The first line explains that the MS. was brought to Italy from beyond the Alps, and the second that it was discovered by a countryman of Catullus, that is, by a citizen of Verona. The third line contains the grand conundrum. Some critics have supposed that it points out the name of a monastery where the MS. was discovered; others, that it designates the name of the person who found it. Lessing is of this last opinion; and, according to his interpretation, the line implies, that it was discovered by some one whose name is the French word for quills or pens, that is, plumes. The name nearest this is Plumatius, on which foundation Lessing attributes the discovery of Catullus to Bernardinus Plumatius, a great scholar and physician of Verona, who flourished during the last half of the fifteenth century623. This conjecture of Lessing was better founded than he himself seems to have been aware, as the second syllable in the name Plumatius is not remote from the French verb hater, which, in one sense, as the epigram expresses it—

Lucius Pignorius, who thinks that these lines were not written by Guarinus of Verona, but that the MS. was discovered by him, also conjectures that it was found in a barn, since it is said in the last line, that it was concealed sub modio, and bushels are nowhere but in barns624. This is taking the line in its most literal signification, but the expression probably was meant only as proverbial.

The wretched situation in which this MS. was found, and the circumstance of its being the only one of any antiquity extant, sufficiently accounts for the numerous and evident corruptions of the text of Catullus, and for the editions of that poet presenting a greater number of various and contradictory readings than those of almost any other classic.

After this MS. was brought to Italy, it fell into the hands of Guarinus of Verona, who took much pains in correcting it, and it was further amended by his son Baptista Guarinus, as a third person of the family, Alexander Guarinus, informs us, in the prooemium to his edition of Catullus, 1521, addressed to Alphonso, third Duke of Ferrara. Baptista Guarinus, as Alexander farther mentions in his prooemium, published an edition of Catullus from the MS. which he had taken so much pains to correct, but without any commentary. This edition, however, has now entirely disappeared; and that of 1472, printed by Spira, at Venice, in which Catullus is united with Tibullus and Propertius, is accounted the Editio Princeps. The different editions in which these poets have appeared conjoined, will be more conveniently enumerated hereafter: both in them, and in the impressions of Catullus printed separately, the editors had departed widely from the corrected text of Baptista Guarinus. Accordingly, Alexander Guarinus, in 1521, printed an edition of Catullus, with the view of restoring the genuine readings of his father and grandfather, who had wrought on the ancient MS. which was the prototype of all the others. It would appear, however, that the erroneous readings had become inveterate. Maffei, in his Verona Illustrata625, points out the absurd and unauthorized alterations of Vossius and Scaliger on the pure readings of the Guarini.

Muretus took charge of an edition of Catullus, which was printed by the younger Aldus Manutius in 1558. This production is not accounted such as might be expected from the consummate critic and scholar by whom it was prepared. Isaac Vossius had commented on Catullus; but his annotations lay concealed for many years after his death, till they were at length brought to light by his amanuensis Beverland, who, by means of this valuable acquisition, was enabled to prepare the best edition which had yet appeared of Catullus, and which was first printed in London in 1684. His commentary was on every point profoundly learned.—“Poetam,” says Harles, “commentario eruditissimo, ita tamen ut inverecundi illi interdum haud cederet, illustravit.” Vulpius published a yet better edition at [pg A-41]Padua, in 1737, in the preparation of which he made great use of the Editio Princeps. In the notes, he has introduced a new and most agreeable species of commentary,—illustrating his author by parallel passages from the ancient and modern poets, particularly the Italian; not such parallel passages as Wakefield has amassed, where the words qui or atque occur in both, but where there is an obvious imitation or resemblance in the thought or image. He has also prefixed a diatribe De Metris Catullianis. In the year 1738, a curious fraud was practised with regard to Catullus. Carradini de Allio, a scholar of some note, published at Venice an edition, which he pretended to have printed from an ancient MS. accidentally discovered by him in a pottery, without a cover or title-page, and all besmeared with filth. It was dedicated to the Elector of Bavaria; and though one of the most impudent cheats of the sort that had been practised since the time of Sigonius and Annius Viterbiensis, it imposed on many learned men. The credit it obtained, introduced new disorders into the text of Catullus; and when the fraud was at length detected, the contriver of it only laughed at the temporary success of his imposture.

Doering, in early life, had printed an edition of the principal poem of Catullus, the Epithalamium of Peleus and Thetis. Encouraged by the success of this publication, he subsequently prepared a complete edition of Catullus, which came forth at Leipsic in 1788.

The Epithalamium of Peleus and Thetis, the chief production of Catullus, was translated into Italian by Ludovico Dolce, and printed in 1538, at the end of a small volume of miscellaneous works dedicated to Titian. In the colophon it is said, “Il fine dell’ epitalamio tradotto per M. Lod. Dolce, in verso sciolto.” This Epithalamium was also translated in the eighteenth century, into Ottava Rima, by Parisotti, with a long preface, in which he maintains that the ottava, or terza rima, is better adapted for the translation of the Latin classics than versi sciolti. GinguenÉ, in the preface to his French translation of this Epithalamium, mentions three other Italian versions of the last century, those of Neruci, Torelli, and the Count d’Ayano, all of which, he says, possess considerable merit. He also informs us, that Antonio Conti had commenced a translation of this poem, which was found incomplete at his death; but it was accompanied by many valuable criticisms and annotations, which have been much employed in a Memoir inserted in the transactions of the French Academy, by M. D’Arnaud, whose plagiarisms from the Italian author have been pointed out at full length by M. GinguenÉ, in his preface. Conti completed a translation of the Coma Berenices in versi sciolti, accompanied by an explanation of the subject, and learned notes, which was printed along with his works at Venice, in 1739. The Coma Berenices was also translated in terza rima by the Neapolitan Saverio Mattei, and by Pagnini in versi sdruccioli. At length, in 1803, M. Ugo Foscolo, now well known in this country as the author of the Letters of Jacopo Ortis, printed at Milan a translation of this elegy, in blank verse, under the title of La Chioma di Berenice, poema di Callimaco, tradotto da Valerio Catullo, volgarizzato ed illustrato da Ugo Foscolo. The version is preceded by four dissertations; the text is accompanied with notes, and followed by fourteen considerazioni, as they are called, in which the author severely censures and satirizes the pedantic commentators and philologers of his country. Mr Hobhouse, in his Illustrations of Childe Harold626, says, that the whole lucubration, extending to nearly 300 pages of large octavo, is a grave and continued irony on the verbal criticisms of commentators. “Some of the learned,” he continues, “fell into the snare, and Foscolo, who had issued only a few copies, now added a Farewell to his readers, in which he repays their praises, by exposing the mysteries and abuses of the philological art. Those whom he had deceived must have been not a little irritated to find that his frequent citations were invented for the occasion, and that his commentary had been purposely sprinkled with many of the grossest faults.”

