LETTERS TO THE EDITOR.
AN ITALIAN'S VERSION OF "HARK, MY SOUL."
(To THE EDITOR OF THE " SPECTATOR:1
SIR,—Anent the statement made by Mr. Gladstone in the pre- sent number of the Nineteenth Century, to the effect that the hymn, in our sense of the word, is almost unknown to the Italian language, it may interest some of your readers to know of an attempt made some years ago by an Italian to render for his countrymen some of our English hymns. In 1857 there was published at Turin a small book, called " Inni Cristiani," with the object, as the writer states, of "furnishing the Christians of Italy with a collection of devotional hymns, for use in public and in private." The book, which was published anonymously, was the work of Count Macs, an ardent Italian patriot, who, besides these translations, wrote some original hymns in Italian, and some spirited patriotic songs. His estate of Senate, near Ser- gamo, was for some time occupied by the Austrians, and he himself obliged to live in exile; but, under Victor Emmanuel, he was restored to his home and possessions, and, further, held some post under the Italian Government. He was a hearty admirer of the English, among whom he had many warm friends.
The "Inni Cristiani " consists of translations of English hymns; and among them is the one translated by Mr. Glad- stone, "Hark, my Soul," which I copy, for such of your readers as may care to compare the two translations. It will be noted that while the English translator has endeavoured to preserve the metre of the original, only departing from it in the use of dissyllabic rhymes, the Italian has allowed himself greater liberty. "Odi, alma mia! Ve"I too Signore! desso ! Del Redentor.la voce udir non brami ? Odi cid che Gesh ti chiede El stesso Povero peccator, dimmi se m'ami ?
I rotti ceppi tuoi son l'opra mia; Le tue membra io sanai piagate e rotte ;
To smarrito io riposi in Balla via, Ed in giorno per to cangiai la notte.
D'una madre l'amor fia the mai cease Verso il bambin ch'ella porto nel seno ?
Ma s'anche ii figlio ella scordar potesse, L'affetto mio non mai ti verril mono.
immutabil l'amor che in me si Berra ; Sublime pid cbe i pid sublimi in cielo,
Profondo pid ohe i pih profondi in terra, Forte coal che efida il mortal gob.
Presto ottermi della Mia gloria ii dono : L'opm compita della grazia, lo atesso Del ciel con te divider voglio ii trono : Povero peccator, di', m'ami adesso 2'"
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