CHAPTER XV

THE GENIUS OF THE TRANSLATOR SHOULD BE AKIN TO THAT OF THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR.—THE BEST TRANSLATORS HAVE SHONE IN ORIGINAL COMPOSITION OF THE SAME SPECIES WITH THAT WHICH THEY HAVE TRANSLATED.—OF VOLTAIRE’S TRANSLATIONS FROM SHAKESPEARE.—OF THE PECULIAR CHARACTER OF THE WIT OF VOLTAIRE.—HIS TRANSLATION FROM HUDIBRAS.—EXCELLENT ANONYMOUS FRENCH TRANSLATION OF HUDIBRAS.—TRANSLATION OF RABELAIS BY URQUHART AND MOTTEUX.

From the consideration of those general rules of translation which in the foregoing essay I have endeavoured to illustrate, it will appear no unnatural conclusion to assert, that he only is perfectly accomplished for the duty of a translator who possesses a genius akin to that of the original author. I do not mean to carry this proposition so far as to affirm, that in order to give a perfect translation of the works of Cicero, a man must actually be as great an orator, or inherit the same extent of philosophical genius; but he must have a mind capable of discerning the full merits of his original, of attending with an acute perception to the whole of his reasoning, and of entering with warmth and energy of feeling into all the beauties of his composition. Thus we shall observe invariably, that the best translators have been those writers who have composed original works of the same species with those which they have translated. The mutilated version which yet remains to us of the _Timæus_ of Plato translated by Cicero, is a masterly composition, which, in the opinion of the best judges, rivals the merit of the original. A similar commendation cannot be bestowed on those fragments of the _Phænomena_ of Aratus translated into verse by the same author; for Cicero’s poetical talents were not remarkable: but who can entertain a doubt, that had time spared to us his versions of the orations of Demosthenes and Æschines, we should have found them possessed of the most transcendent merit?

We have observed, in the preceding part of this essay, that poetical translation is less subjected to restraint than prose translation, and allows more of the freedom of original composition. It will hence follow, that to exercise this freedom with propriety, a translator must have the talent of original composition in poetry; and therefore, that in this species of translation, the possession of a genius akin to that of his author, is more essentially necessary than in any other. We know the remark of Denham, that the subtle spirit of poesy evaporates entirely in the transfusion from one language into another, and that unless a new, or an original spirit, is infused by the translator himself, there will remain nothing but a _caput mortuum_. The best translators of poetry, therefore, have been those who have approved their talents in original poetical composition. Dryden, Pope, Addison, Rowe, Tickell, Pitt, Warton, Mason, and Murphy, rank equally high in the list of original poets, as in that of the translators of poetry.

But as poetical composition is various in its kind, and the characters of the different species of poetry are extremely distinct, and often opposite in their nature, it is very evident that the possession of talents adequate to one species of translation, as to one species of original poetry, will not infer the capacity of excelling in other species of which the character is different. Still further, it may be observed, that as there are certain species of poetical composition, as, for example, the dramatic, which, though of the same general character in all nations, will take a strong tincture of difference from the manners of a country, or the peculiar genius of a people; so it will be found, that a poet, eminent as an original author in his own country, may fail remarkably in attempting to convey, by a translation, an idea of the merits of a foreign work which is tinctured by the national genius of the country which produced it. Of this we have a striking example in those translations from Shakespeare by Voltaire; in which the French poet, eminent himself in dramatical composition, intended to convey to his countrymen a just idea of our most celebrated author in the same department. But Shakespeare and Voltaire, though perhaps akin to each other in some of the great features of the mind, were widely distinguished, even by nature, in the characters of their poetical genius; and this natural distinction was still more sensibly increased by the general tone of manners, the _hue and fashion_ of thought of their respective countries. Voltaire, in his essay _sur la Tragédie Angloise_, has chosen the famous soliloquy in the tragedy of Hamlet, “_To be, or not to be_,” as one of those striking passages which best exemplify the genius of Shakespeare, and which, in the words of the French author, _demandent grace pour toutes ses fautes_. It may therefore be presumed, that the translator in this instance endeavoured, as far as lay in his power, not only to adopt the spirit of his author, but to represent him as favourably as possible to his countrymen. Yet, how wonderfully has he metamorphosed, how miserably disfigured him! In the original, we have the perfect picture of a mind deeply agitated, giving vent to its feelings in broken starts of utterance, and in language which plainly indicates, that the speaker is reasoning solely with his own mind, and not with any auditor. In the translation, we have a formal and connected harangue, in which it would appear, that the author, offended with the abrupt manner of the original, and judging those irregular starts of expression to be unsuitable to that precision which is required in abstract reasoning, has corrected, as he thought, those defects of the original, and given union, strength, and precision, to this philosophical argument.

Demeure, il faut choisir, et passer à l’instant De la vie à la mort, ou de l’être au néant. Dieux justes, s’il en est, éclairez mon courage. Faut-il vieillir courbé sous la main qui m’outrage, Supporter, ou finir mon malheur et mon sort? Que suis-je? qui m’arrête? et qu’est ce que la mort? C’est la fin de nos maux, c’est mon unique azile; Apres de longs transports, c’est un sommeil tranquile. On s’endort et tout meurt; mais un affreux reveil, Doit succéder peut-être aux douceurs du sommeil. On nous menace; on dit que cette courte vie De tourmens éternels est aussitôt suivie. O mort! moment fatale! affreuse éternité! Tout cœur à ton seul nom se glace épouvanté. Eh! qui pourrait sans toi supporter cette vie? De nos prêtres menteurs bénir l’hypocrisie? D’une indigne maitresse encenser les erreurs? Ramper sous un ministre, adorer ses hauteurs? Et montrer les langueurs de son âme abattue, A des amis ingrats qui detournent la vue? La mort serait trop douce en ces extrémités. Mais le scrupule parle, et nous crie, arrêtez. Il defend à nos mains cet heureux homicide, Et d’un héros guerrier, fait un Chrétien timide.[68]

Besides the general fault already noticed, of substituting formal and connected reasoning, to the desultory range of thought and abrupt transitions of the original, Voltaire has in this passage, by the looseness of his paraphrase, allowed some of the most striking beauties, both of the thought and expression, entirely to escape; while he has superadded, with unpardonable licence, several ideas of his own, not only unconnected with the original, but dissonant to the general tenor of the speaker’s thoughts, and foreign to his character. Adopting Voltaire’s own style of criticism on the translations of the Abbé des Fontaines, we may ask him, “Where do we find, in this translation of Hamlet’s soliloquy,

“The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune—— To take arms against a sea of troubles—— The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to—— Perchance to dream; ay, there’s the rub—— The whips and scorns of time—— The law’s delay, the insolence of office—— The spurns—that patient merit from th’ unworthy takes—— That undiscover’d country, from whose bourne No traveller returns——?”

Can Voltaire, who has omitted in this short passage all the above striking peculiarities of thought and expression, be said to have given a translation from Shakespeare?

