[Greek]
For all these things,' says he, 'were brought about by the decree of Jupiter; and, therefore, he supposes their true sources are known only to the deities. Now, the translation takes no more notice of the [Greek] than if no such word had been there.'
'Very possibly,' answered the author; 'it is a long time since I read the original. Perhaps, then, he followed the French translations. I observe, indeed, he talks much in the notes of Madam Dacier and Monsieur Eustathius.'
Booth had now received conviction enough of his friend's knowledge of the Greek language; without attempting, therefore, to set him right, he made a sudden transition to the Latin. 'Pray, sir,' said he, 'as you have mentioned Rowe's translation of the Pharsalia, do you remember how he hath rendered that passage in the character of Cato?--
----Venerisque huic maximus usus
Progenies; urbi Pater est, urbique Maritus.
For I apprehend that passage is generally misunderstood.'
'I really do not remember,' answered the author. 'Pray, sir, what do you take to be the meaning?'
'I apprehend, sir,' replied Booth, 'that by these words, Urbi Pater est, urbique Maritus, Cato is represented as the father and husband to the city of Rome.'
'Very true, sir,' cries the author; 'very fine, indeed.--Not only the father of his country, but the husband too; very noble, truly!'
'Pardon me, sir,' cries Booth; 'I do not conceive that to have been Lucan's meaning. If you please to observe the context; Lucan, having commended the temperance of Cato in the instances of diet and cloaths, proceeds to venereal pleasures; of which, says the poet, his principal use was procreation: then he adds, Urbi Pater est, urbique Maritus; that he became a father and a husband for the sake only of the city.'
'Upon my word that's true,' cries the author; 'I did not think of it. It is much finer than the other.--Urbis Pater est--what is the other?--ay--Urbis Maritus.--It is certainly as you say, sir.'
Booth was by this pretty well satisfied of the author's profound learning; however, he was willing to try him a little farther. He asked him, therefore, what was his opinion of Lucan in general, and in what class of writers he ranked him?
The author stared a little at this question; and, after some hesitation, answered, 'Certainly, sir, I think he is a fine writer and a very great poet.'
'I am very much of the same opinion,' cries Booth; 'but where do you class him--next to what poet do you place him?'
'Let me see,' cries the author; 'where do I class him? next to whom do I place him?--Ay!--why--why, pray, where do you yourself place him?'
'Why, surely,' cries Booth, 'if he is not to be placed in the first rank with Homer, and Virgil, and Milton, I think clearly he is at the head of the second, before either Statius or Silius Italicus--though I allow to each of these their merits; but, perhaps, an epic poem was beyond the genius of either. I own, I have often thought, if Statius had ventured no farther than Ovid or Claudian, he would have succeeded better; for his Sylvae are, in my opinion, much better than his Thebais.'
'I believe I was of the same opinion formerly,' said the author.
'And for what reason have you altered it?' cries Booth.
'I have not altered it,' answered the author; 'but, to tell you the truth, I have not any opinion at all about these matters at present. I do not trouble my head much with poetry; for there is no encouragement to such studies in this age. It is true, indeed, I have now and then wrote a poem or two for the magazines, but I never intend to write any more; for a gentleman is not paid for his time. A sheet is a sheet with the booksellers; and, whether it be in prose or verse, they make
