they often consist of general Reflections, or Thoughts, which might be
equally just in any Person's Mouth upon the same Occasion. As many of
his Persons have no apparent Characters; so many of his Speeches escape
being applied, and judged by the Rule of Propriety. We oftner think of
the Author himself, when we read _Virgil_, than when we are engaged in
_Homer_. All which are the Effects of _a colder Invention_, that
interests us less in the Action described: _Homer_ makes us Hearers, and
_Virgil_ leaves us Readers." I have the Misfortune to be of a quite
different Sentiment. If _Virgil_ outshines _Homer_ in any thing, it is
especially in his _Speeches_. Which are all, so far as it is necessary,
adapted to the Manners of the Speakers, and diversified by their several
Characters. Nor do I know of any one Beauty by which _Virgil_ is more
peculiarly distinguished, than That of his Speeches: Considering the
Sweetness and Softness of some, the Cunning and Artifice of others; the
Majesty and Gravity of a third sort; the Fire and Fury of a fourth: In
which two last Kinds especially we have the united Eloquence of Oratory,
and Poetry; and read _Tully_ involved in _Virgil_. That the Characters
of the Heroes are more particularly marked and distinguished in the
_Greek_, than in the _Latin_, I readily acknowledge. In That the
_Iliad_ excels the _Æneis_; and, I think, in nothing else. And the
Controversy between these two great Poets Should, in my Opinion, be thus
determined: "That _Virgil_ is very much obliged to _Homer_; and
_Homer_'s Poems, upon the whole, very much exceeded by _Virgil_'s."
But I am sensible, that by arguing for _Virgil_ I have all this while
been arguing against my self. For the more excellent the Author, the
more presumptuous the Translator. I have however thus much to plead in
my Excuse, That this Work was very far _advanced_, before it was
_undertaken_; having been for many Years the Diversion of my leisure
Hours at the University, and growing upon me by insensible Degrees; so
that a great _Part_ of the _Æneis_ was _actually translated_, before I
had _any Design_ of _attempting the Whole_. But with regard to the
_Publick Office in Poetry_, with which the University of _Oxford_ was
afterwards pleased to honour me, (an Honour which I Now enjoy, and which
I shall Forever gratefully acknowledge) I thought it might not be
improper for me to review, and finish this Work; which otherwise had
certainly been as much neglected by Me, as perhaps it will now be by
Every body else.
It is to That renowned Seat of Learning and Virtue, (the Pride and Glory
of our Island!)
_----cujus amor mihi crescit in horas,_
and my Love and Veneration for which I Shall never be able to express:
It is to That famous University, I say, that I owe a very considerable
Part of my Encouragement in this Undertaking; tho' at the same time I
have great and signal Obligations to many _Others_, who were not only
Subscribers to it themselves, but Promoters of it by their Interest in
their Friends. With the most grateful Sense of the Favour, and Honour
done me, I return my _general_ Thanks to _All_ Those of the Nobility,
and Gentry, and all Others, who appear as my Subscribers: But These my
_especial Benefactors_ are desired to accept of my more _particular_
Acknowledgments. Even These (many of whom are Persons of Quality) are so
numerous, that to mention them would be to transcribe a great Part of my
List into my Preface: And Since I cannot properly name them _All_, I
think it the best Manners to name _None_. I wish for Their sakes, as
well as my Own, that, when they have read this Translation, they may
not repent of the _generous Encouragement_ they have given it.
One Thing of which, I hope, I may say; and That is, that _it is a
Translation_. And if it be; I believe I may add, that it is almost the
only one in Verse, and of a considerable Length. And this I am very far
from speaking, upon the Account of any great Opinion which I have
conceived of my own Performance. For besides that a Translation may be
very _close_, and yet very _bad_. Others could have done the same thing
much better, if they would: But they thought it either impracticable, or
improper. They have been so averse from the Folly of rendering Word for
Word, that they have ran into the other Extreme; and their Translations
are commonly so very licentious, that they can scarce be called so much
as Paraphrases. Whereas, were it practicable to translate _verbatim_ in
the strictest Sense; and yet preserve the Elegance, and Sublimity, and
Spirit of the Author, as much as if one allowed one's self a greater
Latitude: That Method ought to be chosen before the other. And in
proportion, the nearer one approaches to the Original, the better it is;
provided the Version be in other Respects no way prejudiced, but rather
improved by it: A Thing, in my Apprehension, by no Means inconceivable.
