The Poems of Horace : a Literal Translation. By A.
Hamilton Bryce, LL.D. (Bell and Sons.)—We have no clear remembrance of Smart's translation, "carefully revised by an Oxonian," which used to figure in " Bohn's Classical Library ; " but if it had to be superseded, why not by something better than this ? In Ode i. 33, we find ' melior cum peteret Venus" rendered by "though sought by maid of nobler rank." Horace did not boast in this. fashion. The Venus was the charm of the young lady, not the lady herself. In the next ode, "dull earth and lively streams" suggests a contrast that the poet did not mean in " brute tellus et vaga flumina." " Stridore acute," in the same ode, does not mean "with piercing cry." The "stridor " is the " swish " of the wings. In i. 9, "coyly loath" is but a poor rendering of "male pertinaci ; " the finger does but feign re- sistance. In i. 13, "regardless of its grass" is correct enough for " graminis immemor," but very schoolboyish. Why not "forgetting its pasture " ? Or is this not literal enough ? Ths Odes 0/ Horace in the Original Metres. By the Rev. Philip E. Phelps. (Parker and Co.)—If Mr. Phelps thinks that he repro-
sents Horace's metres by his very cumbrous prose—no rhythm of any kind can be detected—he is sadly mistaken :—
"Foe convivia nos preens. virginnm Sectis in invenes unguilms acrium Cantamua mad, rive quid nrimus, Non praeter solitnm loves,"
is Englished thus :—
" We, the songs of the feast; strifee of the girls with boys (With nails par'd, not to hurt), sing in our leisure hours, Or, if e'er in your sports Cupid inflames our heart, 'Tis our natal levity."
"Not to hurt" gives a curious object-lesson in criticism. When the critic examines Mr. Phelps's book five hundred years hence- si percent libro fate superstiti —he will certainly say that "not to hurt" is a gloss which has crept into the text. Here is one of Mr. Phelps's Alcaic stanzas :— "Ever precedes thee Savage Necessity,
Bearing in brazen hand both the wedge and nails Fit for great beams of solid buildings, Likewise the hook and the lead all molten,"
How splendidly sonorous !
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