Importance of the Moral Sense. IT may now probably appear, that notwithstanding the Corruption of Manners so justly complain'd of every-where, this moral Sense has a greater Influence on Mankind than is generally imagin'd, altho' it is often directed by very partial imperfect Views of publick Good, and often overcome by Self-Love. But we shall offer some farther Considerations, to prove, That it gives us more Pleasure and Pain, than all our other Facultys.
And to prevent Repetitions, let us observe, That where-ever any morally good Quality gives Pleasure from Reflection, or from Honour, the contrary evil one will give proportionable Pain, from Remorse and Shame.
Now we shall consider the moral Pleasures, not only separately, but as they are the most delightful Ingredient in the ordinary Pleasures of Life.
All Men seem persuaded of some Excellency in the Possession of good moral Qualitys, which is superior to all other Enjoyments; and on the contrary, look upon a State of moral Evil, as worse and more wretched than any other whatsoever. We must not form our Judgment in this matter from the Actions of Men; for, however they may be influenc'd by moral Sentiments, yet it is certain, that self-interested Passions frequently overcome them, and partial Views of the Tendency of Actions, make us do what is really morally evil, apprehending it to be good. But let us examine the Sentiments which Men universally form of the State of others, when they are no way immediately concern'd; for in these Sentiments human Nature is calm and undisturb'd, and shews its true Face.
Now should we imagine a rational Creature in a sufficiently happy State, whose Mind was, without Interruption, wholly occupy'd with pleasant Sensations of Smell, Taste, Touch, &c. if at the same time all other Ideas were excluded? Should we not think the State low, mean, and sordid, if there were no Society, no Love or Friendship, no good Offices? What then must that State be, wherein there are no Pleasures but those of the external Senses, with such long Intervals as human Nature at present must have? Do these short Fits of Pleasure make the Luxurious happy? How insipid and joyless are the Reflections on past Pleasure? And how poor a Recompence is the Return of the transient Sensation, for the nauseous Satietys, and Languors in the Intervals? This Frame of our Nature, so incapable of long Enjoyments of the external Senses, points out to us, That there must be some other more durable Pleasure, without such tedious Interruptions, and nauseous Reflections.
Let us even join with the Pleasures of the external Senses, the Perceptions of Beauty, Order, Harmony. These are, no doubt, more noble Pleasures, and seem to inlarge the Mind; and yet how cold and joyless are they, if there be no moral Pleasures of Friendship, Love, and Beneficence? Now, if the bare Absence of moral Good makes, in our Judgment, the State of a rational Agent contemptible; the Presence of contrary Dispositions is always imagin'd by us to sink him into a degree of Misery, from which no other Pleasures can relieve him. Would we ever wish to be in the same Condition with a wrathful, malicious, revengeful, or envious Being, tho' we were at the same time to enjoy all the Pleasures of the external and internal Senses? The internal Pleasures of Beauty and Harmony contribute greatly indeed toward soothing the Mind into a forgetfulness of Wrath, Malice or Revenge; and they must do so, before we can have any tolerable Delight or Enjoyment: for while these Affections possess the Mind, there is nothing but Torment and Misery.
Castle-builders prove it. What Castle-builder, who forms to himself imaginary Scenes of Life, in which he thinks he should be happy, ever made acknowledg'd Treachery, Cruelty, or Ingratitude, the Steps by which he mounted to his wish'd-for Elevation, or Parts of his Character, when he had attain'd it? We always conduct ourselves in such Resveries, according to the Dictates of Honour, Faith, Generosity, Courage; and the lowest we can sink, is hoping we may be enrich'd by some innocent Accident.
O si urnam Argenti Fors qua mihi monstret[1]!——
But Labour, Hunger, Thirst, Poverty, Pain, Danger, have nothing so detestable in them, that our Self-Love cannot allow us to be often expos'd to them. On the contrary, the Virtues which these give us occasions of displaying, are so amiable and excellent, that scarce ever is any imaginary Hero, in Romance or Epic, brought to his highest Pitch of Happiness, without going thro' them all. Where there is no Virtue, there is nothing worth Desire or Contemplation; the Romance or Epos must end. Nay, the Difficulty[2], or natural Evil, does so much increase the Virtue of the good Action which it accompanys, that we cannot easily sustain these Works after the Distress is over; and if we continue the Work, it must be by presenting a new Scene of Benevolence, in a prosperous Fortune. A Scene of external Prosperity or natural Good, without any thing moral or virtuous, cannot entertain a Person of the dullest Imagination, had he ever so much interested himself in the Fortunes of his Hero; for where Virtue ceases, there remains nothing worth wishing to our Favourite, or which we can be delighted to view his Possession of, when we are most studious of his Happiness.