A Translator should _draw the Picture_ of his Author: And in Painting,
we know, _Likeness_ is the _first_ Beauty; so that if it has not _That_,
all the rest are insignificant. Draw _Virgil_ as _like_ as you can; To
think of _improving_ him is _arrogant_; and to flatter him, is
_impossible_. I have not added, or omitted very many Words: Many indeed
are varied; the Sense of the Substantive in the Latin, being often
transferred to the Adjective in the English; and so on the Reverse: with
a great Number of such like Instances, which it is needless to mention.
Yet many Lines are translated Word for Word: But, upon the Whole, to
give a tolerable, and yet a perfectly litteral Version, I take to be in
the Nature of Things absolutely impossible.
I am sensible too, as I said before, that it may be a true Translation,
a close Translation; and yet, after all, a very bad Translation. Whether
This be so, or not, is with all imaginable Deference submitted to the
Judgment of the World. To render the bare Sense, and Words of a Poet, is
only to paint his Features, and Lineaments; but to render his _Poetry_,
that is, the _peculiar Turn_ of his Thoughts, and Diction, is to paint
his _Air_ and _Manner_. And as the Air of a Face arises from a Man's
_Soul_, as well as from his Body; it is just the same here: Or rather,
This peculiar Turn of the Poet's Sentiments and Expressions _is it self_
the Soul of his Poetry: If we are asked what That is; the Answer must
be, if we may properly compare a _Mode_ to a _Substance_, that the Soul
of Poetry, like the Soul of Man, is perceivable only by its Effects;
like That, immaterial, and invisible; and like That too, immortal.
But then all this being taken care of, certainly the nearer to the
Original, the better: Nay indeed it is impossible to hit the Air right;
unless you hit the Features, from which the Air, so far as it relates to
the Body, rises, and results. Should my Translation be approved of for
the Spirit of Poetry; I should not be sorry, nay I should be glad, if at
the same time it served for a Construing-Book to a School-Boy. But still
whenever it happens (as it very often does, and must) that a close
Version, and a graceful Expression are inconsistent; the latter is
always to be preferred. A _less litteral Translation_ is very frequently
beautiful; but nothing can justify _an ill Verse_. In This Case, one
departs from the Original by adhering to it; and such an Author as
_Virgil_ might justly say of his bad Translator, what _Martial_ says of
his bad Neighbour;
_Nemo tam prope, tam proculque nobis._
For the Version would retain more not only of the _Beauty_, but of the
_real Sense_ of the Original; and so _upon the whole_, be more _like_
it: If it were a less faithful Interpretation of Words and Expressions.
Here therefore we can no longer pursue the Comparison between Painting
and Translating: When true Beauty is to be imitated, the Features cannot
be too exactly traced in the One, to make a handsom Likeness; but Words
may be too exactly rendered in the Other. Upon this Head I cannot avoid
transcribing a Passage from the ingenious, and (in all Instances, but
one) judicious Dr. _Felton_'s Dissertation upon _Reading the Classicks
addressed to the Lord Marquis of_ Granby. "When therefore ([18]says He)
you meet with any Expressions which will not be rendered without this
Disadvantage, the Thing to be regarded is the Beauty and Elegance of the
Original; and your Lordship, without minding any thing but the Sense of
the Author, is to consider how that Passage would be best expressed in
_English_, if you were not tied up to the Words of the Original: And you
may depend upon it, that if you can find a Way of expressing the same
Sense as beautifully in _English_; you have hit the true Translation,
tho' you cannot construe the Words backwards, and forwards into one
another: For then you certainly have translated, as the Author, were he
an _Englishman_, would have wrote." And since I have cited thus much
from That Treatise; I will borrow a little more from it upon the Nature,
and Difficulty of Translations in general: Because it entirely expresses
my Sentiments, in far better Words than I am able to make use of.
"[19]'Tis no exceeding Labour for every great Genius to exert, and
manage, and master his own Spirit: But 'tis almost an insuperable Task
to compass, to equal, to command the Spirit of another Man. Yet this is
what every Translator taketh upon himself to do; and must do, if he
deserves the Name. He must put himself into the Place of his Authors,
not only be Master of their Manner as to their Style, their Periods,
Turn, and Cadence of their Writings; but he must bring himself to their
Habit, and Way of Thinking, and have, if possible, the same Train of
Notions in his Head, which gave Birth to Those they have selected, and
placed in their Works." For the Rest, I refer my Reader to the
Dissertation it self; of which I would say that it is a most curious and
delicate Piece of Wit, and Criticism, and polite Learning; did I not
fear that (for a Reason which I will not mention) it would look like
Vanity in Me to do common Justice to it's Author. At the same time I
must acknowledge that the Doctor represents a Translation of _Virgil_
after Mr. _Dryden_'s as a desperate Undertaking: Which would be no small
Mortification to me; were not mine of a different Nature from His: Of
which more in it's proper Place.
