The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland (1753) Volume V Part 26

Mr. Spence in one of his chapters on Allegory, in his Polymetis, has endeavoured to shew, how very little our poets have understood the allegories of the antients, even in their translations of them; and has instanced Mr. Dryden's translation of the Aeneid, as he thought him one of our most celebrated poets. The mistakes are very numerous, and some of them unaccountably gross. Upon this, says Mr. Warton, "I was desirous to examine Mr. Pitt's translation of the same pa.s.sages; and was surprized to find near fifty instances which Mr. Spence has given of Dryden's mistakes of that kind, when Mr. Pitt had not fallen into above three or four." Mr. Warton then produces some instances, which we shall not here transcribe, as it will be more entertaining to our readers to have a few of the most shining pa.s.sages compared, in which there is the highest room for rising to a blaze of poetry.

There are few strokes in the whole Aeneid, which have been more admired than Virgil's description of the Lake of Avernus, Book VI.

Spelunca alta fuit, vastoque immanis hiatu, Scrupea, tuta lacu nigro, nemorumque tenebris; Quam super haud ullae poterant impune volantes.

Tendere iter pennis; talis sese halitus atris, Faucibus effundens supera ad convexa ferebat: Unde loc.u.m Graii dixerunt nomine Aornon.

Quatuor hic primum nigrantes terga juvencos Const.i.tuit, frontique invergit vina sacerdos; Et, summas carpens media inter cornua setas, Ignibus imponit sacris libarmina prima, Voce vocans Hecaten, caeloque ereboque potentem.

DRYDEN.

Deep was the cave; and downward as it went, From the wide mouth, a rocky wide descent; And here th'access a gloomy grove defends; And there th'innavigable lake extends.

O'er whose unhappy waters, void of light, No bird presumes to steer his airy flight; Such deadly stenches from the depth arise, And steaming sulphur that infects the skies.

From hence the Grecian bards their legends make, And give the name Aornus to the lake.

Four fable bullocks in the yoke untaught, For sacrifice, the pious hero brought.

The priestess pours the wine betwixt their horns: Then cuts the curling hair, that first oblation burns, Invoking Hecate hither to repair; (A powerful name in h.e.l.l and upper air.)

PITT.

Deep, deep, a cavern lies, devoid of light, All rough with rocks, and horrible to sight; Its dreadful mouth is fenc'd with sable floods, And the brown horrors of surrounding woods.

From its black jaws such baleful vapours rise, Blot the bright day, and blast the golden skies, That not a bird can stretch her pinions there, Thro' the thick poisons, and inc.u.mber'd air, But struck by death, her flagging pinions cease; And hence Aornus was it call'd by Greece.

Hither the priestess, four black heifers led, Between their horns the hallow'd wine she shed; From their high front the topmost hairs she drew, And in the flames the first oblations threw.

Then calls on potent Hecate, renown'd In Heav'n above, and Erebus profound.

The next instance we shall produce, in which, as in the former, Mr. Pitt has greatly exceeded Dryden, is taken from Virgil's description of Elysium, which says Dr. Trap is so charming, that it is almost Elysium to read it.

His demum exactis, perfecto munere divae, Devenere locos laetos, & amoena vireta Fortunatorum nemorum, sedesque beatas.

Largior hic campos aether & lumine vest.i.t Purpureo; solemque suum, sua sidera norunt.

Pars in gramineis exercent membra palaestris, Contendunt ludo, & fulva luctanter arena: Pars pedibus plaudunt ch.o.r.eas, & carmina dic.u.n.t.

Necnon Threicius longa c.u.m veste sacerdos Obloquitur numeris septem discrimina voc.u.m: Jamque eadem digitis, jam pectine pulsat eburno.

PITT.

These rites compleat, they reach the flow'ry plains, The verdant groves, where endless pleasure reigns.

Here glowing aether shoots a purple ray, And o'er the region pours a double day.

From sky to sky th'unwearied splendour runs, And n.o.bler planets roll round brighter suns.

Some wrestle on the sands, and some in play And games heroic pa.s.s the hours away.

Those raise the song divine, and these advance In measur'd steps to form the solemn dance.

There Orpheus graceful in his long attire, In seven divisions strikes the sounding lyre; Across the chords the quivering quill he flings, Or with his flying fingers sweeps the strings.

DRYDEN.

These holy rites perform'd, they took their way, Where long extended plains of pleasure lay.

The verdant fields with those of heav'n may vie; With aether veiled, and a purple sky: The blissful seats of happy souls below; Stars of their own, and their own suns they know.

Their airy limbs in sports they exercise, And on the green contend the wrestlers prize.

Some in heroic verse divinely sing, Others in artful measures lead the ring.

The Thracian bard surrounded by the rest, There stands conspicuous in his flowing vest.

His flying fingers, and harmonious quill, Strike seven distinguish'd notes, and seven at once they fill.

In the celebrated description of the swiftness of Camilla in the VIIth Aeneid, which Virgil has laboured with so much industry, Dryden is more equal to Pitt than in the foregoing instances, tho' we think even in this he falls short of him.

Illa vel intactae segetis per summa volaret Gramina, nec teneras curfu laesisset aristas: Vel mare per medium, fluctu suspensa tumenti Ferret iter; celeres nec tingeret aequore plantas.