Virtue own'd superior to all Pleasure. Let us take a particular Instance, to try how much we prefer the Possession of Virtue to all other Enjoyments, and how we look upon Vice as worse than any other Misery. Who could ever read the History of Regulus, as related by Cicero, and some others, without concerning himself in the Fortunes of that gallant Man, sorrowing at his Sufferings, and wishing him a better Fate? But how a better Fate? Should he have comply'd with the Terms of the Carthaginians, and preserv'd himself from the intended Tortures, tho' to the Detriment of his Country? Or should he have violated his plighted Faith, and Promise of returning? Will any Man say, that either of these is the better Fate he wishes his Favourite? Had he acted thus, that Virtue would have been gone, which interests every one in his Fortunes.—Let him take his Fate like other common Mortals.
—What else do we wish then, but that the Carthaginians had relented of their Cruelty, or that Providence, by some unexpected Event, had rescued him out of their hands?
Now may not this teach us, that we are indeed determin'd to judge Virtue with Peace and Safety, preferable to Virtue with Distress; but that at the same time we look upon the State of the Virtuous, the Publick-spirited, even in the utmost natural Distress, as preferable to all affluence of other Enjoyments? For this is what we choose to have our Favourite Hero in, notwithstanding all its Pains, and natural Evils. We should never have imagin'd him happier, had he acted otherwise; or thought him in a more eligible State, with Liberty and Safety, at the Expence of his Virtue. We secretly judge the Purchase too dear; and therefore we never imagine he acted foolishly in securing his Virtue, his Honour, at the Expence of his Ease, his Pleasure, his Life. Nor can we think these latter Enjoyments worth the keeping, when the former are intirely lost.
Necessary in other Pleasures. Let us in the same manner examine our Sentiments of the Happiness of others in common Life. Wealth and ^External Pleasures^ bear no small bulk in our Imaginations; but does there not always accompany this Opinion of Happiness in Wealth, some suppos'd beneficent Intention of doing good Offices to Persons dear to us, at least to our Familys, or Kinsmen? And in our imagin'd Happiness from external Pleasure, are not some Ideas always included of some moral Enjoyments of Society, some Communication of Pleasure, something of Love, of Friendship, of Esteem, of Gratitude? Who ever pretended to a Taste of these Pleasures without Society? Or if any seem violent in Pursuit of them, how base and contemptible do they appear to all Persons, even to those who could have no Expectation of Advantage from their having a more generous Notion of Pleasure?
Now, were there no moral Sense, no Happiness in Benevolence, and did we act from no other Principle than Self-Love; sure there is no Pleasure of the external Senses, which we could not enjoy alone, with less Trouble and Expence than in Society. But a Mixture of the moral Pleasures is what gives the alluring Relish; 'tis some Appearance of Friendship, of Love, of communicating Pleasure to others, which preserves the Pleasures of the Luxurious from being nauseous and insipid. And this partial Imagination of some good moral Qualitys, some Benevolence, in Actions which have many cruel, inhuman, and destructive Consequences toward others, is what has kept Vice more in Countenance than any other Consideration[3].
But to convince us farther wherein the Happiness of Wealth, and external Pleasure lies; let us but suppose Malice, Wrath, Revenge; or only Solitude, Absence of Friendship, of Love, of Society, of Esteem, join'd with the Possession of them; and all the Happiness vanishes like a Dream. And yet Love, Friendship, Society, Humanity, tho' accompany'd with Poverty and Toil, nay even with smaller degrees of Pain, such as do not wholly occupy the Mind, are not only the Object of Love from others, but even of a sort of Emulation: which plainly shews, That Virtue is the chief Happiness in the Judgment of all Mankind.
