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fall be the conclusion of the First Book of the Georgics. As. the passage is short, we shall give the translations of it fully.

« Ye home-born deities of mortal birth,
Thou father Romulus and mother earth,
Goddess unm'u’d, whose guardian arms extend
O’er Tuscan Tiber's course, and Roman 10 vers defend;
Wich youthful Cælar your joint powers engage,
Nor hinder him to save the finking age.
Oh! let the blood, already spilt, atone
For the past crimes of curlt Laomedon :
Heaven wants thee there, and long the Gods, we know,
Have grudg'd thee Cæfar to the world below;
Where fraud and rapine, right and wrong confound,
Where impioas arms froin every part retound,
And monitrous crimes in every shape are crown'd.
The peaceful peafant to the wars is prett,
The fields lie fallow in inglorious rest;
The plain no pasture to the flock affyrds,
The crooked scythes are straightened into fwords;
And there Euphrates her foft offspring arms,
And here the Rhine rebellows with alarms.
The neigbuuring cities range on several ades,
Perfidious Mars long plighted leagues divides,
And o'er the waited world in triumph rides.
So four fierce coursers ttarting to the race,
Scour through the plain, and lengthen every pace;
Nor reins, nor curbs, nor threat’ning cries they fear,
But force along the trembling charioteer."

" Ye greater guardian Gods of Rome, our prayer,
And Romulus, and thou chalte Vela, hear;
Ye who preferve with your propitious powers,
Etrurian Tiber, and the Roman towers;
At leaft permit this youth to fave the world,
(Our only refuge) in confusion hurl'd.
Let streams of blood, already spilī, atone
For perjuries of false Laomedon,
The Gods, oh Czfar! envy and complain,
Taat men and earthly cares thy tteps detain,
Where sacred order, fraud, and force contound,
Where impious wars, and tu nults rage around,
And ev'ry various vice and crine is crown'd.
Dishonour'd lies the plough; the banish'd swains
Are hurried from th' uncultivated plains ;
The fickles into barb'rous (words are beat,
Euphrates here, there war the Ger nans it reat.
The neigbouring cjies break taith's mutual bands,
And ruthless Mars raves wild o'er all the lands;



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As when four furious coursers whirl away
The trembling driver, nor bis cries obey ;
With headlong hafte, swift pouring o'er the plains,
The chariot bounds along, nor hears the reins."

O père des Romains fils du Dieu des batailles !
Protectrice du Tibre, appui de nos murailles,
Voita! dieux paternels! ô dieux de mon pays !
Ah! du moins que Cesar rassemble nos débris !
Par ces revers sanglant dont elle fût la proie
Rome a bien effacé les parjures de Troie.
Helas! le ciel jaloux du bonheur des Romains,
Cesar te sédemande aux profanes humains !
Que d'horreurs en effet ont souillé la nature,
Les villes sont sans lois, les terres sans culture.
En des champs de carnage on change nos guérets,
Er Mars forge ses dards des armes de Ceres.
Ici le Rhine se trouble, et la mugit l'Euphrate,
Partout la guerre tonne et la discorde éclare,
Des augustes traités le fer tranche les næuds
Et Bellone en grondant fe déchaine en cent lieux.
Ainsi lorsqu'une fois elancés de la barriere,
D'impetueux coursiers volent dans la carrière.
Leur guide les rappelle et fe roidit en vain,
Le char n'écoute plus ni la voix ni le frein."

Ye native Gods, ye rutelary powers,
Of Tuscan Tiber, and the Roman towers,
Thou Veita, and thou founder of our name,
Guide of our arms, and guardian of our fame,
Oh! let this youth a prostrate world restore,
Save a wrecked

and sooth to peace once more.
Enough, enough of blood already spilt,
Sates vengeful Gods, for Troy's perfidious guilt.
Aiready envious heav'ns thee Cæsar claim,
And deem the earth subdued below thy fame;
Where right and wrong in mad confufion hurld,
New crimes alarm, new battles thin the world,
None venerate the plough ; waste earth deplores
Her firains, to laughter dragg’d on diftant shores.
Far, far they fall from their unculrur'd lands,
And scythes transformd to falchions arm theirhands
There maild Euphrates, there Germania bleeds,
Death neighb'ring towns to kindred flaughter leads,
Mars arms the globe. Thus 1teed provoking steed,
Burlts from the bars, and maddens in his speed :
The guide went back, each wearied finew strains,
On flies th' infuriate car, and mocks the starting reii!


This passage, for the sake of greater d. ftinétness of compazison, may be divided into four parts : the invocation to ine Gods of Rome; the praise of Agustus, which that invocation introduces ; the picture of the late of anarchy, which his government was to remedy ; and the comparisop, by which the unbridled rage of that wretched state is represented to the fancy. The invocation is not only inelegantly, but unfaithifully translated by Dryden. The words which we have marked with italics in his first couplet, are wholly unjustified by the original. The Di patrii indigetes," undoubtedly meant only the native Gods of Rome, the local and national deities who more peculiarly presided over the fortunes of the city. No Roman could have had an idea that they were “ bome-born,'' still less that they were “ of mortal birth.Dryden, in the hafte of his tranlation, seems to have been led into this confufion by the mention of Romulus. But Romulus and Vetta are invoked, in addition to these national deities (whoever they were) and Romulus was himself confidered, not as “ of mortal birth,” but as the son of Mars. In the second and third verses, the language addressed to Velta is extremely unhappy. The imagination is diverted from the Goddess Velta, to the earth itself. In other parts of poetry, it may fometimes be allowed to substitute the name of the deities who are supposed to preside over certain objects, for the class of objects over which they prefide, as Mars for war, Bacchus for wine, &c. and the reverse. But this never can be tolerated in invocation, because prayer must suppose the personal existence of those beings who are addressed. The expreilions which we have marked in the fifth couplet are so inelegant, not to say vulgar, that they must displease and disgurt even the mere English reader, whose taste does not receive the additional dirpleasure, which arises from a contralt of the meanness of these lines with the majesty of the original. But all the lines which follow are truly Drydenic. They are nervous and musical, spirited and lofty. They have that air of immediately flowing from the inspiration of genius, which distinguishes their great author, and which no other English poet in rhyme has been able to copy:

