be argu'd hence, but that an Epithet which is smart, brisk, and well plac'd, is a marvailous or­nament in a discourse, as that us'd by Dido in her Epistle to Aeneas, ‘Exerces preciosa odia —’ in the Heroick Epistles of Ovid, which [Page 36] alwayes call the most glittering par [...] in those works that are the pure pro­ductions of the mind, and whereto our Poets will never attain; And that which Velleius Paterculus gives to L. Do­mitius, when he calls him eminentissimae simplicitatis virum, and abundance of others which may be found in those two Authors. But whereas those kinds of expressions betray a certain luster, it happens, that some have not the moderation requisite in the cautious husbanding of them which they had. For the ordinary imperfection of those persons who have the talent of expres­sing themselves in a pleasant and face­tious way, is that they are apt to speak too much, in regard they suffer them­selves to be transported with the suc­cess they meet withal, accustome them­selves thereto, and at length become dis­gustful and importunate, through an ex­cessive passion they have to be alwayes divertive in their discourse. So that it were much better, in order to the preventing of this imperfection, and the more to keep themselves within [Page 57] the limits of sound sence, especially in a continued discourse, which ought to discover a certain character of gran­deur and elevation, to forbear the use of those so far fetch'd Epithets, and such as have a certain aire of mystery. Those which are the most obvious and common, and which best expresse the nature of the things, are alwayes the most pertinent, such as are those used by Homer. I must acknowledge that to do this, there is requisite a greater stock of prudence and discernment, than of wit and fancy but men never speak well, but when they think wisely, and such as do so, are never short of their rec­koning, as the Critick hath observed; Adeo nihil commodius est quam semper [...]um sapientiâ loqui. Which is to be understood, as much of the nature of [...]he discourse, as of its morality.

WHoever is desirous to judge with any kind of certainty of these two incomparable Authors, must be very exact in discerning between their several characters, which are extream­ly opposite. For if Homer be observa­ble in the inclination he has to speak much, Virgil is remarkable for his incli­nation to be silent: and it is from this difference, that we may make an exact computation of the singularity of their Genius's, and of the essential mark of their character. There are many per­sons guilty of a great affectation to be thought Criticks, and make it their business to judge of Virgil by profound reflections, without having ever ob­serv'd in what the eminent quality of the fancy and judgement of that Poet, whereby he is distinguish'd from [Page 79] all the rest, does consist. For my own part, who admire nothing so much in his way of writing, as the admirable reservednesse and moderation he is master of in expressing things, and in not expressing any more then what is requisite, I have ever been of opinion, that he might be distinguish'd by them. A man must be very attentive in the perusall of him; to find out that his reservednesse and silence in certain passages, speakes much, and argues an exquisite discretion; and when he has discover'd the secret of being well assur'd of his meaning, he finds him sometimes as admirable in what he saies not, as in what he sayes.

And for my part, I do not know any Author but Virgil that has a talent of prudence great enough to keep in the whole stock of his moderation and stayednesse of iudgement, amidst the ardour and excitations of an ima­gination enflam'd by the genius of Poesy, and that the most inspire'd of any that ever was, Lucan, in compa­rison [Page 60] of him, is an inconsiderate writer; and Statius, a furious one. Nor could Ovid ever arrive to that excellency, till towards his latter dayes, when he writ his Fasti, which is the only part of his works, wherein he is moderate and discreet: in all the rest he dis­covers his youthfullnesse. Nor do his inductions of examples and comparis­ons in his books De Tristibus, and his other Elegies, come neer that cha­racter; and his Heroick Epistles, which I call the flower of the Roman wit, have not any thing of that matu­rity of judgement, which is the trans­cendent perfection of Virgil. As to which perticular I compare him to those Generalls of Armies, who carry along with them into the midst of a fight all the flegme and tranquillity of there Closet Counsells, and who in the greatest heat of action, amidst the noise of Canons, Drums, and Trum­pets, and the general distraction and tu­mult of an Engagement, are not at­tentive to any thing but what their own prudence and moderation dictates [Page 81] to them, inducing them to consult only thier own reason. And this is a character not to be imagin'd in any but great Soules, and such as dare pretend to a consummate wisdome, as was that o Virgil, who in the heat of his poetica fury, saies no more then is requisite to be said, and alwayes leaves more to be thought of, then he saies of a thing.

This is a commendation much like that which Pliny gives the admirable Painter named Timantes, whose elogy he makes in the 10. chap. of the 35. book of his History: Timanti plurimum adfuit ingenii, in omnibus operibus ejus intelligitur plus semper quam pingitur. And a litle lower he addes, the better to expresse his reflection; Rarum in successu artis, ut ostendat etiam quae occultat: And which was that miraculous elo­quence whereof Cicero speaks to his Friend: ^‖ Sumpsi aliquid hoc loco de tuâ eloquentiâ, nam tacui. And it is my judgement, that in this exact circumspection, and this admirable [Page 82] parsimony of discourse, we are to find the true character of Virgil, who slightly passes over things, as a Traveller that is in great haste, without insisting too long upon them: he generously prunes & cuts off all the superfluities, that he may retaine but what is purely necessary. And indeed in that anatomy of things consists the excellency of a work, which is never more perfect, than when there cannot be any thing cut off from it.

