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Yet furious still, Parthenopaus flies; Him step by step impatient Idas plies, And pants aloud, with vengeance in his eyes; Now hanging o'er, his hov'ing shade is seen, That lengthens still, and floats along the green: And sudden now, by unperceiv'd degrees Full on his neck he blows the sultry breeze. Next Phædimus and aged Dymes past Along the circus, Alcon came the last.

As the fair offspring of the sylvan Grace With matchless swiftness speeds along the race, His golden tresses wav'd in curls, behind Flow loosely down, and dance upon the wind: (These from a child with pious hopes he bore, Sacred to her who treads the Delian shore 4; What time from Thebe's distant plains he came Renown'd for conquests of immortal fame: Too fondly pious! in a Theban uru Son must thou sleep, ah, never to return!) These vengeful Idas saw with ardent eyes: Resolv'd by force or fraud t'obtain the prize; Sudden he stretch'd his impious arm, and drew Supine on earth the stripling, as he flew :

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First two Achaians round the labour came, With ardent Phlegyas, candidates for fame: An Acarnanian next accepts the toil, And three brave chieftains from Ephyre's soil, With numbers more-but eager of renown, Sudden Hippomedon flings thund'ring down A disk of double weight; amaz'd they stand; The vast orb rings, and shakes the trembling land. [nown'd, "Warriors" (he cries) "in fighting fields reWhose arms must strike Thebe's bulwarks to the ground:

On tasks like these your mighty prowess try :"

Then starting reach'd the goal, and claim'd the Boastful he spoke, and whirl'd it up the sky.

prize.

Arms! arms aloud th' Arcadian nation cries:
Vengeance at once they vow, or else prepare
To leave the Circus and renounce the war.
Tumultuous murmurs echo thro' the crowd,
Those praise the fraud, and these detest aloud.
Slow-rising from the plains the youth appears,
His eyes half angry, and half drown'd with tears,
He bends his head, the tears in silence flow;
A mournful image, beautiful in woe!
Now beats his bosom, frantic with despair;
And rends the ringlets of his golden hair.
A busy murmur deafens ev'ry ear,
Nor yet the crowd the royal judgment hear.
At last Adrastus rose with awful grace,
And thus bespoke the rivals in the race.

Amaz'd each chief the wond'rous cast admires, And conscious of th' event betimes retires. Pisaan Phlegyas only keeps the field, With great Menestheus, yet untaught to yield: Brave warriors each, too noble to disgrace By one mean act the glories of their race. The rest inglorious leave the listed ground, And tremble to survey th' enormous round.

First Phlegyas rose the mighty toil to try: Dumb was each voice, attentive ev'ry eye; He rolls the quoit in dust with prudent care, And poises oft, and marks its course in air. Ev'n from a child, (where old Alpheus leads His mazy stream through Pisa's lowly meads) Not only when with mighty chiefs he strove At sacred games to please Olympian Jove :

"Cease, gen'rous youths! once more your Thus with full force the massy weight he threw

fortunes try,

In sep'rate paths, each starting from the eye."
So spake the king: and sudden from the view,
In sep'rate paths the ready racers flew.
But first th' Arcadian youth with lifted eyes
Thus sent his soul in whispers to the skies.
"Queen of the silver bow, and wood-land
glades;
[shades;
The Heav'ns fair light, and empress of the
Sacred to thee alone, with decent care

I nurs'd these curls of long-descending hair:
At thy desires I fell; yet hear my pray'r!
If e'er my mother pleas'd thee in the chase,
If e'er I pleas'd thee-banish my disgrace;
Nor let these omens prophesy my fall
(As sure they must) beneath the Theban wall!"
So pray'd the youth. The goddess heard his
pray'r,

Rapid he shot along, half pois'd in air:
Fast and more fast the flying fields withdrew;
Scarce rose the dust beneath him as he flew.
Shouting, he reach'd the goal: with transport
fir'd,

Soon sought Adrastus, and his right requir'd.
Panting and pale he seiz'd the palm. At hand
To close the game the ready prizes stand.

VOL. XVI.

♦ Diana.

Far o'er the stream, half shaded, as it flew.
At first he marks the skies and distant plain,
Then summons all his strength from ev'ry vein.
Couch'd on his knees the pond'rous orb he swung
High o'er his head, along the air it sung.
Now wasting by degrees, with hollow sound
Fell heavily, and sunk beneath the ground.

Fond of his art and strength in days of yore, Well-pleas'd he stands, and waits th' event once

more.

