than in the Anthology, yet it is the Anthology that has from time
immemorial notably attracted the attention of translators. It is indeed
true that the compositions of Agathias, Palladas, Paulus Silentiarius,
and the rest of the poetic tribe who "like the dun nightingale" were
"insatiate of song" (οἷά τις ξουθὰ ἀκόρεστος βοᾶς ... ἀηδών), must,
comparatively speaking, rank low amongst the priceless legacies which
Greece bequeathed to a grateful posterity. A considerable number of the
writers whose works are comprised in the Anthology lived during the
Alexandrian age. The artificiality of French society before the French
Revolution developed a taste for shallow versifying. Somewhat similar
symptoms characterised the decadent society of Alexandria, albeit there
were occasions when a nobler note was struck, as in the splendid hymn of
Cleanthes, written in the early part of the second century B.C.
Generally speaking, however, Professor Mahaffy's criticism of the
literature of this period (_Greek Life and Thought_, p. 264) holds good.
"We feel in most of these poems that it is no real lover languishing for
his mistress, but a pedant posing before a critical public. If ever poet
was consoled by his muse, it was he; he was far prouder if Alexandria
applauded the grace of his epigram than if it whispered the success of
his suit." How have these manifest defects been condoned? Why is it
that, in spite of much that is artificial and commonplace, the poetry of
the Anthology still exercises, and will continue to exercise, an undying
charm alike over the student, the moralist, and the man of the world?
The reasons are not far to seek. In the first place, no productions of
the Greek genius conform more wholly to the Aristotelian canon that
poetry should be an imitation of the universal. Few of the poems in the
Anthology depict any ephemeral phase or fashion of opinion, like the
Euphuism of the sixteenth century. All appeal to emotions which endure
for all time, and which, it has been aptly said, are the true raw
material of poetry. The patriot can still feel his blood stirred by the
ringing verse of Simonides. The moralist can ponder over the vanity of
human wishes, which is portrayed in endless varieties of form, and
which, even when the writer most exults in the worship of youth
(πολυήρατος ἥβη) or extols the philosophy of Epicurus, is always tinged
with a shade of profound melancholy, inasmuch as every poet bids us bear
in mind, to use the beautiful metaphor of Keats, that the hand of Joy is
"ever on his lips bidding adieu," and that the "wave of death"--the
κοινὸν κῦμ' Αΐδα of Pindar--persistently dogs the steps of all mankind.
The curious in literature will find in the Anthology much apparent
confirmation of the saying of Terence that nothing is ever said that has
not been said before. He will note that not only did the gloomy Palladas
say that he came naked into the world, and that naked he will depart,
but that he forestalled Shakespeare in describing the world as a stage
(σκηνὴ πᾶς ὁ βίος καὶ παίγνιον), whilst Philostratus, Meleager, and
Agathias implored their respective mistresses to drink to them only with
their eyes and to leave a kiss within the cup. The man of the world will
give Agathias credit for keen powers of observation when he notes that
the Greek poet said that gambling was a test of character (κύβος
ἀγγέλλει βένθος ἐχεφροσύης[78]), whilst if for a moment he would step
outside the immediate choir of the recognised Anthologists, he may smile
when he reads that Menander thought it all very well to "know oneself,"
but that it was in practice far more useful to know other people
(χρησιμώτερον γὰρ ἦν τὸ γνῶθι τοὺς ἄλλουσ).
Then, again, the pungent brevity of such of the poetry of the Anthology
as is epigrammatic is highly attractive. Much has at times been said as
to what constitutes an epigram, but the case for brevity has probably
never been better stated than by a witty Frenchwoman of the eighteenth
century. Madame de Boufflers wrote:
Il faut dire en deux mots
Ce qu'on veut dire;
Les longs propos
Sont sots.
In this respect, indeed, French can probably compete more successfully
than any other modern language with Greek. Democritus (410 B.C.) wrote,
ὁ κόσμος σκηνή, ὁ βίος πάραδος· ἦλθες, εἶδες, ἀπῆλθες. The French
version of the same idea is in no way inferior to the Greek:
On entre, on crie,
Et c'est la vie!
On crie, on sort,
Et c'est la mort!
Lastly, although much of the sentiment expressed in the Anthology is
artificial, and although the language is at times offensive to modern
ears, the writers almost invariably exhibit that leading quality of the
Greek genius on which the late Professor Butcher was wont to insist so
strongly--its virile sanity.