It was also in this perfection that that exquisitenesse of sound sence con­sisted, which reign'd at Rome in the time of Augustus, and which was the character of all the excellent witts that writ then, and whom we look on as the only modells of the purity of dis­course, sobriety of expressions, and that admirable aire of writing which is in vogue at this day.

Of this we have a proofe in the or­der which Augustus gave Tacca and Varius, to review the Aeneid, which the Author would have suppress'd, as [Page 83] not thinking is compleat. He permitted them to cut off those parts of it, which might be taken away without injury to the work; but he forbad them to doe any thing thereto, nay not so much as to compleat the Verses which were imperfect. Twas the hu­mour and gusto of that happy time to cut off what they could in discourse, to be sober and frugal therein, and to speak little. Lucretius, who is so pure and so polite had not yet attai'd that perfection. And Catullus, who was the first among the Romanes, that began to improve and heighten the Language wtih the advantages of elegance, had not as yet learnt that great precept which Horace has since so much inculcated to the Pisone [...]s; ‘— Prudens versus reprehendet inertes Ambitiosa recidet ornamenta; Luxuriantia compescat:’ He does not repeat any thing else, in his Satyr upon Lucilius: ‘[Page 84]—Currat sententia, neu se Impediat verbis lassas onerantibus aures.’ And a litle lower, speaking of the same Lucilius, hee saies, that if he had flo­rish'd in his time, he would have known how to have contracted him­self, and no doubt would have dash'd out many things out of his verses; ‘Detereret sibi multa, recideret omne quod ultra Perfectum traheretur —’ This was their course in that time, which they had learnt from the dictates of sound sence, then in its Empire, which Virgil hath so well practis'd, and where­of he makes his essentiall character.

On the contrary, that of Homer is observable for his tediousnesse in spea­king and relating things. He is the great­est talker of all. Antiquity, insomuch that the Greeks themselves, though chargeable with excessive discoursing above all others, have reprehended Homer for that intemperance of words, [Page 85] as a considerable miscarriage in dis­course, which they call'd [...]. He is ever in his rehearsalls, not only as to the same words, but also to the same things; and so he is in a perpetual circulation of repetitions. That flux of the tongue, and that ebullition of fancy make him carry things much beyond the mark they ought to have been levell'd at; and thence it comes, that the draughts he makes of things are for the most part too accu­rate; and by that means he leaves no­thing to be done by the imagination of the Reader, who, in order to his particular satifaction, ought regularly to be as much taken up with what he thinks of, as what he reads.

Vpon this account is it that Virgil never burthens his thoughts with the whole matter lying before him, that so he may leave some part of it expos'd to the reflections of those who read him. Young Authors, who are all apt to be impertinently zealous in what they do, and to run into [Page 86] the character that has a smock of puerility; and all those who are lesse fortify'd with judgment, then fancy, are not able to comprehend this max­ime: for, out of a defect of experi­ence, they follow their natural incli­nation, and as by an excess of dis­course and verbosity they carry things beyond their proper limits, so they ordi­narily give ideas for true objects, by making too too accurate representati­ons of all the matter they handle. This is an imperfection which Apelles reprehended in the Painters of his time, as Cicero observes, Pictores eos errare dicebat, qui non sentirent, quid esset satis.

Yet are we further to observe, that this defect relates only to the expres­sion and the words. For it is a very great perfection for any one to give the most compleat images he can of things, and alwaies to raise his super­structures upon the ground-work of the greatest ideas.

YEt is it to be acknowledg'd, that there cannot be any thing more advantageously said of Homer, than what Aristotle, the wisest and most judicious of all the Criticks, hath said of him. He proposes him in his Books of Poe­sy for the model of the Epick Poem, and he derives all his precepts from the Iliad and the Odyssey. But it may also be urg'd on the other side, that Aristotle having not met with, in his time, but only two inconsiderable Po­ems, one upon Hercules. and the other upon Theseus, whereof he speaks in his Poeticks, which might come into a­ny contest with the Iliad and the O­dyssey, it is not to be wondred at, that he takes these for a model, since the two others are rather the Lives [Page 88] of Hercules and Thesius, than the sub­ject of an Epick action.

And that was it made Horace speak so earnestly against those Poets, whom he calls Cyclick Authors, by reason of the pure natural and historical repre­sentation they gave of things, multi­plying matters clearly against the sim­plicity and the unity of action, which is essential to the Epopaea: upon which score we are yet further to examine Homer and Virgil, that so we may not omit any thing requir'd in an exact comparison.

I grant, that as to the unity of the time, the Iliad and the Odyssey have the preheminence over the Aeneid: for the action of the Odyssey, from V­lysses's leaving Calypso to his being dis­cover'd, lasts but forty five days; and the action of the Iliad takes up but eight or nine months at most: and the Aeneid takes up a whole year and somewhat more.

