*>4 News from Parnassus. .. PUL [Aug, 1, 
imitations, or in versions of some of his 
single poems. To those who are ac¬ 
quainted with the verses of this kind, 
which are to be found in the works of 
such men as Pope, Cowley, Parnell, 
and Langhornc, the translations of Mr. 
Lamb must necessarily appear a little 
44 stale and unprofitableand, indeed, 
it is impossible, in the perusal of (hem, 
to avoid instituting such a comparison. 
In one instance Mr. Lamb seems to have 
been aware how much he must suffer 
by such parallel instances, and lie lias 
forborne to translate Catullus’s version 
of Sappho’s Ode, which displays all its 
original fire and beauty in the splendid 
translation by Ambrose Phillips, But 
the same objection, more or less, ap¬ 
plied to the whole volume of these 
poems, and it would perhaps have been 
more prudent in Mr. Lamb to have 
enteied some lists where he was secure 
of meeting less formidable competitors. 
The present is not an age which will 
be tamely content with mediocrity, and 
the man who will venture into the po¬ 
etical market, ought to be pretty well 
assured of the good quality of his mer¬ 
chandize before he exposes it to sale. 
Poets, and good poets too, are no longer 
til erarte avis, in terris^ which they were, 
during the latter half of the eighteenth 
century; and the competition for ex¬ 
cellence seems to become almost every 
da} 7 more vigorous, while young aspir¬ 
ants are continually rising up to dispute 
the palm of excellence with their mas¬ 
ters . 
Catullus is a poet who furnishes, a 
few supernumerary difficulties to a 
translator at the present day. The 
more correct moral feeling of modern 
times, would never permit a complete 
version of many of those objectionable 
passages in which lie abounds. This 
portion of his task Mr. Lamb has exe¬ 
cuted with considerable judgment, and 
we need not fear that our delicacy may 
be wounded in perusing the pages of 
his translation. It will be necessary, 
before we give any extracts from Ca¬ 
tullus, to notice the introductory poem, 
which is prefixed to the volume, and 
which seems to be intended as a sort of 
excuse for a grave lawyer, as Mr. Lamb 
professes himself, indulging in pursuits 
of so light a nature as this. The names 
of Lord Mansfield and Sir William 
Blackstone are, however, perhaps suffi¬ 
cient to sanctify the practice, and our 
translator might surely hare rested se¬ 
cure under the shield of those names. 
This poem, which is entitled 4 Reflex¬ 
ions before Publication,’ is written in a 
light style, but certainly bears too many 
marks of a pen which lias been accus¬ 
tomed to the turns and clap-traps of 
prologues. The poetry is not by any 
means of a high order. The following 
are some passages from it: 
The pleasing task which oft a calm has 
lent 
To lull disease and soften discontent, 
Has still made busy life’s vacations gay. 
And saved from idleness the leisure day : 
In many a musing walk and lone retreat, 
That task is done—I may not say com¬ 
plete. 
# * * * * * . 
The shade of Catullus appears to his 
translator, and afterwards he is thus 
addressed by the 41 Genius of the law:” 
“ O, rhyming pleader!—didst thou then 
misuse 
My solid commons to regale the Muse ? 
Was mine a call to ciimb the Aonian hills ? 
Do I speak harmony to legal quills ? 
See the high shelves bent down with learn¬ 
ed weight. 
With books of every size, and print, and 
date, 
The pregnant folio, that unclasp’d to sight. 
Spreads a black-letter’d flood to dim the 
light, 
The quarto, smiling with a fairer page, 
Octavo, fav’rite of this cheap’ning age* 
And dnodecimo’s conciser school 
Of pithy maxim and established rule—. 
See them with wisdom of all ages full. 
Before Cro. Jac. till after Bos. and Puh 
The ancient statute simple and compact. 
The wordy labyrinth of the modern act, 
Index, indictment, every useful reading, 
And precedents for rules, and writs, and 
pleading. 
And Coke and Burn, that guide to all con¬ 
ditions. 
In full array of twenty-five editions. 
Not these enough to pass away thy time 
Without unreasoning prose, or weary 
chime 
Of false, illogical, unprofitable rhyme ? 
If yet fiis so—see pale reporters toil 
Through morning fogs, and over midnight 
oil : 
Shall e’er inaccurate phrase, or hasty slip, 
Or chance mistake escape a judge’s lip ; 
And shall not live recorded in reports, 
Lead suitors wrong, and puzzle other 
Courts ; 
Thus boasts our lore an ever full increase ) 
Away with verse then —-” 
As the poem on the death of Lesbia's 
Sparrow is one which, in some shape 
or another, must he known to all our 
readers, 
