Miscellany within the last eighteen months. No one can doubt the utility of a regular monthly Catholic publication, dedicated, as is yours, to the purposes of general literature, as far as it can be brought to bear upon our religious and political situation in the world; but devoted in a particular manner to the service of religion, to the upholding of order, the inculcation of morality, and the diffusion of honest and legitimate principles. It is with considerable satisfaction that I have observed several of your writers to step out of the beaten path of theological discussion, into the more flowery and inviting regions of general literature. Amongst others, permit me, without disparagement of the rest, particularly to notice the critiques upon Pindar and upon Gray. It has occurred to me, that a few observations upon the Odes of Horace, somewhat in the same style, as far as my poor abilities can reach it, may not be unacceptable to many of your readers. Such as are still pursuing their classical career, may possibly find in these observations something-without vanity be it spoken-to inform their judgments, or direct their tastes; and those who have been long acquainted with that fascinating author, may perhaps be induced, without regret, to cast a retrospective glance upon those gems of antique literature, which in early years so captivated their youthful imaginations by the brilliancy and beauty of their appearance. To me the task cannot but prove particularly grateful. The Odes of Horace are comprised in five books, for the book of Epodes I shall consider as constituting the fifth of Odes; and the number of different species of metrical composition is, in all, fifteen: these I shall consider separately, endeavouring to point out the most striking passages and beauties in the Odes of each measure. The first Ode of the first book-I use Knox's edition-consists of lines which are uniformly of the same construction : Mæcenas, atavis edite regibus, O et præsidium, et dulce decus meum This measure is at no time very harmonious, and appears, if we may judge from the little use which he has made of it, to have been no favourite of the poet's. It is, however, remarkable that the three Odes, which alone consist of this verse, are dedicated to what we must suppose to have been no trifle in our author's eyes-the celebration of poetic fame. In the first is expressed a pretended apology to Mæcenas for the writer's devotion to the Muses, and may be epitomised as follows: "The charioteer delights in the race, the farmer in the cultivation of his estate, the merchant in traversing the sea for traffic, the voluptuary in gaily quaffing off his wine, the soldier in all the noise and circumstance' of war, the hunter in the riot of the chase; and of these not one can, by any means, be induced to relinquish his favourite pursuit to follow any other; so I, in the same manner, place all my glory in my lyric fame. : Quod si me Lyricis vatibus inseres Place me 'mid lyric bards, I rise And strike with crown sublime the skies! Over so slender a subject the " Lyric Bard" has contrived to throw all the splendour and graces of diction. The ideas expressed would seem, from their nature, not to admit of elevation—if anything can be said to be incapable of elevation in the mind of a poet-but, to delight in the race, becomes: -"To have collected, or rather to have become covered with Olympic dust," its successful termination is "The boundary cleared with glowing wheels," from their rapidity: a tempest is expressed by "The Afric (wind) struggling with the Icarian waves;" warlike music by "The trumpet's sound commingled with the clarion;" hunting by, "Whether the deer be seen by faithful hounds, or Marcian boar burst through the tapering toils;" lyric poetry by, "The cool grove, and the light dances of the nymphs with the satyrs ;" and success in lyric poetry by, "If neither Euterpe withhold her pipe, nor Polyhymnia refuse to yield her lute." Upon the whole, therefore, this ode cannot be said to be deficient in poetic ornament, although it may not particularly excel, or possess any very striking passage. The seventh ode of the fourth book, to which I now turn, in order that the last of the three may be afterwards considered with the greater pleasure, is principally an encomium of poetry. The Muses are asserted to possess more power to bestow immortality than marble busts or statues, or even splendid and glorious atchievements; "indeed it is to the Muses alone that former heroes and illustrious men are indebted for their present fame." Horace is frequently distinguished for simplicity united with greatness, and also for sentences which, on account of their fulness of sense, and brevity of expression, are casily adopted as a species of proverb. Of each of these kinds we have an instance in the present ode. Speaking of two eminent artists, one a painter, and the other a sculptor, he says: "Hic saxo, liquidis ille coloribus Solers nunc hominem ponere, nunc Deum!" In marble this, and that in colours bright The simplicity of the expression in the second line cannot, perhaps be exceeded, whilst at the same time it seems to possess a majesty very nearly approaching the sublime. Of the second kind we have: "Dignum laude virum Musa vetat mori," A worthy man the Muse forbids to die, I hasten to the twenty-fourth and last ode of book the third, which, however much we may lament the vanity, if vanity it was, by which it was dictated, must be acknowledged to possess considerable