[Page 89]Nay some pretend that the unity of action is more perfect in the two Poems of Homer, than it is in that of Virgil; inasmuch as not only the action of both of them is one and the same, but also of one single person. For Achilles does all things himself; the same thing is to be said of Vlysses, (as Aristotle affirms) who reestablishes himself without the assistance of any other: and that seems to argue a cer­tain hint of grandeur. Aeneas does not any thing but with the assistance of his people; which is not so much to be wondred at. And Paul Beni ob­serves in the second of his Academical Discourses, that the Apologist of Dante pretends that his Poem is more perfect in regard it is the action of one single person: Costui Poema, oltre esser He­roico e fatto anco di attione, di uno as­solutamente solo. E ciò ad essempio, non gia de l Aeneide, ove con assercito opra Enea: ma [...]en dell Iliade e Odissea; do­ve al fin e Achille e Vlisse solo fa Heroiche imprese: perciò conclude che il Poema di Dante sia eccelentemente maraviglioso e [Page 90] This Poem, besides that it is Heroick, is also compos'd of action, and that of one person only: And this according to the example, not only of the Aeneid, where­in Aeneas acts with an Army; but al­so of the Iliad and Odyssey, where in fine both Achilles and Ulysses perform alone all the heroick actions: whence he concludes, that Dante's Poem is ex­cellently marvellous and illustrious.

To this it may be answer'd, that the unity of the person is sufficiently preserv'd by that of his Character and condition; That the Epick Poem ought to present the perfect Idea of a great Captain and General of an Army, and and not of a Knight-Errant, who most commonly is but a phantasm and a Ro­mantick Palladine: and it frames a greater character of a Hero, and it attributes to him a much more noble aire of dignity, to make him a Soveraign and the head of a people, as Beni ob­serves in the same place: L' attione Heroica debbe esse una d'un solo, ma pe­rò Prencipe & capo di molti: in regard [Page 91] that, as he saies, great enterprises, such as the conquest of Countries and Kingdoms, the sieges of Cities, and Battels, ought to be carry'd on by Armies, managed by the conduct and designes of one person, which is as much as is requisite for the unity of the action. Besides, there is always a defectiveness as to matter of probabi­lity in those actions of Knight-Errants and solitary Worthies, such as Hercu­les was, and however they are dress'd up, they still smell strong of the Ro­mance and Fable.

Nay we may further add, that the unity of action, so it be rightly ta­ken, is more perfectly serv'd in the Aeneid, than in the Iliad, where af­ter the death of Hector, which ought to have clos'd the action, there are still two Books to come; the 23. which comprehends the Exercises celebrated for the death of Patroclus, and which contribute nothing to the principal action; and the 24. which contains the Lamentations of the Trojans, and the [Page 92] ransoming of Hector's body, which have no connection to the principal action, that being compleat without it.

There is yet this further fault to be noted, that a Poem, which had no other design then to celebrate the ho­nour of the Greeks, should be clos'd with that which is done to Hector, the chiefest of their Enemies, where the Poet employes a whole Book, to give the description of his funeral so­lemnities; which procedure seems to be in some manner defective; and it is of such a work we may cite that passage of Horace, which few under­stand as it ought to be understood;

Homer takes his beginning the best in the world, for the honour of the Greeks: their glory is the only thing he prosecutes in all his work; and he [Page 93] makes an end by that of Hector, whose loss he brings in lamented with so much magnificence. Was it not a lit­tle mistake in him to forget the design he had proposed to himself? Does not the Aeneid take its period much bet­ter by the death of Turnus, which clo­ses the action? Virgil does not carry on things any farther; he knew well enough, that he had committed a fault if he had not stop'd there.

Abundance of other observations might be made upon a minute exami­nation of those two works; and par­ticularly upon the delicacy wherewith Virgil reflects on things, wherein he hath still a great advantage over Homer, whose thoughts are not delicate upon any subject. For what more insinua­ting, what more surprising can there be imagin'd then that of the Apotheo­sis of Anchises, in the fift of the Aene­id, which so highly flatters Augustus and the Romans, with an extraction whereof he so ingeniously establishes the Divinity? Not to make any men­tion of the most illustrious Roman Fa­milies [Page 94] allegorically decipher'd in the combats describ'd in the same Book, the mystery and application whereof Paul Beni explicates in his Commenta­ries upon Virgil.

What is there to be found in Homer any way comparable to that passage, which I have ever look'd upon as of exquisite delicacy, in the sixt of the Aeneids, where Virgil is content to at­tribute to the Greeks, the glory of be­ing ingenious, reserving to the Ro­mans that of Authority and jurisdi­ction?

What shall I say of the ‘Littora littoribus contraria —’ in the fourth Book, which works so admirable an effect in order to the war between Rome and Carthage? Of [Page 95] Dido's imprecation, by the expression of so passionate a revenge? ‘Exoriare aliquis nostris ex ossibus ul­tor, &c.’ which, in the obscurity of future e­vents does so delicatly point at the great Hannibal, the most illustrious enemy of the Common wealth, and with whom Rome was so long disputing the Empire of the world. The death of Marcellus in the sixt is of the same force, nay hath somewhat that is more insinuating and more exquisite, as it ap­pear'd by the impression which that pas­sa [...]e on the spirit of Augustus, and much more upon the heart of Octavia his Mo­ther, who fell into a swound at the very recitation, [...] which Virgil made of it in the Emperors presence.

shall say nothing of all the com­plants of Dido in the fourth, which ma [...]e Saint Augustine weep so often as, he himself acknowledges in his ‖ Con­fessions. ³² [Page 96] He is far enough from have­ing that tenderness for Homer whom he complements no better, then to call him dulcissimè vanus.

