There is hardly any poet more difficult to translate happily than Lucretius. In the abstruse and jejune philosophical discussions which occupy so large a proportion of the poem, it is hardly possible, without a sacrifice of perspicuity, to retain the harmony of versification; and, in the ornamental passages, the diction is so simple, pure, and melodious, that it is an enterprize of no small difficulty to translate with fidelity and elegance.

In consequence, perhaps, of the freedom of his philosophical, and a misrepresentation of his moral tenets, Lucretius was longer of being rendered into the Italian language than almost any other classic. It was near the end of the seventeenth century, before any version was executed, when a translation into verso sciolto, was undertaken by Marchetti, Professor of Mathematics and Philosophy in the University of Pisa. Marchetti has evidently translated from the edition of Lambinus—the best which had at that time appeared. His version, however, though completed in the seventeenth century, was not published till 1717, three years after his death, when it was printed, with the date of London, under the care of a person styling himself Antinoo Rullo, with a prefatory dedication to the great Prince Eugene, in which the editor terms it, “la piÙ grande, e la piÙ bella poetic’ opera che nel passato secolo nascesse ad accrescere un nuovo lume di gloria ad Italia.” Public opinion, both in Italy and other countries, has confirmed that of the editor, and it is universally admitted, that the translator has succeeded in faithfully preserving the spirit and meaning of the Latin original, without forfeiting any of the beauties of the Italian language. It has been said, that such was the freedom and freshness of this performance, that unless previously informed as to the fact, no one could distinguish whether the Latin or Italian Lucretius was the original. Graziana, himself a celebrated poet, who had perused it in MS., thus justly characterizes its merits, in a letter addressed to the author:—“you have translated this poem with great felicity and ease; unfolding its sublime and scientific materials in a delicate style and elegant manner; and, what is still more to be admired, your diction seldom runs into a lengthened paraphrase, and never without the greatest judgment.” The perusal of this admirable translation was forbidden by the inquisition, but the prohibition did not prevent a subsequent impression of it from being printed at Lausanne, in 1761. This edition, which is in two volumes, contains an Italian translation of Polignac’s Anti-Lucretius, by F. Maria Ricci. The editor, Deregni, indeed declares that he would not have ventured to publish any translation of Lucretius, however excellent, unless accompanied by this powerful antidote. There are prefixed to this edition historical and critical notices; as also the preface, and the Protesta del Traduttore, which had been inserted in the first edition.

Most of the French translations of Lucretius are in prose. Of all sorts of poetry, that called didactic, which consists in the detail of a regular system, or in rational precepts, which flow from each other in a connected train of thought, suffers least by being transfused into prose. Almost every didactic poet, however, enriches his work with such ornaments as spring out of his subject, though not strictly attached to it; but in no didactic poem are these passages so numerous and so charming as in that of Lucretius; and, accordingly, in a prose translation, while all that is systematic or preceptive may be rendered with propriety, all that belongs to embellishment, and which forms the principal grace of the original, appears impertinent and misplaced. The earliest translation of Lucretius into the French language, was by Guillaume des Autels, about the middle of the sixteenth century. The AbbÉ Morolles, already mentioned as the translator of Plautus and Terence, turned Lucretius into French prose: Of this version there were two editions, the first of which was printed in 1650. It was addressed to Christina, Queen of Sweden; and, as the author had been very liberal to this princess in compliment, he hoped she would be equally liberal in reward; but he was much deceived, and of this disappointment he bitterly complains in his Memoirs. Of this translation, Goujet remarks, that one is constantly obliged to have recourse to the Latin text, in order to comprehend its meaning613. It was a good deal amended, however, in the second edition, 1659, under circumstances of which the author introduces an account in the list of his works subjoined to his translation of Virgil. Gassendi, who had profoundly studied the system of Epicurus and Lucretius, having procured a copy of Ma[pg A-37]rolles’ first edition, he sent a few days before his death for the author, and pointed out to him, with his own hand, those passages in which he thought his translation defective, and also supplied him with a number of notes in illustration of the poet. The AbbÉ was thus provided with ample materials for the improvement of his work, and so pleased was he with his second edition, that he got a prohibition against reprinting the first introduced into the PrivilÉge of the second. He inserted in it a Discours Apologetique, defending the translating and reading of Lucretius, and prefixed a dedication to M. Lamoignon, President of the Parliament, whom he now substituted for Queen Christina. Moliere having seen the first edition of Marolles’ prose translation, was thereby induced to render Lucretius into French verse. His original intention was to have versified the whole poem, but he afterwards confined his rhymes to the more decorative parts, and delivered the rest in plain prose. As he proceeded with his version, he uniformly rehearsed it both to Chapelle and Rohaut, who jointly testified their approbation of the performance. But it was destined to perish when brought very near its completion. A valet of the translator, who had charge of his dress-wig, being in want of paper to put it into curl, laid hold of a loose sheet of the version, which was immediately rent to pieces, and thrown into the fire as soon as it had performed its office. Moliere was one of the most irritable of the genus irritabile vatum, and the accident was too provoking to be endured. He resolved never to translate another line, and threw the whole remainder of his version into the flames, which had thus consumed a part of it614. This abortive attempt of Moliere incited the AbbÉ Marolles to render the whole of Lucretius into verse. He completed this task in less than four months, and published the fruits of his labour in 1677. Rapidity of execution, however, is the only merit of which he has to boast. His translation is harsh, flat, and inverted; and it is also very diffuse: The poem of Lucretius consists of 7389 lines, and the version of not less than 12338615.

Lucretius was subsequently translated into prose by the Baron des Coutures. His version, printed at Paris 1685, is somewhat better in point of style than those of Marolles, but is not more faithful to the original, being extremely paraphrastic. A Life of Lucretius, drawn up from the materials furnished by Hubert, Gifanius, Lambinus, and other commentators, is prefixed, and to every book is appended a small body of notes, which shew that the author was better acquainted with his subject than Marolles. Still, however, the poem of Lucretius was not much known in France during the seventeenth century, either in the original or translated form. Chaulieu, one of the most elegant and polished poets of that age, was so little acquainted with the moral lessons which it inculcated, as to write the following lines:—

At length La Grange translated Lucretius in 1768, and Le Blanc de Guillet in 1788. Brunet speaks highly of the version of La Grange, which he seems to think is the best in the French language, and he says that of Le Blanc de Guillet is peu recherchÉ. Mr Good, in mentioning the various translations of Lucretius, does not allude to the production of La Grange, but speaks highly of the version of Le Blanc de Guillet. He is sometimes, he admits, incorrect, and still more frequently obscure: “On the whole, however,” he continues, “it is a work of great merit, and ranks second amid the translations of Lucretius, which have yet appeared in any nation:” Of course, it ranges immediately next to that of Marchetti. This version is accompanied with the Latin text in alternate pages. It is decorated with plates, [pg A-38]illustrated by notes, and introduced by a comprehensive preliminary discourse, which contains a biography of the original author, drawn up from Gifanius and Creech, and also some general observations on the Epicurean philosophy.

The first attempt to transfer the poem of Lucretius into the English language, was made by Evelyn, the celebrated author of the Sylva. It was one of his earliest productions, having been printed in 1656. It was accompanied by an appendix of notes, which show considerable acquaintance with his subject, and there are prefixed to it complimentary letters or verses by Waller, Fanshaw, Sir Richard Brown, and Christopher Wasse. Evelyn commenced his arduous task with great enthusiasm, a due admiration of his original, and anxious desire to do it full justice. On actual trial, however, he became conscious of his own inability to produce, as he expresses it, “any traduction to equal the elegancy of the original;” and he accordingly closed his labours with the first book. To this resolution, the negligent manner in which his specimen of the translation was printed, contributed, as he alleges, in no small degree. Prefixed to the copy in the library at Wotton, is this note in his own handwriting: “Never was book so abominably misused by the printer; never copy so negligently surveyed, by one who undertook to look over the proof-sheets with all exactness and care, namely, Dr Triplet, well known for his ability, and who pretended to oblige me in my absence, and so readily offered himself. This good I received by it, that publishing it vainly, its ill success at the printer’s discouraged me with troubling the world with the rest616.” This pretended disgust, however, at the typography of his Lucretius, was probably a pretext. It is more likely that he was deterred from the farther execution of his version, either by its want of success, or by the hints which he received from some of his friends concerning the moral and religious danger of his undertaking. “For your Lucretius,” says Jeremy Taylor, in a letter to him, dated 16th April, 1656, “I perceive you have suffered the importunity of your too kind friends to prevail with you. I will not say to you that your Lucretius is as far distant from the severity of a Christian as the fair Ethiopian was from the duty of Bishop Heliodorus; for indeed it is nothing but what may become the labours of a Christian gentleman, those things only abated which our evil age needs not: for which also I hope you either have by notes, or will by preface, prepare a sufficient antidote; but since you are engaged in it, do not neglect to adorn it, and take what care of it it can require or need; for that neglect will be a reproof of your own act, and look as if you did it with an unsatisfied mind; and then you may make that to be wholly a sin, from which, only by prudence and charity, you could before be advised to abstain. But, sir, if you will give me leave, I will impose such a penance upon you, for your publication of Lucretius, as shall neither displease God nor you; and since you are busy in these things which may minister directly to learning, and indirectly to error, or the confidences of men, who, of themselves, are apt enough to hide their vices in irreligion, I know you will be willing, and will suffer to be entreated, to employ the same pen in the glorification of God, and the ministries of eucharist and prayer617.”

