“Per cœlum volvi quia nox et luna videtur,
Luna, dies, et nox, et noctis signa serena!”
This last word Wakefield has changed into severa, which greatly impairs the beauty of the line. Noctis signa serena, are the stars and planets; but if instead of these be substituted the signa severa, the passage becomes tautological, for the signa severa are introduced immediately afterwards in the line
“Noctivagæque faces cœli flammæque volantes.”
I have only selected passages where Wakefield has departed from the usual readings, without support from any ancient edition or authoritative MS. whatever. The instances where, in a variation of the MSS. and editions, he has chosen the worse reading, are innumerable.
The first edition of Wakefield’s Lucretius was printed at London in 1796; the second at Glasgow, 1813, which is rendered more valuable than the first, by a running collation in the last volume of the readings of the Editio Princeps, printed at Brescia; that of Verona, 1486—Venice 1495—the Aldine edition, 1500—and the Bipontine, 1782, which places in a very striking point of view the superiority of the Editio Princeps over those by which it was immediately succeeded. At the end of this edition, there are published some MS. notes and emendations, taken from Bentley’s own copy of Faber’s edition of Lucretius, in the library of the British Museum. They are not of much consequence, and though a few of them are doubtless improvements on Faber’s text, yet, taken as a whole, they would injure the lines of the poet, should they be unfortunately adopted in subsequent editions.
Eichstädt, in his recent impression, published at Leipsic, has chiefly followed the text of Wakefield, but has occasionally deviated from it when he thought the innovations too bold. He had the advantage of consulting the Editio Princeps, which no modern editor enjoyed. He has prefixed Wakefield’s prefaces, and a long dissertation of his own, on the Life and Poetical Writings of Lucretius, in which he scarcely does justice to the poetical genius of his author. The first volume, containing the text and a very copious verbal index, was printed at Leipsic in 1801. It is intended that the second volume should comprise the commentary, but it has not yet been published.
There is hardly any poet more difficult to translate happily than Lucretius. In the abstruse and jejune philosophical discussions which occupy so large a proportion of the poem, it is hardly possible, without a sacrifice of perspicuity, to retain the harmony of versification; and, in the ornamental passages, the diction is so simple, pure, and melodious, that it is an enterprize of no small difficulty to translate with fidelity and elegance.
In consequence, perhaps, of the freedom of his philosophical, and a misrepresentation of his moral tenets, Lucretius was longer of being rendered into the Italian language than almost any other classic. It was near the end of the seventeenth century, before any version was executed, when a translation into verso sciolto, was undertaken by Marchetti, Professor of Mathematics and Philosophy in the University of Pisa. Marchetti has evidently translated from the edition of Lambinus—the best which had at that time appeared. His version, however, though completed in the seventeenth century, was not published till 1717, three years after his death, when it was printed, with the date of London, under the care of a person styling himself Antinoo Rullo, with a prefatory dedication to the great Prince Eugene, in which the editor terms it, “la più grande, e la più bella poetic’ opera che nel passato secolo nascesse ad accrescere un nuovo lume di gloria ad Italia.” Public opinion, both in Italy and other countries, has confirmed that of the editor, and it is universally admitted, that the translator has succeeded in faithfully preserving the spirit and meaning of the Latin original, without forfeiting any of the beauties of the Italian language. It has been said, that such was the freedom and freshness of this performance, that unless previously informed as to the fact, no one could distinguish whether the Latin or Italian Lucretius was the original. Graziana, himself a celebrated poet, who had perused it in MS., thus justly characterizes its merits, in a letter addressed to the author:—“you have translated this poem with great felicity and ease; unfolding its sublime and scientific materials in a delicate style and elegant manner; and, what is still more to be admired, your diction seldom runs into a lengthened paraphrase, and never without the greatest judgment.” The perusal of this admirable translation was forbidden by the inquisition, but the prohibition did not prevent a subsequent impression of it from being printed at Lausanne, in 1761. This edition, which is in two volumes, contains an Italian translation of Polignac’s Anti-Lucretius, by F. Maria Ricci. The editor, Deregni, indeed declares that he would not have ventured to publish any translation of Lucretius, however excellent, unless accompanied by this powerful antidote. There are prefixed to this edition historical and critical notices; as also the preface, and the Protesta del Traduttore, which had been inserted in the first edition.
Most of the French translations of Lucretius are in prose. Of all sorts of poetry, that called didactic, which consists in the detail of a regular system, or in rational precepts, which flow from each other in a connected train of thought, suffers least by being transfused into prose. Almost every didactic poet, however, enriches his work with such ornaments as spring out of his subject, though not strictly attached to it; but in no didactic poem are these passages so numerous and so charming as in that of Lucretius; and, accordingly, in a prose translation, while all that is systematic or preceptive may be rendered with propriety, all that belongs to embellishment, and which forms the principal grace of the original, appears impertinent and misplaced. The earliest translation of Lucretius into the French language, was by Guillaume des Autels, about the middle of the sixteenth century. The Abbé Morolles, already mentioned as the translator of Plautus and Terence, turned Lucretius into French prose: Of this version there were two editions, the first of which was printed in 1650. It was addressed to Christina, Queen of Sweden; and, as the author had been very liberal to this princess in compliment, he hoped she would be equally liberal in reward; but he was much deceived, and of this disappointment he bitterly complains in his Memoirs. Of this translation, Goujet remarks, that one is constantly obliged to have recourse to the Latin text, in order to comprehend its meaning[613]. It was a good deal amended, however, in the second edition, 1659, under circumstances of which the author introduces an account in the list of his works subjoined to his translation of Virgil. Gassendi, who had profoundly studied the system of Epicurus and Lucretius, having procured a copy of Ma[pg A-37]rolles’ first edition, he sent a few days before his death for the author, and pointed out to him, with his own hand, those passages in which he thought his translation defective, and also supplied him with a number of notes in illustration of the poet. The Abbé was thus provided with ample materials for the improvement of his work, and so pleased was he with his second edition, that he got a prohibition against reprinting the first introduced into the Privilége of the second. He inserted in it a Discours Apologetique, defending the translating and reading of Lucretius, and prefixed a dedication to M. Lamoignon, President of the Parliament, whom he now substituted for Queen Christina. Moliere having seen the first edition of Marolles’ prose translation, was thereby induced to render Lucretius into French verse. His original intention was to have versified the whole poem, but he afterwards confined his rhymes to the more decorative parts, and delivered the rest in plain prose. As he proceeded with his version, he uniformly rehearsed it both to Chapelle and Rohaut, who jointly testified their approbation of the performance. But it was destined to perish when brought very near its completion. A valet of the translator, who had charge of his dress-wig, being in want of paper to put it into curl, laid hold of a loose sheet of the version, which was immediately rent to pieces, and thrown into the fire as soon as it had performed its office. Moliere was one of the most irritable of the genus irritabile vatum, and the accident was too provoking to be endured. He resolved never to translate another line, and threw the whole remainder of his version into the flames, which had thus consumed a part of it[614]. This abortive attempt of Moliere incited the Abbé Marolles to render the whole of Lucretius into verse. He completed this task in less than four months, and published the fruits of his labour in 1677. Rapidity of execution, however, is the only merit of which he has to boast. His translation is harsh, flat, and inverted; and it is also very diffuse: The poem of Lucretius consists of 7389 lines, and the version of not less than 12338[615].