In a word, Virgil is much more solid, his expressions have somewhat in them that is more real; He does not speak so much at randome, nay his very dis­courses of greatest tendernesse and passi­on, which in any other would disco­ver a certain character of lightness, have not in his work any thing that is fri­volous and chimericall; there is no [...] any thing, but has some ground, and his words are so many things; which renders him more affective and more pa­theticall

There are yet a thousand other pas­sages, which I shall not stand to insis [...] upon, as that of the second of the Aeneid;

Iliaci cineres, et flamma extrema meoru [...] which alone destroys all the objectios that may be made against Aeneas, of [Page 97] his defect in point of valour. The death of Dido, touch'd over with an aire so pathetick, which begins with this Verse ‘At trepida et caeptis immanibus;—’ The abbridgement of the Romane Histo­ry grav'd upon the Buckler in the eight, the explication of the destinies of the Romane Empire by Jupiter, in the first, the Conquests of Augustus, to whom he dedicates his work in the sixt which make an admirable elogy of that Emperour, ‘Hic vir hic est &c.’ and all those admirable insinuations, whereof he does with so much artifice make his advantage, to force his way into mens apprehensions, and to inspire them with his inclinations and affections, which every where beare the expression of his genius, which are are so many mi­racles of art, and cannot be perceiv'd but only by such as are intimately acquaint­ed with him, and accordingly able to judge of him. For there is a greater [Page 98] penetration and perspicacity of appre­hension requisite, to discover what is good and excellent in a work, than to find in it what is defective: inasmuch as the defects are more remarkable than the true beauties, which easily elude the reflections of persons of an ordinary rate of understanding, and discover themselves only to the more intelligent.

But whereas the noblest passage of Virgil, and his reall Master-piece, is the passion of Dido, I cannot let it pass without allowing it a stricter reflecti­on than any of the rest. True it is, that Eloquence never employ'd all its advantages of artifice and ornaments in any Work with so great success as in that. All the degrees of that passion, all the renovations of that growing affection, and that well known frailty of the sexe, are there discover'd in such a manner as raises admiration in the best able to judge of them; and the greater their abilities are, the more will they be dispos'd to discover the excellency of that passage, and to ad­mire [Page 99] all the parts of it. All is neat, delicate and highly passionate in the description of that adventure, and the world is not likely ever to see any thing that shall surpasse it.

Tasso indeed may haply afford us some passages which seem to have a greater eye of lustre, as that of the adventure of Tancrede and Clorinda: but if we look on him of all sides, we shall find, that all the proportions and correspondencies with the principal action, do not seem to be so exactly ob­serv'd there, as they are in that of Dido.

Yet is there one great reproach made to Virgil, to wit, that he has put a filthy slur on that Lady, by at­tributing so great a passion to her, contrary to her true character. For History makes her a woman of good re­pute. But this is an artifice, and that the most delicate and subtle of any observable in Virgil, who to excite a certain contempt for a Nati­on which was afterwards to be so de­testable [Page 100] to the Romans, conceiv'd himself oblig'd, not to celebrate any vertue in her, who should be the foun­dress of it, imagining he might, with­out any disparagement to himself, sacrifice her, the better to flatter his own Country, which no doubt, would have boggled at the reputation Histo­ry gave that Princess. And whereas this artifice was advanc'd only to hu­mour the Romans, and that the Poet himself look'd on them as Masters of the world, with whose sentiments all other Nations ought to comply, or at least to conform thereto, yet he thought himself concern'd to use all precautions, to prepossess their minds, upon that disguising of the truth. To that purpose he cunning­ly brings the Gods into the plot, to put a better gloss upon the sacrificing of her. Venus and Cupid make it their business. Nay he makes them use all their art to smother the good repute which common fame gave that Queen. This is the subject of Juno's complaint to Venus, which serves only to make a [Page 101] fuller discovery of the earnest sollicita­tion of those two Divinities to sur­prise, and, in the end, to seduce Dido;

The Characters of Sinon in the se­cond of the Aeneid, and that of Me­zentius, in the eighth and tenth, are also of the highest pitch of ac­complishment. Homer indeed has ma­ny more of that kind, and a greater variety of them: but those on which Virgil thought fit to bestow a particu­lar draught, are better prosecuted than those of Homer, and he has found the secret to express them with a grea­ter liveliness.

Yet must it be acknowledg'd that Homer has a better stor'd and more sumptuous stock of invention, and greater varieties; a more delicate and and divertive cast of versification; a [Page 102] more sparkling air of expressing things, nay a smarter and more peircing sound of words, more suitable to Poesy, and such as much more fills the ear; for the defect whereof ‖: Cicero found fault with Demosthenes: Vsque eò difficiles ac morosi sumus, ut nobis non satisfa­ciat ipse Demosthenes, non semper im­plet aures meas, ita sunt avidae & ca­paces, & semper aliquid immensum in­finitum (que) desiderant.