For these reasons the literary world may cordially welcome a further
addition to the abundant literature which already exists on the subject
of the Anthology. The principle adopted by Dr. Grundy is unquestionably
sound. He recognises that great Homer sometimes nods, that even men of
real poetic genius are not always at their best, and that mere
versifiers can at times, by a happy inspiration, embody an idea in
language superior to the general level of their poetic compositions.
English literature of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries abounds
in cases in point. Lovelace, Montrose, and even, it may almost be said,
Wither and Herrick, live mainly in public estimation owing to the
composition of a small number of exquisitely felicitous verses which
have raised them for ever to thrones amongst the immortals. Dr. Grundy,
therefore, has very wisely ranged over the whole wide field of Anthology
translators, and has culled a flower here and a flower there. His method
in making his selections is as unimpeachable as his principle. He has
discarded all predilections based on the authority of names or on other
considerations, and has simply chosen those translations which he
himself likes best.
Dr. Grundy, in his preface, expresses a hope that he will be pardoned
for "the human weakness" of having in many cases preferred his own
translations to those of others. That pardon will be readily extended to
him, for although in a brief review of this nature it is impossible to
quote his compositions at any length, it is certainly true that some at
least of his translations are probably better than any that have yet
been attempted. Dr. Grundy says in his preface that he "has abided in
most instances as closely as possible to the literal translations of the
originals." That is the principle on which all, or nearly all,
translators have proceeded, but the qualifying phrase--"as closely as
possible"--has admitted of wide divergence in their practice. In some
cases, indeed, it is possible to combine strict adherence to the
original text with graceful language and harmonious metre in the
translation, but in a large number of instances the translator has to
sacrifice one language or the other. He has to choose between being
blamed by the purist who will not admit of any expansion in the ideas of
the original writer, or being accused of turning the King's English to
base uses by the employment of doubtful rhythm or cacophonous
expressions. Is it necessary to decide between these two rival schools
and to condemn one of them? Assuredly not. Both have their merits. An
instance in point is the exquisite "Rosa Rosarum" of Dionysius, which
runs thus:
Ἡ τὰ ῥόδα, ῥοδόεσσαν ἔχεις χάριν· ἀλλὰ τί πωλεῖς,
σαυτήν, ἢ τὰ ῥόδα, ἠέ συναμφόθερα;
Mr. Pott, in his _Greek Love Songs and Epigrams_, adopted the triolet
metre, which is singularly suitable to the subject, in dealing with this
epigram, and gracefully translated thus:
Which roses do you offer me,
Those on your cheeks, or those beside you?
Since both are passing fair to see,
Which roses do you offer me?
To give me both would you agree,
Or must I choose, and so divide you?
Which roses do you offer me,
Those on your cheeks or those beside you?
Here the two lines of the original are expanded into eight lines in the
translation, and some fresh matter is introduced. Dr. Grundy imposes
more severe limitations on his muse. His translation, which is more
literal, but at the same time singularly felicitous, is as follows:
Hail, thou who hast the roses, thou hast the rose's grace!
But sellest thou the roses, or e'en thine own fair face?
Any one of literary taste will find it difficult to decide which of
these versions to prefer, and will impartially welcome both.
It cannot, however, be doubted that strict adherence to Dr. Grundy's
principle occasionally leads to results which are open to criticism from
the point of view of English style. A case in point is his translation
of Plato's epitaph on a shipwrecked sailor:
Ναυηγοῦ τάφος εἰμί· ὁ δ' ἀντίον ἐστὶ γεωργοῦ·
ὡς ἁλὶ καὶ γαίῃ ξυνὸς ὕπεστ' Ἀίδης.
Dr. Grundy's translation, which is as follows, adheres closely to the
original text, but somewhat grates on the English ear:
A sailor's tomb am I; o'er there a yokel's tomb there be;
For Hades lies below the earth as well as 'neath the sea.
Another instance is the translation of the epigram of Nicarchus on The
Lifeboat, in which the inexorable necessities of finding a rhyme to
"e'en Almighty Zeus" has compelled the translator to resort to the
colloquial and somewhat graceless phrase "in fact, the very deuce."
But criticisms such as these may be levelled against well-nigh all
translators. They merely constitute a reason for holding that Shelley
was not far wrong in the opinion quoted above. Few translators have,
indeed, been able to work up to the standard of William Cory's
well-known version of Callimachus's epitaph on Heraclitus, which Dr.
