e manner of _Virgil_, the
other in the manner of _Homer_: The two Translations are made by the
Reverend Mr. _Pitt_. He published the first among some Miscellany
Poems several Years since, the latter in his four Books of the _AEneid_
about two Years ago.

I.

"Arms and the Man I sing; the first who driv'n
From _Trojan_ Shores, the Fugitive of Heav'n,
Came to th' _Italian_ and _Lavinian_ Coast;--

II.

"Arms and the Man I sing, the first who bore
His Course to _Latium_ from the _Trojan_ Shore.--

The first Translation is exact in every respect: You have in it the
Suspence and Majesty of _Virgil_. The second is a good Translation,
though not at all like _Virgil_, but exactly like _Homer_: There is no
Hesitation, but the Verse and the Matter hurry on together as fast as
possible.

I have now shown you what is a _rapid_, and what is a _majestick
Stile_. But a few more Lines of the Beginning both of the _Iliad_ and
of the _AEneid_ will make it still more plain.

ILIAD.

"The Anger of _Achilles_, Goddess, sing;
Which to the _Greeks_ did endless Sorrows bring;
And sent untimely, to the Realms of Night,
The Souls of many Chiefs, renown'd in Fight:
And gave their Bodies for the Dogs to tear,
And every hungry Fowl that wings the Air.
And thus accomplish'd was the Will of _Jove_,
Since first _Atrides_ and _Achilles_ strove.
What God the fatal Enmity begun?
_Latona_'s, and great _Jove_'s immortal Son.
He through the Camp a dire Contagion spread,
The Prince offended, and the People bled:
With publick Scorn, _Atrides_ had disgrac'd
The Reverend _Chryses_, _Phoebus'_ chosen Priest.
He to redeem his Daughter, sought the Shore,
Where lay the _Greeks_, and mighty Presents bore:
Deckt with the Ensigns of his God, he stands,
The Crown, the golden Sceptre in his Hands;
To all he su'd, but to the Princes most,
Great _Atreus_'s Sons, the Leaders of the Host:
Princes! and _Grecian_ Warriors! may the Gods
(The Pow'rs that dwell in Heav'ns sublime Abodes)
Give you to level _Priam_'s haughty Tow'rs,
And safely to regain your native Shores.
But my dear Daughter to her Sire restore,
These Gifts accept, and dread _Apollo_'s Pow'r;
The Son of _Jove_; he bears a mighty Bow,
And from afar his Arrows gall the Foe.

AENEID.

Arms and the Man I sing, the first who driv'n
From _Trojan_ Shores, the Fugitive of Heav'n,
Came to th' _Italian_ and _Lavinian_ Co