Loud shout the Greeks, and dwell on Phlegyas'

praise.

Hippomedon with scorn the chief surveys.
Some nobler arm the pond'rous orb must throw
With care, directly in a line below.

But fortune soon his mighty hopes withstood,
Fortune still envious to the brave or good!
Alas, can man confront the pow'rs on high?
While distant fields are measur'd in his eye,
Just when his arm he stretch'd at full extent,
Couch'd on one knee, his side obliquely bent;
Struck by some force unseen, th' enormous round
Dropt from his hand, and idly prints the ground.
Much griev'd the pitying host, yet griev'd not all;
Some inly smil'd to see the discus fall.

Next, sage Menestheus stands prepared to

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Intent of mind he marks its airy way,
And much implores the progeny of May.
Well-aim'd it flew half o'er the cirque; at last
Heavy it fell. An arrow mark'd the cast.

Slow rose Hippomedon, and e'er he rose
Much weigh'd the fate and fortune of his foes.
He pois'd, and rear'd the mighty orb on high;
Swung round his arm, and whirl'd it thro' the
sky,

Forth-springing with the cast. Aloft it sung
Far o'er the mark where er'st Menestheus flung:
And o'er those hills with grassy verdure crown'd,
Whose airy summits shade the circus round-
There sunk, and sinking shook the trembling
ground.

So Polyphemus, more than mortal strong, Hurl'd a huge rock to crush th' Ulyssean throng: Blind as he was, the vengeful weight he threw, The vessel trembled, and the waters flew.

Soon good Adrastus rises, to repay
With sumptuous gifts the labours of the fray.
Safe for Hippomedon apart was roll'd

A tiger's skin, the paws o'erwrought with gold.
His Gnossian bows and darts Menestheus took;
Then thus to Phlegyas with a mournful look
He said. "This sword, unhappy chief, re-
ceive;

(A boon so just Hippomedon might give:)
This sword which once immortal honours gain'd,
Which sav'd Pelasgus, and his pow'r maintain`d,”
A warlike toil Adrastus next demands,
In iron gloves to sheath their hardy hands:
First Capaneus prepar'd for combat stands;
A mighty giant, large, and tow'ring high,
Dreadful in tight, and hideous to the eye.
Around his wrists the hard bull-hides he binds,
And vaunts his strength, and deals his blows in
winds:
[there be,
"Stand forth some chief," he cries," (if such
Who dares oppose an enemy like me!)
Yet might some Theban sink beneath iny blow;
Glorious and sweet is vengeance on a foe."

So spake the chief. Half-trembling with amaze,
In speechless horrour all the circle gaze.
At last Aleidimas, with gen'rous ire
Sprung forth, unask'd. The Doric bands admire.
All but his friends. They knew the daily care
Which Pollux us'd, to train him to the war.
(He taught him first to bind the gauntlets round
His nervous wrists, and aim the crashing wound:
Oppos'd in fight, he heav'd him high, or prest
The youth loud-pant.ng on his naked breast.)

Him Capaneus survey'd with scornful eyes, Insults his years, and claims a nobler prize. Provok❜d, he turns to fight. Each warrior stands At full extent, and lifts his iron hands. [round, Well-temper'd casques their hardy brows surTo break at least the fury of the wound. This towr'd like Tytius on the Stygian shore, When the fierce vultures cease to drink his gore: So high in air his spreading shoulders rise, So swell his muscles, and so flame his eyes; That at his side in blooming youth appears, Yet promis'd wonders from maturer years: The favours of the crowd alike succeed On either side: none wish'd the chiefs to bleed. Low'ring at first they met, nor silence broke, Each lifts his arm, and only aims the stroke. Soine moments thus they gaz'd in wild surprise, A hasty fury sparkled in their eyes;

Now conscious fear succeeds. The chiefs essay
Their arms, and slowly first provoke the fray.
This on nice art and diffidence relies,
That on mere courage and stupendous size;
Void of all fear, and without conduct brave,
He wastes that strength himself has pow'r to

save:

Still blindly drives where fury leads the way,
And storms, and falls the victor and the prey.
With stedfast glances this surveys his foe,
And either shuns, or wards th' impending blow:
Now lowly bends (his elbow o'er him spread)
The stroke impetuous sings above his head.
Now nearer draws, the more he seems to fly;
So much his motion varies from his eye!
Now with full force he aims a pond'rous blow,
And tow'ring high o'ershades his mighty foe.
Thus in some storm the broken billows rise
Round the vast rock, and thunder to the skies.
Once more with wary footsteps wheeling
round,

