Cowper, though "among the warmest admirers of Mr. Pope as an original writer," could not be satisfied with him as a translator. His own version is one of the closest possible. He pays great attention to the similes, the epithets, and what we may call the refrain lines. He presents Homer in all his simplicity, and nearly all his strength, but with scarcely a vestige of his harmony. For though sometimes successful in the onomatopoeic lines, he is generally dry and unmelodious to a painful degree; for which reason his translation, excellent as it is in many respects, can never be popular. The editor of the Knickerbocker will be glad to hear that Sotheby's translation has been published-some twelve years ago. It professed to combine Pope's elegance with Cowper's accuracy. How far this attempt was successful the reader shall have full opportunity of judging. The same object was aimed at by William Munford, a Virginian, whose Iliad has been recently published; only he wrote in blank verse and Sotheby in rhyme. That a man should begin to translate Homer without having ever heard of Cowper's version is astonishing; that Munford should consider his own version superior to Cowper's is still more surprising. A translation of the Iliad into blank verse, at once accurate and harmonious, is not quite an impossibility, but it is by no means rou Tvxóvros. Tennyson could achieve one, were it possible to wake him up out of cloudland and inspire him with ordinary energy. Elton possibly might. We should be slow to trust any other man living, or that has lived for some time. Munford's performance is just such a one as any educated man might execute who would take the trouble; and has no possible value as an addition to the already exist ing stock of Homeric literature. Appended to it are various stale, stupid, common-place, congregational-country-parson-ish notes. Here, for example, is an original and brilliant one, containing some recherché information. "Priam's spurious son. "The morality of ancient times was very loose, in relation to indulgence with women. The kings and heroes had many concubines as well as wives. The Christian religion alone introduced, and enforcin this respect." ed, by awful sanctions, a system of purity To prove our words we proceed to put Munford to the test-severe indeed, but one challenged by every new translator-of comparison with his predecessors. And we begin with CHRYSES' PRAYER AND APOLLO'S VENGE FUL DESCENT. Ὣς ἔφατ'· ἔδδεισεν δ' ὁ γέρων, καὶ ἐπεί θετο μύθῳ. κ. τ. λ. Lib. I. 33-49. LITERAL VERSION. Thus spake he: the old man feared and obeyed his word. And went silently along the shore of the loud-resounding sea.* Then going apart the aged man prayed much to King Apollo, whom fair-haired Leto bare. Hear me, God of the silver bow, who art wont to protectt Chrysa, and Cilla the divine, and who rulest with might over Tenedos; Smintheus! if ever I have built thy temple agreeably to thee, or ever consumed to thee the fat thighs of bulls and goats, fulfil this my desire. May the Greeks atone for my tears by means of thy arrows. Thus spake he praying: him Phœbus Apollo heard. And descended the heights of Olympus angry at heart; having upon his shoulders his bow and completely-covered quiver. And the arrows clashed on the shoulders of him enraged, as he moved. So he went on like the night. Then he sat apart from the ships and dispatched an arrow. And terrible was the clang of the silver bow. CHAPMAN. This said, the sea-beat shore (Obeying his high will) the priest trod off with haste and fear; And walking silent, till he left far off his enemies' ear, Phoebus, fair-hair'd Latona's son, he stirr'd To this stern purpose: Hear, thou God up with a vow that bear'st the silver bow, That Chrysa guard'st, rul'st Tenedos with strong hand, and the round Of Cilla most divine dost walk;-0 Sminthius! if crown'd If you prefer the Reuchlinian pronunciation poliflisveeo you must translate "the many rippled sea." Primarily "walk about" Hence "guard." + All the translators have misunderstood ἐπὶ νηὸν ἔρεψα. VOL. IV. NO. IV. 24 With thankful offerings thy rich fane I ever saw, or fired Fat thighs of oxen and of goats to thee, this grace desired Vouchsafe to me: pains for my tears, let these rude Greeks repay, Forced with thy arrows. Thus he pray'd, and Phoebus heard him pray; And vex'd at heart, down from the tops of steep heaven stoop'd; his bow And quiver cover'd round, his hands did on his shoulders throw; And of the angry deity the arrows as he moved Rattled about him. Like the night he ranged the host, and roved (Apart the fleet set) terribly: with his hard-loosing hand His silver bow twang'd. This is not a favorable specimen. The best lines of the original are cut up and stowed away in odd corners of different verses. "Hard-loosing hand," is a forcible epithet, but not in the original." All we can find to commend here is, Thus he prayed and Phoebus heard him pray," and the round dost walk" for ἀμφιβέβηκας. 