19 MARCH 1831, Page 17

Shall we be thought very heterodox indeed, if we tell

the world that the news of a new translation of HOMER made but little sensation in our classical bosoms? "The blind old man of rocky Chios" was a spirited balladmonger in his day ; and we are not surprised that he was a favourite with the girls of that island, and that they sorrowed greatly when the infirmities of age pre- vented him from taking the lead, like NEIL Gow, in the orchestra -at the Chian Almaas. A finer or more musical old savage than bonus Homerus never existed, He was animated by the very spirit of song : his language was mellifluous, and his invention, dealing with the subjects he was familiar with—such as battles, temples, priests, and chiefs—was copious. But neither he nor any other mortal ever so far anticipated posterity as to adapt his works altogether to its taste. After the lapse of ages, manners and senti- ments are so differently modified, that nothing but supereminent genius, combined with ancient prejudices, can preserve the mere existence of a work; and nothing on earth can retain an author in popular and general usage. Men must be judged by their practice. The praise of HOMER is loudly sung by persons who never look at him. npvee think of him, never allude to him, and who, if they wish for a literary treat, take not up the classical epic, but the popular novel of the day. To read HOMER now, is to be learned, sage, classical : to have read him or heard him, when he was a living poet, or at least living in the hearts of his country- men, was a study of the same character as one of WALTER SCOTT'S latest novels, or a famous song or satire of THOMAS Moona. If we were to rake up mummies and invite them to dinner, we should be doing something like that which the scholars of the present day do when they confine their 'solemn attention to HOMER, and con- temn the ignorant people for doing precisely what the people of Homaa's day did—namely, run after the genius which knew how to adapt itself to the spirit of its own times, or, in other words, which is altogether of and in the age it treats of. What are such names as Xanthus, Lycia, or Phrygia to us ?—but to the hearers of HOMER they were as well known and as much household words as the Medway, Yorkshire, or the Bay of Dublin. HOMER, to the Greeks, was the most homely or familiar of writers—like Blind HARRY or GAw,tist DOUGLAS to a Scotch peasant : hut his translators are all solemn, stilted, using far-fetched expressions, and giving no idea of the elastic vigour and playful strength of the old warrior-bard.

Look into the composition of Homilies poems,—we find a lively description of combats, of sports, and of the rude characters en- gaged in them ; but neither in the writer nor the writing is there anything to mark an advance beyond the earliest and rudest state of civilization. Every thing is physical—prowess is their sole ex-

cellence—a boxing-match is Homeric ; and if it has not been de- scribed by HOMER, it is, by his imitator VIRGIL. The cutting down of an enemy is as an achievement worthy the interference of the Gods themselves,—who are indeed very mortals in all but their immortality. History—and HOMER is a mere history with embel- lishments—in this early stage consists of merely a series of single combats, in which there is nothing but chivalry, without the gal- lantry which gives it more than half its worth. The lliad was written to be sung or chanted in some sort of recitative ; and thus the repetitions, which are now intolerable in a poem, might come in well, like the burden of a song,—similar repetitions, having a similar origin, may be seen in the Scotch ballads : so that may have been an appropriate ornament at the time, which has become' now a barbarism.

All the circumstances which diminish the value of HOMER as a relic of antiquity, much more diminish the value of a translation. Antique propriety becomes modern absurdity. The idea of either COWPER'S or SOTHEBY'S translations being sung, is a proposition simply cal- culated to excite inextinguishable laughter. That they ever were, or ever are to be read through, can only be out of respect to tra- ditional fame, which makes so many blunders in other respects. Are we not obliged to pick and choose, and prune and pare, our own SHANSPEARE, who lived only three hundred years ago ? and yet we expect to find HOMER, who lived nearly three thousand years ago, readable, and that in an idiom utterly unadapted to the pecu- liarities of the original! We are strangely blind to the real nature of events, when they are veiled by some ancient and venerable prejudice. A scholar, who could not write three lines of his native language, and who in general knowledge does not know a hawk from a hand-saw, may pro- cure, by the lection and commentation of the remaining ballads of an itinerant genius, the very highest reputation for learning; and if he play his cards well, may end in being a bishop, yea an arch- bishop, and a peer ! If the same individual had a turn for popu- lar writing, and had written a series of spirit-stirring ballads, which had delighted the whole people, he must he content to be thought an ingenious fellow, and to make a good thing by the sale of his verse. The lliad and Odyssey, whether written by one man, or by fifty, as has been maintained, are no doubt wonderful poems for their time ; but that they should be now deemed as indispensables in education, and that the scanning and spelling and pronouncing these old songs should be the highest employment of modern scholarship, is most assuredly a fine example of the influence of reputation and the force of the example of our forefathers.

Since the world does not agree with us, and considers a translation of HOMER a necessary addition to a library, it cannot do better than applopriate the respectable version of Mr. SOTHEBY. He is far more intelligible than CuArmaN, who is as. obsolete as the original, but whom the Elizabethans pretend to glory in ; he is more faithful than POPE, and more harmonious than COWPER ; and, altogether, contains as little of the bald and the uncouth as most translations. We will give the character and speech of Thersites as an example. The part of Thersites is a favourite part with the commentators, glad to discover some- thing like the play and variety of modern invention in the exhibi.- tion of ancient and bygone manners.

"They met—all kept their stations, silent all, Save loud invectives from Thersites' brawl, Still jibing, still loquacious, right or wrong, Still sharp'aing against kings his serpent tongue, Still prompt if aught unseemly fed the jest To give the vulgar laugh a keener zest. Foulest of form the wretch to Ilion came,

One eye was squinting, and one leg was lame;

The gibbous load that either shoulder prest To close contraction pincli'd his pointed breast; And on his sharp convexity of head Stray hairs, like wool, were here and there outspread : His bitter joy Ulysses to defame, Or dim the lustre of Pelides' name.

Now in shrill accents his malicious tongue

Its sharpest venom on Atrides flung, While all th' indignant host, with rage inflam'd,

Glow'd, as the loud maligner thus- exclaim'd

" Whence thy complaint ? What, Atreus' son, thy will r

Unnumber'd treasures all thy tents o'crfill.

Selected beauties, each a city's pride, We, by our valour, for thy choice provide ; Yet seek'st thou gold, more gold, those heaps to raise, That for his ransom'd son the Trojan pays? Some, whom this conquering arm shall captive lead, Or other Argive doom'd for thee to bleed.

Seek'st thou a fresher Fair to yield delight Hid in thy tent apart from public sight ; For ill beseems the guardian of our host, By vile example, to corrupt us most.

"'Oh, Argive women, Argive men no more : Let the Fleet speed us to our native shore ; Leave him, unsated here, though gorg'd with spoil,. To learn, if gain'd, or not, by Grecian toil. His was the outrage, he Pelides sham'd, o-

4 A warrior, far o'er him, for valour fam'd:

His now the vaunt to guard Briseis' charms, • Reft by his rapine from that Hero's arms : A Hero—no ! fear chains Achilles' force, Or this last deed had clos'd thy shameful course !' "