Full on his front he deals a mortal wound:
Crashing it falls-unfelt the trickling blood
Spreads o'er his helmet in a crimson flood.
A sudden whisper murmurs round; alone
To Capaneus the cause remains unknown.
At last he lifts his hand on high, the gore
Forth-welling fast distains his cæstus o'er.
Grief swells his heart, and vengeance and dis-
dain-

So foams the lion, monarch of the plain,
And loudly roaring with indignant pride,
Gnaws the barb'd jav'lin griding in his side:
Now springs with rage; supine along the ground
Pants the bold youth whose hand infix'd the

wound.

Fast and more fast his lifted arms he throws Around his head, and doubles blows on blows. Part waste in air, part on the cæstus fall With mighty force; his foe returns 'em all. Still seems to fear him with dissembling eyes, Yet still persists, and combats, while he flies. Panting they reel; the youth retreats more slow, The weary giant scarcely aims a blow, They sink at once-so sailors on the main Who long have toil'd through adverse waves in vain, [more, All drop their hands. The signal sounds once Again they start, and stretch the lab'ring oar.

Thus rose the chiefs, with recollected might
Rush'd Capaneus like thunder to the fight.
Low bends Alcidimas with watchful eyes:
Short of his aim the giant o'er him flies;
Up starts the youth, and as he stagger'd round,
Clasp'd firm his neck, and bow'd him to the
ground.

As rising from th' inglorious plain contends
Fierce Capaneus, a second blow descends
Full on his head: beneath the stroke he bent;
The youth turn'd pale, and trembled at th'

event.

Loud shout the Greeks: the shore and forest

rings.

Then thus in haste exclaims the king of kings (As from the ground the furious Argive rose, And vow'd, and aim'd intolerable blows): "Seize him, ye chiefs, his bloody hands restrain, Give all the palm, but lead him from the plain. Haste, see, he raves! ah, tear him from my eyes, He lives, he rises, the Laconian dics!"

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He said. Hippomedon, and Tydeus rose ! Scarce both their hands restrain his mighty

blows.

[give: Then thus they spoke. "The prize is thine, for'Tis double fame to bid the vanquish'd live ; A friend, and our ally"-he storms the more, Rejects the prize, and thus devoutly swore: "By all this blood, at present my disgrace, These hands shall crush that more than female face; [plain"These hands shall dash him headlong to the To Pollux then he weeps, but weeps in vain. He said. By force they turn'd his steps away. Stubborn he still persists, nor yields the day. Far off in secret, the Laconian host Smile at his fury, and their hero boast.

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Mean while with conscious virtue Tydeus
burns,

Renown and praise inflame his heart by turns:`
Swift in the race he still the guerdon bore,
Now toss'd the discus, now the gauntlets wore;
But most for Pales' active arts renown'd,
To hurl his foe supine along the ground.
By Hermes tutor'd, on th' Etolian plain,
He made whole nations bite the dust in vain.
Full terrible he look'd. For arms he wore
The savage trophies of a mountain-boar,
Once Calydonia's dread! the bristly hide [pride.
Broad o'er his shoulders hung, with barb'rous
Unbound, he flings it down, then waits his
foes.

Besides him, tow'ring, huge Agylleus rose,
A monstrous giant, dreadful to mankind;
Yet weak he seem'd, his limbs were loosely
join'd.

Low Tydeus was. What Nature there deny'd,
Strong nerves, and mighty courage well supply'd;
For Nature never since the world began
Lodg'd such a spirit in so small a man!

Soon as their shining limbs are bath'd in oil, Down rush the heroes to the wrestling toil. Deform'd with dust (their arms at distance spread)

Each on his shoulder half reclines his head.

Now bending 'till he almost touch'd the plain, Tydeus the giant heav'd, but heav'd in vain.

The mountain-cypress thus, that firmly stood From age to age, the empress of the wood, By some strong whirlwind's sudden blast declin'd, Bends arching down, and nods before the wind: The deep roots tremble till the gust blows o'er, And then she rises, stately as before.

So vast Agylleus scarcely mov'd below,
Hangs imminent upon th' Etolian foe.
Breast, shoulders, thighs, with mighty strokes
resound,

And all appears an undistinguish'd wound.
On tiptoe rais'd, their heads obliquely bent,
Each hangs on each, stretch'd out at full ex-

tent.