Endeavouring to resemble _Virgil_ as much as possible, I have imitated
him in his _Breaks_. For tho' I am satisfied he never intended to leave
those Verses unfinished, and therefore he is in that Particular absurdly
mimicked by some Moderns in their Original Writings; yet _unfinished
they are_: And this Imitation is not (with Mr. _Dryden_'s Leave) "like
the Affectation of _Alexander_'s Courtiers, who held their Necks awry,
because He could not help it." For besides that a _wry Neck_ is one
thing, and a _Scar_ is another; _Apelles_ in a _Picture_ ought to have
imitated his Master's Imperfection, if he intended to draw an exact
Likeness, tho' his _Courtiers_ were ridiculous Flatterers for doing the
Same in their _Gestures_.
A Work of This Nature is to be regarded in Two different Views; both as
a _Poem_, and as a _Translated Poem_. In the one, all Persons of good
Sense, and a true Taste of Poetry, are Judges of it; tho' they are
skilled in no Language, but their Own. In the other, Those only are so;
who besides the Qualification just mentioned, are familiarly acquainted
with the Original. And it may well admit of a Question, to which of
these Species of Readers a good Translation is the more agreeable
Entertainment. The Unlearned are affected like Those, who see the
Picture of One whose Character they admire; but whose Person they never
saw: The Learned, like Those who see the Picture of one whom they love,
and admire; and with whom they are intimately acquainted. The Reason of
the first Pleasure is clear; but That of the last requires a little more
Consideration. It may all, be resolved into the Love of Imitation,
Comparison, and Variety; which arises from the Imperfection of human
Happiness; for a Reason which I have elsewhere[20] assigned. Delightful
therefore it is to compare the Version with the Original: Through the
whole Course of which Comparison, we discover many retired Beauties in
the Author himself, which we never before observed. Delightful it must
be to have the same Ideas started in our Minds, different ways; and the
more agreeable those Ideas are in themselves, the more agreeable is this
Variety. Therefore, the better we understand a Poet, the more we love
and admire him; the more Pleasure we conceive in reading him well
translated: As we most delight to see the Pictures of Those whom we best
love; and to see the Persons themselves in Variety of Dresses. Upon
which Account, I will be bold to affirm; that he who says he values no
Translation of this, or that Poem, because he understands the Original,
has indeed no true Relish, that is, in effect, no _true Understanding_
of _Either_.
It is indeed no less certain on the Reverse, that a Man is as much
provoked to see an ill Picture of his Friend, or Mistress, as he is
pleased to see a good one; and it is just the same in Translations. But
it is evident that the _bare Understanding_ of a Poet (as that Word is
commonly used) is not the _only_ Argument of one's _truly_ understanding
him: that is, understanding him as a _Poet_. Because what I have just
now said, concerning the Agreeableness of a good Translation, holds as
true, when it is from our own Language to another, as when it is from
another to our own. It may be presumed that _Milton_'s _Paradise Lost_,
being in _English_, is well _understood_ (vulgarly speaking) by
_Englishmen_. But notwithstanding That, were it possible (as I think it
is not) to have all That amazing Poem as well translated into _Latin_,
or _Greek_, as some Parts of it certainly may be; with what Pleasure
should we read it! And he who would not read such a Translation with
Pleasure, will, I believe, be allowed by all who have a right Taste of
Poetry not _truly_ to understand the Original. Besides what I have said
concerning the Delight arising from Imitation, Comparison, and Variety,
which respects the Relation between the Version, and the Original; the
Translator's Work, even to Those who understand the Original, is in a
great measure a _New Poem_: The Thought, and Contrivance are his
Author's; but his Language, and the Turn of his Versification, and
Expressions, are his own. What I have offered upon this Subject relates
to Translations in general: Of my own in particular I have nothing to
say, but what I have said before; which is to submit it to the Judgment
of Others.