But in return for what he has retrenched from his author, he has made a liberal addition of several new and original ideas of his own. Hamlet, whose character in Shakespeare exhibits the strongest impressions of religion, who feels these impressions even to a degree of superstition, which influences his conduct in the most important exigences, and renders him weak and irresolute, appears in Mr. Voltaire’s translation a thorough sceptic and freethinker. In the course of a few lines, he expresses his doubt of the existence of a God; he treats the priests as liars and hypocrites, and the Christian religion as a system which debases human nature, and makes a coward of a hero:

Dieux justes! S’il en est—— De nos prêtres menteurs bénir l’hypocrisie—— Et d’un héros guerrier, fait un Chrêtien timide——

Now, who gave Mr. Voltaire a right thus to transmute the pious and superstitious Hamlet into a modern _philosophe_ and _Esprit fort_? Whether the French author meant by this transmutation to convey to his countrymen a favourable idea of our English bard, we cannot pretend to say; but we may at least affirm, that he has not conveyed a just one.[69]

But what has prevented the translator, who professes that he wished to give a just idea of the merits of his original, from accomplishing what he wished? Not ignorance of the language; for Voltaire, though no great critic in the English tongue, had yet a competent knowledge of it; and the change he has put upon the reader was not involuntary, or the effect of ignorance. Neither was it the want of genius, or of poetical talents; for Voltaire is certainly one of the best poets, and one of the greatest ornaments of the drama. But it was the original difference of his genius and that of Shakespeare, increased by the general opposition of the national character of the French and English. His mind, accustomed to connect all ideas of dramatic sublimity or beauty with regular design and perfect symmetry of composition, could not comprehend this union of the great and beautiful with irregularity of structure and partial disproportion. He was capable indeed of discerning some features of majesty in this colossal statue; but the rudeness of the parts, and the want of polish in the whole figure, prevailed over the general impression of its grandeur, and presented it altogether to his eye as a monstrous production.

The genius of Voltaire was more akin to that of Dryden, of Waller, of Addison, and of Pope, than to that of Shakespeare: he has therefore succeeded much better in the translations he has given of particular passages from these poets, than in those he has attempted from our great master of the drama.

Voltaire possessed a large share of wit; but it is of a species peculiar to himself, and which I think has never yet been analysed. It appears to me to be the result of acute philosophical talents, a strong spirit of satire, and a most brilliant imagination. As all wit consists in unexpected combinations, the singular union of a philosophic thought with a lively fancy, which is a very uncommon association, seems in general to be the basis of the wit of Voltaire. It is of a very different species from that wit which is associated with humour, which is exercised in presenting odd, extravagant, but natural views of human character, and which forms the essence of ludicrous composition. The novels of Voltaire have no other scope than to illustrate certain philosophical doctrines, or to expose certain philosophical errors; they are not pictures of life or of manners; and the persons who figure in them are pure creatures of the imagination, fictitious beings, who have nothing of nature in their composition, and who neither act nor reason like the ordinary race of men. Voltaire, then, with a great deal of wit, seems to have had no talent for humorous composition. Now if such is the character of his original genius, we may presume, that he was not capable of justly estimating in the compositions of others what he did not possess himself. We may likewise fairly conclude, that he should fail in attempting to convey by a translation a just idea of the merits of a work, of which one of the main ingredients is that quality in which he was himself deficient. Of this I proceed to give a strong example.

In the poem of _Hudibras_, we have a remarkable combination of Wit with Humour; nor is it easy to say which of these qualities chiefly predominates in the composition. A proof that humour forms a most capital ingredient is, that the inimitable Hogarth has told the whole story of the poem in a series of characteristic prints: now painting is completely adequate to the representation of humour, but can convey no idea of wit. Of this singular poem, Voltaire has attempted to give a specimen to his countrymen by a translation; but in this experiment he says he has found it necessary to concentrate the first four hundred lines into little more than eighty of the translation.[70] The truth is, that, either insensible of that part of the merit of the original, or conscious of his own inability to give a just idea of it, he has left out all that constitutes the humour of the painting, and attached himself solely to the wit of the composition. In the original, we have a description of the figure, dress, and accoutrements of Sir Hudibras, which is highly humorous, and which conveys to the imagination as complete a picture as is given by the characteristic etchings of Hogarth. In the translation of Voltaire, all that we learn of those particulars which _paint_ the hero, is, that he wore mustachios, and rode with a pair of pistols.

Even the wit of the original, in passing through the alembic of Voltaire, has changed in a great measure its nature, and assimilated itself to that which is peculiar to the translator. The wit of Butler is more concentrated, more pointed, and is announced in fewer words, than the wit of Voltaire. The translator, therefore, though he pretends to have abridged four hundred verses into eighty, has in truth effected this by the retrenchment of the wit of his original, and not by the concentration of it: for when we compare any particular passage or point, we find there is more diffusion in the translation than in the original. Thus, Butler says,

The difference was so small, his brain Outweigh’d his rage but half a grain; Which made some take him for a tool That knaves do work with, call’d a fool.

Thus amplified by Voltaire, and at the same time imperfectly translated.

Mais malgré sa grande eloquence, Et son mérite, et sa prudence, Il passa chez quelques savans Pour être un de ces instrumens Dont les fripons avec addresse Savent user sans dire mot, Et qu’ils tournent avec souplesse; Cet instrument s’appelle un sot.

Thus likewise the famous simile of Taliacotius, loses, by the amplification of the translator, a great portion of its spirit.

So learned Taliacotius from The brawny part of porter’s bum Cut supplemental noses, which Would last as long as parent breech; But, when the date of nock was out, Off dropt the sympathetic snout.

Ainsi Taliacotius, Grand Esculape d’Etrurie, Répara tous les nez perdus Par une nouvelle industrie: Il vous prenoit adroitement Un morceau du cul d’un pauvre homme, L’appliquoit au nez proprement; Enfin il arrivait qu’en somme, Tout juste à la mort du prêteur Tombait le nez de l’emprunteur, Et souvent dans la même bière, Par justice et par bon accord, On remettait au gré du mort Le nez auprès de son derriere.

It will be allowed, that notwithstanding the supplemental witticism of the translator, contained in the last four lines, the simile loses, upon the whole, very greatly by its diffusion. The following anonymous Latin version of this simile is possessed of much higher merit, as, with equal brevity of expression, it conveys the whole spirit of the original.

_Sic adscititios nasos de clune torosi_ _Vectoris doctâ secuit Talicotius arte,_ _Qui potuere parent durando æquare parentem:_ _At postquam fato clunis computruit, ipsum_ _Unâ sympathicum cœpit tabescere rostrum._

With these translations may be compared the following, which is taken from a complete version of the poem of _Hudibras_, a very remarkable work, with the merits of which (as the book is less known than it deserves to be) I am glad to have this opportunity of making the English reader acquainted:

Ainsi Talicot d’une fesse Savoit tailler avec addresse Nez tous neufs, qui ne risquoient rien Tant que le cul se portoit bien; Mais si le cul perdoit la vie, Le nez tomboit par sympathie.