Grundy rightly remarks is "one of the most beautiful in our language,"
or to Dr. Symonds's translation of the epitaph on Proté, which "is
perhaps the finest extant version in English of any of the verses from
the Anthology." But many have contributed in a minor degree to render
these exquisite products of the Greek genius available to English
readers, and amongst them Dr. Grundy may fairly claim to occupy a
distinguished place. He says in his preface, with great truth, that the
poets of the Anthology are never wearisome. Neither is Dr. Grundy.
[Footnote 77: _Ancient Gems in Modern Settings._ By G.B. Grundy. Oxford:
Blackwell, 5s]
[Footnote 78: Βένθος ἐχεφροσύνης--the depth of a man's common sense.]
XII
LORD MILNER AND PARTY
_"The Spectator," May 24, 1913_
The preface which Lord Milner has written to his volume of speeches
constitutes not merely a general statement of his political views, but
is also in reality a chapter of autobiography extending over the past
sixteen years. If, as is to be feared, it does not help much towards the
immediate solution of the various problems which are treated, it is,
none the less, a very interesting record of the mental processes
undergone by an eminent politician, who combines in a high degree the
qualities of a man of action and those of a political thinker. We are
presented with the picture of a man of high intellectual gifts, great
moral courage, and unquestionable honesty of purpose, who has a gospel
to preach to his fellow countrymen--the gospel of Imperialism, or, in
other words, the methods which should be adopted to consolidate and to
maintain the integrity of the British Empire. In his missionary efforts
on behalf of his special creed Lord Milner has found that he has been
well-nigh throttled by the ligatures of the party system--a system which
he spurns and loathes, but from which he has found by experience that he
could by no means free himself. As a practical politician he had to
recognise that, in order to gain the ear of the public on the subjects
for which he cares, he was obliged to do some "vigorous swashbuckling in
the field of party politics" in connection with other subjects in which
he is relatively less interested. He resigned himself, albeit
reluctantly, to his fate, holding apparently not only that the end
justified the means, but also that without the adoption of those means
there could not be the smallest prospect of the end being attained. The
difficulty in which Lord Milner has found himself is probably felt more
keenly by those who, like himself, have been behind the scenes of
government, and have thus been able fully to realise the difficulties of
dealing with public questions on their own merits to the exclusion of
all considerations based on party advantages or disadvantages, than by
others who have had no such experience. Nevertheless, the dilemma must
in one form or another have presented itself to every thinking man who
is not wholly carried away by prejudice. Most thinking men, however,
unless they are prepared to pass their political lives in a state of
dreamy idealism, come rapidly to the conclusion that to seek for any
thoroughly satisfactory practical solution of this dilemma is as
fruitless as to search for the philosopher's stone. They see that the
party system is the natural outcome of the system of representative
government, that it of necessity connotes a certain amount of party
discipline, and that if that discipline be altogether shattered,
political chaos would ensue. They, therefore, join that party with
which, on the whole, they are most in agreement, and they do so knowing
full well that they will almost certainly at times be associated with
measures which do not fully command their sympathies. What is it that
makes such men, for instance, as Lord Morley and Mr. Arthur Balfour not
merely strong political partisans, but also stern party disciplinarians?
It would be absurd to suppose that they consider a monopoly of political
wisdom to be possessed by the party to which each belongs, or that they
fail to see that every public question presents at least two sides. The
inference is that, recognising the necessity of association with others,
they are prepared to waive all minor objections in order to advance the
main lines of the policy to which each respectively adheres.
The plan which has always commended itself to those who see clearly the
evils of the party system, but fail to realise the even greater evils to
which its non-existence would open the door, has been to combine in one
administration a number of men possessed of sufficient patriotism and
disinterestedness to work together for the common good, in spite of the
fact that they differ widely, if not on the objects to be attained, at
all events on the methods of attaining them. Experience has shown that
this plan is wholly impracticable. It does not take sufficient account
of the fact that, as the immortal Mr. Squeers or some other of Dickens's
characters said, there is a great deal of human nature in man,[79] and
that one of man's most cherished characteristics--notably if he is an
Englishman--is combativeness. In the early days of the party system even
so hardened and positive a parliamentarian as Walpole thought that
effect might be given to some such project, but when it came to the
actual formation of a hybrid Ministry, Mr. Grant Robertson, the
historian of the Hanoverian period, says that it "vanished into thin
air," and that, as Pulteney remarked about the celebrated Sinking Fund
plan, the "proposal to make England patriotic, pure and independent of
Crown and Ministerial corruption, ended in some little thing for curing
the itch." Neither have somewhat similar attempts which have been made
since Walpole's time succeeded in abating the rancour of party strife.
Moreover, it cannot be said that the attempt to treat female suffrage as
a non-party question has so far yielded any very satisfactory or
encouraging results.
Lord Milner, however, does not live in Utopia. He does not look forward
to the possibility of abolishing the party system. "It is not," he says,
"a new party that is wanted." But he thinks--and he is unquestionably
right in thinking--"that the number of men profoundly interested in
public affairs, and anxious to discharge their full duty of citizens who
are in revolt against the rigidity and insincerity of our present party
system, is very considerable and steadily increasing." He wishes people
in this category to be organised with a view to encouraging a national
as opposed to a party spirit, and he holds that "with a little
organisation they could play the umpire between the two parties and make
the unscrupulous pursuit of mere party advantage an unprofitable game."
The idea is not novel, but it is certainly statesmanlike. The general
principle which Lord Milner advocates will probably commend itself to
thousands of his countrymen, and most of all to those whose education
and experience are a warrant for the value of their political opinions.
But how far is the scheme practicable? The answer to this question is
that there is one essential preliminary condition necessary to bring it
within the domain of practical politics; that condition is that a
sufficient number of leading politicians should be thoroughly imbued
with the virtue of compromise. They must erase the word "thorough" from
their political vocabulary. Each must recognise that whilst, to use Lord
Milner's expression, he himself holds firmly to a "creed" on some
special question, he will have to co-operate with others who hold with
equally sincere conviction to a more or less antagonistic creed, and
that this co-operation cannot be secured by mere assertion and still
less by vituperation, but only by calm discussion and mutual
concessions. Marie Antoinette, who was very courageous and very unwise,
said during the most acute crisis of the Revolution, "Better to die than
allow ourselves to be saved by Lafayette and the Constitutionalists."
That is an example of the party spirit _in extremis_, and when it is
adopted it is that spirit which causes the shipwreck of many a scheme
which might, with more moderation and conciliation, be brought safely
into port. In order to carry out Lord Milner's plan any such spirit must
be wholly cast aside. Politicians--and none more than many of those with
whom Lord Milner is associated--must act on the principle which
Shakespeare puts into the mouth of Henry V.:
There is some soul of goodness in things evil
Would men observingly distil it out.
They must be prepared to recognise that, whatever be their personal
convictions, there may be some "soul of goodness" in views diametrically
opposed to their own, and, moreover, they must not be scared by what
Emerson called that "hobgoblin of little minds"--the charge of
inconsistency.
It cannot be said that just at present the omens are very favourable in
the direction of indicating any widespread prevalence amongst active
politicians of the spirit of compromise. The reception given to Lord
Curzon's very reasonable proposal that army affairs should be treated as
a non-party question is apparently scouted by Radical politicians.
Neither does there appear to be the least disposition to accept the
statesmanlike suggestion that in order to avoid the risk of civil war in
Ulster, with its almost inevitable consequence, viz. that the loyalty
of the army will be strained to the utmost, the Home Rule Bill should
not be submitted to the King for his assent until after another general
election. On the other hand, the "Die-hard" spirit, which led to the
disastrous rejection of the Budget of 1909, and was with difficulty
prevented from rejecting the Parliament Bill, is still prevalent amongst
many Unionists, whilst although a somewhat greater latitudinarian spirit
prevails than heretofore, the influence of extreme Unionist politicians
is still sufficiently powerful to prevent full acceptance of the fact
that the only sound and wise Conservative principle is to neglect minor
differences of opinion and to rally together all who are generally
favourable to the Conservative cause.
Moreover, it must be admitted that Lord Milner is asking a great deal of
party politicians. He points out, in connection with his special
"creed," that the object of Mr. Chamberlain's original proposal was
"undoubtedly laudable. It was prompted by motives of Imperial
patriotism." There are probably few people who would be inclined to
challenge the accuracy of this statement. He alludes to the
unquestionable fact that it is well for every community from time to
time to review the traditional foundations of its policy, and he holds
that, if the controversy which Mr. Chamberlain evoked "had been
conducted on anything like rational lines, the result, whether
favourable or unfavourable to the proposals themselves, might have been
of great public advantage." All these fair hopes, Lord Milner thinks,
were wrecked by the spirit of party. "The new issue raised by Mr.
Chamberlain was sucked into the vortex of our local party struggle."
Lord Milner, therefore, wishes to lift Imperialism out of the party bog
and to treat the subject on broad national lines.