The seader in this paffage, as in many others of Dryden, rises from the perulal with mingled feelings of admiration and regret; he admires the powers which can produce such excellence, and he deplores the hafte which could fuffer fo many errors to escape. For the memory and talents of Dr. Warton, we have great respect ; but we can scarcely prevail on ourselves to doubt, that our readers must think his translation the worit of those which we have laid before them. The first and third couplets of his version, are made up of as


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bad lines, as are perhaps to be found in the works of any verfifier of reputation; fince Pope has taught correctness to verlifiers, and fastidiousness to the public. The subsequent lines are a close and fecble imitation of Dryden, with the exception of one improvement. Dimonoured lies the ploughreprefents a triking idea of the original which Dryden had omitted, probably more trom indvience and hurry, than from want of talie. But this phrase, though not unhappy, is much inferior to the corresponding expressions of Mr. Sotheby. The first lines of the Abbé Delille's version seem to us to be as exact a representation of the sober majesty and finished elegance of the original, as it is pollible to give. In the fourth line, indeed, fome part of the ideas of Virgil are wanting ; but the fifth couplet is perhaps one of the most fortunate specimens of translation which literaiure can beast. The sequel is not alWisyš laboured with equal success. The line which we have marked, is an example of a simple and interesting circumstance being weakened by the common places of mythology. The merits of Mr. Sotheby's version may be, in a great meafore, climated by a review of the faults of his predecessors, which he has judiciously and happily avvided. To compare him to Warton would be injustice ; and we will presume to fay, that, without danger to his reputation, he may be compared with Dryden. In the invocation and panegyric he is superior; and though, in the description which follows, Dryden gave the reins to his natural genius for vigourous invective, yet the present version, without being weak, is more Virgilian than that of Dryden. There is one line of Mr. Sotheby, at which a reader of taste will perhaps pause. It is the fourth in this passage. The idea is rot in the original, and the expression and cadence are better suited to the antithetic poignancy, and balanced measure of Pipe, than to the general style of Virgil, or to the simple majeity and pious fervour of a patriotic prayer. The words are antithetically placed, without any opposition in the ideas; and, on the whole, it must be owned to be a line which adds more to the sound and pomp, than to the force or beauiy of the passage. Yet this criticism implies, perhaps, the greatest commendation that can be bestowed on Mr. Sotheby. A paffage, of which fuch a line is the chief blemith, must approach very near indeed to perfection. Dryden calls the Georgics, in his admirable Dedication, the belt poem of the best poet." There is nothing which entitles it more to this distinction, than the consummate art with which the poet has varied the style, which, though always perfe&tly elegant, and never deforined by those rugged lines, which so much abound in his model Lucretius, is yet extremely various. The kind


of ornament is varied with every variation of the subject. The descriptions are enriched by all the artifices of poetical language. But she clearness of statement is never obscured by profane ornament. Even the simplicity is not uniform. In pathetic pallages it is a soft fimplicity. In precepts it is a severe fimplicity, suitable to that character of gravity and authority, which becomes those who instruct or command. Per. ħaps there may be some critics so fastidious as to complain, that in Mr. Sotheby's version there is more uniformity and prodigality of adorned language, than the variety of Virgil admits. Whether this complaint be well or ill founded, the reader will judge from the following passages of the original, and the translation. They are passages of mere statement, in which Virgil seems studioully to have employed great frugality of ornament, or rather to have abstained from ornament aliogether.

Principio arboribus varia est natura creandis ;
Namque aliæ, nullis hominum cogentibus, ipfe
Sponte fuâ veniunt, camposque et flumina late
Curva tenent.”

Georg. lib. ii. v. 9-12.
“ At first, by various ways, o'er hill and plain,
Spontaneous woods clothed Nature's wild domain:
Some rise at will, and with uncultur'd shade
Fringe the wild Areams, and darken all the glade."

" Nec verò terræ ferre omnes omnia possunt
Fluminibus Salices, craffifque paludibus alni
Nafcuntur, fteriles faxofis montibus orni;
Littora myrtetis lætissima ; denique apertos
Bacchus amat colles, aquilonem et frigora taxi."

Georg. lib. ii. V. 109-113
“ Not every soil each varying race supplies,
Willows by ftreams, in marshes alders rise;
Wild athes wave bleak promontories o’er,
Gay myrtles blaffem on the lea beat fhore ;
Along the funny uplands vineyards glov,

And yews afcend 'mid tempests wing'd with fuow." SOTHEBY. The lines which are marked in the translation are indeed harmonious and poetical; but they are perhaps misplaced. They have more of the luxuriancy of a description of shomfon than of the sobriety even of a Virgilian description ; not to speak of the severe fimplicity of a Virgilian statement, The happy effect of an occasional abstinence from ornament is ** very remarkable in the last of these two passages. It is immediately followed by one of the most splendid parts of Vir

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