This indeed Homer has much beyond Virgil, and the eare is much more sa­tisfy'd with the currency, the harmo­ny, and the whole air of his versifica­tion; because the Greek Tongue has all those advantages over the Latine, which is more modest, more grave, and more serious. True it is also, that he has a greater extent of mat­ters, and affords his Readers a larger prospect; but his fancy ever and anon hurries him from one place to ano­ther; he is not so much master of it, as Virgil is of his.³³ Twas this defect [Page 103] that made him commit that so essen­tial an oversight of adding the two books of the Iliad after the close of the action; one, of the death of Hector the other, of the Games for that of Patro­clus; and one other after that of the Odyssey, which is the mutual dis­covery, of one to the other, of Vlys­ses and Penelope. For as every Poem, as well Epick as Dramatick, ought to take its period with the close of the principal action, so after the said close, which ought to put an end to things, a man cannot make any addition thereto, without committing an extravagance.

I find few passages in Homer, such as may be oppos'd to those of Virgil. Yet can I not forbear having a kind­ness for that of the sixt book of the Iliad, where Andromache, who was so honest and vertuous a woman, bids adieu to her Husband Hector, then going to his last combat with Achilles. In a word, tis impossible to imagine any thing of greater tenderness than that a???dieu, wherein that Princess, by [Page 104] a presentiment of something disastrous, let fall some tears, a thing she was not wont to do, for she was not sub­ject to any weakness, and the Poet saies delicately enough, that she began to lament with her women, the death of Hector, who was yet alive.

True it is, that in regard people do bewayl only dead persons, and that she bewayls a man that is alive, that expression is tender and well imagin'd; there are but few such in Homer; for though the expressions are still kept up in him, and are not ever neglect­ed, yet the things he saies do as it were lagg and languish. Of this rank is the numbring of the Graecian Fleet in the second of the Iliad: all there is at the same rate, and the squadrons are all for the most part terminated by one and the same Verse: ‘— [...].’ [Page 105] And all the banquets of the Iliad are serv'd up in the same fashion, with­out any variety.

Nay Vlysses's being known by his wife Penelope, in the 23. of the Odyssey, which was the most favourable passage in the world to set all the subtleties of art on work, has nothing but flat and simple surprises, cold and heavy a­stonishments, and very litle delicacy of sentiment and real tendernesse. Pe­nelope is too long obstinate, in oppos­ing the reasons they alledge to persuade her, that he is her husband, who con­tributes nothing himself to his own discovery; He suffers his wife to hearken too long to her distrust and circumspecti­on; the formalities she observes to be assur'd of all things, are there set down by tale and measure, least there might be any mistake, which methinks has somewhat that is mournfull and lan­guishing, in a place which requir'd so much fire and vivacity. Ought not the secret instinct of her Love to have in­spir'd her with other thoughts? And [Page 106] should not her heart have told her what her eies did not tell her? For Love is illuminated and inspir'd; he has a secret and mysterious voice, which explicates his meaning better than the senses. But Homer was not skill'd in that Philosophy, which the Italians have since so much taught; and Vir­gil, who makes Dido foresee the designe Aeneas had to forsake her, before she had notice brought her of it, would have made a better advantage of that occasion.

WE must not also dispute this ad­vantage with Homer; for this is so true, that Macrobius lib. 5. c. 6. of his Questions, saies that Homer has stuff'd his Poems with sentences, and that his pleasant sayings were quoted [Page 107] by the People as Proverbs. Homerus omnem Poesim suam ita sententiis farsit, ut singula ejus apophthegmata vicem pro­verbiorumin civium ore fungantur. And an English Author hath lately given us a considerable volume of sentences collected out of Homer, upon all the matters of Morality, which he has reduc'd into common places.

But I pretend with Heinsius. in his Poetical tract upon Aristotle, that those sententious reflections of Mora­lity are rather design'd for the Theatre, and of the Dramatick kind, than of the Heroick, the essential character whereof is Narration, which ought to be of a continued thread, and simple, without affectation of figures, and without all that tackle of reflections, which despoil a discourse of its natu­ral colour and force: a fault where­with that excellent Author of the Sa­tyricon does so earnestly reproach the declamators of his time, Inanibus sonis ludibria quaedam excitando effecistis, ut corpus Orationis enervaretur, & cade­ret. By gingling and rediculous discour­ses, [Page 108] you have enervated the body of the Oration, and brought it to the ground.

In a word, that force which some pretend ordinarlily to summe up in a small compasle of words to make up a sentence, is wont to exhaust, and extreamly weaken the rest of the dis­course, by depriving it of its natur­al simplicity, and giving it a forc'd aire. For this reason is Livy a much more accomplish'd Historian than Ta­citus, in regard he has lesse reflections, which are more proper for the Theatre, than for History, and Narration. ^‖ Cicero is also of that judgment in one of his Books of Rhetorick: Sententias in­terponi rarò convenit; ut rei actores, non vivendi praeceptores esse videamur. So that Sentences and morall reflections are a beauty not sit for the Epick Poem, in regard they are not suitable to Nar­ration, which is the principal and essentiall character thereof. Yet may the Poet bring in to it some sentences or reflections, when he makes the Actors [Page 109] speak whom he introduces; but he ought not to do it, when he speakes himself, unlesse it be very seldome; and then too it must not seem to have been sought for.