Not half so bloody, or with half such rage, Two furious monarchs of the herd engage. Apart the inilk-white heifer views the fight, And waits to crown the victor with delight. Their chests they gore, the mighty shock resounds; [wounds. Love swells their hate, and heals the gaping So shaggy bears in strict embraces roll, And from each corse squeeze forth th' unwilling soul.

Thus Tydens storm'd; nor heats nor toils asswage

His furious strength, or mitigate his rage.
Agylleus pants aloud, nor scarce contends;
Black'ned with dust a stream of sweat descends.
Tydeus press'd on, and seem'd to aim a blow
Full at his neck: the force was meant below,
Where well-knit nerves the knees firm strength
supply;

Short of their reach, his hands the blow deny.
He sinks; o'er him, like some vast mountain fell
Agylleus, and half squeez'd his soul to Hell.
So when th' Iberian swain in search of ore
Descends, and views the light of Heav'n no more:
If some strong earthquake rocks the mould'ring
ground,

(High o'er him hung) down rush the ruins round,
Deep under earth his batter'd carcase lies,
Nor breathes its spirit to congenial skies.
Full of disdain Etolian Tydeus rose;
No peace, no bounds his fierce rescn'ment
knows :
[wi id,
Swift from th' inglorious hold he springs like
And circles round, then firmly fix'd behind.
His hand embrac'd his side, his knees surround
The giant's knees, and bend 'em to the ground.

Nought boots resistance now. Agylleus makes One more essay. That moment Tydeus takes, And rears him high. The mingling shouts arise, And loud applause runs rattling thro' the skies.

So Hercules, who long had toil'd in vain, Heav'd huge Antheus from the Lybian plain; Erect in air th' expiring savage hung, Nor touch'd the kindred earth, from whence he

sprung.

Long Tydeus held him thus. At length he found The point of time, and hurl'd him to the ground

Side-long-Himself upon the giant lies,
And grasps his neck, and firmly locks his thighs.

Prone o'er th' inglorious dust, Agylleus quakeş Half-dead: his shame alone resistance makes: Then rose at last, and stagg'ring thro' the. throng,

Slowly he trail'd his feeble legs along.

When Tydeus thus. (His nobler hand sustain'd The palm, his left the warlike gifts he gain'd:) "What though my blood o'erflow'd yon guilty [round;

ground,

When singly arm'd, whole numbers press'd me
(So prov'd all contracts with the Theban name,
Their honour such) yet Tydeus lives the same."
He spoke, and speaking sent the prize away;
Aside, a breast-plate for the vanquish'd lay.

Others in arms their manly limbs enclose;
To combat Epidaurian Agreus rose :
Him with his shining blade the Theban waits,
An exile still by unrelenting fates.

Thenthus Adrastus. "Gen'rous youths give o'er;
Preserve all rage: and thirst for hostile gore.
Ye gods! what slaughter and what combats call!
Then waste your fury, Thebes demands it all.
But you, O prince! a kinsman, and our friend,
Whose cause such numbers with their lives defend;
For whom, our native towns, and countries lay
Unpeopled half, to other foes a prey;
Trust not th' event of fight; nor bleed, to please
Th' inhuman hopes of base Etheocles.
Avert it Heav'n!" The ready chiefs obey'd:
Their brave attempt a glitt'ring helm repaid.

Howe'er in sign of conquest and renown,
He bids the warriors Polynices crown
With wreaths, and bail him victor-no portent,
(So will'd the Sisters) prophesy'd th' event.

Him too the chiefs with kind persuasions pray
To rise, and close the honours of the day:
(And lest one victory be lost) to throw
The missile lance, or bend the Lycian bow.
Well-pleas'd Adrastus to the plain descends
In pomp, his steps a youthful crowd attends.
Behind, a squire the royal quiver bore,
Deep fill'd with shafts, a formidable store.
'Tis plain (Shall man deny ?) each human

cause

Proceeds, unseen, from Heav'n's eternal laws.
- All fate appear'd: the chiefs perversely blind
Neglect the sign, nor see th' event behind.
We deem from chance unerring omens flow;
While fate draws near, and aims a surer blow.
By this the monarch strain'd the bending yew:
Full on its mark the feather'd weapon flew,
Nor enter'd there. The impassive ash resounds:
Again with double force the shaft rebounds,
In the same line wing'd back its airy way,
Then prone on earth before Adrastus lay.

