burnt, were it kept as long on them as it can be kept on the bottom. But no sooner has the boiling ceased, than the bottom itself receives part of the heat of the water, and the finger cannot then touch it, without being burnt.

44

"REMARK.-The solution of the following little problem depends, in all probability, on a similar cause.

“To melt lead in a piece of paper.

"Wrap up a very smooth ball of lead in a piece of paper, taking care that there be no wrinkles in it, and that it be every where in contact with the ball; if it be held, in this state, over the flame of a taper, the lead will be melted without the paper being burnt. The lead, indeed, when once fused, will not fail in a short time to pierce the paper, and to run through." Vol. IV. P. 169.

We can strongly recommend this publication to all masters and tutors of schools and academies as a most useful and entertaining production, and admirably calculated both to inform the mind in the paths of science, and to preserve it from the contagion of idleness and corruption in those hours of leisure in which the student must be his own master.

The plates are explanatory and good, and will have much effect in rendering the problems of experiments easy both to be understood and to be reduced into practice. The whole work indeed reflects much credit upon a man, who has already deserved so well of the scientific world.

ART. VI. The Satires of Juvenal translated into English Verse. By C. Badham, M. D. 8vo. pp. 406. Longman. 1814.

14s.

WE scarcely know by what fatality the Manes of Juvenal are doomed to undergo such perpetual dislocation and dismemberment in the purgatory of translation. Most of the other celebrated poets of antiquity, after having been stretched twice or thrice upon the rack, or having first been "done,” or rather squeezed into English by our pedantic forefathers, and afterwards freely paraphrased, or rather paralysed by their degenerate sons, are suffered to rest at peace in their own proper language and shelves. Juvenal alone appears to be selected as a subject for continual experiment, not only in poetry, but even in prose, in which latter form, three monsters are now to be met with in our British menagerie.

It might have been supposed that if Holyday and Stapylton had been deemed unqualified for their task, that Dryden and his colleagues would have answered every purpose for which translation

could

could have been adapted. Or if these were not sufficient, Mr. Gifford might be esteemed as fully competent to supply all that could be desired. Mr. Hodgson, however, starts up a powerful rival to all that have gone before him, and now Dr. Badham appears the last of Banquo's descendants. We say nothing of a long tribe of worthies, who, with their translations, have long since slept in peace; we are of opinion however that if Dr. Badham could hold the glass in his hand, we should see a host of future translators, whom future days will bring to life.

To account in some measure for this pruriency of translation, we shall not detract in the smallest degree from the merits of those who stand distinguished in this rauk of literature; we shall account for it rather from the unattainable magnificence of the original. Dryden, Gifford, and Hodgson, have each done wonders in their several works, much however still remains and ever will remain to be done. Each of these has justly thought that he has discovered some beauty which his predecessors have overlooked, that he has infused a spirit which they have suffered to evaporate. Each then in detached passages will exceed the other, yet much maysti remain for a more fortunate successor to accomplish, and thus translations may follow translations, differing from each other, perhaps, not so much in the quantum as in the disposition of excellence. With respect also to the laws of translation, there appears to be no general agreement even upon this first point, the difference therefore of style and manner, which each may consider as most adapted to the original, must of itself furnish an endless variety.

There is one great advantage resulting from this competition, we mean the general attention paid on this account to the great original. If the number of translations shall incline our rising youth more deeply to study the spirit, and more accurately to investigate the language of Juvenal himself, we shall hail each new translation as an auspicious event in the annals of scholarship and morality.

Of the many qualities requisite for a translator of Juvenal, Dr. Bedham appears to possess a sufficient proportion; he seems to be endowed with a stern and powerful mind, with a considerable share of sound scholarship, and occasionally with no mean poetical power. His principal deficiency may be traced in a cer tain want of sustainment peculiar to himslf. He seldom indeed grows flat or insipid, but often rugged and harsh; or to borrow a metaphor from the stable, he seldom flags, but often stumbles. We should imagine that poetry was in some measure a new pursuit with our author, and that he is comparatively fresh in harness; his faults are such as time and attention will correct, and

E e 2

and his excellencies such as will encrease with each succeeding effort.

The first satire is rendered with much spirit and general fidelity. We shall present the reader with the few last lines as a specimen of our translator's powers, adding the versions both of Gifford and of Hodgson.

"Securus licet neam, Rutulumque ferocem
Committas, nulli gravis est percussus Achilles,
Aut multùm quæsitus Hylas, urnamque secutus
Ense velut stricto, quoties Lucilius ardens
Infrermuit, rubet auditor, cui frigida mens est
Criminibus, tacita sudant præcordia culpa.
Inde iræ, et lacrymæ. Tecum prius ergo voluta
Hæc animo ante tubas; galeatum sero duelli
Pœnitet, experiar quid concedatur in illos
Quorum Flaminiâ tegitur cinis atque Latinâ.”

"Steer wisely then from this too daring course,
And match the Trojan's and Rutulian's force;
Achilles' wound excites no friendly rage,
None weep for Hylas in our distant age.
But when Lucilius huris indignant down.
His dreadful thunders on a guilty town,
Each blushing villain feels the shock within,
And shudd'ring sweats betray the conscious sin-
Hot tears of anguish speak the just award,

But deadly hate pursues the virtuous bard.

