Scripture and Homer) have shown a particular regard to
these animals. That of Toby is the more remarkable,
because there was no manner of reason to take notice of
the dog besides the great humanity of the author. And
Homer’s account of Ulysses’s dog Argus, is the most
pathetic imaginable, all the circumstances considered, and
an excellent proof of the old bard’s good-nature. Ulysses
had left him at Ithaca when he embarked for Troy, and
found him on his return after twenty years (which by the
way is not unnatural, as some critics have said, since I
remember the dam of my dog who was twenty-two years
old when she died: may the omen of longevity prove
fortunate to her successor!). You shall have it in verse.
ArgusWhen wise Ulysses, from his native coast
Long kept by wars, and long by tempests tossed,
Arrived at last, poor, old, disguised, alone,
To all his friends and even his queen unknown;
Changed as he was with age, and toils, and cares,
Furrowed his reverend face, and white his hairs,
In his own palace forced to ask his bread,
Scorned by those slaves his former bounty fed,
Forgot of all his own domestic crew;
The faithful dog alone his rightful master knew! 10
Unfed, unhoused, neglected, on the clay,
Like an old servant, now cashiered, he lay;
And though even then expiring on the plain
Touched with resentment of ungrateful man,
And longing to behold his ancient lord again.
Him when he saw he rose and crawled to meet
(’Twas all he could), and fawned, and kissed his feet,
Seized with dumb joy—then falling by his side,
Owned his returning lord, looked up, and died!
TO HENRY CROMWELL, 25 NOVEMBER 1710[on versification]
Your mention in this and your last letter of the defect in
numbers of several of our poets puts me upon
[254–5]