Each reasons, as his wayward thoughts decree;
These think the shaft rebounded from the tree;
And those, that winds with unresisted force
Drove clouds on clouds, to intercept its course.
Mean while th' event and dreadful omen lies
Deep wrapt in night, nor seen by human eyes.
One chief in safety must return alone,
Through woes, and blood, and dangers yet un-
known.

NOTES

UPON THE

SIXTH THEBAID OF STATIUS.

NOTE 1.

Mr. Dryden, in his excellent preface to the Eneid, takes occasion to quarrel with Statius, and calls the present, book an ill-timed, and injudicious episode. I wonder so severe a remark could pass from that gentleman, who was an admirer of our author even to superstition. I own I can scarce forgive myself, to contradict so great a poet, and so good a critic; talium enim virorum ut admiratio maxima, ita censura difficilis. However the present case may admit of very alleviating circumstances. It may be replied in general, that the design of this book was to give a respite to the main action, introducing a mournful, but pleasing variation from terrour to pity. It is also highly probable, that Statius had an eye to the funeral obsequies of Polydore, and Anchises, mentioned in the 3d and 5th books of Virgil. We may also look upon them as a prelude, opening the mind by degrees to receive the miseries and horrour of a future war. This is intimated in some measure by the derivation of the word

Archemorus.

a fine opportunity of remarking upon chief of Besides the reasons above mentioned, we have the heroes who must make a figure hereafter; this is represented to the eye in a lively sketch that distributes to each person his proper lights, with great advantage.

It must certainly be an infinite pleasure to peruse the most ancient piece of history now extant, excepting that in holy scripture. This remark must be understood of the action of the Thebaid only, which Statius, without question, faithfully recited from the most authentic chronicles in his own age. The action of the Iliad and Odyssey happened several years after. This is evident from Homer's own words. Agamemnon, in the 4th Iliad, recites with great transport the expedition of Tydeus: and Ulysses mentions the story of Jocasta (or Epicaste, as he calls her) in a very particular manner. It is in his descent

to Hell, Odyssey the eleventh:
Μητέρα δ' Οιδιπόδαο ἴδον, καλὴν Επικάςην,
Η μέγα ἔργον ἔρεξεν ἀνδρεςήσι νόειο,
Γημαμένη ᾧ ὑει. ὁ δ ̓ ἦν παλές ̓ ἐξαναρίξας
Fr.

Αλλ' ὁ μεν ἐν Θήβῃ πολυηράτω ἄλια πάχων
Καδμείων ἤνασσε, θεῶν ὀλοὺς διὰ βελάς,
Ἡ δ ἔβη εις αίδαο πυλάξας κρατεροίο
Ὧι ἄχει χομένη, τῳ δ ̓ ἄλεα κάλλιπ ̓ ὀπίσσω
Πολλὰ μάλ', ὅσσα τὲ μητρὸς ἐρίννυες ετελέυσιο

3.

The antiquity of the Thebaid may be considered also in another view. As the poet was obliged to conform the manners of his heroes to the time of action, we in justice ought not to be so much shock'd with those insults over the dead which run through all the battles. This softens a little the barbarity of Tydeus, who expired gnawing the head of his enemy; and the impiety of Capaneus, who was thunderstruck while he blasphemed Jupiter. Whoever reads the books of Joshua and Judges will find about those times the same savage spirit of insolence and fiertè.

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of the Nemeæan games.
I beg to be excused from giving a long account
What the world calls
learning, differs very little from pedantry; and
I am sensible many an honest man may deserve
that imputation when he means no manner of
harm: so much harder 'tis to conceal knowledge,
than first get it. The best and most ancient
information now extant is to be collected from
take notice of a funeral oration spoken in honour
Pindar's odes in general. However I must just
of Archemorus, as it is mentioned by Clemens
Alexandrinus, in his admonit. ad Gentes.

5.

The youthful sailors thus with early care
Their arms experience- v. 23.

'Tis worth while here to take notice of Statius's similies in general. They are sometimes proper, but not often: a common fault with most young authors, who can reject nothing; though himself with a metaphor. I am apt to think a more judicious writer at the same time would either suppress the thought, or at most content

similies must seldom be used, except they convey to the mind some very pleasing, or strong piece of painting. For all similies are descrip

tions (or pictures) whose only beauty proceeds | from an excellence in the imagery. In these cases, painting must always be consulted.

He mixes with the bleating lambs his cries;
While the rude swain his rural music tries,
To call soft slumbers on his infant eyes.
pa-Yet ev'n in those obscure abodes to live,
Was more, alas! than cruel fate would give!
For on the grassy verdure as he lay
And breath'd the freshness of the rising day;
Devouring dogs the helpless infant tore,
Fed on his trembling limbs, and lapt the gore.

Another oversight in Statius is want of rity in the circumstances: but this is owing to the irregularity of his genius, which was above insisting upon particulars, and gave only some bold strokes of likeness.

If a translator can leave out such similies (or other passages) in Statius as are not proper, without violating the context or if he can supply any of their defects in a very short compass, I think he ought. Though these liberties are not to be taken with more correct writers.

6.

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I scarce ever met with a more incoherent passage than this, in any author. The sense is fine,

Swift from mankind the Pow'r of slumbers and easily apprehended by the context: the

flew. v. 31.

This place is not translated exactly to the letter, nor indeed would our language bear it. The original is extremely poetical, and correspondent to the best paintings in those times:

-cornu fugiebat somnus inani.

For Somnus (or sleep) was represented as a deity pouring dews out of a horn, over the temples of the sleeping person. Statius alludes to this in another passage, upon the same occasion;

-cornu perfuderat omui.

This remark I owe to Lactantius, who has given us the only tolerable comment upon Statius. Care has been taken to read him entirely over, though to little purpose. His notes are learned, short, and clear, but seldom poetical. Most of them are like the old Scholia upon Homer, explaining one word by another. He is full of apostrophes and exclamations, yet gives no reasons. Such as, exquisitè dictum! pictum egregiè! &c.

7.

words are obscure to a fault, and the transition too sudden and violent:

Namque illi & pharetras, brevioraque tela
dicarat

Festinus voti pater, insontesque sagittas.
Jam tunc & notâ stabulis de gente probatos
In nomen pascebat equos, cinctusque sonantes,
Armaque majores expectatura lacertos-
Spes avida! quas non in nomen credula vestes
Urgebat studio? &c.

Spes avidæ, must certainly be spoken of the mother, or else credula has nothing to agree with. In short, it must never be defended, but by one of these two excuses, either that Statius left his poem unfinished, or that the verse immediately preceding, is now lost. It might mean perhaps no more than this, "thus too was the unhappy mother deceived! with what care-&c." This consideration clears the sense, and solves all objections at once. However 'tis a mere conjecture, and may be truer to the author's reputation,than his first meaning.

All grave readers will reject this as a whimsical young man's notion; nor do I lay any stress upon it. To show I can be serious on occasion, I shall just refer them to Virgil's third Georgic, where will be found a transition from horses to cows, as obscure almost as this in Statius.

Mean while Adrastus bears the friendly part, And with kind words consoles, &c. v. 51. Chaucer, who was perhaps the greatest poet among the moderns, has translated these verses Gronovius (without any authority) thinks we almost word for word in his Knight's Tale. I shall should read spes avidi, instead of avidæ, still make this remark once for all: as nothing parti-preserving the context, and referring credula to cularises the fine passages in Homer more than that Virgil vouchsafed to imitate them: so scarce any thing can exalt the reputation of Statius higher, than the verbal imitations of our great countryman. I prefer this to a volume of criticisms; no man would imitate what he could exceed.

8.

Inwoven on the pall, young Linus lay
In lonely woods
v. 70.

Linus was the son of Apollo, and the nymph Psamathe. No picture could be introduced with more propriety; his death was almost exactly the same with that of Archemorus. The story is related at large by Adrastus in the first Thebaid; and admirably translated by Mr. Pope:

How mean a fate, unhappy child! is thine?
Ah how unworthy those of race divine?
On flow'ry herbs in some green covert laid,
His bed the ground, his canopy the shade,

spes. I cannot approve of this emendation for many reasons; we at once lose half the beauty. Besides, the repetition of in nomen would be tau tology, if it did not refer to another person: nor can urgere vestes be so properly applied to the father.

Whoever reads this positive Dutchman's preface to Ammianus Marcellinus, will never think him to be a man of sense, or candour.

10.

Stretch'd o'er the ground the tow'ring oaks

were seen, &c. v. 108.

This description is inimitably beautiful, and I might spend a whole page in admirations. 'Twere easy also, by drawing parallel places, (a common, but unfair practice) to prefer Statius to all the ancients, and moderns. Most of the poets have exercised their genius upon this occasion; particularly Ovid in the 10th book of his Metamorphosis:

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