The Charm in Beauty. There is a farther Consideration which must not be pass'd over, concerning the External Beauty of Persons, which all allow to have a great Power over human Minds. Now it is some apprehended Morality, some natural or imagin'd Indication of concomitant Virtue, which gives it this powerful Charm above all other kinds of Beauty. Let us consider the Characters of Beauty, which are commonly admir'd in Countenances, and we shall find them to be Sweetness, Mildness, Majesty, Dignity, Vivacity, Humility, Tenderness, Good-nature; that is, that certain Airs, Proportions, je ne scai quoy's, are natural Indications of such Virtues, or of Abilitys or Dispositions toward them. As we observ'd above[4] of Misery or Distress appearing in Countenances; so it is certain, almost all habitual Dispositions of Mind form the Countenance in such a manner, as to give some Indications of them to the Spectator. Our violent Passions are obvious at first View in the Countenance; so that sometimes no Art can conceal them: and smaller degrees of them give some less obvious Turns to the Face, which an accurate Eye will observe. Now, when the natural Air of a Face approaches to that which any Passion would form it unto, we make a Conjecture from this concerning the leading Disposition of the Person's Mind.
As to those Fancys which prevail in certain Countrys toward large Lips, little Noses, narrow Eyes; unless we knew from themselves under what Idea such Features are admir'd, whether as naturally beautiful in Form, or Proportion to the rest of the Face; or as presum'd Indications of some moral Qualitys; we may more probably conclude that it is the latter; since this is so much the Ground of Approbation or Aversion towards Faces among ourselves. And as to those Features which we count naturally disagreeable as to Form, we know the Aversion on this account is so weak, that moral Qualitys shall procure a Liking, even to the Face, in Persons who are sensible of the Irregularity, or Want of that Regularity which is common in others. With us, certain Features are imagin'd to denote Dullness; as hollow Eyes, large Lips; a Colour of Hair, Wantonness: and may we not conclude the like Association of Ideas, upon some probable Foundation in Nature, to be the Ground of those Approbations which appear unaccountable to us?
In the same manner, when there is nothing grosly disproportion'd in any Face, what is it we dispraise? It is Pride, Haughtiness, Sourness, Ill-nature, Discontent, Folly, Levity, Wantonness; which some Countenances discover in the Manner above hinted at? And these Airs, when brought by Custom upon the most regular Set of Features, have often made them very disagreeable; as the contrary Airs have given the strongest Charms to Countenances, which were far from Perfection in external Beauty. Had Homer, in his Character of Helen, rais'd our Idea of her external Beauty to the greatest Height, yet it would have been ridiculous to have engag'd his Countrymen in a War for such a Helen as Virgil has drawn her. He therefore still retains something morally amiable amidst all her Weakness, and often suggests to his Reader,
——— Ἑλένης ὁρμήματά τε σοναχάς τε[5],
as the Spring of his Countrymens Indignation and Revenge.
The Cause of different Fancys of Beauty. This Consideration may shew us one Reason, among many others, for Mens different Fancys, or Relishes of Beauty. The Mind of Man, however generally dispos'd to esteem Benevolence and Virtue, yet by more particular Attention to some Kinds of it than others, may gain a stronger Admiration of some moral Dispositions than others. Military Men may admire Courage more than other Virtues; Persons of smaller Courage may admire Sweetness of Temper; Men of Thought and Reflection, who have more extensive Views, will admire the like Qualitys in others; Men of keen Passions expect equal Returns of all the kind Affections, and are wonderfully charm'd by Compliance: The Proud may like those of higher Spirit, as more suitable to their Dignity; tho' Pride, join'd with Reflection and good Sense, will recommend to them Humility in the Person belov'd. Now as the various Tempers of Men make various Tempers of others agreeable to them, so they must differ in their Relishes of Beauty, according as it denotes the several Qualitys most agreeable to themselves.
This may also shew us, how in virtuous Lovethere may be the greatest Beauty, without the least Charm to engage a Rival. Love itself gives a Beauty to the Lover, in the Eyes of the Person belov'd, which no other Mortal is much affected with. And this perhaps is the strongest Charm possible, and that which will have the greatest Power, where there is not some very great Counterbalance from worldly Interest, Vice, or gross Deformity.
Air, Motion, Gestures. This same Consideration may be extended to the whole Air and Motion of any Person. Every thing we count agreeable, some way denotes Chearfulness, Ease, a Condescension, and Readiness to oblige, a Love of Company, with a Freedom and Boldness which always accompanys an honest, undesigning Heart. On the contrary, what is shocking in Air or Motion, is Roughness, Ill-nature, a Disregard to others, or a foolish Shame-facedness, which evidences a Person to be unexperienc'd in Society, or Offices of Humanity.
