rays; nor dare they bark, though much provoked at her refulgent visage, whether seen in puddle by reflection, or in sphere direct; but one surveys the region round, while the other scouts the plain, if haply to discover, at distance from the flock, some carcase half devoured, the refuse of gorged wolves, or ominous ravens. So marched this lovely, loving pair of friends, nor with less fear and circumspection, when, at distance, they might perceive two shining suits of armour, hanging upon an oak, and the owners not far off, in a profound sleep. The two friends drew lots, and the pursuing of this adventure fell to Bentley; on he went, and, in his van, Confusion and Amaze, while Horror and Affright brought up the rear. As he came near, behold two heroes of the ancients' army, Phalaris and Æsop, lay fast asleep : Bentley would fain have dispatched them both, and, stealing close, aimed his flail at Phalaris's breast. * But then the goddess Affright interpo * Bentley united the question concerning Phalaris with the debate about ancient and modern learning, by the following Proemium, as he calls it, addressed to Wotton, and levelled against Sir William Temple, being the telum imbelle, which he is presently represented in the text as launching against that ally of the ancient cause: "Sir, I remember that, discoursing with you upon this passage of Sir W. T. (which I have here set down) I happened to say, That, with all deference to so great an authority, and under a just awe of so sharp a censure, I believe it might be even demonstrated that the Epistles of Phalaris are spurious, and that we have nothing now extant of Esop's own composing. This casual declaration of my opinion, by the power of that long friendship that has been between us, you improved into a promise, that I would send you my reasons in writing, to be added to the new edition of your book; believing it, as I suppose, a considerable point in the controversy you are engaged in. For if it once be made out that these writings your adversary so extols, are supposititious, and of sing, caught the modern in her icy arms, and dragged him from the danger she foresaw; both the dormant heroes happened to turn at the same instant, though soundly sleeping, and busy in a dream. For Phalaris* was just that minute dreaming how a most vile poetaster had lampooned him, and how he had got him roaring in his bull. And Æsop dreamed, that, as he and the ancient chiefs were lying on the ground, a wild ass broke loose, ran about, trampling and kicking, and dunging in their faces. Bentley, leaving the two heroes asleep, seized on both their armours, and withdrew in quest of his darling Wotton. no very long standing, you have then his and his party's own confession, that some of the later pens have outdone the old ones in their kinds. And to others, that have but a mean esteem of the wit and style of those books, it will be a double prejudice against him in your favour, that he could neither discover the true time nor the true value of his authors. These I imagine were your thoughts when you engaged me to this that I am now doing. But I must take the freedom to profess, that I wrote without any view or regard to your controversy, which I do not make my own, not presume to interpose in it. It is a subject so nice and delicate, and of such a mixt and diffuse nature, that I am content to make the best use I can of both ancients and moderns, without venturing with you upon the hazard of a wrong comparison, or the envy of a true one. That some of the oldest books are best in their kinds, the same person having the double glory of invention and perfection, is a thing observed even by some of the ancients. -Dion. Chrysost. Orat. XXXIII. p. 397. But then the authors they gave this honour to, are Homer and Archilochus; one the father of heroic poem, the other of epode and trochaic. But the choice of Phalaris and Æsop, as they are now extant, for the two great inimitable originals, is a piece of criticism of a peculiar complexion, and must proceed from a singularity of palate and judgment."-BENTLEY'S Dissertations upon the Epistles of Phalaris. Lond. 1777, 8. p. 3. *This is according to Homer, who tells the dreams of those who were killed in their sleep. He, in the mean time, had wandered long in search of some enterprise, till at length he arrived at a small rivulet, that issued from a fountain hard by, called, in the language of mortal men, Helicon. Here he stopped, and, parched with thirst, resolved to allay it in this limpid stream. Thrice with profane hands he essayed to raise the water to his lips, and thrice it slipped all through his fingers. Then he stooped prone on his breast, but, ere his mouth had kissed the liquid crystal, Apollo came, and, in the channel, held his shield betwixt the modern and the fountain, so that he drew up nothing but mud. For, although no fountain on earth can compare with the clearness of Helicon, yet there lies at bottom a thick