In one circumstance of this passage no translation can come up to the original: it is in that additional pleasantry which results from the structure of the verses, the first line ending most unexpectedly with a preposition, and the third with a pronoun, both which are the rhyming syllables in the two couplets:

So learned Taliacotius _from_, &c. Cut supplemental noses, _which_, &c.

It was perhaps impossible to imitate this in a translation; but setting this circumstance aside, the merit of the latter French version seems to me to approach very near to that of the original.

The author of this translation of the poem of _Hudibras_, evidently a man of superior abilities,[71] appears to have been endowed with an uncommon share of modesty. He presents his work to the public with the utmost diffidence; and, in a short preface, humbly deprecates its censure for the presumption that may be imputed to him in attempting that which the celebrated Voltaire had declared to be one of the most difficult of tasks. Yet this task he has executed in a very masterly manner. A few specimens will shew the high merit of this work, and clearly evince, that the translator possessed that essential requisite for his undertaking, a kindred genius with that of his great original.

The religion of Hudibras is thus described:

For his religion, it was fit To match his learning and his wit: ’Twas Presbyterian true blue; For he was of that stubborn crew Of errant saints, whom all men grant To be the true church-militant: Such as do build their faith upon The holy text of pike and gun; Decide all controversies by Infallible artillery; And prove their doctrine orthodox, By apostolic blows and knocks.

_Canto_ 1.

Sa réligion au genie Et sçavoir étoit assortie; Il étoit franc Presbyterien, Et de sa secte le soutien, Secte, qui justement se vante D’être l’Eglise militante; Qui de sa foi vous rend raison Par la bouche de son canon, Dont le boulet et feu terrible Montre bien qu’elle est infallible, Et sa doctrine prouve à tous Orthodoxe, à force de coups.

In the following passage, the arch ratiocination of the original is happily rivalled in the translation:

For Hudibras wore but one spur, As wisely knowing could he stir To active trot one side of’s horse, The other would not hang an a—se.

Car Hudibras avec raison Ne se chaussoit qu’un éperon, Ayant preuve démonstrative Qu’un coté marchant, l’autre arrive.

The language of Sir Hudibras is described as a strange jargon, compounded of English, Greek, and Latin,

Which made some think when he did gabble They’d heard three labourers of Babel, Or Cerberus himself pronounce A leash of languages at once.

It was difficult to do justice in the translation to the metaphor of Cerberus, by translating _leash of languages_: This, however, is very happily effected by a parallel witticism:

Ce qui pouvoit bien faire accroire Quand il parloit à l’auditoire, D’entendre encore le bruit mortel De trois ouvriers de Babel, Ou Cerbere aux ames errantes Japper trois langues différentes.

The wit of the following passage is completely transfused, perhaps even heightened in the translation:

For he by geometric scale Could take the size of pots of ale; Resolve by sines and tangents straight If bread or butter wanted weight; And wisely tell what hour o’ th’ day The clock does strike, by algebra.

En géometre raffiné Un pot de bierre il eut jaugé; Par tangente et sinus sur l’heure Trouvé le poids de pain ou beurre, Et par algebre eut dit aussi A quelle heure il sonne midi.

The last specimen I shall give from this work, is Hudibras’s consultation with the lawyer, in which the Knight proposes to prosecute Sidrophel in an action of battery:

Quoth he, there is one Sidrophel Whom I have cudgell’d—“Very well.”— And now he brags t’have beaten me. “Better and better still, quoth he.”— And vows to stick me to the wall Where’er he meets me—“Best of all.”— ’Tis true, the knave has taken’s oath That I robb’d him—“Well done, in troth.”— When h’ has confessed he stole my cloak, And pick’d my fob, and what he took, Which was the cause that made me bang him And take my goods again—“Marry, hang him.” ——“Sir,” quoth the lawyer, “not to flatter ye, You have as good and fair a battery As heart can wish, and need not shame The proudest man alive to claim: For if they’ve us’d you as you say; Marry, quoth I, God give you joy: I would it were my case, I’d give More than I’ll say, or you believe.”

Il est, dit-il, de par le monde Un Sidrophel, que Dieu confonde, Que j’ai rossé des mieux. “Fort bien”— Et maintenant il dit, le chien, Qu’il m’a battu.—“Bien mieux encore.”— Et jure, afin qu’on ne l’ignore, Que s’il me trouve il me tuera— “Le meilleur de tout le voila”— Il est vrai que ce misérable A fait serment au préalable Que moi je l’ai dévalisé— “C’est fort bien fait, en vérité”— Tandis que lui-meme il confesse, Qu’il m’a volé dans une presse, Mon manteau, mon gousset vuidé; Et c’est pourquoi je l’ai rossé; Puis mes effets j’ai sçu reprendre— “Oui da,” dit-il, “il faut le pendre.” ——Dit l’avocat, “sans flatterie, Vous avez, Monsieur, batterie Aussi bonne qu’on puisse avoir; Vous devez vous en prévaloir. S’ils vous ont traité de la sorte, Comme votre recit le porte, Je vous en fais mon compliment; Je voudrais pour bien de l’argent, Et plus que vous ne sauriez croire, Qu’il m’arrivât pareille histoire.”

These specimens are sufficient to shew how completely this translator has entered into the spirit of his original, and has thus succeeded in conveying a very perfect idea to his countrymen of one of those works which are most strongly tinctured with the peculiarities of national character, and which therefore required a singular coincidence of the talents of the translator with those of the original author.

If the English can boast of any parallel to this, in a version from the French, where the translator has given equal proof of a kindred genius to that of his original, and has as successfully accomplished a task of equal difficulty, it is in the translation of Rabelais, begun by Sir Thomas Urquhart, and finished by Mr. Motteux, and lastly, revised and corrected by Mr. Ozell. The difficulty of translating this work, arises less from its obsolete style, than from a phraseology peculiar to the author, which he seems to have purposely rendered obscure, in order to conceal that satire which he levels both against the civil government and the ecclesiastical policy of his country. Such is the studied obscurity of this satire, that but a very few of the most learned and acute among his own countrymen have professed to understand Rabelais in the original. The history of the English translation of this work, is in itself a proof of its very high merit. The three first books were translated by Sir Thomas Urquhart, but only two of them were published in his lifetime. Mr. Motteux, a Frenchman by birth, but whose long residence in England had given him an equal command of both languages, republished the work of Urquhart, and added the remaining three books translated by himself. In this publication he allows the excellence of the work of his predecessor, whom he declares to have been a complete master of the French language, and to have possessed both learning and fancy equal to the task he undertook. He adds, that he has preserved in his translation “the very style and air of his original;” and finally, “that the English readers may now understand that author better in their own tongue, than many of the French can do in theirs.” The work thus completed in English, was taken up by Mr. Ozell, a person of considerable literary abilities, and who possessed an uncommon knowledge both of the ancient and modern languages. Of the merits of the translation, none could be a better judge, and to these he has given the strongest testimony, by adopting it entirely in his new edition, and limiting his own undertaking solely to the correction of the text of Urquhart and Motteux, to which he has added a translation of the notes of M. Du Chat, who spent, as Mr. Ozell informs us, forty years in composing annotations on the original work. The English version of Rabelais thus improved, may be considered, in its present form, as one of the most perfect specimens of the art of translation. The best critics in both languages have borne testimony to its faithful transfusion of the sense, and happy imitation of the style of the original; and every English reader will acknowledge, that it possesses all the ease of original composition. If I have forborne to illustrate any of the rules or precepts of the preceding Essay from this work, my reasons were, that obscurity I have already noticed, which rendered it less fit for the purpose of such illustration, and that strong tincture of licentiousness which characterises the whole work.