Here, again, the proposal is undoubtedly statesmanlike, but is it
practicable? There can, it is to be feared, be but one answer to that
question. For the time being, at all events, Lord Milner's proposal is
quite impracticable. Whatever be the merits or demerits of the proposals
initiated by Mr. Chamberlain, one thing appears tolerably certain, and
that is that so long as Tariff Reform and Imperial policy are intimately
connected together there is not, so far as can at present be judged, the
most remote chance of Imperialism emerging from the arena of party
strife. It is true, and is, moreover, a subject for national
congratulation, that there has been of late years a steady growth of
Imperialist ideas. The day is probably past for ever when Ministers,
whether Liberal or Conservative, could speak of the colonies as a
burden, and look forward with equanimity, if not with actual pleasure,
to their complete severance from the Mother country. Few, if any,
pronounced anti-Imperialists exist, but a wide difference of opinion
prevails as to the method for giving effect to an Imperial policy. These
differences do not depend solely, as is often erroneously supposed, on a
rigid adherence by Free Traders to what are now called Cobdenite
principles. There are many Free Traders who would be disposed to make a
considerable sacrifice of their opinions on economic principles, if they
thought that the policy proposed by Mr. Chamberlain would really achieve
the object he unquestionably had in view, viz. that of tightening the
bonds between the Mother country and the colonies. But that is what they
deny. They rely mainly on a common ancestry, common traditions, a common
language, and a common religion to cement those bonds; and, moreover,
they hold, to quote the words of an able article published two years ago
in the _Round Table_: "The chief reason for the sentiment of Imperial
unity is the conscious or unconscious belief of the people of the Empire
in their own political system.... There is in the British Empire a unity
which it is often difficult to discern amid the conflict of racial
nationalities, provincial politics, and geographical differences. It is
a unity which is based upon the conviction amongst the British
self-governing communities that the political system of the Empire is
indispensable to their own progress, and that to allow it to collapse
would be fatal alike to their happiness and their self-respect." They
therefore demur to granting special economic concessions which--unless,
indeed, a policy of perfect Free Trade throughout the Empire could be
adopted--they think, whatever might be the immediate result, would
eventually cause endless friction and tend to weaken rather than
strengthen the Imperial connection.
Further, it is to be observed that whatever exacerbation has been caused
by party exaggeration and misrepresentation, it is more than doubtful
whether Lord Milner's special accusation against the party system can be
made good, for it must be remembered that Mr. Chamberlain's original
programme was strongly opposed by many who, on mere party grounds, were
earnestly desirous to accord it a hearty welcome. Rather would it be
true to say that, looking back on past events, it is amazing that any
one of political experience could have imagined for one moment that a
proposal which touched the opinions and interests of almost every
individual in the United Kingdom, and which was wholly at variance with
the views heretofore held by Mr. Chamberlain himself, could have been
kept outside the whirlpool of party politics. "A great statesman," it
has been truly said, "must have two qualities; the first is prudence,
the second imprudence." Cavour has often been held up as the example of
an eminent man who combined, in his own person, these apparently
paradoxical qualities. Accepting the aphorism as true, it has to be
applied with the corollary that the main point is to know when to allow
imprudence to predominate over prudence. It is difficult to resist the
conclusion that when Mr. Chamberlain launched his programme, which Lord
Milner admits "burst like a bombshell in the camp of his friends," he
overweighted the balance on the imprudent side. The heat with which the
controversy has been conducted, and which Lord Milner very rightly
deplores, must be attributed mainly to this cause rather than to any
inherent and, to a great extent, unavoidable defects in the party
system.
But in spite of all these difficulties and objections, Lord Milner and
those who hold with him may take heart of grace in so far as their
campaign against the extravagances of the party system is concerned. It
may well be that no special organisation will enable the non-party
partisans to occupy the position of umpires, but the steady pressure of
public opinion and the stern exposure of the abuses of the party system
will probably in time mitigate existing evils, and will possibly in
some degree purge other issues, besides those connected with foreign
affairs, from the rancour of the party spirit. As a contribution to this
end Lord Milner's utterances are to be heartily welcomed.
[Footnote 79: This statement is incorrect. The saying quoted above
occurs in Mr. J.R. Lowell's address at the memorial meeting to Dean
Stanley, Dec. 13, 1881. He introduces it as "a proverbial phrase which
we have in America and which, I believe, we carried from England."]
XIII
THE FRENCH IN ALGERIA[80]
_"The Spectator," May 31, 1913_