With relation to these Airs, Motions, Gestures, we may observe, that considering the different Ceremonys and Modes of shewing respect, which are practis'd in different Nations, we may indeed probably conclude that there is no natural Connexion between any of these Gestures or Motions, and the Affections of Mind which they are by Custom made to express. But when Custom has made any of them pass for Expressions of such Affections, by a constant Association of Ideas, some shall become agreeable and lovely, and others extremely offensive, altho' they were both, in their own Nature, perfectly indifferent.
The Spring of Love between the Sexes. Here we may remark the Manner in which Nature leads Mankind to the Continuance of their Race, and by its strongest Power engages them to what occasions the greatest Toil and Anxiety of Life; and yet supports them under it with an inexpressible Delight. We might have been excited to the Propagation of our Species, by such an uneasy Sensation as would have effectually determin'd us to it, without any great Prospect of Happiness; as we see Hunger and Thirst determine us to preserve our Bodys, tho' few look upon eating and drinking as any considerable Happiness. The Sexes might have been engag'd to Concurrence, as we imagine the Brutes are, by Desire only, or by a Love of sensual Pleasure. But how dull and insipid had Life been, were there no more in Marriage? Who would have had Resolution enough to bear all the Cares of a Family, and Education of Children? Or who, from the general Motive of Benevolence alone, would have chosen to subject himself to natural Affection toward an Offspring, when he could so easily foresee what Troubles it might occasion?
This Inclination therefore of the Sexes, is founded on something stronger, and more efficacious and joyful, than the Solicitations of Uneasiness, or the bare Desire of sensible Pleasure. Beauty gives a favourable Presumption of good moral Dispositions, and Acquaintance confirms this into a real Love of Esteem, or begets it, where there is little Beauty. This raises an Expectation of the greatest moral Pleasures along with the sensible, and a thousand tender Sentiments of Humanity and Generosity; and makes us impatient for a Society which we imagine big with unspeakable moral Pleasures: where nothing is indifferent, and every trifling Service, being an Evidence of this strong Love and Esteem, is mutually receiv'd with the Rapture and Gratitude of the greatest Benefit, and of the most substantial Obligation; and where Prudence and Good-nature influence both Sides, this Society may answer all their Expectations.
Nay, let us examine those of looser Conduct with relation to the fair Sex, and we shall find, that Love of sensible Pleasure is not the chief Motive of Debauchery, or false Gallantry. Were it so, the meanest Prostitutes would please as much as any. But we know sufficiently, that Men are fond of Good-nature, Faith, Pleasantry of Temper, Wit, and many other moral Qualitys, even in a Mistress. And this may furnish us with a Reason for what appears pretty unaccountable, viz. That Chastity itself has a powerful Charm in the Eyes of the Dissolute, even when they are attempting to destroy it.
This powerful Determination even to a limited Benevolence, and other moral Sentiments, is observ'd to give a strong Bias to our Minds towards a universal Goodness, Tenderness, Humanity, Generosity, and Contempt of private Good in our whole Conduct; besides the obvious Improvement it occasions in our external Deportment, and in our Relish of Beauty, Order, and Harmony. As soon as a Heart, before hard and obdurate, is soften'd in this Flame, we shall observe, arising along with it, a Love of Poetry, Musick, the Beauty of Nature in rural Scenes, a Contempt of other selfish Pleasures of the external Senses, a neat Dress, a humane Deportment, a Delight in and Emulation of, every thing which is gallant, generous, and friendly.
Society, Friendships, from our Moral Sense. In the same manner we are determin'd to common Friendships and Acquaintances, not by the sullen Apprehensions of our Necessitys, or Prospects of Interest; but by an incredible Variety of little, agreeable, engaging Evidences of Love, Good-nature, and other morally amiable Qualitys in those we converse with. And among the rest, none of the least considerable is an Inclination to Chearfulness, a Delight to raise Mirth in others, which procures a secret Approbation and Gratitude toward the Person who puts us in such an agreeable, innocent, good-natur'd, and easy State of Mind, as we are conscious of, while we enjoy pleasant Conversation, enliven'd by moderate Laughter.