APPENDIX

No. I

_STANZAS from TICKELL’S Ballad of COLIN AND LUCY_

_Translated by LE MIERRE_

Cheres compagnes, je vous laisse; Une voix semble m’apeller, Une main que je vois sans cesse Me fait signe de m’en aller.

L’ingrat que j’avois cru sincere Me fait mourir, si jeune encor: Une plus riche a sçu lui plaire: Moi qui l’aimois, voila mon sort!

Ah Colin! ah! que vas tu faire? Rends moi mon bien, rends-moi ta foi; Et toi que son cœur me préfère De ses baisers détourne toi.

Dès le matin en épousée À l’église il te conduira; Mais homme faux, fille abusée, Songez que Lucy sera là.

Filles, portez-moi vers ma fosse; Que l’ingrat me rencontre alors, Lui, dans son bel habit de noce, Et Lucy sous le drap des morts.

_I hear a voice you cannot hear,_ _Which says I must not stay;_ _I see a hand you cannot see,_ _Which beckons me away._

_By a false heart, and broken vows,_ _In early youth I die;_ _Am I to blame, because his bride_ _Is thrice as rich as I?_

_Ah Colin, give not her thy vows,_ _Vows due to me alone;_ _Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kiss,_ _Nor think him all thy own._

_To-morrow in the church to wed,_ _Impatient both prepare,_ _But know, fond maid, and know, false man,_ _That Lucy will be there._

_There bear my corse, ye comrades, bear,_ _The bridegroom blithe to meet;_ _He in his wedding-trim so gay,_ _I in my winding-sheet._

No. II

_ODE V. of the First Book of HORACE_

_Translated by MILTON_

_Quis multa gracilis, &c._

What slender youth, bedew’d with liquid odours, Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave? Pyrrha, for whom bind’st thou In wreaths thy golden hair,

Plain in thy neatness? O how oft shall he On faith and changed Gods complain, and seas Rough with black winds, and storms Unwonted, shall admire.

Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold, Who always vacant, always amiable, Hopes thee; of flattering gales Unmindful? Hapless they

To whom thou untry’d seem’st fair. Me in my vow’d Picture the sacred wall declares t’have hung My dank and dropping weeds To the stern God of sea.

No. III

_The beginning of the VIIIth Book of the ILIAD_

_Translated by T. HOBBES_

The morning now was quite display’d, and Jove Upon Olympus’ highest top was set; And all the Gods and Goddesses above, By his command, were there together met. And Jupiter unto them speaking, said, You Gods all, and you Goddesses, d’ye hear! Let none of you the Greeks or Trojans aid: I cannot do my work for you: forbear! For whomsoever I assisting see The Argives or the Trojans, be it known, He wounded shall return, and laught at be, Or headlong into Tartarus be thrown; Into the deepest pit of Tartarus, Shut in with gates of brass, as much below The common hell, as ’tis from hell to us. But if you will my power by trial know, Put now into my hand a chain of gold, And let one end thereof lie on the plain, And all you Gods and Goddesses take hold, You shall not move me, howsoe’er you strain At th’ other end, if I my strength put to ’t, I’ll pull you Gods and Goddesses to me, Do what you can, and earth and sea to boot, And let you hang there till my power you see. The Gods were out of countenance at this, And to such mighty words durst not reply, &c.

No. IV

A very learned and ingenious friend,[72] to whom I am indebted for some very just remarks, of which I have availed myself in the preceding Essay, has furnished me with the following acute, and, as I think, satisfactory explanation of a passage in Tacitus, extremely obscure in itself, and concerning the meaning of which the commentators are not agreed. “Tacitus meaning to say, ‘That Domitian, wishing to be the great, and indeed the only object in the empire, and that no body should appear with any sort of lustre in it but himself, was exceedingly jealous of the great reputation which Agricola had acquired by his skill in war,’ expresses himself thus:

In Vit. Agr. cap. 39

“_Id sibi maxime formidolosum, privati hominis nomen suprà principis attolli. Frustra studia fori, et civilium artium decus in silentium acta, si militarem gloriam alius occuparet: et cætera utcunque facilius dissimulari, ducis boni imperatoriam virtutem esse._ Which Gordon translates thus: ‘Terrible above all things it was to him, that the name of a private man should be exalted above that of the Prince. In vain had he driven from the public tribunals all pursuits of popular eloquence and fame, in vain repressed the renown of every civil accomplishment, if any other than himself possessed the glory of excelling in war: Nay, however he might dissemble every other distaste, yet to the person of Emperor properly appertained the virtue and praise of being a great general.’

“This translation is very good, as far as the words ‘civil accomplishment,’ but what follows is not, in my opinion, the meaning of Tacitus’s words, which I would translate thus:

“‘If any other than himself should become a great object in the empire, as that man must necessarily be who possesses military glory. For however he might conceal a value for excellence of every other kind, and even affect a contempt of it, yet he could not but allow, that skill in war, and the talents of a great General, were an ornament to the Imperial dignity itself.’

“Domitian did not pretend to any skill in war; and therefore the word ‘_alius_’ could never be intended to express a competitor with him in it.”

FOOTNOTES

[1] Vertere Græca in Latinum, veteres nostri oratores optimum judicabant. Id se Lucius Crassus, in illis Ciceronis de oratore libris, dicit factitasse. Id Cicero suâ ipse personâ frequentissimè præcipit. Quin etiam libros Platonis atque Xenophontis edidit, hoc genere translatos. Id Messalæ placuit, multæque sunt ab eo scriptæ ad hunc modum orationes (_Quinctil. Inst. Orat._ l. 10, c. 5).

Utile imprimis, ut multi præcipiunt, vel ex Græco in Latinum, vel ex Latino vertere in Græcum: quo genere exercitationis, proprietas splendorque verborum, copia figurarum, vis explicandi, præterea imitatione optimorum, similia inveniendi facultas paratur: simul quæ legentem fefellissent, transferentem fugere non possunt (_Plin. Epist._ l. 7, ep. 7).