As to this we may safely imitate Livy who in the body of his History puts in very litle of that kind, but reserves it to be said by those whom he makes to speak. So that the Poet is to let them slip by, without affecting to be the utterer of them, much less to scatter and strew them up and down as Homer does: and it is a mistake for any to think to esteem him upon that account, inasmuch as that affectation is certainly an imperfection, which Virgil found out a way to avoid; reflecting that there was not any thing more opposite to that simple and continu'd air, which he professed to observe, than those glittering words and fancies, which seem Independent from the discourse, and jutting out of the structure, in regard they are not well proportion'd thereto, and serve only to magnify [Page 111] the Object, and make a noise; Rerum tumore & sententiarum vanissimo strepi­tu.

And this has some reference to that great precept of natural reason, for those who make it their business to write; which one of the most expert and sub­tle Criticks of all Antiquity gave here­tofore, and which is not sufficiently un­derstood: Curandum ne sententiae emi­neant extra corpus orationis expressae; sed intexto vestibus colore niteant: which passage I translate not, that all may be at liberty to render it, according to their several abilities. It suffices, as to what I pretend, that it appears, that Author, does in that place condemn the fancies which a too strong and too brisk expression, makes, in some sort, distinguishable from the body of the Discourse; he would have nothing o­ver exquisite, or too far???fetc'd, and that all the lustre be as natural to it, as colour is to garments. These sorts of simple and natural words, saith he, did natural reason dictate to Sophocles and Euripides, and which they saw it ne­cessary [Page 110] to use in speech, before men be­thought themselves of shutting up youth in Schools, and to limit all the exer­cises of the mind to pure Declamations. Nondum Juvenes declamationibus conti­nebantur, cum Sophocles & Euripides invenerunt verba quibus deberent loqui. In a word, all these ornaments of words and brisk fancies so far-fetc'd and so frequent, deprive the discourse of its natural beauty and true dignity: ^‖ Gra­vitas minuitur exornationibus frequen­ter collocatis, quod est in his lepos & festivitas, non dignitas ne (que) pulchritu­do, And this principal is general for all great things, whose grandeur attended by a regular simplicity, makes all the ex­cellence and dignity of them; as we see in Painting and Architecture, where great fancies are kept up much less by the multitude of ornaments, than by that simple and even, but regular air, which gives them their grandeur and Majesty.

INvention, one of the qualities most essential to the Poet, is one of the advantages of Homer wherein he de­serves preference before Virgil. For he is the Model, and original, which Virgil propos'd to himself. But it is to be observ'd, that as ^‖ Aristotle makes mention of a small Iliad, attributed by Suidas to one named Antimachus, which was the abbridgment of a great­er, upon which there is some likely­hood that Homer fram'd his work; so it may be conjectur'd thence, that the glory of the invention was not wholy due to him.

Besides, we read in ^‖ Athenaeus, that one Hegesianax had writ, in verse, before Homer, what had pass'd at the Siege [Page 113] of Troy. Cicero also makes mention of one Callisthenes, who had written up­on the same subject. Tis true that he liv'd in the time of Alexander, that is to say, some ages after Homer: but it is to be conceiv'd, that he had other col­lections different from those of Homer, since he gave a different account of that expedition, then he has done.

Suidas affirms, that one Corinnus, a Disciple of Palamedes, had also written an Iliad in Verse, about the time that Troy was taken: and that another Po­et, contemporary to Homer, named Sy­agrus▪ has also written upon that sub­ject: That all those works were sup­press'd by the endeavours of Homer, who was not so blind, (as some have imagin'd) as not to make it his business to trans­mit his own labours only to posterity, and so to be accounted the first Author of the Iliad. And as the others were his model, as he was that of Virgil, so it were to be wish'd, that we knew, whe­ther he has been as happy in the coppy­ing of others, as Virgil has been in imi­tating him.

[Page 114]But we are to make a great abatement of the esteem which all Antiquity hath had for Homer, if we credit what Aelian saies in his ^‖ History. He pretends, that the opinion of the Learned of his time was, that Homer had not compos'd the Iliad and Odyssey, but only by fragments, not proposing to himself any continu'd design; and that he had not given any other title to those diverse parts, which he had compos'd in the heat of his fancy & the impetuosity of his Genius, without any order, save only that of the subject and matter whereof he treated, as The va­lour and prowess of Agamemnon. The ex­ercises instituted for the funeral solemnity of Patroclus; The engagement neer the Ships, their Number; and so of the rest; That he had done the like for the Odyssey That Lycurgus was the first that brought from Jonia to Athens, those several parts, distinct one from the other, and without any connection; And that Pisistratus was the person who dispos'd them into some order, and, of them, made up the two Poems of the Iliad and the Odyssey, [Page 115] which we now have: And from thence, as some pretend, is derived the name of Rarpsodies, which hath since been given to those two Poems.