Weigh well your strength, ere yet the trumpets sound,
And arm'd you enter on the listed ground.

JUVENAL.

Since then I'm doom'd to check my vengeful gall,
And fear to lash the living criminal,

I'll point my satire at the noxious clay,

Beneath the Latin and Flaminian way." Hodgson,

Mr. Gifford is rather closer than Mr. Hodgson,

Bring, if you will, Eneas on the stage,
Once more the fierce Rutilian to engage;
Make stern Achilles bleed in epic strain,
And Hylas Hylas! fill the Shore in vain.
Harmless, nay pleasant, shall your verse be found,
You bare no ulcer, and you probe no wound.
But when Lucilius, fired with virtuous rage,
Nerves his bold arm to scourge an impious age,
The conscious villain shudders a at his sin,
And burning blushes speak the pangs within;
Cold drops of sweat from every member roll,
And growing terrors harrow up his soul.

Then

Then tears of shame, and dire revenge succeed-
Say; have you ponder'd well th' adventurous deed?
Now-ere the trumpet sound-your strength debate
The soldier once engaged repents too late.

"J. Yet I must write; and since these iron times,
From living knaves preclude my angry rhymes,
I point my pen against the guilty dead,

And pour its gall on each obnoxious head." Gifford.

Dr. Badham is closer still than either of his predecessors, and by his accuracy has rather preserved than diminished the spirit of the original.

"O bid the Muse to themes more harmless turn,
And tell the tale of Hylas and his urn;

Æneas, Turnus-none their quarrel harms,
None shall vow vengeance where none feel alarms.'
But when Lucilius with intrepid hand,

Bares the bright terrors of his gleaming brand;
How the warm current mantles in the cheek,
And sins reveal'd in burning blushes speak!
The bosom heaves with agony supprest,
And chilling damps bedew the laboring breast;
Then comes the burst of rage!-O friend, beware,
Before you sound the trumpet for the war;
The helmet on, thou canst no more decline,
Now, be the perils of the combat thine!

"Be then their patience tried, whose bones decay
Beneath the Latin and Flaminian way." P. 26.

We must, however, remark that "be then their patience tried," is not a sufficiently accurate version of " quid concedatur," although we prefer a couplet rather than four lines to convey the sense of the original.

The third satire is a spirited performance, from the latter part of this also we shall extract a passage, in which in our opinion Dr. Badham fully equals either of his modern predecessors in accuracy and power.

"Ebrius ac petulans, qui nullum førte cecidit, &c."

"The fiery youth, whom yet no murders stain,
Frets, like Pelides for Patroclus slain :

Turns on his face, utters the restless moan,
Sleepless and sad until the deed be done :

There are whom brawls compose!--but he in truth,
Flush'd as he is with wine, the generous youth
Marks the long train, and glittering robes afar,
And saves his courage, for an humbler war.

He

He shuns the brazen lamp, the torches bright;
Me, whom the moon conducts, or glimmering light
Of which my
hands œconomise the thread,
He marks for vengeance, unalloy'd with dread:
And thus begins the fray-(to call it se,
Where he inflicts, and I receive the blow.)
Full in my way stand, fellow, stand,' he bawls,
('Tis prompt obedience, when a madman calls,
And he too stronger!) come, sir, quickly tell
• Whose beans and vinegar within thee swell?
'Say with what cobler didst thou slice the leek,
And eat the boil'd sheep's head?-nay, sirráh, speak.
So! silent?-There! take that!-and that—and now
Perchance the mighty secret thoul't avow,

What porch shall house thee for the night? in sooth,
'Good fellow, thou hadst better tell the truth,'-
Or face the storm, or seek inglorious flight,
In a whole skin look not to sleep to night,-
To morrow, when he hears your rival's tale,
Perhaps the prætor may accept your bail!
Behold a poor man's rights! insulted, bruis'd,
Then of the insults he endur'd, accus'd.

He must implore, that, with what teeth remain,

For once, they'll let him seek his home again!" P. 77.

The sixth satire is rendered with much delicacy, but without departing from the spirit of the original. Mr. Hodgson makes too large sacrifices to decency, while Mr. Gifford perhaps speaks out too much in the language of Juvenal; Dr. Badham steers a middle course, and sometimes with much success.

There is not perhaps a more difficult task in the whole range of translation, than to give the reader a sufficient notion both of the vices themselves, and of the spirit with which they are lashed, without offending the chaste ear, by too faithful a transfusion of the gross and disgusting terms in which the attack is carried on. Such however is the task which any one who pretends to give a version of the sixth satire undertakes; "galeatum serò duelli pænitet." Dr. Badham has not shrunk from the responsibility attached to such an undertaking; nor will he have any reason to repent of his boldness.

In the seventh and eighth satires our author is by no means unsuccessful; excepting a few errors, they present a very fair transcript of the original. In the tenth, by which the generality of his readers will judge of the merits of the whole, he labours with various degrees of success. In the opening he is clearly surpassed by Hodgson, and perhaps by Gifford; in many parts indeed he falls short of both his rivals; but in the close he comes off victorious from the contest. We shall present the version of

all