[2] There remain of Cicero’s translations some fragments of the _Œconomics_ of Xenophon, the _Timæus_ of Plato, and part of a poetical version of the _Phenomena_ of Aratus.

[3] When the first edition of this Essay was published, the Author had not seen Dr. Campbell’s new translation of the Gospels, a most elaborate and learned work, in one of the preliminary dissertations to which, that ingenious writer has treated professedly “Of the chief things to be attended to in translating.” The general laws of the art as briefly laid down in the first part of that dissertation are individually the same with those contained in this Essay; a circumstance which, independently of that satisfaction which always arises from finding our opinions warranted by the concurring judgement of persons of distinguished ingenuity and taste, affords a strong presumption that those opinions are founded in nature and in common sense. Another work on the same subject had likewise escaped the Author’s observation when he first published this Essay; an elegant poem on translation, by Mr. Francklin, the ingenious translator of Sophocles and Lucian. It is, however, rather an apology of the art, and a vindication of its just rank in the scale of literature, than a didactic work explanatory of its principles. But above all, the Author has to regret, that, in spite of his most diligent research, he has never yet been fortunate enough to meet with the work of a celebrated writer, professedly on the subject of translation, the treatise of M. Huet, Bishop of Avranches, _De optimo genere interpretandi_; of whose doctrines, however, he has some knowledge, from a pretty full extract of his work in the _Dictionnaire Encyclopédique de Grammaire et Litterature_, article _Traduction_.

[4] Founding upon this principle, which he has by no means proved, That the arrangement of the Greek and Latin languages is the order of nature, and that the modern tongues ought never to deviate from that order, but for the sake of sense, perspicuity, or harmony; he proceeds to lay down such rules as the following: That the periods of the translation should accord in all their parts with those of the original—that their order, and even their length, should be the same—that all conjunctions should be scrupulously preserved, as being the joints or articulations of the members—that all adverbs should be ranged next to the verb, &c. It may be confidently asserted, that the Translator who shall endeavour to conform himself to these rules, even with the licence allowed of sacrificing to sense, perspicuity, and harmony, will produce, on the whole, a very sorry composition, which will be far from reflecting a just picture of his original.

[5]

Such is our pride, our folly, or our fate, That few, but such as cannot write, translate.

_Denham to Sir R. Fanshaw._

hands impure dispense The sacred streams of ancient eloquence; Pedants assume the task for scholars fit, And blockheads rise interpreters of wit.

_Translation by Francklin._

[6] _Batteux de la Construction Oratoire_, par. 2, ch. 4. Such likewise appears to be the opinion of M. Huet: “_Optimum ergo illum esse dico interpretandi modum, quum auctoris sententiæ primum, deinde ipsis etiam, si ita fert utriusque linguæ facultas, verbis arctissimè adhæret interpres, et nativum postremo auctoris characterem, quoad ejus fieri potest, adumbrat; idque unum studet, ut nulla cum detractione imminutum, nullo additamento auctum, sed integrum, suique omni ex parte simillimum, perquam fideliter exhibeat.—Universè ergo verbum, de verbo exprimendum, et vocum etiam collocationem retinendam esse pronuncio, id modo per linguæ qua utitur interpres facultatem liceat_” (Huet de Interpretatione, lib. 1).

[7] Dom Vincent Thuillier.

[8] _Mémoires militaires de M. Guischardt._

[9] Dr. George Campbell, _Preliminary Dissertations to a new Translation of the Gospels_.

[10] _Cic. de Fin._ l. 2.

[11] _Cic. Tusc. Quæst._ l. 4.

[12] _Trans. of Royal Soc. of Edin._ vol. 3.

[13] The excellent translation of Tacitus by Mr. Murphy had not appeared when the first edition of this Essay was published.

[14] Mr. Gordon has translated the words _ad tempus_, “in pressing emergencies;” and Mr. Murphy, “in sudden emergencies only.” This sense is, therefore, probably warranted by good authorities. But it is evidently not the sense of the author in this passage, as the context sufficiently indicates.

[15] There is a French translation of this ballad by Le Mierre, which, though not in all respects equal to that of Bourne, has yet a great deal of the tender simplicity of the original. See a few stanzas in the Appendix, No. I.

[16] From the modern allusion, _barrieres du Louvre_, this passage, strictly speaking, falls under the description of imitation, rather than of translation. See _postea_, ch. xi.

[17] In the poetical works of Milton, we find many noble imitations of detached passages of the ancient classics; but there is nothing that can be termed a translation, unless an English version of Horace’s _Ode to Pyrrha_; which it is probable the author meant as a whimsical experiment of the effect of a strict conformity in English both to the expression and measure of the Latin. See this singular composition in the Appendix, No. 2.

[18]

That servile path thou nobly dost decline, Of tracing word by word, and line by line. A new and nobler way thou dost pursue, To make translations and translators too: They but preserve the ashes, thou the flame; True to his sense, but truer to his fame.

DENHAM to Sir R. FANSHAW.

[19] One of the best passages of Fanshaw’s translation of the _Pastor Fido_, is the celebrated apostrophe to the spring—

Spring, the year’s youth, fair mother of new flowers, New leaves, new loves, _drawn by the winged hours_, Thou art return’d; but the felicity Thou brought’st me last is not return’d with thee. Thou art return’d; but nought returns with thee, Save my lost joy’s regretful memory. Thou art the self-same thing thou wert before, As fair and jocund: but I am no more The thing I was, so gracious in her sight, _Who is heaven’s masterpiece and earth’s delight_. O bitter sweets of love! far worse it is To lose than never to have tasted bliss.

O Primavera gioventu del anno, Bella madre di fiori, D’herbe novelle, e di novelli amori: Tu torni ben, ma teco, Non tornano i sereni, E fortunati dì de le mie gioie! Tu torni ben, tu torni, Ma teco altro non torna Che del perduto mio caro tesoro La rimembranza misera e dolente. Tu quella se’ tu quella, Ch’eri pur dianzi vezzosa e bella. Ma non son io già quel ch’un tempo fui, Sì caro a gli occhi altrui. O dolcezze amarissime d’amore! Quanto è più duro perdervi, che mai Non v’haver ò provate, ò possedute!

_Pastor Fido_, act 3, sc. 1.

In those parts of the English version which are marked in Italics, there is some attempt towards a freedom of translation; but it is a freedom of which Sandys and May had long before given many happier specimens.

[20] I am happy to find this opinion, for which I have been blamed by some critics, supported by so respectable an authority as that of M. Delille; whose translation of the _Georgics_ of Virgil, though censurable, (as I shall remark) in a few particulars, is, on the whole, a very fine performance: “Il faut etre quelquefois superieur à son original, précisément parce qu’on lui est très-inférieur.” _Delille Disc. Prelim. à la Trad. des Georgiques._ Of the same opinion is the elegant author of the poem on Translation.