But I find in my self a backwardness to assent to this story; for it were to deprive Homer of his greatest glory, to take away from him the disposition of his Poems: That were a weakness, which I cannot allow that great man to be chargeable withal, especially conside­ring that Aristotle hath authorised the belief establish'd since in all ages, to wit, that he is the true Author of those Po­ems, though Josephus in his first book against Apion, seems to be of the same opinion with Aelian, and Plutarch, in the life of Lycurgus, and Cicero in his third book de Oratore, give some occa­sion to believe it. But this opinion would so highly contribute to the ab­solute destruction of Homers merit, that it were better to give Aelian the chara­cter of a collector of trivial stories. As for the other three, who countenance his sentiment, as they do not so peremp­torily [Page 116] stand upon the affirmative, so we may well adhere to the common opinion, and be favourable to the repu­tation of Homer, which, as to this point, is too strongly establish'd, to admit of any contest.

IT were to be further wish'd, in order to the fuller satisfaction we might derive from an exact comparison of these two great men, that a parallel should be made, between the beginings of the Iliad and Odyssey, and that of the Aeneid, which is the first touch towards the execution of those excellent Poems. For though the beginings of great works ought to be simple and modest, as ^‖ Cicero advises; Principia verecunda, non elatis intensa verbis, and that Horace so highly blames him who begins with so much pomp and ostentation ‘[Page 117]Fortunam Príami cantabo, &c.’ yet were it not amiss to to take a fair start, and to begin well. The begin­ning of the Iliad, as I translate it, runs thus. Sing, O my Muse, of the wrath of Achilles the son of Peleus, that wrath which prov'd so pernicious to his own party, by abundance of mis­fortunes which itbrought upon them; it occasion'd the death of many Heroes. He takes a pleasure in aggravating that wrath by its causes and effects; he ad­vances things with a too-confident, too violent, and too hyperbolical expressi­on, for a begining: ^‖ That wrath, saith he, made a bloody slaughter of the bodies of the Heroes. Thus Didimus, one of Homers most exact Interpreters expli­cates him. He does not reflect, that it is his Heroe, of whom he speaks, whose passion he aggravates, and that he seeks out extraordinary terms, to express the distraction it made in the Army whereof he was a great commander. [Page 118] He might have said things more in ge­neral, in a proposition which ought to be simple; there was no necessity of run­ning it over again, 'twas enough that he had call'd that passion pernicious; there is a certain affectation in the repetition of it so often; and he takes a pleasure in amplifying what he ought to have conceal'd, or at least alleviated. He pro­secutes things yet farther, saying, that that implacable wrath made the bodies of those Heroes a prey to all the dogs and birds. Nay so far was he possess'd by that spirit of exaggeration, that he im­poses upon him; for of that number of Heroes, whom the wrath of Achilles brought to destruction, we cannot in reason allow any to deserve that name but Patroclus; and I much question whe­ther there were many among those that perish'd who might deserve it, or had a good title thereto, A man should ne­ver descend to that particularity in a proposition intermixt with invocation; but what this Poet adds compleats his miscarriage, and makes an enormous contrariety; ‘[Page 119]— [...],’ 'Twas the will of Jupiter it should be so. He forgets that he is speaking to his Muse, which is a Divinity, that knows all things and ought not to have forgotten any thing of what it knowes: He takes occasi­on to inform it, that it was the will of God▪ that things should happen so. It was the part of Homers Muse to acquaint him with the secrets of the divine will, and what passes in the order of its De­crees, and not Homers to tell that to his Muse, the Daughter of Mnemosyne and Jupiter, that is to say, of the Under­standing and memory. It is yet much more strange in him to add those words to amplify the excess of the destruction, which that wrath had caused the Greeks, since it had oblig'd the Gods to concern themselves in the resentment of that pas­sion, and that it was their pleasure, it should occasion that destruction of all the people of good repute in that Ar­my. And it is to carry on the dreadful effects of that wrath to the utmost ex­tremities, to authorise by the will of [Page 120] the Gods, the defeat of the Grecian Army, whose loss was the accomplish­ment of the good pleasure of Jupiter, who has the character of shewing kind­ness. Upon that benignity his very name is grounded, which is the same as Juvans pater.

It would be a hard matter to tell where this invocation ends: the two subsequent verses are part of it, and it is confounded with the Narration, if we look narrowly upon it: besides, to say the truth, what construction soever be made of those words, we shall find a certain affectation in them: he has a mind to fall a moralizing too soon, when he does it at the very entrance of a work, which is not moral, and that at the fourth verse of it. The Readers mind is not yet prepar'd for reflections: it ought to have been instructed, pre­possess'd, and a little inflam'd before­hand.

The Exordium of the Odyssey is this, I know not whether it appear any thing [Page 121] more rational. Give me an account, O my Muse, of that subtle and expert man, who travell d through so many Countries, and cross'd so many Seas; He suffered much indeed; but still he was extreamly careful to preserve himself. He also took some care for the preservation and return of his companions: but he brought not one home, they all perished. An admira­ble Hero! whose essential character is to be subtle, crafty, and circumspect, yet the interpreters allay the signification of [...], to excuse Homer. Put I do not see what allay can be al­low'd it; besides that in the whole pro­secution of the story, the conduct of Vlysses bears no other quality in parti­cular then that of craft, which is many times manag'd by impostures and lies, which is in no wise Heroick; and Mi­nerva her self, however she may be fa­vourable to him, cannot forbear re­proaching him therewith.

