HORACE COMPRESSED.*

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XIV, Issue VII, 16 February 1895, Page 151

HORACE COMPRESSED.*

BY MR GLADSTONE. WE have already expressed our astonishment, which will be that of all men, at Mr Gladstone’s having brought oat a translation of Horace at all, at his age. It remains to consider his translation critically ; and in this task the critic is helped to some extent by the fact that Mr Gladstone has already, in his preface, provided a sort of apology for his book. He lays stress on what be considers to be the fundamental merit and object of his translation, justifying the addition of one more to the many English versions of Horace ; and that is its * compression ’: — * Without compression, in my opinion, a translation from Horace, whatever its other merits may be, ceases to be Horatian ; ceases, that is, to represent the original. It also ceases to represent the author, who, more perhaps than any writer among the ancients, has revealed his personality in bis works—a personality highly interesting, and yet more signally instructive.’ There can be no dispute about this attitude. Mr Gladstone definitely says that an English Horace must be * compressed ’ in order to be Horatian, and that nothing else much matters. But he gives these fmtber rules for the right translator :—

* He should largely abridge the syllabic length of bis Latin text; should carry compression to the farthest practical point, should severely limit bis use of licentious and imperfect rhymes ; should avoid those irregularities in the use of the English genitive which are so fatal to euphony ; even though he find any of them supported by the authority of Shakspeare (for example in Jthe line—‘Come, Cassius’ sword, and find Titinius’ heart ’); he should endeavour with whatever changes of mere form, to preserve in all cases the sense and point of his author, and should sparingly allow the perilous but seductive doctrine of free translation. At the same time he must respect the genius of the English tongue, and aim at the easy flow of his numbers.’ Here the canon seems to be somewhat qualified ; and Mr Gladstone’s refusal to adopt a form of English genitive approved by Shakspeare and exemplified in a line which is so far from lacking euphony as to seem to derive additional beanty from its grammatical structure, seems strangely inconsistent and self sacrificing. But the principle remains firmly laid down that compression must be carried * to the farthest practical point.’ and that the actual number of syllables in the Latin line must be * largely abridged.’ It is impossible to admit this principle. The English tongue, which is analytic and not inflectional like the Latin, bars the way ; and Mr Gladstone, in any case, ought to be the last man to try leaving out all possible redundancies of syllable or expression. Mr George Meredith might characteristically have attempted the task, but only at the cost of not respecting the genius of the English tongue ; he might have succeeded, but only with the same success which makes so much of his best work a failure. But Mr Gladstone ! The very idea is absurd. Nor can we allow that the leaving out of definite or indefinite articles (the Latin, of course, has none), or the clumsy construction of the following verses, for instance, are a * compression' which makes Mr Gladstone’s translation • Horatian ’— • whatever its other merits may be ’: — Then from one, his hostess pale. Couched in subtle tone Tempts his ear a crafty tale: ‘Chloe sighs, and Chloe dies. Dies for thee alone.’ Tells how nigh, through guilty dame (Silly Proetos won Cruel plot of blood to frame), Slander s breath had done to death Chaste Bellerophon. Tells of Peleus, how he fled From HippolytC. Nearly numbered with the dead: All that leads to passion's deeds, Many an artful plea. Deafer than Icarian seas. He doth nothing care. Thou, lest young Enipeus please. Please too much, so near to touch And to view, beware. The result is mere fog, and this is but a single instance. Nor is the ‘ compression ’ very clearly advantageous or particularly ‘Horatian,"whichcauses the omission altogether of the line— miseri quibus intintata nites-from Od. I. 5, of the reiterated * Postume’ in the famous * Eheu Fugaces,’ or the following verse with its footnote in I. 6 :— Diomed, by Pallas taught to thrust At gods, or Merion black with dust Of Troy, or Mars in coat of mail. To sing aright what bards avail ? (Footnote.— ln this stanza, which was very difficult to compress, I abridge Meriones after the manner of Diomed, and use both dissyllabically.) Without the footnote one would simply look on it as a clumsy and wooden verse ; but the deliberate purpose indicated in the note shows the spirit in which the thing is done. * Diomed by Pallas,’ six syllables, are counted as four, and ‘Merion,’ three, as two. A step further, and on this canon a poet might leave his verse to look after itself, and put his scansion and his rhymes, and even his sense, into an appendix. Nevertheless, when one looks at other aspects of Mr Gladstone’s translation than that on which be particularly prides himself, it is not unworthy of a brilliant Oxford scholar of the old school who has kept himself moving with the times. The translations, though frequently pedestrian, are always scholarly, and interesting to follow with the original; and the versification will often give points to any Liberal bard whom we can think of, including a certain expectant, or lately expectant. Laureate. Here, for instance, is a spirited version of Od. IV., 13 :— I.vcC! me the gods have heard. Made thee beldam at my word. Still a beauty, thou dost think. Saucy still for sport and drink. Though with creaking voice thou woo, Cupid lags: hath work to do With young Chia’s blooming cheeks. And her mouth that music speaks.

Obstinate he passes by Oaks dried up; he shuns thee: why? For he cannot wrinkles bear. Blackening teeth and whitening hair. Coan purples, gems that blaze. Will not bring thee back the days Writ in annals known but past, Of the time that fled so fast. Beauty, colour, gesture’s grace. All are gone. Not this the face. Not the passion-breather she Once that stole myself from me. After Cinara, thou wert great. Form and charm. But Cinara. Fate Quickly took, and left us thee Grey and worn facsimile. Old as a decrepit crow. That warm youths might see thee so. Scourging thee with laughter’s lash. Once a flambeau ; now an ash. It is difficult to believe that this could be the work of an octogenarian. Yet with the exception of one translation, published in 1859, this book is understood to be really new work. The critic is compelled to finish as he began on a note of wonder. ANOTHER WAY. + Much more amusing than Mr Gladstone’s * Horace/ and in reality not less scholarly, is the charming jcu desprit which Mr Charles L. Graves calls ‘ The Hawarden Horace/ and which Messrs Smith, Elder, and Co. have just published, or rather republished from the Spectator. Mr Graves’s versions of the odes are delightful—alike from the excellence of their satire and from the extraordinary ingenuity with which the original is adapted to the incidents and circumstances of Mr Gladstone’s life. What can be better than this ?— AD PUERUM. AD CYRILLUM FLOSCULUM. Persicos odi, puer, apparatus. Oriental flowers, my Cyril, Displicentnexae philyracoronee; (Save of language) I detest: Mitte sectari, rosa quo locorum Cull for me no costly orchid. Sera moretur. To adorn my blameless breast. Nor essay to deck my raiment With theblushing English rose. For its brutal Saxon odour Aggravates my Scottish nose. And this, again, is a clever reminiscence of • Laudabunt alii claram Rhodon aut Mytilenen ’: — AD MORLEIUM. Some say ’twas in Midlothian, and some there be who swear 1 first beheld the moonlight in the wilds of county Clare, Some say ’twas Tory Island, and some have little doubt ’Twas either Tara famed for song, or Dublin famed for stout. Some back the modern Athens, whose architecture’s grace In all its ‘ virgin purity ’ in memory I retrace. In fact, Mr Graves’s is one of the neatest of scholarly jokes, and one of the best collections of easy light verse, which we have seen for some time.

* The Odes of Horace. Translated inLo English. By the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, M.P. (London : John Murray.) t The Hawarden Horace. By Charles L. Graves. (London: Smith, Elder and Co. 1894.)