Unless an author like a mistress warms, How shall we _hide his faults_, or taste his charms? How all his modest, latent beauties find; How trace each lovelier feature of the mind; _Soften each blemish_, and _each grace improve_, And treat him with the dignity of love?

FRANCKLIN.

[21] Witness the attempt of a translator of no ordinary ability.

Pulchra mari, crocea surgens in veste, per omnes Fundebat sese terras Aurora: deorum Summo concilium cœlo regnator habebat. Cuncta silent: Solio ex alto sic Jupiter orsus.

Huc aures cuncti, mentesque advertite vestras, Dîque Deæque, loquar dum quæ fert corde voluntas, Dicta probate omnes; neve hinc præcidere quisquam Speret posse aliquid, seu mas seu fœmina. Siquis Auxilio veniens, dura inter prælia, Troas Juverit, aut Danaos, fœde remeabit Olympum Saucius: arreptumve obscura in Tartara longè Demittam ipse manu jaciens; immane barathrum Altè ubi sub terram vasto descendit hiatu, Orcum infra, quantum jacet infra sidera tellus: Ære solum, æterno ferri stant robore portæ. Quam cunctis melior sim Dîs, tum denique discet. Quin agite, atque meas jam nunc cognoscite vires, Ingentem heic auro e solido religate catenam, Deinde manus cuncti validas adhibete, trahentes Ad terram: non ulla fuat vis tanta, laborque, Cœlesti qui sede Jovem deducere possit. Ast ego vos, terramque et magni cœrula ponti Stagna traham, dextra attollens, et vertice Olympi Suspendam: vacuo pendebunt aëre cuncta. Tantum supra homines mea vis, et numina supra est.

_Ilias Lat. vers. express. a Raym. Cunighio_, _Rom._ 1776.

[22] See a translation of this passage by Hobbes, in the true spirit of the _Bathos_. Appendix, No. III.

[23] A similar instance of good taste occurs in the following translation of an epigram of Martial, where the indelicacy of the original is admirably corrected, and the sense at the same time is perfectly preserved:

_Vis fieri liber? mentiris, Maxime, non vis:_ _Sed fieri si vis, hac ratione potes._ _Liber eris, cœnare foris, si, Maxime, nolis:_ _Veientana tuam si domat uva sitim:_ _Si ridere potes miseri Chrysendeta Cinnæ:_ _Contentus nostrâ si potes esse togâ._ _Si plebeia Venus gemino tibi vincitur asse:_ _Si tua non rectus tecta subire potes:_ _Hæc tibi si vis est, si mentis tanta potestas,_ _Liberior Partho vivere rege potes._

MART. lib. 2, ep. 53.

Non, d’etre libre, cher Paulin, Vous n’avez jamais eu l’envie; Entre nous, votre train de vie N’en est point du tout le chemin.

Il vous faut grand’chere, bon vin, Grand jeu, nombreuse compagnie, Maitresse fringante et jolie, Et robe du drap le plus fin.

Il faudrait aimer, au contraire, Vin commun, petit ordinaire, Habit simple, un ou deux amis; Jamais de jeu, point d’Amarante: Voyez si le parti vous tente, La liberté n’est qu’à ce prix.

[24] Fitzosborne’s _Letters_, l. 19.

[25] Thus likewise translated with great beauty of poetry, and sufficient fidelity to the original:

Ut lunam circa fulgent cum lucida pulchro Astra choro, nusquam cœlo dum nubila, nusquam Aerios turbant ventorum flamina campos; Apparent speculæ, nemoroso et vertice montes Frondiferi et saltus; late se fulgidus æther Pandit in immensum, penitusque abstrusa remoto Signa polo produnt longe sese omnia; gaudet Visa tuens, hæretque immoto lumine pastor.

_Ilias Lat. vers. a Raym. Cunighio_, _Rom._ 1776.

[26] Dr. Beattie, _Dissertation on Poetry and Music_, p. 357. 4to. ed.

[27] Fitzosborne’s _Letters_, 43.

[28] It is amusing to observe the conceit of this author, and the compliment he imagines he pays to the taste of his patron, in applauding this miserable composition: “Adeo tibi placuit, ut quædam etiam in melius mutasse tibi visus fuerim.” With similar arrogance and absurdity, he gives Milton credit for the materials only of the poem, assuming to himself the whole merit of its structure: “Miltonus Paradisum Amissum invenerat; ergo Miltoni hìc lana est, at mea tela tamen.”

[29] _Third Preliminary Diss. to New Translation of the Four Gospels._

[30] “His affectation of the manner of some of the poets and orators has metamorphosed the authors he interpreted, and stript them of the venerable signatures of antiquity, which so admirably befit them; and which, serving as intrinsic evidence of their authenticity, recommend their writings to the serious and judicious. Whereas, when accoutred in this new fashion, nobody would imagine them to have been Hebrews; and yet, (as some critics have justly remarked), it has not been within the compass of Castalio’s art, to make them look like Romans.” Dr. Campbell’s 10th _Prelim. Diss._

[31] Dr. Campbell, 10th _Prel. Diss._ part 2.

[32] The language of that ludicrous work, _Epistolæ obscurorum virorum_, is an imitation, and by no means an exaggerated picture, of the style of _Arias Montanus’s_ version of the Scriptures. _Vos bene audivistis qualiter Papa habuit unum magnum animal quod vocatum fuit Elephas; et habuit ipsum in magno honore, et valde amavit illud. Nunc igitur debetis scire, quod tale animal est mortuum. Et quando fuit infirmum, tunc Papa fuit in magna tristitia, et vocavit medicos plures, et dixit eis: Si est possibile, sanate mihi Elephas. Tunc fecerunt magnam diligentiam, et viderunt ei urinam, et dederunt ei unam purgationem quæ constat quinque centum aureos, sed tamen non potuerunt Elephas facere merdare, et sic est mortuum; et Papa dolet multum super Elephas; quia fuit mirabile animal, habens longum rostrum in magna quantitate.—Ast ego non curabo ista mundana negotia, quæ afferunt perditionem animæ. Valete._

[33] _Lond._ 1691.

[34]

_Sectantem levia nervi_ _Deficiunt animique: professus grandia turget:_ _Serpit humi tutus nimium timidusque procellæ._ _In vitium ducit culpæ fuga_, si caret arte.

HOR. _Ep. ad. Pis._

[35] The _Orations of M. T. Cicero_ translated into English, with notes historical and critical. Dublin, 1766.

[36] Echard has here mistaken the author’s sense. He ought to have said, “o’ my conscience, this night is twice as long as that was.”

[37]

_Hor._ Donec gratus eram tibi, Nec quisquam potior brachia candidæ Cervici juvenis dabat; Persarum vigui rege beatior.

_Lyd._ Donec non aliam magis Arsisti, neque erat Lydia post Chloen; Multi Lydia nominis Romanâ vigui clarior Iliâ.