In Pursuance of my Design of endeavouring to be as like _Virgil_ as
possible; I have chosen Blank Verse, rather than Rhime. For besides that
the Fetters of Rhime often cramp the Expression, and spoil the Verse,
and so you can both translate more closely, and also more fully express
the Spirit of your Author, without it, than with it; I say besides This,
supposing other Circumstances were equal, Blank Verse is _in it self
better_. It is not only more Majestick, and Sublime, but more Musical,
and Harmonious: It has more _Rhime_ in it, according to the ancient, and
true Sense of the Word, than Rhime it self, as it is now used. For in
it's original Signification, it consists not in the Tinkling of Vowels,
and Consonants; but in the metrical Disposition of Words, and Syllables,
and the proper Cadence of Numbers; which is more agreeable to the Ear,
without the Jingling of like Endings, than with it. The Reader may say,
To whose Ear is it so? To Yours perhaps; but not to Mine. And I grant
all This to be matter of Fact, rather than of Reason; and to be
determined by Votes, rather than Arguments. And accordingly a great
Majority of the best Genius's, and Judges in Poetry now living, with
many of whom I have frequently conversed upon this Subject, have
determined in favour of this way of Writing. And among Those who are
dead, the same was the Opinion not only of my Lord _Roscommon_ (to omit
others,) but of [21]Mr. _Dryden_ Himself; who was the best Rhimer, as
well as the best Poet, of the Age in which he lived. And indeed let but
a Man consult his own Ears.
_----Him the Almighty Pow'r
Hurl'd headlong, flaming from th' ethereal Sky,
With hideous Ruin, and Combustion, down
To bottomless Perdition; there to dwell
In Adamantine Chains, and penal Fire;
Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to Arms.
Nine times the Space that measures Day, and Night
To mortal Men, he with his horrid Crew
Lay vanquish'd, rowling in the fiery Gulph,
Confounded, tho' immmortal----_
Who that hears This, can think it wants Rhime to recommend it? Or rather
does not think it sounds far better without it? I purposely produced a
Citation, beginning and ending in the Middle of a Verse; because the
Privilege of resting on this, or that Foot, sometimes one, and sometimes
another, and so diversifying the Pauses, and Cadences, is the greatest
Beauty of Blank Verse, and perfectly agreeable to the Practice of our
Masters, the _Greeks_, and _Romans_. This can be done but rarely in
Rhime: For if it were frequent, the Rhime would be, in a manner, lost by
it: The End of almost every Verse must be something of a Pause; and it
is but seldom that a Sentence begins in the Middle. The same may be said
of placing the Verb after the Accusative Case; and the Adjective after
the Substantive; both which, especially the last, are more frequent in
Blank Verse, than in Rhime. This Turn of Expression likewise is
agreeable to the Practice of the Ancients; and even in our own Language
adds much to the Grandeur, and Majesty of the Poem, if it be wrought
with Care, and Judgment. As does also the judicious interspersing (for
_judicious_, and _sparing_ it must be) of _antique_ Words, and of such
as, being derived from _Latin_, retain the Air of That Language: Both
which have a better Effect in Blank Verse, than in Rhime; by Reason of a
certain Majestick Stiffness, which becomes the one, more than the other.
_Milton_ indeed has, I think, rather too much of This: And perhaps the
most ingenious Mr. _Philips_ has too much imitated him in it; as he has
certainly well nigh equalled him in his most singular Beauties. I speak
of this Stiffness only in some particular Passages, for which it is
proper: For Blank Verse, when it pleases, can be as smooth, as soft, and
as flowing, as Rhime. Now these Advantages alone (were there no other)
which Blank Verse has above Rhime, would more than compensate for the
Loss of that Pleasure which comes from the Chiming of Syllables; the
former, by reason of those Advantages, being, all things considered,
even more musical, and harmonious, as well as more noble, and sublime,
than the latter.
Upon Varying the Pauses it is to be observed, that Two Verses together
should rarely pause at the same Foot; for a Reason too plain to be
mentioned. I said _rarely_; because there is no Law so strict in Things
of This Nature, but that it is sometimes a Vertue to break it. And tho'
it be one great Privilege in this sort of Verse, to make a full Period
at the Beginning, or in the Middle of a Line; yet you may do it too
often. _Milton_, I think, does so; who sometimes gives you thirty, or
forty Verses together, not one of which concludes with a full Period.
But to return to our Comparison.
