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No. LXXXIX. Tuesday, September 11. 1753.

Præcipua tamen ejus in commovenda miferatione virtus,

ut quidam in hac eum parte omnibus ejufdem operis aua toribus præferant.

QUINTILIAN.

His great excellence was in moving compassion, with

respect to which many give him the first place of all the writers of that kind.

To the ADVENTURER..

SIR,

It is usual for scholars to lament, with indiscriminating regret, the devastations committed on ancient libraries, by accident and time, by superfition, ignorance and Gothicism; but the lofs.is very far from being in all cases equally irreparable, as the want of some kinds of books may be much more easily supplied than that of others. By the interruption that sometimes happens in the succession of philosophical opinions, the mind is emancipated from traditionary systems, recovers its native elasticity which had been benumbed by custom, begins to examine with freedom and fresh vigour, and to follow truth instead of authority. The loss of writ. ings, therefore, in which reasoning is concerned, is not, perhaps, so great an evil to mankind, as of those which describe characters and facts.

eman

To be deprived of the last books of Livy, of the satires of Archilochus, and the comedies of Menander, is a greater misfortune to the republic of literature, than if the logic and the physics of Aristotle had never descended to pofterity.

Two of your predeceffors, Mr. Adventurer, of great judgment and genius, very justly thought that they should adorn their lucubrations by publishing, one of them a fragment of Sappho, and the other an old Grecian hymn to the Goddess Health : and, indeed, I conceive it to be a very important use of your paper, to bring into common light those beautiful remains of ancient art, which by their present situation are deprived of that universal admiration they so juftly deserve, and are only the secret enjoyment of a few curious readers. In imitation, therefore, of the examples I have just mentioned, I shall send you, for the inftruction and entertain. ment of your readers, a fragment of Simonides and of Menander.

Simonides was celebrated by the ancients for the sweetness, correctness, and purity of his style, and his irresistible skill in moving the passions. It is a fufficient panegyric that Plato often mentions him with approbation. Dionysius places him among those

polished writers, who excel “ in a smooth volubility, and “ flow on, like plenteous and perennial rivers, in a “ course of even and uninterrupted harmony."

It is to this excellent critic that we are indebted for the preservation of the following passage, the tenderness and elegance of which, scarcely need be pointed out to thofe who have tafte and fenfibility. Danae, being by her merciless father inclofed in a chest and thrown into the sea with her child, the poet proceeds thus far to relate her distress ;

Ω τεκνον,

"Οτε λαρνακι εν δαιδαλια avejos
Bρεμη πνεων, κινηθεισα δε λιμνα
Δειματι ερειπεν· ε' τ' αδιανταισι
Παρειαις, αμφι τε Περσει βαλλε
Φιλαν χερα ξιπεν τί-
Οιον εχω, πινον, συ δ' αυτε γαλαθηνω
"Ητορι κνωσσεις εν ατερπει δωματι,
Χαλχεογομφω δε, νυκτιαλμπει,
Κυανεω τε δνοφω, συ δ', αναλεαν
"Υπερθε τεαν κομαν βαθειαν
Παριοντος κυματος εκ κλεγεις
Ουδ

ανεμε φθογγων, σορθορεα
Κειμενος εν κλανιδι, προσωπον καλον,
Ει δε τοι δεινον το γε δεινον

ην,
Και κεν εμων δηματων λιπον
Yπειχες Βας. Κελομαι, ευδε βρεφος,
Ευδετω δε πουλος, ευδετω αμείρον κακον.

When the raging wind began to roar, and the waves to beat fo violently on the chest as to threaten to overset it, she threw her arm fondly around Peresus, and said, the tears trickling down her cheeks, “ O my son, “ what sorrows do I undergo ! but thou art wrapt in “ a deep slumber; thou fleepest soundly like a suckling “ child, in this joyless habitation, in this dark and “ dreadful night, lighted only by the glimmerings of the s moon! Covered with thy purple mantle, thou regard“ eft not the waves that dash around thee, nor the "whistling of the winds. Othou beauteous babe! “ If thou wert sensible of this calamity, thou wouldest “ bend thy tender ears to my complaints. Sleep on, " I beseech thee, O my child! Sleep with him, Oye: ““ billows! and sleep likewise my distress !"

Those who would, form a full idea of the delicacy of the Greek, should attentively consider the following happy imitation of it, which, I have reason to believe, is not so extensively known, or so warmly admired, as it ought to be ; and which, indeed, far excels the ori. ginal.

The poet, having pathetically painted a great princess taking leave of an affectionate husband on his. death-bed, and endeavouring afterwards to comfort her inconsolable family, adds the following particular,

His conatibus occupata, ocellas
Guttis lucidulis adhuc madentes
Convertit, puerum fopore vinttum
Quà nutrix placido fina fovebat :
Dormis,inquiit, O miselle, nec te
Vultus exanimes, filentiumque
" Per longa.airia commovent, nec ullo
Fratrum tangeris, aut meo dolore ;..
Nec fentis patre deftitutus illo,
" Qui gestans genibusve bracbiove,
" Aut formans lepidam tuam loquelam,
Tecum mille modis ineptiebat.
« Tu dormis, volitantque qui folebant
" Rifus, in roseis tuis labellis.
Dormi, parvule! nec mali dolores
Qui matrem cruciant tuæ quietis

"

Rumpant

Rumpant fomnia.- Quando, quando, tales
Redibunt oculis meis Sopores .!"'

The contrast betwixt the insensibility of the infant and the agony of the mother; her observing that the child is unmoved with what was most likely to affect him, the sorrows of his little brothers, the many mourn. ful countenances, and the dismal blence that reigned throughout the court; the circumstances of the father playing with the child on his knees or in his arms, and teaching him to speak; are such delicate master-strokes of nature and parental tenderness as shew the author is intimately acquainted with the human heart, and with those little touches of pallion that are best calculated to move it. The affectionate with of dormi, “ parvule" is plainly imitated from the fragment of Simonides; but the sudden exclamation that follows,

when, O when shall I sleep like this infant!" is entirely the property of the author, and worthy of, though not excelled by, any of the ancients. It is making the most artful and the most striking use of the Plumber of the child, to aggravate and heighten by comparison, the restlessness of the mother's forrow; it is the finest and strongest way of saying, “my grief “ will never cease," that has ever been used. I think it not exaggeration to affirm, that in this little poem, are united the pathetic of Euripides, and the elegance of Catullus. It affords a judicious example of the manner in which the ancients ought to be imitated ; not by using their expressions and epithets, which is the common method, but by catching a portion of their fpirit, and adapting their images and ways of thinking to new fubje&ts. The generality of those who have pro.

posed

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