_Hor._ Me nunc Thressa Chloe regit, Dulceis docta modos, et citharæ sciens; Pro qua non metuam mori, Si parcent animæ fata superstiti.

_Lyd._ Me torret face mutuâ Thurini Calaïs filius Ornithi; Pro quo bis patiar mori, Si parcent puero fata superstiti.

_Hor._ Quid, si prisca redit Venus, Diductosque jugo cogit aheneo? Si flava excutitur Chloe, Rejectæque patet janua Lydiæ?

_Lyd._ Quamquam sidere pulchrior Ille est, tu levior cortice, et improbo Iracundior Hadriâ; Tecum vivere amem, tecum obeam libens.

HOR. l. 3, Od. 9.

[38] Dr. Warton.

[39] _Hujus (viz. Aristidis) pictura est, oppido capto, ad matris morientis e vulnere mammam adrepens infans; intelligiturque sentire mater et timere, ne emortuo lacte sanguinem infans lambat._ Plin. Nat. Hist. l. 35, c. 10.—If the epigram was made on the subject of this picture, Pliny’s idea of the expression of the painting is somewhat more refined than that of the epigrammatist, though certainly not so natural. As a complicated feeling can never be clearly expressed in painting, it is not improbable that the same picture should have suggested ideas somewhat different to different observers.

[40] J. H. Beattie, son of the learned and ingenious Dr. Beattie of Aberdeen, a young man who disappointed the promise of great talents by an early death. In him, the author of _The Ministrel_ saw his _Edwin_ realised.

[41] _Observer_, vol. 4, p. 115, and vol. 5, p. 145.

[42] The original of the fragment of Timocles:

Ω ταν, ἂκουσον ην τι σοι μέλλω λέγειν. Ανθρωπός ἐστι ζῶον ἐπίπονον φύσει, Καὶ πολλὰ λυπῆρ’ ὁ βίος ἐν ἑαυτω φέρει. Παραψυχὰς ουν φροντίδων ανευρατον Ταυτας· ὁ γὰρ νοῦς των ἰδίων λήθην λαβὼν Πρὸς ἀλλοτριῳ τε ψυχαγωγηθεὶς πάθει, Μεθ’ ἡδονῆς ἀπῆλθε παιδευθεὶς ἃμα. Τοὺς γὰρ τραγῳδοὺς πρῶτον εἰ βούλει σκόπει, Ὡς ὠφελοῦσί παντας· ὁ μὲν γὰρ ὤν πένης Πτωχότερον αὑτου καταμαθὼν τὸν Τήλεφον Γενόμενον, ἤδη την πενίαν ῥᾶον φέρει. Ο νοσῶν δὲ μανικῶς, Αλκμαίων’ εσκεψατο. Οφθαλμιᾶ τις; εἰσὶ Φινεῖδαι τυφλοί. Τέθνηκε τω παῖς; η Νιόβη κεκούφικε. Χωλός τις ἐστι, τὸν Φιλοκτήτην ὁρᾷ. Γέρων τὶς ἀτυχεῖ; κατέμαθε τὸν ΟΙνέα. Απαντα γὰρ τὰ μείζον’ ἤ πέπονθέ τις Ατυχήματ’ ἄλλοις γεγονότ’ ἐννοούμενος, Τὰς αὐτὸς αὑτοῦ συμφορὰς ῥᾷον φέρει.

Thus, in the literal version of Dalechampius:

_Hem amice, nunc ausculta quod dicturus sum tibi._ _Animal naturâ laboriosum homo est._ _Tristia vita secum affert plurima:_ _Itaque curarum hæc adinvenit solatia:_ _Mentem enim suorum malorum oblitam,_ _Alienorum casuum reputatio consolatur,_ _Indéque fit ea læta, et erudita ad sapientiam._ _Tragicos enim primùm, si libet, considera,_ _Quàm prosint omnibus. Qui eget,_ _Pauperiorem se fuisse Telephum_ _Cùm intelligit, leniùs fert inopiam._ _Insaniâ qui ægrotat, de Alcmeone is cogitet._ _Lippus est aliquis, Phinea cœcum is contempletur._ _Obiit tibi filius, dolorem levabit exemplum Niobes._ _Claudicat quispiam, Philocteten is respicito._ _Miser est senex aliquis, in Oeneum is intuetor._ _Omnia namque graviora quàm patiatur_ _Infortunia quivis animadvertens in aliis cùm deprehenderit,_ _Suas calamitates luget minùs._

[43] The original of the fragment of Diphilus:

Τοιοῦτο νόμιμόν ἐστὶ βέλτιστ’ ενθαδε Κορίνθίοις, ἵν’ ἐαν τιν’ ὀψωνοῦντ’ ἀεὶ Λαμπρῶς ὁρωμεν, τοῦτον ἀνακρινείν πόθεν Ζῇ, καὶ τί ποιῶν. κᾂν μεν οὐσίαν εχῃ Ης αἱ προσοδοι λυουσι τ’ ἀναλώματὰ, Εᾶν ἀπολαύειν. ἤδε τοῦτον τὸν βίον. Εαν δ’ ὑπέρ την οὐσίαν δαπανῶν τύχῃ, Απεῖπον αὐτῶ τοῦτο μὴ ποιεῖν ἔτι. Ος ἂν δὲ μή πείθητ’, ἐπέβαλον ζημίαν. Εάν δὲ μηδε ὁτιοῦν ἔχων ζῇ πολυτελῶς, Τῷ δημιῳ παρέδωκαν αὐτον. Ηράκλεις. ΟΥκ ἐνδέχεται γὰρ ζῇν ἂνευ κακοῦ τινὸς Τοῦτον. συνίης; ἀλλ’ ἀναγκαίως ἔχει Ηλοποδυτεῖν τὰς νύκτας, ἢ τοιχωρυχεῖν, Η τῶν ποιουντων ταῦτα κοινωνεῖν τισιν. Η συκοφαντεῖν κατ’ ἀγορὰν, ἢ μαρτυρεῖν Ψευδῆ, τοιοῦτων ἐκκαθαίρομεν γενος. Ορθῶς γε νὴ Δί’, ἀλλὰ δὴ τί τοῦτ’ ἐμοί; Ορῶμεν ὀψωνοῦνθ’ ἑκάστης ἡμέρας, ΟΥχι μετριως βέλτιστέ σ’, ἀλλ’ ὑπερηφάνως. ΟΥκ ἔστιν ἰχθυηρὸν ὑπὸ σοῦ μεταλαβεῖν. Συνηκας ἡμῶν εἰς τὰ λάχανα την πόλιν, Περὶ τῶν σελινων μαχόμεθ’ ὥσπερ Ισθμίοις. Λαγώς τις εἰσελήλυθ’. ευθὺς ἥρπακας. Πέρδικα δ’ ἢ κιχλην; καὶ νὴ Δί’ οὐκ ἔτι Εστιν δἰ ὑμᾶς οὐδὲ πετομενην ἰδεῖν, Τὸν ξενικὸν οἶνον ἐπιτετίμηκας πολύ.