Tho' all This be rather Matter of Sense, than of Reason; yet I appealed
to the best Genius's, and Judges in Poetry; because it is a great
Mistake to think that all Ears are equally Judges. It may as well, nay
better, be affirmed that all Persons have equally Ears for Musick. This
Sentiment is not _purely_ Organical, and depends not _solely_ upon the
Mechanism of Sense. The Judgment has _a Share_ in it: Or if it has not;
there is (which amounts to much the same) so close an Union between the
Soul and Body of Man, as also between the Spirit and the Diction, which
may be called the Soul and Body of Poetry; that the Poetical Turn of any
Person's Mind affects the very Organs of Sense. Readers of vulgar and
mean Tastes may relish Rhime best; and so may Some even of the best
Taste; because they have been habituated to it. But the more they
accustom themselves to Blank Verse; the better they will like it:
_----Si propius stes,
Te capiet magis----_
After all, I cannot agree with Those, who _entirely condemn_ the Use of
Rhime even in an Heroic Poem; nor can I absolutely reject That in
Speculation, which Mr. _Dryden_, and Mr. _Pope_ have ennobled by their
Practice. I acknowledge too that, in some particular Views, tho' not
upon the Whole, This Way of Writing has the Advantage over the other.
You may pick out more Lines, which, singly considered, look mean, and
low, from a Poem in Blank Verse, than from one in Rhime: supposing them
to be in other respects equal. Take the Lines singly by themselves, or
in Couplets; and more in Blank Verse shall be less strong, and smooth,
than in Rhime: But then take a considerable Number together; and Blank
Verse shall have the Advantage in both Regards. Little, and ignoble
Words, as _Thus_, _Now_, _Then_, _Him_, &c. on the one Hand; and long
ones, as _Elements_, _Omnipotent_, _Majesty_, &c. on the other, would in
a Poem consisting of Rhime sound weak, and languishing, at the End of a
Verse: because the Rhime draws out the Sound of those Words, and makes
them observed, and taken notice of by the Ear: Whereas in Blank Verse
they are covered, and concealed by running immediately into the next
Line. And yet a considerable Number of Lines are not, in the Main,
Prosaick, or Flat; but more Noble, than if they were all in Rhime. For
Instance, the following Verses out of _Milton_'s _Paradise Lost_, Book
II.
_Of Heav'n were falling, and these Elements----_
_Instinct with Fire, and Nitre hurry'd him----_
taken singly, look low, and mean; but pray read them in Conjunction with
others; and then see what a different Face will be set upon them.
_----Or less than if this Frame
Of Heav'n were falling, and these Elements
In Mutinie had from her Axle torn
The stedfast Earth. At last his sail-broad Vans
He spreads for flight; and in the surging Smoke,_ &c.
_----Had not by ill chance
The strong Rebuff of some tumultuous Cloud
Instinct with Fire, and Nitre, hurry'd him
As many miles aloft. That fury stay'd;
Quench'd in a boggy Syrtis, neither Sea,
Nor good dry Land: Nigh founder'd on he fares,
Treading the crude Consistence----_
Thus again in the VIth Book.
_Had to her Center shook. What wonder? when----_
_Had not th' Eternal King Omnipotent----_
_And limited their Might; tho' number'd such----_
These Verses disjointed from their Fellows make but an indifferent
Figure: But read the following Passage and I believe you will
acknowledge there is not one bad Verse in it:
_So under fiery Cope together rush'd
Both Battles maine, with ruinous Assault,
And inextinguishable Rage: All Heav'n
Resounded; and had Earth been then, all Earth
Had to her Center shook. What wonder? when
Millions of fierce encountring Angels fought
On either side; the least of whom could wield
These Elements, and arm him with the force
Of all their Regions. How much more of pow'r,
Army 'gainst Army, numberless, to raise
Dreadful Combustion, warring, and disturb,
Tho' not destroy, their happy native Seat:
Had not th' Eternal King Omnipotent
From his strong Hold of Heav'n high over-rul'd
And limited their Might; tho' number'd such
As each divided Legion might have seem'd
A num'rous Host in strength, each armed hand
A Legion----_
In Short, a Poem consisting of Rhime is like a Building in which the
Stones are all (or far the greatest part of them) _hewn with equal
Exactness_; but are all of a Shape, and not so well jointed: _Every one_
of them, _by it self_, is better squared, than _some_ in another
Building, in which they are of different Figures. But tho' in this
latter there shall be a few, which, taken separately, do not look so
well: yet some _running into others_, and all being _better adjusted_
together; it shall not only _upon the Whole_, but with regard to any
_considerable Part_, by it self, be a stronger, and a more beautiful
Fabrick, than the former.