The whole works of Catullus were first translated into Italian by the Abbot Francis Maria Biacca of Parma, who concealed his real designation, according to the affected fashion of the times, under the appellation of Parmindo Ibichense, Pastor Arcade. The Abbot died in 1735, and his version was printed at Milan after his death, in 1740, in the twenty-first volume of the General Collection of [pg A-42]Italian Translations from the Ancient Latin Poets. The most recent Italian version is that of Puccini, printed at Pisa in 1805. It is very deficient in point of spirit; and the last English translator of Catullus observes, “that it is chiefly remarkable for the squeamishness with which it omits all warmth in the love verses, while it unblushingly retains some of the most disgusting passages.”

The French have at all times dealt much in prose translations of the Classics. These did not suit very well for the epic poems, or even comedies or the Romans; and were totally abhorrent from the lyrical or epigrammatic productions of Catullus. A great deal of the beauty of every poem consists in the melody of its numbers. But there are certain species of poetry, of which the chief merit lies in the sweetness and harmony of versification. A boldness of figures, too—a luxuriance of imagery—a frequent use of metaphors—a quickness of transition—a freedom of digression, which are allowable in every sort of poetry, are to many species of it essential. But these are quite unsuitable to the character of prose, and when seen in a prose translation, they appear preposterous and out of place, because they are never found in any original prose composition. Now, the beauties of Catullus are precisely of that nature, of which it is impossible to convey the smallest idea in a prose translation. Many of his poems are of a lyric description, in which a greater degree of irregularity of thought, and a more unrestrained exuberance of fancy, are permitted than in any other kind of composition. To attempt, therefore, a translation of a lyric poem into prose, is the most absurd of all undertakings; for those very characters of the original, which are essential to it, and which constitute its highest beauty, if transferred to a prose translation, become unpardonable blemishes. What could be more ridiculous than a French prose translation of the wild dithyrambics of Atis, or the fervent and almost phrenzied love verses to Lesbia? It is from poetry that the elegies of Catullus derive almost all their tenderness—his amorous verses all their delicacy, playfulness, or voluptuousness—and his epigrams all their sting.

That indefatigable translator of the Latin poets, the AbbÉ Marolles, was the first person who traduced Catullus in French. He was an author, of all others, the worst qualified to succeed in the task which he had undertaken, as his heavy and leaden pen was ill adapted to express the elegant light graces of his original. His prose translation was printed in 1653. It was succeeded, in 1676, by one in verse, also by Marolles, but of which only thirty copies were thrown off and distributed among the translator’s friends. La Chapelle (not the author of the Voyage) translated most of the poems of Catullus, and inserted them in his Histoire Galante, entitled the Amours de Catulle, printed in 1680, which relates, in the style of an amatory prose romance, the adventures and intrigues of Catullus, his friends, and mistresses. The next translation, though not of the whole of his pieces, is by M. Pezay, printed 1771, who misses no opportunity of ridiculing Marolles and his work. It is in prose, as is also a more recent French translation by M. Noel, Paris, 1806. The first volume of Noel’s work contains the Discours Preliminaire on the Life, Poetry, Editions, and Translations of Catullus; and the version itself, which is accompanied with the Latin text. The second volume comprises a very large body of notes, chiefly exhibiting the imitations of Catullus by French poets. Brunet mentions a translation still more recent, by M. Mollevaut, which is in verse, and proves that more justice may be done to Catullus in rhyme than prose.

An English translation of Catullus, usually ascribed to Dr Nott, was published anonymously in 1795, accompanied with some valuable annotations. He was the first to give, as he himself says, the whole of Catullus, without reserve, and in some way or other, to translate all his indecencies. This version adheres very closely to the original, and has the merit of being simple and literal, but it is meagre and inelegant: it is defective in ease and freedom, and but seldom presents us with any of those graces of poetry, and indeed almost unattainable felicities of diction, which characterize the original. While writing this, the poetical translation by Mr Lamb has come to my hands. It is also furnished with a long preface and notes, which appear to be tasteful and amusing. The chief objections to the translation are quite the reverse of those which have been stated to the version by which it was preceded—it seems defective in point of fidelity, and is too diffuse and redundant. No author suffers so much by being diluted as Catullus, and he can only be given with effect by a brevity as condensed and piquant as his own. Indeed, the thoughts and language of Catullus throw more difficulties in the way of a translator, than those of almost any other classic author. His peculiarities of feeling—his idiomatic delicacies [pg A-43]of style—that light ineffable grace—that elegant ease and spirit, with which he was more richly endued than almost any other poet, can hardly pass through the hands of a translator without being in some degree sullied or alloyed.