On entre, on crie,
    Et c’est la vie! 
    On crie, on sort,
    Et c’est la mort!

Lastly, although much of the sentiment expressed in the Anthology is artificial, and although the language is at times offensive to modern ears, the writers almost invariably exhibit that leading quality of the Greek genius on which the late Professor Butcher was wont to insist so strongly—­its virile sanity.

For these reasons the literary world may cordially welcome a further addition to the abundant literature which already exists on the subject of the Anthology.  The principle adopted by Dr. Grundy is unquestionably sound.  He recognises that great Homer sometimes nods, that even men of real poetic genius are not always at their best, and that mere versifiers can at times, by a happy inspiration, embody an idea in language superior to the general level of their poetic compositions.  English literature of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries abounds in cases in point.  Lovelace, Montrose, and even, it may almost be said, Wither and Herrick, live mainly in public estimation owing to the composition of a small number of exquisitely felicitous verses which have raised them for ever to thrones amongst the immortals.  Dr. Grundy, therefore, has very wisely ranged over the whole wide field of Anthology translators, and has culled a flower here and a flower there.  His method in making his selections is as unimpeachable as his principle.  He has discarded all predilections based on the authority of names or on other considerations, and has simply chosen those translations which he himself likes best.

Dr. Grundy, in his preface, expresses a hope that he will be pardoned for “the human weakness” of having in many cases preferred his own translations to those of others.  That pardon will be readily extended to him, for although in a brief review of this nature it is impossible to quote his compositions at any length, it is certainly true that some at least of his translations are probably better than any that have yet been attempted.  Dr. Grundy says in his preface that he “has abided in most instances as closely as possible to the literal translations of the originals.”  That is the principle on which all, or nearly all, translators have proceeded, but the qualifying phrase—­“as closely as possible”—­has admitted of wide divergence in their practice.  In some cases, indeed, it is possible to combine strict adherence to the original text with graceful language and harmonious metre in the translation, but in a large number of instances the translator has to sacrifice one language or the other.  He has to choose between being blamed by the purist who will not admit of any expansion in the ideas of the original writer, or being accused of turning the King’s English to base uses by the employment of doubtful rhythm or cacophonous expressions.  Is it necessary to decide between these two rival schools and to condemn one of them?  Assuredly not.  Both have their merits.  An instance in point is the exquisite “Rosa Rosarum” of Dionysius, which runs thus: