English Iliad. It is certainly the nobleft verfion of poetry which the world has ever feen; and its publication must therefore be confidered as one of the great events in the annals of Learning.

To those who have skill to estimate the excellence and difficulty of this great work, it must be very defirable to know how it was performed, and by what gradations it advanced to correctnefs. Of fuch an intellectual process the knowledge has very rarely been attainable; but happily there remains the original copy of the Iliad, which, being obtained by Bolingbroke as a curiofity, defcended from him to Mallet, and is now by the folicitation of the late Dr. Maty repofited in the Museum.

Between this manufcript, which is written upon accidental fragments of paper, and the printed edition, there must have been an intermediate copy, that was perhaps destroyed as it returned from the press.

From the first copy I have procured a few transcripts, and shall exhibit first the printed lines;

5

lines; then, in a smaller print, thofe of the manuscripts, with all their variations. Thofe words in the small print which are given in Italicks, are cancelled in the copy, and the words placed under them adopted in their ftead.

The beginning of the first book stands thus:

The wrath of Peleus' fon, the direful spring
Of all the Grecian woes, O Goddess, fing;
That wrath which hurl'd to Pluto's gloomy reign
The fouls of mighty chiefs untimely flain.

The stern Pelides' rage, O Goddess, fing,
wrath

Of all the woes of Greece the fatal spring,

Grecian

That ftrew'd with warriors dead the Phrygian plain, heroes

And peopled the dark hell with heroes flain;
fill'd the fhady hell with chiefs untimely

Whofe limbs, unburied on the naked fhore,
Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore,
Since great Achilles and Atrides ftrove;
Such was the fovereign doom, and such the will
of Jove.

Whofe limbs, unburied on the hoftile fhore,
Devouring dogs and greedy vultures tore,

Since firft Atrides and Achilles ftrove;

Such was the fovereign doom, and fuch the will of Jove.

Declare,

Declare, O Mufe, in what ill-fated hour
Sprung the fierce ftrife, from what offended
Power!

Latona's fon a dire contagion fpread,

And heap'd the camp with mountains of the dead;
The King of Men his reverend priest defy'd,
And for the King's offence the people dy'd.

Declare, O Goddefs, what offended Power

Enfilam'd their rage, in that ill-omen'd hour; fatal, hapless

anger

Phoebus himself the dire debate procur'd,

fierce

T'avenge the wrongs his injur'd priest endur'd ;
For this the God a dire infection spread,

And heap'd the camp with millions of the dead:
The King of Men the facred Sire defy'd,

And for the King's offence the people dy'd.

For Chryfes fought with coftly gifts to gain
His captive daughter from the Victor's chain;
Suppliant the venerable Father stands,
Apollo's awful enfigns grace his hands,
By these he begs, and, lowly bending down,
Extends the fceptre and the laurel crown.

For Chryfes fought by prefents to regain

coitly gifts to gain

His captive daughter from the Victor's chain;
Suppliant the venerable Father ftands,

Apollo's awful enfigns grac'd his hands,
By these he begs, and lowly bending down

The golden fceptre and the laurel crown,

Preients the iceptre

VOL. IV.

E

For

For thefe as enfigns of his God he bare,
The God that fends his golden fhafts afar;
The low on earth, the venerable man,
Suppliant before the brother kings began.

He fued to all, but chief implor'd for grace
The brother kings of Atreus' royal race;

Ye kings and warriors, may your vows be crown'd,

And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground; May Jove restore you, when your toils are o'er, Safe to the pleasures of your native shore.

To all he fued, but chief implor'd for grace
The brother kings of Atreus' royal race.

Ye Jons of Atreus, may your vows be crown'd,
Kings and warriors

Your labours, by the Gods be all your labours crown'd;
may the Gods your arms with conqueft blefs,

So

And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground;
Till
laid

And crown your labours with defer'd fuccefs;
May Jove reftore you, when your toils are o'er,
Safe to the pleasures of your native fhore.

But, oh! relieve a wretched parent's pain,
And give Chryfeis to thefe arms again;
If mercy fail, yet let my present move,
And dread avenging Phoebus, fon of Jove.

But, oh! relieve a hapless parent's pain,
And give my daughter to thefe arms again;

Receive my gifts; if mercy fails, yet let my prefent move,
And fear the God that deals his darts around,

avenging Phobus, fon of Jove.

The

The Greeks, in fhouts, their joint affent declare
The priest to reverence, and release the fair.
Not fo Atrides; he, with kingly pride,
Repuls'd the facred Sire, and thus reply'd.

He faid, the Greeks their joint affent declare,
The father faid, the gen'rous Greeks relent,
T'accept the ranfom, and release the fair:
Revere the priest, and speak their joint affent :
Not fo the tyrant, he, with kingly pride,
A trides

Repuls'd the facred Sire, and thus reply'd.
[Not fo, the tyrant. DRYDEN.]

Of thefe 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 fecond book varies very little from the printed page, and is therefore fet down without any parallel; the few flight differences do not require to be elaborately difplayed.

Now pleafing fleep had feal'd each mortal eye;
Stretch'd in their tents the Grecian leaders lie;
Th' Immortals flumber'd on their thrones above,
All but the ever-watchful eye of Jove.

To honour Thetis' fon he bends his care,
And plunge the Greeks in all the woes of war.