DRYDEN.

--The fierce virago fought,-- Outstrip'd the winds, in speed upon the plain, Flew o'er the fields, nor hurt the bearded grain: She swept the seas, and as she skim'd along, Her flying feet, unbath'd, on billows hung.

PITT.

She led the rapid race, and left behind, The flagging floods, and pinions of the wind; Lightly she flies along the level plain, Nor hurts the tender gra.s.s, nor bends the golden grain; Or o'er the swelling surge suspended sweeps, And smoothly skims unbath'd along the deeps.

We shall produce one pa.s.sage of a very different kind from the former, that the reader may have the pleasure of making the comparison. This is the celebrated simile in the XIth Book, when the fiery eagerness of Turnus panting for the battle, is resembled to that of a Steed; which is perhaps one of the most picturesque beauties in the whole Aeneid.

Qualis, ubi abruptis fugit praesepia vinc'lis, Tandem liber equus, campoque pot.i.tus aperto; Aut ille in pastus armentaque tendit equarum, Aut a.s.suetus aquae perfundi flumine noto Emicat; arrectisque fremit cervicibus alte Luxurians, luduntque jubae per colla, per armos.

DRYDEN.

Freed from his keepers, thus with broken reins, The wanton courser prances o'er the plains: Or in the pride of youth, o'erleaps the mounds, And snuffs the females in forbidden grounds.

Or seeks his wat'ring in the well-known flood, To quench his thirst, and cool his fiery blood: He swims luxuriant in the liquid plain; And o'er his shoulders flows his waving main.

He neighs, he snorts, he bears his head on high; Before his ample chest, the frothy waters fly.

PITT.

So the gay pamper'd steed with loosen'd reins, Breaks from the stall, and pours along the plains; With large smooth strokes he rushes to the flood, Bathes his bright sides, and cools his fiery blood; Neighs as he flies, and tossing high his head, Snuffs the fair females in the distant mead; At every motion o'er his neck reclin'd, Plays his redundant main, and dances in the wind.

From the above specimens, our readers may determine for themselves to whose translation they would give the preference. Critics, like historians, should divest themselves of prejudice: they should never be misguided by the authority of a great name, nor yield that tribute to prescription, which is only due to merit. Mr. Pitt, no doubt, had many advantages above Dryden in this arduous province: As he was later in the attempt, he had consequently the version of Dryden to improve upon. He saw the errors of that great poet, and avoided them; he discovered his beauties, and improved upon them; and as he was not impelled by necessity, he had leisure to revise, correct, and finish his excellent work.

The Revd. and ingenious Mr. Joseph Warton has given to the world a compleat edition of Virgil's works made English. The Aeneid by Mr. Pitt: The Eclogues, Georgics, and notes on the whole, by himself; with some new observations by Mr. Holdsworth, Mr. Spence, and others. This is the compleatest English dress, in which Virgil ever appeared. It is enriched with a dissertation on the VIth Book of the Aeneid, by Warburton. On the Shield of Aeneas, by Mr. William Whitehead. On the Character of j.a.pis, by the late Dr. Atterbury bishop of Rochester; and three Essays on Pastoral, Didactic, and Epic Poetry, by Mr. Warton.

Mr. HAMMOND.

This Gentleman, known to the world by the Love Elegies, which some years after his death were published by the Earl of Chesterfield, was the son of a Turkey merchant, in the city of London. We cannot ascertain where he received his education; but it does not appear that he was at any of the universities. Mr. Hammond was early preferred to a place about the person of the late Prince of Wales, which he held till an unfortunate accident stript him of his reason, or at least so affected his imagination, that his senses were greatly disordered. The unhappy cause of his calamity was a pa.s.sion he entertained for one Miss Dashwood, which proved unsuccessful. Upon this occasion it was that he wrote his Love Elegies, which have been much celebrated for their tenderness. The lady either could not return his pa.s.sion with a reciprocal fondness, or entertained too ambitious views to settle her affections upon him, which he himself in some of his Elegies seems to hint; for he frequently mentions her pa.s.sion for gold and splendour, and justly treats it as very unworthy a fair one's bosom. The chief beauty of these Elegies certainly consists in their being written by a man who intimately felt the subject; for they are more the language of the heart than of the head. They have warmth, but little poetry, and Mr. Hammond seems to have been one of those poets, who are made so by love, not by nature.

Mr. Hammond died in the year 1743, in the thirty-first year of his age, at Stow, the seat of his kind patron, the lord Cobham, who honoured him with a particular intimacy. The editor of Mr. Hammond's Elegies observes, that he composed them before he was 21 years of age; a period, says he, when fancy and imagination commonly riot at the expence of judgment and correctness. He was sincere in his love, as in his friendship; he wrote to his mistress, as he spoke to his friends, nothing but the true genuine sentiments of his heart. Tibullus seems to have been the model our author judiciously preferred to Ovid; the former writing directly from the heart to the heart, the latter too often yielding and addressing himself to the imagination.

As a specimen of Mr. Hammond's turn for Elegiac Poetry, we shall quote his third Elegy, in which he upbraids and threatens the avarice of Neaera, and resolves to quit her.

Should Jove descend in floods of liquid ore, And golden torrents stream from every part, That craving bosom still would heave for more, Not all the G.o.ds cou'd satisfy thy heart.