LEISURE HOURS OF A LONG LIFE.* TEE Master of Trinity
is almost the last representative of what was once an accepted tradition in English life. For whatever else the head of a great school, such as Harrow, could not do, it was always supposed that he could at least write Latin verses. Nowadays, however, we scorn such frivolous acquirements. A Head-Master must no longer toy with the Muses, but be what is termed "a great organizer," while in classical teaching we have set up a new Teutonic deity, called Alterthumswissensehaf I, which, as Mr. Gradgrind did, loves " facts " and " ologies," but understands nothing about poetry, so that a modern "scholar" knows everything about the defects in Horace's Odes, and all the proofs that Homer never existed, but could not for the life of him indite two stanzas to Lalage or compose a dozen Greek hexameters. But Dr. Butler belongs to an older breed. He has taken the classical writers—above all, their great poets—directly to his heart. He knows them, as they would be known, as close friends and with an intimate affection. They have been with him in his walks, the ever-present companions of his solitary hours, who spoke to him not in a " dead " but in a living speech, so that, whenever some passage of English poetry appealed strongly to him, to seek utterance for it in the language of Greece or Rome became habitual to him and almost a second nature. And the result is that this collection of translations, made during the long period of "over sixty years," possesses not only a literary but also a personal charm. Indeed, the author states that "his little book is meant to be in the main autobiographical," and he modestly commends it to his " Children, Grandchildren, and intimate Friends," as showing, at least in part, how he has employed the "leisure hours of a long and busy life." But although he expressly disclaims any attempt to "compete with the productions of such scholars" as Kennedy, Munro, Jebb, or Headlam, yet assuredly he often shows himself worthy to be of their com- pany. Tho rendering, for instance, of L Sam. xvil—the contest of David and Goliath—might justly take its place within the Epic Cycle. And what of this v,r taip, Sam epciOce Pyborro• ray bi p.m drXtfropor rpotrictnj [Moog, carts' 4gaaroo it KT tATCOV /Spot ap4o ' d al gcbco Messrs locirra, Kul air& rate' se troikhal fa' Wpm 4srehelvre, sal edit ovadrepos trueoryelpdpeueis Ova axe/ halkokurlir is Bigot/ airOxero, o.-.11X40, rirpnt, eritAerva di 4gratheloor araaktnr isuffalsrov. nariy &el rd ye ruirre dgeowidad, gpowro Atp4o lr xaovl Oat nr, d 8' lip xaeueaueu lacolths, Oh 5' 4YYLio Irap4 v, Onrouipoo • thie O par ofkoo 117gorbe Irpotal1Ar 11110,1, istoopon Co"eaeat. .
Might it not well pass muster for a fragment from the Odyssey P But in both these cases the success of the rendering is largely due, we think, to the fact that the spirit of the original is congenial to its new embodiment, for both the story of David's prowess and that of the Prodigal Son have just that simplicity and strength which exactly suit the Homeric style. Nor, indeed, can poetry ever be adequately transferred from one language to another unless the new form has, as it were, a certain natural fitness and congruity. And it is just in this respect, perhaps, that Dr. Butler's render- ings sometimes fail. For how can there be any such con- gruity between Hebrew psalmody and Ovidian elegiacs P No doubt there is a tempting similarity between the two balanced clauses of a Hebrew verse and the shape of an elegise couplet, but the distinguishing feature of the Psalms is unaffected grandeur, and that of Ovid artificial elegance, nor will these two things readily unite. Take, for example, Psalm xlvi. 1, " God is our refuge and strength," and when it is compared with- " Spes Deus et Column nostrum est men nubile surgunt, Partys adest mantis confugiumque nuts"— the very rhythm of the Latin seems incapable of sustaining the majesty of the thought, while frequently the ideas them- selves of the Hebrew poet seem entirely to evade reproduction in Augustan Latin, as in Psalm lxxx. 1, where the opening words, " Give ear. 0 Shepherd of Israel," become unrecogniz- able in "Pastor, ores audi ! " and " lumina cinctus " does not in the least suggest "Thou that sittest upon the Cherubim." Indeed, Dr. Butler himself holds, "as the result of a rather —.Some ',Blau Hourn of a Long 10. By H. Montagu Butler, D.D., Master Of Trinity College, Csrabrbigo. Csalbrzdge: Bones sad Bowes. rm. nstj
long experience," that "saerecIthemes" are often "not well suited " for the forms which be has tried, and from an artistic point of view he would have been wiser to use come selection in publishing his versions. For he can write really strong elegiacs, and on p. 152 he gives a singularly fine rendering of Wesley's paraphrase of Psalm xxxvii., while he joins to it some original verses of his own which are of striking power. But he has apparently a weakness for making experiments and then leaving the reader the difficulty or the delight of making his own choice. For in some nine or ten instances he has adopted the somewhat curious device of giving a number of versions of the same piece, and of "Crossing the Bar"—that notable puzzle for translators—be produces no less than twenty-one renderings, both in Greek and Latin, and in every variety of metre, with the result that an ordinary man becomes as bewildered by this profusion as if, after dinner, his host insisted on his sampling a score of vintages, when he would more happily enjoy a single specimen of the beat. Indeed, a poem so unique seems itself to repudiate treatment so miscel- laneous. For how can this lyric cry ever fitly be put into elegiacs, hexameters, or tragic iambics() And when we have accepted elaustra or cilia partite for "the Bar," it rather irritates to find that, under the compulsion of a new metre. it has turned into something like a piece of masonry and become gibes or abices. For ourselves, we should have preferred to read and enjoy the single version which begins
'Altos ele Mko,vm, ler tLmrn 'Eorrpor, sal oda aorta Tie' deeda ee'•
ediedObs dvarl • Aveiro, 31 edi dip"- alp; fipietorrot iroXitco•
That is a stanza which really makes Tennyson one with the old Greek lyrists whom he loved, and this reproduction of a song in The Princess—. As thro' the land at eve we went"—might make him doubt whether its original author was himself or Gatullue:— "Olim (vesper erat) per area Leta, Flavescentia messibue propinquis, Concore coninge cam bona vagabar Matures mambos legens ariejas. Burgh rixae aliquid (nen undo nature Vel (mare sale); mei uterque utrique Mixtis °setae lacrimis dabamus. Nam cum fills quaaepalta ventum out Pareula ilia, alias adempta in minis, Hilo ad tumntum bacentia infra, Parvulum a 1 temnIum bacentis infra, Mixtis escula lacriraie dabamus."
It only remains to add that this happy volume contains, not only translations, but also a number of original pieces, some fine bits of literary criticism, and many of those Inscriptions in writing which the Master of Trinity is almost unrivalled, while it may justly be said that, although the writer only offers his hook to his "intimate friends," whoever makes acquaintance with it will at once feel that be is anew associate of that goodly company.
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