tented myself with the ridiculous part of him, which is enough, in all conscience, to employ one man; even without the story of his late fall at the Old Devil, where he broke no ribs, because the hardness of the stairs could reach no bones; and, for my part, I do not wonder, how he came to fall, for I have always known him heavy: the miracle is, how he got up again. I have heard of a sea captain so fat as he, who, to escape arrests, would lay himself flat upon the ground, and let the bailiffs carry him to prison, if they could. If a messenger or two, nay, we may put in three or four, should come, he has friendly advertisement how to escape them. But, to leave him who is not worth any further consideration, now I have done laughing at him,—would every man knew his own talent, and that they, who are only born for drinking, would let both poetry and prose alone!' When we said, that Dryden was peculiarly fitted for satiric composition, we had forgotten, that the Ode to St. Cecilia, gave him the undivided' crown' of lyric poetry. He was himself sufficiently aware of its merits; and, if we can easily pardon Horace's boast of exegi monumentum aere perennius, we shall find no difficulty in admitting Dryden's honest egotism, in calling this a nobler ode than ever was, or ever will, be produced.* Nor were his cotemporaries deaf to its excellencies. It was first performed on the stage, the 19th of February, 1736; and, in the papers of the next day, it is said, 'there never was, upon the like occasion, so numerous and splendid an audience in any theatre in London.'t I am glad to hear from all hands,' says the author, in a letter to Tonson, that my Ode is esteemed the best of all my poetry, by all the town. I thought so myself, when I writ it; but, being old, I mis • Malone's Dryden, vol. i. + Burney's History of Music, vol, trusted my own judgment."* The spots of defect, in such a production, are so completely lost in the general blaze of excellence, that criticism, almost in vain, endeavours to point them out. Dr. Johnson thought the conclusion vicious;' as the music of Timotheus, which raised a mortal to the skies, had only a metaphorical power:' while that of Cecilia, which drew an angel down, had a real effect.' If a man can draw an angel down, in any thing but a metaphor, we have to unlearn our theology. Alexander was made to think himself a god; and the angel, to relish mortal music, must have been reduced to mortal feeling. It is not likely, that music ever did, in good faith, perform either of the feats here celebrated. But, if we must hypercriticise the passage at all, we should perhaps remark, that, though the whole is metaphorical, there is an absurdity in opposing the ideal action of a real being to the seemingly real action of an ideal being. It may be, that Dr. Johnson meant no more. Mr. Scott, again, is of opinion, that the praise of St. Cecilia is rather abruptly introduced as a conclusion to the Feast of Alexander.' Mr. Scott should have remembered, that the feast of Alexander was only subordinate to the praise of Timotheus; that it was the power of music, which the poet sang, in every stanza; and that, if Cecilia came the last, it was not because she was the least. There is one passage, which, we think, is more defective than either of the circumstances mentioned by these two critics. We cannot understand how the fiery dragon,' in the second stanza, could 'press to fair Olympia,' when riding sublime on radiant spires;' nor does it seem to be the happiest of thoughts, that this same dragon should stamp an image of himself' upon the same fair one. deed, the whole passage is rather incongruous and unintelligible : * Scott, vol. i. p. 411. In A dragon's firey form the god belied: And, while he sought her snowy breast; And stamp'd an image of himself a [dragon] sovereign of the world! It seems to be agreed, that Dryden gave to English literature its first specimen of legitimate translation. His predecessors had divided themselves into two opposite schools. The one,-forgetting, not only, that a Greek or Roman heroic line is more than a third longer than the English, but that, owing to its abundance of particles, our own language requires a third more syllables to express the same ideas,-rigidly insisted upon having less than word for word, by restricting the translator to line for line. The other,-ambitious to distinguish themselves from the servile herd of literal copiests, and forgetting, that to paraphrase, is not to translate, boldly abandoned the track of their author, and were satisfied to call that translation, which only looked like the original. The first only aspired to render an author merely not Greek or Latin; the second were determined to make English, let what would become of the original. Jonson was the founder of the literal, and Cowley, of the licentious school. Dryden strove to keep clear of each extreme; and, in general, he did not strive in vain. But it must not be concluded that he hit the medium, because he avoided the extremes. His early education was not calculated to render him a scholar: his subsequent avocations prevented him from supplying the deficiency; and when, in the course of his life, he had occasion to assist in the translation of TACITUS, he is said to have used a French copy, instead of the Latin. Mr. Scott,-who is too often disposed to extenuate, where he should condemn,-has more than hinted, that Dryden's lack of skill in the learned languages can be a subject of little regret. Adopting the author's own dogma, that it is better to be deficient in the translated, than in the translating, language, he speaks, with something like contempt, of analyzing sentences and weighing words; and, if Dryden has only caught the general sense and spirit of the original, he thinks we ought to be satisfied. We are satisfied to have a translation from Dryden, upon any terms; but, when we discuss his merits as a translator, we are not upon a question of gratitude; nor is our regret for what he has not done, at all inconsistent with our thankfulness for what he has. Nothing can be clearer, than that, when a person undertakes the task of translation, he should be able to speak, as nearly as possible, the same language as his author himself would probably have spoken, if he had used originally the language into which he is to be translated. Dryden himself gives us this wholesome rule; and yet, to excuse his own deficiency, he argues, (in the language of Mr. Scott, who seems to adopt the sentiment,) that, if the translator be but master of the sense of his author, he may express that sense with eloquence in his own tongue, though he understand not the nice turns of the original.' Now, that sense is completely locked up, by these nice turns; and in vain will any man think to become master of the one, without first possessing himself of the other, may possibly steal into the meaning, by the help of a version in some other tongue; and Dryden was, indeed, occasionally detected in this surreptitious mode of translation: but, at all events, the sense must be attained, either by opening the turn with the original key, or by picking the lock with a counterfeit. How else can a man pretend to know, either what he is to translate, or into what he is to translate it? He It is not 'with eloquence' alone,-but with elo quence and fidelity together, that we wish a translator to express the meaning of the original; and it is only as he approaches each of these qualifications that he can make any pretensions to the name. It is absolutely essential, therefore, that he should be equally adept in both of the languages, which he undertakes to exchange. He who understands the language to be translated, better than that, into which he is to translate, may make his version literal; but it can never be eloquent: and, when a man is better acquainted with the language into which he is to translate, than with the one to be rendered, he may translate with eloquence; but he must not pretend to fidelity. It is only when he is alike skilful in both, that he will be at once faithful and eloquent; and Dryden's greatest apologists have never made him an adept in any language but the English. We have already mentioned Dryden's design of translating the Iliad. Considering into what hands Homer was to fall, the reader cannot but rejoice (Dr. Johnson surmises) that his project went no farther.' Considering the respective powers of the two translators, we think, the reader cannot but regret, that they could not have changed hands. Dryden himself, in a letter* to Halifax, says, that, by his translation of the first Iliad, he found Homer a poet more according to his genius than Virgil;' and, indeed, we think no person can doubt, that Dryden is more like Homer than Pope,-and Pope more like Virgil than Dryden. It is of Homer, that Dr. Johnson would say, his flights are the highest; and of Virgil, that he continues longest on the wing. It is the Iliad, that we read with frequent astonishment;'-the Eneid, that affords us perpetual delight.' Mr. Scott has amplified the opinion of Dr. John * Scott, vol. i. p. 416, |