Hast thou given the horse strength, &c.— It is difficult to express violent motions, which are fleeting and transitory, either in colours or words. In poetry, it requires great spirit in thought, and energy in style, of which we find more in the eastern poetry than in either the Greek or Roman. The great Creator, who accommodated himself to those to whom he vouchsafed to speak, has put into the mouths of his prophets such sublime sentiments and exalted language as must abash the pride and wit of man. In this book of Job, the most ancient poem in the world, we have great variety of such paintings and descriptions. The description before us, of the horse, is one of these. Homer has a fine similitude of a horse, which Virgil has copied from him, and which is thus admirably translated:
The fiery courser, when he hears from far, The sprightly trumpets, and the shouts of war,
Pricks up his ears; and, trembling with delight, Shifts pace, and paws; and hopes the promis'd fight.
On his right shoulder his thick mane reclin'd, Ruffles at speed, and dances in the wind.
His horny hoofs are jetty black, and round; His chine is double; starting, with a bound He turns the turf, and shakes the solid ground.
Fire from his eyes, clouds from his nostrils flow; He bears his rider headlong on the foe.
Now compare this with the present passage, which, under all the disadvantages of having been written in a language little understood; of being expressed in phrases peculiar to a part of the world whose manner of thinking and speaking seems strange to us; and, above all, of appearing in a prose translation, is nevertheless so transcendantly above the heathen description, that hereby we may perceive how faint and languid are the images which are formed by mortal authors, when compared with that which is figured as it were just as it appears in the eye of the Creator. All the great and sprightly images which thought can form of this generous beast, are here expressed in such force and vigour of style, as would have given the great wits of antiquity new laws for the sublime, had they been acquainted with these writings. I cannot but particularly observe, that whereas the classic poets chiefly endeavour to paint the outward figure, lineaments, and motions, the sacred poet makes all the beauties to flow from an inward principle in the creature he describes, and thereby gives great spirit and vivacity to his description. Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder? Homer and Virgil mention nothing about the neck of the horse but his mane; the sacred author, by the bold figure of thunder, not only expresses the shaking of that remarkable beauty in the horse, and the flakes of hair which naturally suggest the idea of lightning; but likewise the violent agitation and force of the neck, which in the oriental tongues had been flatly expressed by a metaphor no less bold than this. Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper? Job 39:20 an expression which contains a twofold beauty, as it not only marks the courage of the beast, by asking him if he can be affrighted; but likewise raises a noble image of his swiftness, insinuating, that if that were possible, he would bound away with the nimbleness of the grasshopper. The glory of his nostrils is terrible. This is more strong and concise than that of Virgil, which is one at least of the noblest lines that was ever written without inspiration.
Collectumque premens volvit sub naribus ignem. Georg. iii. ver. 85.
And in his nostrils rolls collected fire.
He rejoiceth in his strength—He mocketh at fear.—Neither believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet.—He saith among the trumpets, ha! ha!—are signs of courage, as I said before, flowing from an inward principle. There is a peculiar beauty in his not believing that it is the sound of the trumpet; i.e. he cannot believe it for joy. But when he is sure of it, and is among the trumpets, he saith ha! ha! he neighs; he rejoices [of which the Hebrew word האח heach, is strongly expressive]. His docility is elegantly painted, in his being unmoved at the rattling quiver, the glittering spear, and the shield. He swalloweth the ground, is an expression for prodigious swiftness, in use among the Arabians, Job's countrymen, at this day: it is the boldest and noblest of all images for swiftness. The Latins have something like it: but I have not met with any thing which comes so near it as Mr. Pope's lines in his Windsor Forest:
Th' impatient courser pants in every vein, And, pawing, seems to beat the distant plain; Hills, vales, and floods, appear already crost, And ere he starts, a thousand steps are lost.
He smelleth the battle afar off—and what follows, is a circumstance expressed with great spirit by Lucan:
So when this ring with joyful shouts resounds, With rage and pride th' imprison'd courser bounds; He frets, he foams, he rends his idle rein, Springs o'er the fence, and headlong seeks the plain. See Guardian, No. 86 and Lowth's Prel. 34.
It is but justice to our translators to observe, that their version appears greatly superior to all others, both in accuracy and elegance.