sediment of slime and mud; for so Apollo begged of Jupiter, as a punishment to those who durst attempt to taste it with unhallowed lips, and for a lesson to all not to draw too deep or far from the spring. At the fountain-head, Wotton discerned two heroes; the one he could not distinguish, but the other was soon known for Temple, general of the allies to the ancients. His back was turned, and he was employed in drinking large draughts in his helmet from the fountain, where he had withdrawn himself to rest from the toils of the war. Wotton observing him, with quaking knees, and trembling hands, spoke thus to himself: O that I could kill this destroyer of our army, what renown should I purchase among the chiefs? but to issue out against him, man against man, shield against shield, and lance against lance, what modern of us dare? for he fights like a god, and * Vid. Homer. Pallas, or Apollo, are ever at his elbow. But, O mother! if what Fame reports be true, that I am the son of so great a goddess, grant me to hit Temple with this lance, that the stroke may send him to hell, and that I may return in safety and triumph, laden with his spoils. The first part of this prayer, the gods granted at the intercession of his mother and of Momus; but the rest, by a perverse wind sent from Fate, was scattered in the air. Then Wotton grasped his lance, and, brandishing it thrice over his head, darted it with all his might; the goddess, his mother, at the same time, adding strength to his arm. Away the lance went hizzing, and reached even to the belt of the averted ancient, upon which, lightly grazing, it fell to the ground. Temple neither felt the weapon touch upon him, nor heard it fall; and Wotton might have escaped to his army, with the honour of having remitted his lance against so great a leader, unrevenged; but Apollo, enraged that a javelin, flung by the assistance of so foul a goddess, should pollute his fountain, put on the shape. of and softly came to young Boyle, who then accompanied Temple: he pointed first to the lance, then to the distant modern that flung it, and commanded the young hero to take immediate revenge. * Boyle, clad in a suit of armour * Boyle alleges in his preface, as his principal reason for entering into the controversy about Phalaris, his respect for Sir William Temple, who had been coarsely treated by Bentley. "But I was chiefly induced to observe these measures, by the regard I had for the most accomplished writer of the age, whom I never think of without calling to mind those happy lines of Lucre tius: Quem tu, dea, tempore in omni which had been given him by all the gods, immediately advanced against the trembling foe, who now fled before him. As a young lion in the Lybian plains, or Araby desert, sent by his aged sire to hunt for prey, or health, or exercise, he scours along, wishing to meet some tiger from the mountains, or a furious boar; if chance a wild ass, A character, which, I dare say, Memmius did not better observe than Sir William Temple. He had openly declared in favour of the Epistles; and the nicety of his taste was never, I think, dispu ted by such as had any themselves. I quoted his words with that respect which is due to every thing that comes from him; but must now beg his pardon for it: for I have, by this means, I find, drawn him into a share of Dr Bentley's displeasure, who has hereupon given himself the trouble of writing almost fourscore pages solemnly to disprove that one of Sir William's, which he has prefixed to his appendix; and which, to give him my opinion of his whole book at once, is the only good page there. "I am, therefore, the rather inclined to give Dr Bentley's reflections a due examination, on Sir William Temple's account, upon whom I so unhappily occasioned this storm of criticism to fall. In truth, for a man who has been so great an ornament to learning, he has had a strange usage from some who are retainers to it. He had set the world a pattern of mixing wit with reason, sound knowledge with good manners, and of making the one serve to recommend and set off the other; but his copy has not been at all followed by those that have writ against him in a very rough way, and without that respect which was due both to his character and their own. "I will not pretend to determine on which side in those disputes the truth lies; only thus much I will venture to say of 'em, that, let Sir W. T. be as much out in some of his opinions as he's represented to be, yet they who read both sides, will be apt to fall in with Tully's opinion of Plato, and say, Cum illo ego mehercle errare malim, quàm cum istis scriptoribus vera sentire."-BENTLEY'S Dissertations on Phalaris, examined by the Hon. Charles Boyle, Esq. London, 1698, 8. preface, p. 3. Boyle was assisted in this dispute by Dean Aldrich, Dr Atterbury, afterwards Bishop of Rochester, and other persons at Oxford, celebrated for their genius and their learning, then called the Christ-Church wits. |