66 POPE. The trembling priest along the shore return'd, And in the anguish of a father mourn'd. Silent he wander'd by the sounding main: "Oh Smintheus! sprung from fair Latona's line, Thou guardian power of Cilla the divine, Thou source of light! whom Tenedos adores, And whose bright presence gilds thy Chrysa's shores : If e'er with wreaths I hung thy sacred fane, Or fed the flames with fat of oxen slain; God of the silver bow! thy shafts employ, Avenge thy servant, and the Greeks destroy." Thus Chryses pray'd: the favouring power attends, And from Olympus' lofty top descends. Bent was his bow, the Grecian hearts to wound, Fierce as he moved, his silver shafts resound. Breathing revenge, a sudden night he spread. And gloomy darkness rolled around his head The fleet in view, he twang'd his deadly bow, And hissing fly the feather'd fates below. х Who with his silver bow and arrow keen Descended from Olympus silently In likeness of the sable night unseen. His bow and quiver both behind him hang, The arrows chink as often as he jogs (!) And as he shot the bow was heard to twang. How cleverly he spoils or omits every single point in the original! We give also, as a curiosity, a specimen of MACPHERSON. He from Olympus' brow in fury bore store. The arrows rattling round his viewless Clang'd as the God descended dark as night. Dire was the twanging of the silver bow. The fourth line is tame; the tenth line strong and harmonious; neither of them twelfth is in the style of Pope's very answer to anything in the original. The worst interpolations. The penultimate He, frowning, spoke ; the old man feared and shrunk from his high commands. Sad, silent, slow, he took his way, along the wide resounding main. Apart and distant from the host, he poured his mournful soul in prayer: he poured it forth to bow-line is evidently written for the couplet, yer Phoebus, whom the long-haired Latona after the Popian precedent. ble" and " death-denouncing" which are meant to be strengthening epithets have the very opposite effect. bore. Hear, bearer of the splendid bow! Guardian of Chrysa, of Cilla, the divine! Thou that o'er Tenedos reign'st with fame! O Smintheus, hear my prayer! If ever with wreaths I adorned, O Phoebus! thy beauteous fane: if ever thine altars smoked with offerings from the flocks and herds of Chryses: if me thou regardest in aught, O Phoebus, hear my prayer! Punish Greece for these tears of mine. Send thy deadly arrow abroad. He, praying, spoke. Apollo heard. He descended, from heaven, enraged in soul. On his shoulders his bow is hung: His quiver filled with deadly shafts! which harshly rattled, as he strode in his wrath. Like night he is borne along: then darkly sitting, apart from the host, he sends an arrow abroad. The bright bow emits a dreadful sound, as the shaft flies, unseen, from the string. Macpherson pretends to be quite literal, but is sufficiently diffuse, as the superfluous words which we have italicized in the above extract show. MUNFORD. "Inevita The fatted thighs of bulls or goats to thee; And dread Apollo heard him. And he, in Descended from Olympus' lofty cliffs, Arm'd with his bow, and quiver well encased. As fiercely he approach'd; and, dark as He came, terrific. From Achaia's fleet ver bow. There is nothing particularly bad in this version (except the peculiarly enfeebling introduction of "terrific," nor anything particularly good. Its proper designation is ordinary. It is precisely the sort of translation that nine out of ten readers of Homer would have the ability to write and the good sense not to publish. Our next selection shall be THE GRECIAN MUSTER. Ηὔτε τὰς ἀΐδηλον, κ. τ. λ. Lib. II. 455-473. LITERAL VERSION. As a destructive fire consumes an immense wood, on the peaks of a mountain, and the blaze is conspicuous from afar, so as they marched, the all-glittering gleam from their admirable armor went up through the firmament to heaven. And as the many tribes of winged