Many of Mr. Headlam's translations are, however, excellent, more especially those from English into Greek. He says in his preface: "Greek, in my experience, is easier to write than English." He has admirably reproduced the pathetic simplicity of Herrick's lines:

Here a pretty baby lies, Sung to sleep with Lullabies; Pray be silent and not stir The easy earth that covers her.

?t?? a??a???s? ' ?????se?? ?t??a a??e ? '?e???? ???f?? ??? ' ?p?ess?e???.

Many singularly happy attempts to render English into Latin or Greek verse are given in Mr. Kennedy's fascinating little volume _Between Whiles_, of which the following example may be quoted:

Few the words that I have spoken; True love's words are ever few; Yet by many a speechless token Hath my heart discoursed to you.

??da pa??' ?p? ?a??sa?? pa??' ???? ?a?e?? f??e??

??????? d' ??? ??a?d??? s?? t? p?? ???????.

The extent to which it is necessary to resort to paraphrase will, of course, vary greatly, and will largely depend upon whether the language into which the translation is made happens to furnish epithets and expressions which are rhythmical and at the same time correspond accurately to those of the original. Take, for instance, a case such as the following fragment of Euripides:

t? ?? d?da?t? a?????, t? d' e??et?

??t?, t? d' e??t? pa?? ?e?? ?t?s???.

There is but little difficulty in turning this into English verse with but slight resort to paraphrase:

I learn what may be taught; I seek what may be sought; My other wants I dare To ask from Heaven in prayer,

But in a large majority of cases paraphrase is almost imposed on the translator by the necessities of the case. Mr. William Cory's rendering of the famous verses of Callimachus on his friend Herac.l.i.tus, which is too well known to need quotation, has been justly admired as one of the best and most poetic translations ever made from Greek, but it can scarcely be called a translation in the sense in which that term is employed by purists. It is a paraphrase.

It is needless to dwell on the difficulty of finding any suitable words capable of being adapted to the necessities of English metre and rhythm for the numerous and highly poetic adjectives in which the Greek language abounds. It would tax the ingenuity of any translator to weave into his verse expressions corresponding to the ???e???e? ???a?

(sea-constraining cliffs) or the ??a?s??a? ??pa??p???? (Mnemosyne of the shining fillet) of Pindar. Neither is the difficulty wholly confined to poetry. A good many epithets have from time to time been applied to the Nile, but none so graphic or so perfectly accurate as that employed by Herodotus,[43] who uses the phrase ?p? t?s??t?? te p?ta?? ?a? ??t?

???at????. The English translation "that vast river, so constantly at work" is a poor equivalent for the original Greek. German possesses to a greater degree than any other modern language the word-coining power which was such a marked characteristic of Greek, with the result that it offers special difficulties to the translator of verse. Mr. Brandes[44]

quotes the following lines of the German poet Bucher:

Welche Heldenfreudigkeit der Liebe, Welche Starke muthigen Entsagens, Welche himmlisch erdentschwungene Triebe, Welche Gottbegeistrung des Ertragens!

Welche Sich-Erhebung, Sich-Erwiedrung, Sich-Entaussrung, voll'ge Hin-sich-gebung, Seelenaustausch, Ineinanderlebung!

It is probable that these lines have never been translated into English verse, and it is obvious that no translation, which did not largely consist of paraphrase, would be possible.

Alliteration, which is a powerful literary instrument in the hands of a skilful writer, but which may easily be allowed to degenerate into a mere jingle, is of less common occurrence in Greek than in English, notably early English, literature. It was, however, occasionally employed by both poets and dramatists. Euripides, for instance, in the _Cyclops_ (l. 120) makes use of the following expression, which would serve as a good motto for an Anarchist club, ????e? d' ??d?? ??de??

??de???. Clytemnestra, also, in speaking of the murder of her husband (_Ag._ 1551-52) says:

p??? ???

??ppese, ??t?a?e, ?a? ?ata????e?.[45]

That Greek alliteration is capable of imitation is shown by Pope's translation of the well-known line[46]:

p???? d' ??a?ta ??ta?ta p??a?t? te d???? t' ??????

O'er hills, o'er dales, o'er crags, o'er rocks, they go.

Pope at times brought alliteration to his aid in cases where no such device had been adopted by Homer, as when, in describing the labours of Sisyphus,[47] he wrote:

With many a weary step, and many a groan, Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone.

On the whole, although a good deal more than is contained in this article may be said on either side, it would appear that, broadly speaking, Dryden's principle holds good for prose translations, and that experience has shown, in respect to translations in verse, that, save in rare instances, a resort to paraphrase is necessary.

The writer ventures, in conclusion, to give two instances, in one of which there has been comparatively but slight departure from the text of the original Greek, whilst in the other there has been greater indulgence in paraphrase. Both are taken from the Anthology. The first is an epitaph on a shipwrecked sailor by an unknown author:

?a?t??e, ? pe???? t???? ????de t??? ?d' e??, ???' a?t?? p??t?? t???a?e ???st?t????.

No matter who I was; but may the sea To you prove kindlier than it was to me.

The other is by Macedonius:

?????? ????s? se? t? d' ?? p?te ???eta? ???

???d?? ?????? a??? ?e???????

ta?t? ?? ?e????t? ?a???ea?, ???a d' ?? ??????

d??a f??e??, ?e??? p?st?? ?pe?pa???.

???a? ?spe??? se. t? d' ?spe??? ?st? ???a????; ???a? ?et??t? p????e??? ??t?d?.

Ever "To-morrow" thou dost say; When will to-morrow's sun arise?

Thus custom ratifies delay; My faithfulness thou dost despise.

Others are welcomed, whilst to me "At even come," thou say'st, "not now."

What will life's evening bring to thee?

Old age--a many-wrinkled brow.

Dryden's well-known lines in _Aurengzebe_ embody the idea of Macedonius in epigrammatic and felicitous verse:

Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay, To-morrow's falser than the former day.

[Footnote 24: Morley's _Life of Gladstone_, vol. iii. p. 467.]

[Footnote 25: Weise, 1841, vol. ii. p. 303.]

[Footnote 26: _Loci Critici_, p. 40.]

[Footnote 27: _History of Greece_, vol. ii. p. 326.]

[Footnote 28: The use by Pericles of this metaphor rests on the authority of Aristotle (_Rhet._ i. 7. 34). Herodotus (vii. 162) ascribes almost the identical words to Gelo, and a similar idea is given by Euripides in _Supp._ 447-49.]

[Footnote 29: _Memoirs_, vol. i. p. 328.]

[Footnote 30: _On the Sublime_, x.x.x.]

[Footnote 31: _Literature of the Victorian Era_, p. 382.]

[Footnote 32: _On the Sublime_, c. v.]

[Footnote 33: Aristotle's _Theory of Poetry and Fine Art_, p. 398.]

[Footnote 34: _Miscellaneous Writings_, Conington, vol. i. p. 162.]

[Footnote 35: iii. 1045 ff.]