PREFACE. THE translation of Horace's Odes into any modern language is a task of acknowledged difficulty and of very doubtful success. By many the attempt has been considered hopeless. The famous phrase of Petronius Arbiter, "Horatii curiosa felicitas," is in every critic's mouth; and the more we study that elaborate and unrivalled felicity, the less capable we feel of reproducing it in another language. Nor is this the only or the least difficulty which presents itself to the translator of Horace's Odes. Abrupt transitions, concentrated sententiousness, obscure and remote allusions, are scattered broadcast through the pages. By a diligent and anxious translator the abruptness must often be softened, the sententiousness often diluted, the obscurities made intelligible; here and there indelicacies must be veiled. These difficulties have probably been sufficient to deter from the attempt many more competent to execute it than the Author of the present work, yet these difficulties are not all insuperable. The peculiar felicity of expression is indeed inimitable and untranslateable, and a multitude of passages will necessarily lose much of their terseness and vigour by translation. Who can translate into verse the following stanzas without some degree of expansion and circumlocution: 66 Sperat infestis, metuit secundis, Jupiter, idem Summovet: nou si male nunc, et olim In this, and in many similar passages, allowance must be made for the peculiarities of language and the necessary use of the article and auxiliary verbs, which offer so great an impediment to the Translator in modern tongues. It is difficult to dance in fetters, and when the limbs are too closely cramped the fetters must be in some degree relaxed. Something, however, may be done when clothing Horace in an English garb, and something I hope to have accomplished. True poetry may be transfused from one language into another; the correct meaning may be re-embodied; the moral colouring may be transferred; the sly joke may be relished in English as well as in Latin; the wine-cup may again flow in Claret if not in Falernian; and the heart again grow warm with the accents of friendship or of love. Some of our greatest poets have not disdained this task of translation; and if Dryden has succeeded in his magnificent paraphrase of the "Tyrrhena regum progenies," Milton, the greatest of modern poets (with all respect be it spoken), has failed in his "Ode to Pyrrha." The version is indeed executed with remarkable fidelity, but an English lyrical composition without the graces of rhyme, has little to recommend it; and he who could make use of such a phrase as the following, "Who now enjoys thee, credulous, all gold," seems to have been so absorbed in his Latin as to have forgotten at the moment his English. This failure by the greatest master of the English language may serve as a warning to those who imagine it possible to translate literally that same "felicity of words" already alluded to; while the success of Dryden's paraphrase, in some of its most striking passages, affords a better model for imitation. This justly celebrated effort of translation will be found in its proper place, since I could neither hope to rival it by any performance of my own, nor could I content myself, on the other hand, with producing an inferior version; and yet even this effort is by no means perfect as a translation. The fault of too redundant paraphrase may fairly be imputed to it; and numerous passages might be cited, redolent indeed of Dryden, but overpowering the simplicity of Horace. Also when he writes : "Thou, what befits the new Lord Mayor, Art anxiously inquisitive to know;" he seems for the moment to forget Mæcenas, "Descended of an ancient line That long the Tuscan sceptre swayed,” and to remember only Lawrence, earl of Rochester, to whom his translation is inscribed. Upon no other hypothesis can we reconcile the strange anachronisms in these lines. It remains for me to notice the work of the Rev. Mr. Francis, which, having long been the only complete translation of our poet, has almost acquired the dignity of an English Classic. To Francis must undoubt C |