The Power of Oratory founded on it. Upon this moral Sense is founded all the Power of the Orator. The various Figures of Speech are the several Manners, which a lively Genius, warm'd with Passions suitable to the Occasion, naturally runs into, only a little diversify'd by Custom: and they only move the Hearers, by giving a lively Representation of the Passions of the Speaker; which are communicated to the Hearers, as we[6] observ'd above of one Passion, viz. Pity.
Now the Passions which the Orator attempts to raise, are all founded on moral Qualitys. All the bold Metaphors, or Descriptions, all the artificial Manners of Expostulation, Arguing, and Addressing the Audience, all the Appeals to Mankind, are but more lively Methods of giving the Audience a stronger impression of the moral Qualitys of the Person accus'd or defended; of the Action advis'd or dissuaded: And all the Antitheses, or Witticisms; all the Cadences of sonorous Periods, whatever inferior kind of Beauty they may have separately, are of no Consequence to persuade, if we neglect moving the Passions by some Species of Morality. They may perhaps raise a little Admiration of the Speaker, among those who already favour his Party, but they oftner raise Contempt in his Adversarys. But when you display the Beneficence of any Action, the good Effect it shall have on the Publick in promoting the Welfare of the Innocent, and relieving the unjustly Distressed; if you prove your Allegations, you make every Mortal approve the undertaking it. When any Person is to be recommended, display his Humanity, Generosity, Study of the publick Good, and Capacity to promote it, his Contempt of Dangers, and private Pleasures; and you are sure to procure him Love and Esteem. If at the same time you shew his Distress, or the Injurys he has suffer'd, you raise Pity, and every tender Affection.
On the contrary, represent the Barbarity, or Cruelty of any Action, the Misery it shall procure to the Kind, the Faithful, the Generous, or only to the Innocent; and you raise an Abhorrence of it in the Breasts of the Audience, tho' they were not the Persons who would have suffer'd by it. The same way, would you make a Person infamous, and despis'd and hated, represent him as cruel, inhuman, or treacherous toward the most distant rational Agents; or shew him only to be selfish, and given to solitary Luxury, without regard to any Friend, or the Interest of others; and you have gain'd your Point, as soon as you prove what you alledge. Nay, how does it stop our Admiration of any celebrated Action, to suggest, That the Author of it was no Fool; he knew it would turn to his own Advantage!
Now, are the Learned and Polite the only Persons who are mov'd by such Speeches? Must Men know the Schemes of the Moralists and Politicians, or the Art of Rhetorick, to be capable of being persuaded? Must they be nicely conversant in all the Methods of promoting Self-Interest? Nay, do we not see on the contrary, the rude undisciplin'd Multitude most affected? Where had Oratory so much Power as in popular States, and that too before the Perfection of the Sciences? Reflection and Study may raise in Men a Suspicion of Design, and Caution of Assent, when they have some Knowledge of the various Topicks of Argument, and find them employ'd upon themselves: but rude Nature is still open to every moral Impression, and carry'd furiously along without Caution, or Suspense. It was not the Groves of the Academy, or the polish'd Stones of the Portico, or the manag'd Horses of Greece, which listen'd to the Harp of an Amphion, or an Orpheus; but the Trees, and Rocks, and Tygers of the Forest: which may shew us, That there is some Sense of Morality antecedent to Instruction, or metaphysical Arguments proving the private Interest of the Person who is persuaded, to be connected with the publick Good.
Poetry pleases from this Moral Sense. We shall find this Sense to be the Foundation also of the chief Pleasures of Poetry. We hinted, in the former Treatise, at the Foundation of Delight in the Numbers, Measures, Metaphors, Similitudes[7]. But as the Contemplation of moral Objects, either of Vice or Virtue, affects us more strongly, and moves our Passions in a quite different and more powerful manner, than natural Beauty, or (what we commonly call) Deformity; so the most moving Beautys bear a Relation to our moral Sense, and affect us more vehemently, than the Representation of natural Objects in the liveliest Descriptions. Dramatic and Epic Poetry are intirely address'd to this Sense, and raise our Passions by the Fortunes of Characters, distinctly represented as morally good or evil; as might be seen more fully, were we to consider the Passions separately.
