But who like thee can boast a foul fedate, So firmly proof to all the fhocks of fate? Thy force, like fteel, a temper'd hardness shows, 95 Soft moving fpeech, and pleafing outward show, depreciated the gifts of nature. He allows the quality of cou sage its utmost due, but defires the fame juftice to those softer accomplishments, which he lets him know are no lefs the favour of heaven. Then he removes from himself the charge of want of valour, by propofing the fingle combate with the very man he had just declin'd to engage; which having fhewn him void of any malevolence to his rival on the one hand, he now proves himself free from the imputation of cowardice on the other. Homer draws him (as we have seen) foft of fpeech, the natural quality of an amorous temper; vainly gay, in war as well as love; with a fpirit that can be furprized and recollected, that can receive impreffions of fhame or reprehenfion on the one fide, or of generofity and courage on the other; the ufual difpofition of eafy and courteous minds, which are moft fubje&t to the rule of faney and paffion. Upon the whole, this is no worse than the picture of a gentle Knight, and one might fanfy the heroes of the modern roauce were form'd upon the model of Paris. Then Then let a mid-way space our hofts divide, His be the fair, and his the treasure too. Thus may the Greeks review their native shore, Much fam'd for gen'rous fteeds, for beauty more. He faid. The challenge Hector heard with joy, IIO Then with his fpear reftrain'd the youth of Troy, Held by the midft, athwart; and near the foe Advanc'd with steps majestically flow. . 108. Much fam'd for gerous fteeds, for beauty more.] The original is, Agyῷ ἐς ἱππίβολον, κα Αχαΐδα καλλιγόνικα, Perhaps this line is tranflated too close to the letter, and the epithers might have been omitted. But there are fome traits and particularities of this nature, which methinks preserve to the reader the air of Homer. At least the latter of thefe circumftances, that Greece was eminent for beautiful women, feems not improper to be mention'd by him who had rais'd a war on the account of a Grecian Beauty. . 109. The challenge Hector heard with joy.] Hector ftays not to reply to his brother, but runs away with the challenge immediately. He looks upon all the Trojans as difgrac'd by the late flight of Paris, and thinks not a moment is to be loft to regain the honour of his country. The activity he fhews in all this affair wonderfully agrees with the spirit of a soldier. While round his dauntless head the Grecians pour 125 While from the centre Hector rolls his eyes Your fhining fwords within the sheath restrain, And pitch your lances in the yielding plain. . 123. Hear all ye Trojans, all ye Grecian bands.] It has been ask'd how the different nations could underftand one another in thefe conferences, fince we have no mention in Homer of any interpreter between them? He who was fo very particular in the moft minute points, can hardly be thought to have been negligent in this. Some reafons may be offer'd that they both fpoke the fame language; for the Trojans (as may be feen in Dion. Halis, lb. 1.) were of Grecian extraction originally. Dardanus the firft of their Kings was born in Arcadia; and even their names were generally Greek, as Hector, Anchiles, Androma he, Alyanax, &c. Of the laft of these in particular, Homer gives us a derivation which is purely Greek, in 1. 6. 03. But however it be, this is no more (as Dasier fomewhere oblerves) than the juft privilege of Poetry. Æneas and Tarnas unde ftand each other in Vng, and the language of the Poet is fu, pos'd to be univerfally intelligible, not only between different countries, but between earth and heaven itfelf. Here, 1 Here, in the midft, in either army's fight, Το . 135. Me too ye warriors hear, &c.] We may obferve what care Homer takes to give every one his proper character, and how this fpeech of Menelaus is adapted to the La orick; which the better to comprehend, we may remember there are in Homer three fpeakers of different characters, agreeable to the three different kinds of eloquence. These we may compare with each other in one inftance, fuppofing them all to ufe the fame heads, and in the fame order. The materials of the fpeech are, The manifefting his grief for the war, with the hopes that it is in his power to end it; an acceptance of the propos'd challenge; an account of the ceremonies to be us'd in the league; and a propofal of a proper caution to fecure it. Now had Netor thefe materials to work upon, he would probarly have begun with a relation of all the troubles of the nine year's fiege, which he hop'd he might now bring to an end; he would court their benevolence and good wishes for his profperty, with all the figures of amplication; while he accepted the challenge, he would have given an example to prove that the fingle combate was a wife, gallant, and gentle way of ending the war, pratis'd by their fathers: in the defeription of the rites he would be exceeding particular, and when he chose to demand the fan&tion of Priam rather than To me the labour of the field refign; Me Paris injur'd; all the war be mine. than of his fons, he would place in oppofition on one fide the fon's action which began the war, and on the other the impreffions of concern or repentance which it must by this time have made in the father's mind, whose wisdom he would undoubtedly extol as the effect of his age. All this he would have expatiated upon with connexions of the discourses in the most evident manner, and the moft eafy, gliding, undifobliging tranfitions. The effect would be, that the people would hear him with pleasure. Had it been Vlyffes who was to make the speech, he would have mention'd a few of their most affecting calamities in a pathetick air; then have undertaken the fight with testifying fuch a chearful joy, as fhould have won the hearts of the fol diers to follow him to the field without being defir'd. He would have been exceeding cautious in wording the conditions; and folemn, rather than particular, in speaking of the rites, which he would only infift on as an opportunity to exhort both fides to a fear of the Gods, and a strict regard of juftice. He would have remonftrated the use of sending for Priam; and (because no caution could be too much) have demanded his fons to be bound with him. For a conclufion he would have us'd some noble fentiment agreeable to a heroe, and (it may be) have enforc'd it with fome infpirited action. In all this you would have known that the difcourfe hung together, but its fire would not always fuffer it to be feen in cooler transitions, which (when they are too nicely laid open) may conduct the reader, but never carry him away. The people would hear him with emotion. Thefe materials being given to Menelaus, he but just mentions their troubles, and his fatisfaction in the prospect of ending them, fhortens the propofals, fays a facrifice is neceffary, requires Priam's prefence to confirm the conditions, refufes his fons with a refentment of that injury he suffer'd by them, and concludes with a reafon for his choice from the praife of age, with a fhort gravity, and the air of an apophthegm. This he puts in order without any more tranfition than what a fingle conjunction affords. And the effect of the difcourfe is, that the people are inftructed by it in what is to be done. Fall |