birds, in geese, or cranes, or long-necked swans, the meadow of Asius, around the streams of Cayster, fly hither and thither upborne, exulting on their wings, and the meadow resounds as they light-down-one-after-another. So of them the many tribes from the ships and tents poured forth into the Scamandrian plain, while the ground reechoed terribly under the feet of themselves and their horses. So they stood in the flowery meadow of Scamander, innumerable, as many as the leaves and flowers grow in spring. As are the many tribes of thickly-congregated flies which hover about the shepherd's fold in the spring season, when also milk moistens the pails; so many stood in the plain the long-haired Greeks against the Trojans, longing to destroy them utterly. CHAPMAN. And as a fire upon A huge wood, on the heights of hills, that far off hurls his light, So the divine brass shined on these, thus thrusting on for fight: Their splendor through the air reach'd heaven and as about the flood Caïster, in an Asian mead, flocks of the airy brood, Cranes, geese, or long-necked swans, here, there, proud of their pinions fly, And in their falls lay out such throats, that with their spiritful cry The meadow shrieks again; so here, these many nation'd men, Flow'd over the Scamandrian field, from tents and ships: the din Was dreadful, that the feet of men and horse beat out of earth. And in the flourishing mead they stood, thick as the odorous birth. Of flowers, or leaves bred in the spring: or thick as swarms of flies Throng then to sheep-cotes, when each swarm his erring wing applies To milk dew'd on the milk-maid's pails: all eagerly disposed To give to ruin the Ilians. The first two similes are most accurately rendered, didnλov is the only omission; "spiritful" and "odorous" the resounds. Thus numerous and confused, extending wide, The legions crowd Scamander's flowery side; With rushing troops the plains are covered o'er, And thundering footsteps shake the sounding shore. Along the river's level meads they stand, Thick as in spring the flowers adorn the land, Or leaves the trees; or thick as insects play, The wandering nation of a summer's day, That, drawn by milky streams, at evening hours, In gather'd swarms surround the rural bowers; From pail to pail with busy murmur run In radiant arms, and thirst for Trojan blood. 66 are represented; we must admit with him that Pope's epithet embodied" is introduced with more than usual infelicity." One of the most prominent ideas in the original is the successive lighting of the birds, which Pope has entirely overlooked. The simile of the flies Chapman takes as alluding to the numbers of the Greeks. We think him right. His editor refers it to their eagerness for fight. Pope seems to understand it of their appearance; on which Taylor justly observes that "the flies that swarm round milk-pails are remarkable for anything rather than their glitter." "gn siagin is Spring not Summer. That fill the cup of spring and robe her bowers. As in fair springtime when the swain recalls The lowing cattle to their wonted stalls, Eve's milking hour from æther downward draws The flies' winged nations swarming o'er the base; Thus Greece poured forth her multitudinous throng, All burning to avenge their country's wrong. Very pretentious and very bad. All the distinctive epithets are omitted. 'Aiδηλον, ἄσπετον, θεσπεσίοιο—not an at tempt to express any of them, but instead a quantity of redundant and otiose adjectives in other places," silvery crane" (Sotheby, like Pope, thinks the goose too vulgar to introduce and turns him into a showy embellishment for his crane,) "clear Cayster's spring" and a number of lines that have no connection with the original but are merely put in to make fine writing. Two of the most platitudinous we have italicized. "Base" to rhyme with " draws" is fearfully vulgar. MUNFORD. Generally correct but wanting life and As raging fire consumes spirit-Cowper's usual fault. SOTHEBY. As flames on flames spread far and wide their light From forests blazing on the mountain height, Thus flash'd the lightning of their arms afar, And heaven's bright cope beam'd back the glare of war. wood, a wide-spread On some high mountain's summit, whence the blaze Is seen afar; so, from their burnish'd arms, With radiant glories gleam'd effulgent light, Flaming through æther to the vault of heaven! And as unnumber'd flocks of swift-wing'd birds, Geese, cranes, or stately swans with arching necks, |