Where we are studying to raise any Desire, or Admiration of an Object really beautiful, we are not content with a bare Narration, but endeavour, if we can, to present the Object itself, or the most lively Image of it. And hence the Epic Poem, or Tragedy, gives a far greater Pleasure than the Writings of Philosophers, tho' both aim at recommending Virtue. The representing the Actions themselves, if the Representation be judicious, natural, and lively, will make us admire the Good, and detest the Vitious, the Inhuman, the Treacherous and Cruel, by means of our moral Sense, without any Reflections of the Poet to guide our Sentiments. It is for this Reason that Horace has justly made Knowledge in Morals so necessary to a good Poet:
Scribendi recte Sapere est & principium & fons[8].
And again:
Qui didicit Patriae quid debeat, & quid Amicis,
Quo sit amore Parens, quo Frater amandus, & Hospes,
Quod sit Conscripti, quod Judicis officium, quae
Partes in bellum missi Ducis; ille profecto
Reddere Personae scit convenientia cuique[9].
Imagery in Poetry founded on the Moral Sense. Upon this same Sense is founded the Power of that great Beauty in Poetry, the Prosopopoeia, by which every Affection is made a Person; every natural Event, Cause, Object, is animated by moral Epithets. For we join the Contemplation of moral Circumstances and Qualitys, along with natural Objects, to increase their Beauty or Deformity; and we affect the Hearer in a more lively manner with the Affections describ'd, by representing them as Persons. Thus a shady Wood must have its solemn venerable Genius, and proper rural Gods; every clear Fountain, its sacred chaste Nymph; and River, its bountiful God, with his Urn, and perhaps a Cornucopiæ diffusing Plenty and Fruitfulness along its Banks. The Day-light is holy, benign, and powerful to banish the pernicious Spirits of the Night. The Morning is a kind officious Goddess, tripping over the dewy Mountains, and ushering in Light to Gods and Men. War is an impetuous, cruel, undistinguishing Monster, whom no Virtue, no Circumstance of Compassion, can move from his bloody Purposes. The Steel is unrelenting; the Arrow and Spear are impatient to destroy, and carry Death on their Points. Our modern Engines of War are also frightful Personages, counterfeiting with their rude Throats the Thunder of Jove. The moral Imagery of Death is every-where known, viz. his Insensibility to Pity, his Inflexibility, and universal impartial Empire. Fortune is inimitably drawn by Horace[10], with all her Retinue and Votaries, and with her rigid severe Minister, Necessity. The Qualitys of Mind too become Persons. Love becomes a Venus, or a Cupid; Courage, or Conduct, a Mars, or a Pallas, protecting and assisting the Hero; before them march Terror and Dread, Flight and Pursuit, Shouts and Amazement. Nay, the most sacred Poets are often led into this Imagery, and represent Justice and Judgment as supporting the Almighty's Throne, and Mercy and Truth going before his Face: They shew us Peace as springing up from the Earth, and Mercy looking down from Heaven.
Every one perceives a greater Beauty in this manner of Representation, this Imagery, this Conjunction of moral Ideas, than in the fullest Narration, or the most lively natural Description. When one reads the fourth Book of Homer, and is prepar'd, from the Council of the Gods, to imagine the bloody Sequel, and amidst the most beautiful Description which ever was imagin'd of shooting an Arrow, meets with its moral Epithet,
——— μελαινάων ἕρμ' ὀδυνᾴων[11],
——— The Source of blackest Woes;
he will find himself more mov'd by this Circumstance, than by all the Profusion of natural Description which Man could imagine.
History. History derives its chief Excellence from the representing the Manners and Characters; the Contemplation of which in Nature being very affecting, they must necessarily give Pleasure, when well related.
Painting. It is well known too, that a Collection of the best Pieces of Face-painting is but a poor Entertainment, when compar'd with those Pieces which represent moral Actions, Passions, and Characters.
Hor. Lib. 2. Sat. 6. ver. 10.
Sect. iii. Art. xi. Axiom 6.
See above, Sect. iv. Art. 4. Par. 4, 5.
See Sect. V. Art. 8. Par. 2.
See Homer, Iliad 2. ver. 356, 590.
See Sect. v. Art. 8. Par. 2.
See Treatise I. Sect. ii. Art. 13. Sect. iv. Art. 3.
Hor. de Arte Poet. ver. 309.
Hor. de Arte Poet. ver. 312 &c.
See Lib. 1. Od. 35.
See Homer, Iliad iv. ver. 117.