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apparent contradictions in different writers about the situation of the temple of Castor and Pollux, may be easily solved.

I shall close this body of evidence with the direct testimony of Pausanias, who says in B. 1. c. 31. that "the Cephalensians particularly worship the Dioscuri; for this is the appellation, which they give to the Great Gods," or Cabiri. Again Pausanias says, in B. 3. c. 24. that " on a small promontory at Brasiæ stand some images of brass, about the height of one foot, with caps on their heads: I know not whether they are worshipped as the Dioscuri, or as the Corybantes: however, they are three in number." This passage is very curious: it establishes the truth of the remark, that the Dioscuri of the classics do not always mean Castor and Pollux ; for we are expressly told here that there were three images: Pausanias confesses that he could not discover whether these images were the Dioscuri, or the Corybantes: Now the real, as well as the fabulous, Dioscuri, were only two in number: it is unnecessary to show that these images could not be intended to represent the Corybantes; the only supposition, therefore, is, that this was a representation of the trinity.

There now remains for me only to ask whether the Alcis of Tacitus, and the Dioscuri of the classics, is not the same with the Hebrew Schechinah with the Cherubim overshadowing the mercy-seat? Whether the Cherubim are not the Fratres, and the Juvenes of Tacitus? You have given in vol. iv. p. 402, an engraving of this Hebrew symbol, which, as you remark, Philo asserts to be emblematical of the two Powers of God, sometimes called, as you well know, the two Hands of God. The real Dioscuri, or Cherubim of the classics, are often represented, as we have seen in the extract from Heynè, with their hands joined, as if they were overshadowing the Great Supreme, who is generally placed in the centre, when three figures are given, as I shall have occasion to observe in my third Letter.

I am, Reverend Sir,

With every sentiment of respect,

Beverley, April 5th, 1811.

E. H. BARKER.

* Κεφαλῇσι δὲ οἱ Διόσκουροι νομίζονται μάλιστα μεγάλους γὰρ σφᾶς οἱ ταυτῇ Θεοὺς ὀνομάζουσι.

2 *Ακρα δέ ἐστιν ἐν ταῖς Βρασιαῖς μικρὰ, προέχουσα ἠρέμα ἐς τὴν θάλασσαν· καὶ ἐπ ̓ αὐτῇ χαλκοί ποδιαίων ἐστήκασιν οὐ μείζονες πίλους ἐπὶ ταῖς κεφαλαῖς ἔχοντες· οὐκ οἶδα εἰ Διοσκούρους σφᾶς, ἢ Κορύβαντας νομίζουσι ΤΡΕΙΣ Δ' ΟΥΝ ΕΙΣΙ,

THE

IMITATIONS OF HORACE,

By PROFESSOR PORSON.

From the Spirit of the Public Journals, for 1797.

HE Poet makes a voyage to Britain, in pursuance of his promise-lib. 3. Ode iv. line 33.—"Visam Britannos hospitibus feros"-" I will visit the Britons, inhospitable to strangers." The vessel in which he sailed was called the Britannia, whether from the place of its destination, or from the circumstance of being built of British wood, I cannot determine; but, I believe, for both reasons. After a tedious voyage, at last he arrived safe at Portsmouth.-The ship was grievously shattered; but the Captain determined to go out again immediately, before she was well refitted, and while the weather was very unpromising.-Several of the crew were heard to mutter, in consequence of this proceeding; upon which the Captain, by advice of the pilot, put them in irons. But the most curious incident was (if we may believe Quintilian), that Horace was indicted for a libel, as if, under the allegory of a ship, he had intended to paint the dangers and distresses of the commonwealthWhoever peruses my version, will see how groundless and absurd this accusation was-The reader need only keep in mind that the Poet, more safe at shore, makes this pathetic address to the vessel, in which his life and fortunes were so lately risked

TO THE GOOD SHIP BRITANNIA.

BRITANNIA, while fresh storms are brewing,

I wonder what the devil you're doing!
Put back to harbour, might and main,
Nor venture out to sea again:
Your hull's too tender long to last,
You're fain to try a jury-mast;

Your tackle's old, your timber's crazy, ·

The winds are high, the weather hazy;
Your anchor's lost, you've sprung a leak;
Hark, how the ropes and cordage creak!
VOL. IV.
No. VII.

