98

Not so Atrides; he, with kingly pride,
Repuls'd the sacred Sire, and thus reply'd.

He said, the Greeks their joint assent declare,
The father said, the gen'rous Greeks relent,
T' accept the ransom, and restore the fair:
Revere the priest, and speak their joint assent:
Not so the tyrant; he, with kingly pride,

Atrides,

Repuls'd the sacred Sire, and thus defy'd.'

[Not so the tyrant. DRYDEN.]

Of these lines, and of the whole first book, I am told that there was yet a former copy, more varied, and more deformed with interlineations.

The beginning of the second book varies very little from the printed page, and is therefore set down without any parallel : the few slight differences do not require to be elaborately displayed.

'Now pleasing sleep had seal'd each mortal eye;
Stretch'd in the tents the Grecian leaders lye;
Th' Immortals slumber'd on their thrones above,
All but the ever-wakeful eye of Jove.

To honour Thetis' son he bends his care,
And plunge the Greeks in all the woes of war.
Then bids an empty phantom rise to sight,
And thus commands the vision of the night:

directs

Fly hence, delusive dream, and, light as air,
To Agamemnon's royal tent repair;

Bid him in arms draw forth th' embattled train,
March all his legions to the dusty plain.

Now tell the King 'tis giv'n him to destroy

Declare ev'n now

The lofty walls of wide-extended Troy;

tow'rs

For now no more the Gods with Fate contend;
At Juno's suit the heav'nly factions end.

Destruction hovers o'er yon devoted wall,

hangs

And nodding Ilion waits th' impending fall.'

Invocation to the Catalogue of Ships.

'Say, Virgins, seated round the throne divine,
All-knowing Goddesses! immortal Nine!

Since earth's wide regions, heav'n's unmeasur'd height,
And hell's abyss, hide nothing from your sight,

(We, wretched mortals! lost in doubts below,
But guess by rumour, and but boast we know)
Oh say what heroes, fir'd by thirst of fame,
Or urg'd by wrongs, to Troy's destruction came!
To count them all, demands a thousand tongues,
A throat of brass and adamantine lungs.

Now, Virgin Goddesses, immortal Nine!

That round Olympus' heavenly summit shine1,
Who see through heav'n and earth, and hell profound,
And all things know, and all things can resound;
Relate what armies sought the Trojan land,
What nations follow'd, and what chiefs command;
(For doubtful Fame distracts mankind below,
And nothing can we tell, and nothing know)
Without your aid, to count th' unnumber'd train,
A thousand mouths, a thousand tongues were vain 2.'

Book V. v. 1.

'But Pallas now Tydides' soul inspires,

Fills with her force, and warms with all her fires:
Above the Greeks his deathless fame to raise,
And crown her hero with distinguish'd praise.
High on his helm celestial lightnings play,
His beamy shield emits a living ray;

Th' unweary'd blaze incessant streams supplies,
Like the red star that fires th' autumnal skies.

But Pallas now Tydides' soul inspires,

Fills with her rage, and warms with all her fires;
force,

O'er all decrees his glorious fame to raise,
Above the Greeks her warrior's fame to raise,
his deathless

And crown her hero with immortal praise:

High on his helm celestial lightnings play,
From his broad buckler flash'd the living ray,
His beamy shield emits a living ray.

The Goddess with her breath the flame supplies,
Her breath divine thick streaming flames supplies,
Bright as the star whose fires in Autumn rise;
Bright as the star that fires th' autumnal skies 3.

[This line is cancelled and over it written :-'Who high above possess your seats divine.']

[The last six lines are cancelled, and 'We, wretched mortals!' &c., as

in the 1st ed. of Pope's Iliad, written in the copy.]

[3 The last two lines of this passage as printed in the Lives are omitted. They are not in the MS.]

When fresh he rears his radiant orb to sight,
And bath'd in ocean shoots a keener light.
Such glories Pallas on the chief bestow'd,
Such from his arms the fierce effulgence flow'd;
Onward she drives him furious to engage,

Where the fight burns, and where the thickest rage.

Fresh from the deep, and gilds the seas and skies.
When fresh he rears his radiant orb to sight,
And gilds old Ocean with a blaze of light.
Such glories Pallas on her chief bestow'd,

the

Such sparkling rays from his bright armour flow'd,
Onward she drives him headlong to engage,

furious

Where the war bleeds, and where the fiercest rage.
fight burns,
thickest

The sons of Dares first the combat sought,
A wealthy priest, but rich without a fault;
In Vulcan's fane the father's days were led,
The sons to toils of glorious battel bred;

There liv'd a Trojan, Dares was his name,
The priest of Vulcan, rich, yet void of blame;
The sons of Dares first the combat sought,
A wealthy priest, but rich without a fault.'