In 1682, Creech, who was deterred by no such religious scruples, published his translation of the whole poem of Lucretius. As a scholar, he was eminently qualified for the arduous undertaking in which he had engaged: but he wrote with such haste, that his production everywhere betrays the inaccuracies of an author who acquiesces in the first suggestions of his mind, and who is more desirous of finishing, than ambitious of finishing well. Besides, he is at all times rather anxious to communicate the simple meaning of his original, than to exhibit any portion of the ornamental garb in which it is arrayed. Hence, though generally faithful to his author, he is almost everywhere deficient in one of the most striking characteristics of the Roman poet—grandeur and felicity of expression. He is often tame, prosaic, and even doggerel; and he sometimes discovers the conceits of a vitiated taste, in the most direct opposition to the simple character and majestic genius of his Roman original. Pope said, “that Creech had greatly hurt his translation of Lucretius, by imitating Cowley, and bringing in turns even into some of the most grand parts618.” It is also remarked by Dr Drake, “that in this version the couplet has led in almost [pg A-39]every page to the most ridiculous redundancies. A want of taste, however, in the selection of language, is as conspicuous in Creech as a deficiency of skill and address in the management of his versification619.” The ample notes with which the translation is accompanied, are chiefly extracted from the works of Gassendi. A number of commendatory poems are prefixed, and among others one from Evelyn, in which he acknowledges, that Creech had succeeded in the glorious enterprize in which he himself had failed. Dryden was also much pleased with Creech’s translation, but this did not hinder him from versifying some of the higher and more ornamental passages, to which Creech had hardly done justice, as those at the beginning of the first and second books, the concluding part of the third book, against the fear of death, and of the fourth concerning the nature of love. On these fine passages Dryden bestowed the ease, the vigour, and harmony of his muse; but though executed with his accustomed spirit, his translations want the majestic solemn colouring of Lucretius, and are somewhat licentious and paraphrastic. For this, however, he accounts in his Poetical Miscellanies, in mentioning his translations in comparison with the version of Creech. “The ways of our translation,” he observes, “are very different—he follows Lucretius more closely than I have done, which became an interpreter to the whole poem, I take more liberty, because it best suited with my design, which was to make him as pleasing as I could. He had been too voluminous had he used my method in so long a work, and I had certainly taken his, had I made it my business to translate the whole.”

The translations by Creech and Dryden are both in rhyme. That of Mr Good, printed in 1805, is in blank verse, and it may well be doubted if this preference was conducive to the successful execution of his purpose. The translation is accompanied with the original text of Lucretius, printed from Wakefield’s edition, and very full notes are subjoined, containing passages exhibiting imitations of Lucretius by succeeding poets. The preface includes notices of preceding editions of his author, and the explanation of his own plan. Then follow a Life of Lucretius, and an Appendix to the Life, comprehending an analysis and defence of the system of Epicurus, with a comparative sketch of most other philosophical theories, both ancient and modern.

The translation of Mr Good was succeeded, in 1813, by that of Dr Busby, which is in rhyme, and is introduced by enormous prolegomena on the Life and Genius of Lucretius, and the Philosophy and Morals of his Poem.