Cowper fails in his version, but his failure is not so signal as Pope's. The latter has, however, the merit of beautiful poetry to break and redeem his fall, which the latter has no pretensions to. Cowper thus renders the lines: As from the hollow rock bees stream abroad, And in succession endless seek the fields, Now clustering, and now scattered far and near, Cowper, ii. 101–11. Rugged indeed must be the ears that can be pleased with such harsh grating and grinding as these lines contain. Yet in Homer this is one of the most mellifluous and exquisitely modulated passages in the Iliad. There is not a single beauty of the original which is not travestied and spoiled. The humming, and buzzing, and murmuring, and bustling which are so admirably illustrated in the language of Homer, are all lost here. And the music of the verse, if it has any, is like the creaking of a rusty smoke-jack. Cowper's supplements to Flomer!-proh pudor! are very happy. His "green level" is the sea-shore: and if he could get grass to go there, we think that it was a poor imitation of madness, when Ulysses ploughed the sand and sowed salt in the furrows. If Cowper could get a "green level" on the sandy beach, Ulysses might have raised a crop of Scotch herrings. The force of the Homeric dedne, too, is completely lost in Cowper's "ardent haste inspired." Let us hear what Homer did say. Meanwhile the people thronged: like humming tribes In clust'ring throngs among the flowers of spring; Tumultuous was the concourse; where they sat, Munford. ii. 117-130. This is what Homer did say, as truly, fully, and musically expressed as the English language and the particular metre employed will permit. Every thing in the Homeric simile is expressed in the translation, and nothing more. There are only three additaments, and they are very slight. The only defect is that Mr. Munford has taken a line and a half to explain the three words αιει νεόν ἐρχομενάων. He is the only one of the translators who has given due force to the Homeric dens, or has given any poetic English equivalent for the beautiful expression ἐπ' ἄνθεσιν ειαρινοισιν. The rhythm of the original, and the simile itself is so exquisite, that we give it in Homer's own melodious Greek. Ηύτε έθνεα εἴσι μελισσάων αδινάων, Πέτρης ἐκ γλαφυρῆς αἰεὶ νέον ἐρχομενάων, Let us now select a few of those passages in which Homer has exhausted the strength and copiousness of the Greek language, and has successfully made his own words like in nerve and sound to the things described. Ἠχῆ ὡς ὅτε κῦμα πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης, Il. ii. 209-10. Here the frequency of dactylic feet well represents the impetuous rush of the angry billow on the roaring sea-the recurrence of vocalic cæsuras exhibits the dash and splash of the wave upon the rocks-while the dull, heavy thunder of the deep is intimated by the unusual pause in the fifth foot. The last of these effects is even further increased by the employment of two petty enclitics to complete the dactyl-so that the emphasis is thrown with double force upon the two long syllables between which they stand. We need not allude to the full, nervous, and ringing sound which is given to the lines by the words that Homer has employed. Now let us see what our three champions make of these lines. Murmuring they move, as when old ocean roars, And heaves huge surges to the trembling shores: The groaning banks are burst with bellowing sound, The rocks remurmur and the deeps rebound. Pope. ii. 249–52. This won't do: there is not a bit of Homer in it. "Old ocean," as Pope rather familiarly terms the sea when lashed by the fury of the tempest-a liberty Homer never takes, much less at such a time-could dance to this tune with a cap-full of wind. This cannot pass. Deafening was the sound Cowper. ii. 232-4. That won't do: it is worse than Pope-because weaker, less rythmical and less elegant. There is no touch of Homer in it. "Some broad beach" for aiyiah syaλw-pugh! If this be translation then thunder may be rendered noise, and the sun a lard-lamp. Let us try again. As when loud-sounding ocean's stormy waves Munford. ii. 272-3 Infinitely better than either of the others. It is not Homer yet; but it is Homeric; and for fidelity, nerve, and truth is very far above either Pope or Cowper. We will test their respective strength again in another passage of like character. Ως δ' ότ' από σκοπιῆς εἶδεν νέφος αιπόλος ἀνὴρ, Ερχόμενον κατὰ ποντον ὑπὸ Ζεφύροιο ζωής, Τῷ δε τ, ἄνευθεν εόντι μελάντερον, ήτε πίσσα, Φαίνετ ̓ τὸν κατὰ πόντον, ἄγει δέ τε λαίλαπα πολλην. Il. iv. 275-8. Thus from the lofty promontory's brow Pope. iv. 314-19. It is pretty enough, and will do for Pope but not for Homer, it is as much like Homer as a Broadway dandy is like an Indian Chief in his warrior's arms. As when the goat-herd from a rocky point There is but little of the solemn gloom, and quickly darkening cloud of the original in this. The last line is miserable. The haina here is the white squall of the Mediterranean. If Cowper's pusillanimity had ever permitted him to go to sea out of reach of soundings, he would have learned something about storms, and would not have talked about a wind bringing "worst weather." That is a platitude of which even Apollonius Rhodius, or Silius Italicus would not have been guilty-much less Homer. We know no worse epic poets than the two referred to-bating Blackmore and Emmons. The first lines are well enough, though hardly good we hope to find something better. As when a goatherd from a lofty rock Sees o'er the deep a cloud, by west winds driven. Munford. iv. 370-3. There are two epithets added in this translation, which may be unnecessary, but certainly do not detract from the general effect. We would not moreover be so ridiculously exacting as to require a translator not to insert any thing of his own to fill out the lines. If we did, a translation of any author into verse would become an impossibility. All that we demand is that the force of the original be not weakened, or the sense perverted by these expletives. There is another passage in the Fourth Book of the Iliad very similar to those just noticed. It is descriptive of the appearance of Diomede, prepared in full panoply for war, and of the effect of his martial air and the dreadful clang of his armour, and then proceeds to liken the impetuous onset of the army to the war. Η ῥα, και εξ ὀχεων σὺν τεύχεσιν ἆλτο χαμάζε *Ορνυτ' επασσύτερον Ζεφύρου ὑποκινήσαντος Ποντω μὲν τὰ πρῶτα κορυσσεται, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα Χέρσω ῥηγνύμενον μεγάλα βρέμει, αμφί δε τ' άκρας Κυρτὸν εἶν κορυφοῦται, αποπτύει δ' ἁλὸς ἄχνην. Il. iv. 419-26. The closing phrase is a singularly bold and expressive metaphor-and spits forth the spray of the sea. Let us see what our agonista make of the whole passage. He spoke, and ardent on the trembling ground Pope. 474-83. This is a beautiful and spirited description, and one which we would fain quote further. But there is very little foundation for Pope's simile in the original. In the early age of a people, the language, the thoughts, the descriptions are eminently picturesque, and definite. This is peculiarly the case with the Homeric similes. They select a particular moment of time, and portray all that can be caught at once by a single glance of the eye, and might be represented in painting. The distinction between the provinces of the sister arts is hardly recognized as yet. Hence, Homer seldom introduces the origin and development of those senses in nature, which he employs for his similes, but represents the phenomenon in a single state already at its acme. In this present passage he does not exhibit the growth of the storm-the bright sky becoming gradually overcast-the sleeping waters first waking up with a gentle ripple-then playfully forming themselves into tiny breakers-the wind puffing fitfully-sweeping in hurried gusts over the deepswelling with a low, dull, rising murmur into a hoarse blast-chafing the sea, and lashing it into billows-the storm increasing the waves fretting and foaming, and tumbling over each other in mighty masses-tossing their wild locks to the winds,-bending over to the heavy plunge and shaking off the showers of spray, as the lion shakes the dew-drops from his mane. If this were Homer's |