Conclusion of Book VIII. v. 687.

'As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,
O'er heav'n's clear azure sheds her sacred light;
When not a breath disturbs the deep serene,
And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene;
Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole:
O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed,
And tip with silver ev'ry mountain's head;
Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies;
The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight,
Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light.
So many flames before proud Ilion blaze,
And lighten glimm'ring Xanthus with their rays;
The long reflections of the distant fires
Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires:
A thousand piles the dusky horrors gild,
And shoot a shady lustre o'er the field;
Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend,

Whose umber'd arms by fits thick flashes send;
Loud neigh the coursers o'er their heaps of corn,
And ardent warriors wait the rising morn.

As when in stillness of the silent night,
As when the moon in all her lustre bright,
As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,
O'er heav'n's clear azure sheds her silver light;
sacred

pure

As still in air the trembling lustre stood,
And o'er its golden border shoots a flood;
When no loose gale disturbs the deep serene,
not a breath

And no dim cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene;

not a

Around her silver throne the planets glow,
Around her throne the [golden] vivid planets roll,
And stars unnumber'd trembling beams bestow;
And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole:
Clear gleams of light o'er the dark trees are seen,

o'er the dark trees a yellow sheds,
O'er the dark trees a yellower gleam they shed,

green

And tip with silver all the forest's heads:
mountain's

And tip with silver ev'ry mountain's head.
The vallies open, and the forests rise,
The vales appear, the rocks in prospect rise,
Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,
All Nature stands reveal'd before our eyes;
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies.
The conscious shepherd, joyful at the sight,
Eyes the blue vault, and numbers ev'ry light.
The conscious swains, rejoicing at the sight,
shepherds, gazing with delight,
Eye the blue vault, and bless the vivid light.

glorious
useful

So many flames before the navy blaze,
proud Ilion

And lighten glimm'ring Xanthus with their rays,
Wide d'er the fields to Troy extend the gleams,
And tip the distant spires with fainter beams;
The long reflections of the distant fires

Gild the high walls, and tremble on the spires,
Gleam on the walls, and gild the glittring spires;
A thousand fires at distant stations bright,
Gild the dark prospect, and dispel the night.

Of these specimens every man who has cultivated poetry, or 99 who delights to trace the mind from the rudeness of its first con

100

ceptions to the elegance of its last, will naturally desire a greater number; but most other readers are already tired, and I am not writing only to poets and philosophers 1.

The Iliad was published volume by volume, as the translation proceeded; the four first books appeared in 17152. The expectation of this work was undoubtedly high, and every man who had connected his name with criticism, or poetry, was desirous of such intelligence as might enable him to talk upon the popular topick. Halifax, who, by having been first a poet, and then a patron of poetry, had acquired the right of being a judge3, was willing to hear some books while they were yet unpublished. Of this rehearsal Pope afterwards gave the following account *:

'The famous Lord Halifax was rather a pretender to taste than really possessed of it. When I had finished the two or three first books of my translation of the Iliad, that Lord desired to have the pleasure of hearing them read at his house.-Addison, Congreve 5, and Garth, were there at the reading. In four or five places, Lord Halifax stopt me very civilly, and with a speech each time, much of the same kind, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Pope; but there is something in that passage that does not quite please me. Be so good as to mark the place, and consider it a little [more] at your leisure. I'm sure you can give it a little [better] turn." I returned from Lord Halifax's with Dr. Garth, in his chariot; and, as we were going along, was saying to the Doctor, that my Lord had laid me under a good deal of difficulty by such loose and general observations; that I had been thinking over the passages almost ever since, and could not guess at what it was that offended his Lordship in either of them. Garth laughed heartily at my embarrassment; said, I had not been long enough acquainted with Lord Halifax to know his way yet; that I need not puzzle myself about looking those places over and over, when I got home. "All you need do (says he) is to leave them just as they are; call on Lord Halifax two or three months hence, thank him for his kind observations on those passages, and then read

I 'When I was looking on his foul
copy of the Iliad, and observing how
very much it was corrected and inter-
lined, he said, "I believe you would
find upon examination that those
parts which have been the most cor-
rected read the easiest." Spence's
Anec. p. 265.

2 Ante, PRIOR, 38 n. 3.
3 Ante, HALIFAX, II.

4 Spence's Anec. p. 134. Spence
says in a note:- This is lengthened

from the short hints in the first memorandum paper.' 'Had this story rested on any other authority [than Pope's] I should have suspected it to have been borrowed from one of Poggio's Tales-De Jannoto Vicecomite.' JAMES BOSWELL, JUN., Johnson's Works, viii. 264 n. Pope's authority is worthless.

5 To Congreve Pope dedicated the Iliad. Post, POPE, 271.