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A rag of canvass scarce remains;
Your pilot idly beats his brains-
A cub that knows not stem from stern,
Too high t' obey, too proud to learn-
In vain you worry Heav'n with pray'rs:
Think you that Heav'n one farthing cares
Whether a sailor prays or swears?

In vain you sport your threadbare joke,
And call yourself" Old Heart of Oak."

No seaman, that can box his compass,
Trusts to your daubs, or titles pompous.
Take heed, lest Boreas plays the mocker,
And cry- Tis snug in Davy's locker."
Though while on board as sick as hell,
At shore, old girl, I wish you well.
Beware of shoals-of wind and weather,
And try to keep your planks together;
Or else the rav'nous sea will gorge,
And lodge you next the Royal George.

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Nuper solicitum quæ mihi tædium;
Nunc desiderium, curaque non levis,
Interfusa nitentes

Vites æquora Cycladas!

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UNDERSTANDING that my last translation of an Ode of Horace did not displease the best judges, I have taken the liberty to send you a second attempt, which I submit to your candor. It may seem matter of wonder to you, as it does to me, that neither Quintilian, nor Will Baxter, nor any other hunter of allegories, should find out the real drift of this Ode, which is so very easy to be discovered. The case, in short, is as follows. Augustus, in the midst of peace and tranquillity, felt, or feigned, an alarm, on account of some books written by persons suspected of an attachment to the party of Cato and Brutus, and recommending republican principles. Now, Horace having been a colonel in Brutus's army, and being rather too free in professing his religious sentiments, naturally passed for an atheist and a republican. Augustus published an edict to tell his subjects how happy they all were, in spite of the suggestions of malcontents; commanding them to stick close to their old religions; and threatening, that whoever was not active in assisting the government, should be treated as an enemy to church and state. Upon this occasion Horace reador affected to read, for I will not take my oath to his sinceritya recantation. In one part of the Ode he says: "Jupiter, who generally thunders and lightens in cloudy weather, now has driven his chariot through the serene air." This is so plain an emblem of Augustus fulminating his censures in a time of perfect tranquillity, that it needs no farther comment. Our author refers to this circumstance again, CARM. vii. 5. « Cœlo tonantem credidimus Jovem regnare: præsens Divus habebitur Augustus"—" We have believed that Jupiter reigns thundering from heaven: Augustus shall be esteemed a present God." In

1 This Letter and Translation allude, with great delicacy, ingenuity, and finesse, to the alarm about republican principles, raised at the beginning of the present war.

another place he expressly calls Augustus Jupiter-EPIST. i. 19 -43. "Rides, ait, et Jovis auribus ista servas"-" You joke," says he, "and reserve your verses for the ear of Jove." For all sovereigns, while they are in power, are compared to the Sovereign of the Gods, however weak, wicked, or worthless they may be--

Nihil est quod credere de se

Non possit, cùm laudatur Dîs æqua potestas.

I must not forget to add, that this Edict of the Emperor was followed by numerous addresses from large bodies of the men, who were once called Romans. Allowing the reality of the plots, lamenting the decay of piety, and promising to resist all innovation, and to defend his sacred Cæsarean Majesty with their lives and fortunes.

HORACE, BOOK I. ODE XXXIV.

TILL now I held free-thinking notions,
Gave little heed to my devotions,

Scarce went to church four times a-year,
And then slept more than pray'd, I fear :

quit

But now I'm quite an alter'd man-
the course I lately ran;
And giving heterodoxy o'er,
Unlearn my irreligious lore.
Yet, lest you entertain a doubt,
I'll tell you how it came about.

Jove seldom lets his lightnings fly,
Except when clouds obscure the sky,

As well you know; but, t'other morning,
He thunder'd without previous warning,
And flash'd in such a perfect calm,

It gave me a religious qualm:
Nor me alone-the frightful sound
Reach'd to the country's utmost bound;

And ev'ry river in the nation
From concave shores made replication.'

1 Shakespeare's Julius Cæsar, Act I. Scene I.

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