merit. It is fortunate that Ovid has left us, at the close of his Metamorphoses, a few lines upon the same subject, or to speak more correctly, upon one exactly similar-the immortality of his work and fame: a comparison of the two will best demonstrate the superiority of Horace. The thoughts of both are nearly the same. Ovid may be thus abridged : "I have written a work which nothing can destroy; not even time. I care not for death, for my better part shall live, and my name shall never be destroyed. I shall be read wherever the Roman power extends, and I shall live for ever in fame." The scope of Horace may be thus expressed : "I have written a work which nothing can destroy, not even time. I shall not all perish; great part of me shall escape death: my fame shall continually increase, whilst the Roman empire lasts. I shall be celebrated in my native country, for having first applied the Æolic song to Latin measures." The difference in the outline is not great. I shall take the liberty of quoting both, that the reader may observe how far each has ornamented his subject. OVID. Jamque opus exegi, quod nec Jovis ira, nec ignis, Nec poterit ferrum, nec edax abolere vetustas. Jus habet, incerti spatium mihi finiat ævi: e. M. VOL. VIII.-NO, 67. D Astra ferar: nomenque erit indelebile nostrum. "I have completed a work, which, not the ire of Jove, nor fire, nor sword, nor wasting time will e'er be able to destroy. Yes, whenever it will, let that day, which possesses power only over this body finish for me the period of uncertain life; in my better part, however, I shall be borne immortal above the exalted stars, and my name will be indelible, and wherever the Roman power extends through conquered lands, I shall be read; and if the presages of prophets possess anything of truth, I shall live in fame throughout all ages.' HORACE. Exegi monumentum ære perennius Regalique situ Pyramidum altius Quod non imber edax, non Aquilo impotens Possit diruere, aut innumerabilis Annorum series, et fuga temporum. Non omnis moriar; multaque pars mei Lauro cinge volens Melpomene comam. "I have completed a monument more lasting than brass, and more lofty than the regal structure of the Pyramids; which not the wasting storm, nor violent Aquilo can destroy, or an innumerable series of years, and the flight of time. I shall not all perish; and great part of me will escape Libitina: I shall continually increase, still fresh in after praise; while the high priest climbs the capitol with the silent virgin. Where the violent Aufidus roars,—and where Daunus, poor of rivers, once ruled his rustic people, I, great from obscurity, shall be celebrated for having first transferred the Æolian song to Italian measures. Forgive, O Melpomene, my boldness, acquired by merit, and crown without reluctance my head with the Delphic laurel." The translations are literal, that reader may be enabled to judge for himself, and the passages marked by italics, are those which to me appear excellent in each. It will be seen that Ovid every deals more in general ideas, Horace in particular circumstances, and that, where the same thought is expressed by both, the latter has, in general, a decided advantage. The metaphor of a monument in Horace is well sustained, and is far superior to the word opus. As Ovid does not here employ a figure, he has unfortunately brought into collision the idea of the materials upon which his work was written, and of fire and the sword, and even of the thunder-bolt, (non Jovis ira), but Horace has avoided the incongruity: we can easily imagine a monument upon which rain and wind can make no impression; but papyrus or parchment are not calculated to withstand the action of fire, or the edge of the sword; and "non Jovis ira" appears extremely injudidicious in a work where contempt of the power of the gods is so often visited with vengeance. The epithet "edax," as applied to "vetustas" is mere common-place, but as employed by Horace is a real beauty; for, to become acquainted with the wasting power of rain requires attention and observation; that of time is proverbial. Ovid, however, has evidently the advantage when he speaks of the day of his death, and his resignation to it: the passage possesses even a considerable degree of pathos, which is not to be found in the " non omnis moriar" of Horace but who does not admire the :: -- This is, indeed, the gem of the poem, and that which gives it all its value. Instead of the Roman empire, Horace places before our eyes one of the most remarkable circumstances connected with that empire, the monthly sacrifice in the capitol; and not the sacrifice alone, but the very persons about to perform it, in such a position, that the reader must know that they are about to perform it. The reader might almost imagine that he has the capitol in view, that he beholds the Pontifex cum tacitâ virgine, the high priest with the silent virgin ascending slowly and solemnly the hundred steps of the lofty portico. Before walks the venerable pontiff, bearing the eusigns of his sacred office age is on his brow, his hair white as snow, and his august countenance, expressing the mild calmness of dignity, is modestly upturned to heaven. The mute and thoughtful vestal, in her virgin garb, follows with measured steps her awful guide, and both, forgetting the world below, its vices, and its vanities, appear totally absorpt in the consideration of those high and important mysteries which they are about to celebrate-but, the dream breaks away--the |