And if it be urged that that craft is a dexterity and readiness of wit, why does he not make use of it for the safe­ty [Page 122] of his Companions, but imploy all his subtlety to preserve himself? But they all perished through their own fault. Ought not this Heroe, a person so wise, and of such extraordinary prudence, to have had conduct enough to secure them from that misfortune? Nay the very reason of their destruction is ri­diculous and fabulous; They were de­stroyed for their having eaten the Sunnes Oxen, This is a far-fetch'd destruction; the Heroe, or the Poet was willing to be rid of them; and if Vlysses's provi­dence had not been great enough to save his Companions who ran the same fortune with him, ought not the Poet at least to have dissembled it? Who ob­liges him to begin with that, and to ad­vance that weakness of his Heroe in the Frontispiece of his Poem, and the most obvious part of it, and to implore his Muse to celebrate the fame of that so subtle Heroe, who made a shift to save himself, and suffer'd all that were with him to be destroyed? Is there any thing in the world less Heroick, more weak and more despicable than this? Tasso, in [Page 123] the proposition of his Poem, makes a good advantage of that fault, for the accomplishment of his Hero, of whom he saies,

The beginning of the Aeneid is more simple and more natural, and its propo­sition is without any difficulty. I sing, saies Virgil, the arms and valour of that Man, who having retreated from the ru­ines of Troy, was the first that came into Italy. He had much to suffer, through the persecutions of the Gods, and the animosity of Juno. An enemy of that consequence renders him the more con­siderable. But after all that, he builds a great City, which is to be the seat of the Worlds Empire, and the Metropolis of the Vniverse. According to this model of comparison, all the rest may be compar'd at leisure.

I Leave it to the decision of the Learn­ed, what judgement ought to be made of both these admirable Poets, when they shall have taken the pains to inform themselves of the truth of these Observations, and have perti­cularly reflected, that all the Gramma­rians, who are the true Criticks of State having not been able to endure the lustre of Homers manner of expression, and the magnificence of his way of ver­sifying, which doubtless, is more brisk and glittering than that of Virgil, have suffer'd themselves to be dazled there­by, and without penetrating to the ground of both their works, have for the most part attributed the advan­tage to Homer. But they all judge of of them as Grammarians, without con­sidering the observations I have made.

[Page 125]Nay Plutarch himself, in a discourse expressly writ by him upon Homer, ex­patiates much upon his great Learning, and the universal knowledge he had of all the sciences; and he sufficiently de­notes the vast extent of that great Ge­nius by the Idea he gives of his chara­cter, without insisting upon what is es­sential to the Poem. Accordingly, all the learned, who fix their reflections upon the expression of Homer, and the exteriour part of his works, are not competent judges. To judge aright of them, they must take in the knowledg of what is essential, compute all the proportions thereof, consider whether the beauties are well plac'd therein, whether the intertexture of the pro­bable part with the miraculous, be therein judiciously observ'd, whether the licences, which poesy permits, be not over confident, or violent, whether all the decorums, as to manners and sentiments be therein exactly prosecu­ted, whether the expressions be smart & passionate, whether every thing keeps its proper rank, and bears its true [Page 126] character, whether soundness of sence and reason spread through the whole production, and whether things are all as they ought to be: for nothing can please, if it be not so, according to the great precept of Quintilian; Ni­hil potest placere quod non decet. In a word, they are to judge of these great works, as they would do of a Palace or sumptuous structure, whose chief beauty consists in the proportion there is between the design in general and its parts, and their mutual rapport: this is that which such as are well skill'd consider in them, without fixing their thoughts on the exteriour ornaments, which take up the survey of the igno­rant.

To conclude there is among the Cata­lects of the ancient Poets, the fragment of an Epigram of an uncertain Authors, which may contribute somewhat to the judgment, which ought tobe made of Homer and Virgil's Poems. This frag­ment saies, that the former is more am­ple, the latter more regular and com­pleat. [Page 127] Virgil himself is the Epigram­matist.

The lesser works are indeed ever more compleat than the great ones, in regard the Authors may bestow more time and leasure in the polishing and perfecting of them.

But in fine, to avoid being tedious by insisting on any further perticulars, which to do, we should be oblig'd to borrow matter from Eustathius, and Servius, the most eminent and exact commentators of those two great men; methinks, I may say, without deciding any thing, as I have always preten­ded, that, according to the obser­vations I have made, things may be thus divided: that Homer has more fancy, Virgil more discretion and judg­ment; [Page 128] and that if I should choose ra­ther to have been Homer, then Virgil, I should also much rather wish that I had writ the Aeneid, then the Iliad and Odyssey. In which I have the approbati­on of Propertius, as it appears by his suffrage, which he bestows on Virgil, in so disinteressed a manner, For though his reputation were much more establi­shed than that of Virgil, and though the jealousy of the mind, which is the true self-love, be incomparably greater than that of the heart, yet does he not stick to take off the Crown from his own head, to place it upon Virgils, and to acknowledge, that all ought to give him place, nay even Homer himself.