Thus in the version of Dalechampius:

A. _Talis istic lex est, ô vir optime,_ _Corinthiis: si quem obsonantem semper_ _Splendidiùs aspexerint, illum ut interrogent_ _Unde vivat, quidnam agat: quòd si facultates illi sunt_ _Quarum ad eum sumptum reditus sufficiat,_ _Eo vitæ luxu permittunt frui:_ _Sin amplius impendat quàm pro re sua,_ _Ne id porrò faciat interdicitur._ _Si non pareat, mulctâ quidem plectitur._ _Si sumptuosè vivit qui nihil prorsus habet,_ _Traditur puniendus carnifici._

B. _Proh Hercules._

A. _Quod enim scias, fieri minimè potest_ _Ut qui eo est ingenio, non vivat improbè: itaque necessum_ _Vel noctu grassantem obvios spoliare, vel effractarium, parietem suffodere,_ _Vel his se furibus adjungere socium,_ _Aut delatorem et quadruplatorem esse in foro: aut falsum_ _Testari: à talium hominum genere purgatur civitas._

B. _Rectè, per Jovem: sed ad me quid hoc attinet?_

A. _Nos te videmus obsonantem quotidie_ _Haud mediocriter, vir optime, sed fastuosè, et magnificè,_ _Ne pisciculum quidem habere licet caussâ tuâ:_ _Cives nostros commisisti, pugnaturos de oleribus:_ _De apio dimicamus tanquam in Isthmiis._ _Si lepus accessit, eum extemplo rapis._ _Perdicem, ac turdum ne volantem quidem_ _Propter vos, ita me Juppiter amet, nobis jam videre licet,_ _Peregrini multùm auxistis vini pretium._

[44] It is to be regretted that Mr. Cumberland had not either published the original fragments along with his translations, or given special references to the authors from whom he took them, and the particular part of their works where they were to be found. The reader who wishes to compare the translations with the originals, will have some trouble in searching for them at random in the works of Athenæus, Clemens Alexandrinus, Stobæus, and others.

[45] C’est en quoi consiste le grand art de la Poësie, de dire figurément presque tout ce qu’elle dit. _Rapin. Reflex. sur la Poëtique en général._ § 29.

[46] “Quand il s’agit de représenter dans une autre langue les choses, les pensées, les expressions, les tours, les tons d’un ouvrage; les choses telles qu’elles sont sans rien ajouter, ni retrancher, ni déplacer; les pensées dans leurs couleurs, leurs degrés, leurs nuances; les tours, qui donnent le feu, l’esprit, et la vie au discours; les expressions naturelles, figurées, fortes, riches, gracieuses, délicates, &c. le tout d’après un modele qui commande durement, et qui veut qu’on lui obéisse d’un air aisé; il faut, sinon autant de génie, du moins autant de gout pour bien traduire, que pour composer. Peut-être même en faut il davantage. L’auteur qui compose, conduit seulement par une sorte d’instinct toujours libre, et par sa matiere qui lui présente des idées, qu’il peut accepter ou rejetter à son gré, est maitre absolu de ses pensées et de ses expressions: si la pensée ne lui convient pas, ou si l’expression ne convient pas à la pensée, il peut rejetter l’une et l’autre; _quæ desperat tractata nitescere posse, relinquit_. Le traducteur n’est maitre de rien; il est obligé de suivre partout son auteur, et de se plier à toutes ses variations avec une souplesse infinie. Qu’on en juge par la variété des tons qui se trouvent nécessairement dans un même sujet, et à plus forte raison dans un même genre.——Quelle idée donc ne doit-on pas avoir d’une traduction faite avec succès?”—_Batteux de la construction Oratoire_, par. 2.

[47] ΓΝ. Τι τοῦτο; παιεις ω Τιμων; μαρτυρομαι· ω Ηρακλεις· ιου, ιου. Προκαλοῦμαι σε τραυματος εις Αρειον παγον· Τιμ. Και μεν αν γε μακρον επιβραδυνης, φονον ταχα προκεκληση με. _Lucian_, _Timon_.

[48] Και ὅλως πανσοφον τι χρημα, και πανταχοθεν ακριβες, και ποικιλως εντελες· οιμωξεται τοιγαρουν ουκ εις μακραν χρηστος ων. _Lucian_, _Timon_.

[49] Αντι του τεως Πυρριου, η Δρομωνος, η Τιβιου, Μεγακλης, Μεγαβυζος, η Πρωταρχος μετονομασθεις, τους ματην κεχηνοτας εκεινους εις αλληλους αποβλεποντας καταλιπων, &c. _Lucian_, _Timon_.

[50] The following apology made by D’Ablancourt of his own version of Tacitus, contains, however, many just observations; from which, with a proper abatement of that extreme liberty for which he contends, every translator may derive much advantage.

Of Tacitus he thus remarks: “Comme il considere souvent les choses par quelque biais étranger, il laisse quelquefois ses narrations imparfaites, ce qui engendre de l’obscurité dans ses ouvrages, outre la multitude des fautes qui s’y rencontrent, et le peu de lumière qui nous reste de la plupart des choses qui y sont traitées. Il ne faut donc pas s’étonner s’il est si difficile à traduire, puisqu’il est même difficile à entendre. D’ailleurs il a accoutumé de méler dans une même période, et quelquefois dans une même expression diverses pensées qui ne tiennent point l’une à l’autre, et dont il faut perdre une partie, comme dans les ouvrages qu’on polit, pour pouvoir exprimer le reste sans choquer les délicatesses de notre langue, et la justesse du raisonnement. Car on n’a pas le même respect pour mon François que pour son Latin; et l’on ne me pardonneroit pas des choses, qu’on admire souvent chez lui, et s’il faut ainsi dire, qu’on revere. Par tout ailleurs je l’ai suivi pas à pas, et plutôt en esclave qu’en compagnon; quoique peut-être je me pusse donner plus de liberté, puisque je ne traduis pas un passage, mais un livre, de qui toutes les parties doivent être unies ensemble, et comme fondues en un même corps. D’ailleurs, la diversité qui se trouve dans les langues est si grande, tant pour la construction et la forme des périodes, que pour les figures et les autres ornemens, qu’il faut à touts coups changer d’air et de visage, si l’on ne veut faire un corps monstrueux, tel que celui des traductions ordinaires, qui sont ou mortes et languissantes, ou confuses et embrouillées, sans aucun ordre ni agrément. Il faut donc prendre garde qu’on ne fasse perdre la grace à son auteur par trop de scrupule, et que de peur de lui manquer de foi en quelque chose, on ne lui soit infidèle en tout: principalement, quand on fait un ouvrage qui doit tenir lieu de l’original, et qu’on ne travaille pas pour faire entendre aux jeunes gens le Grec ou le Latin. Car on fait que les expressions hardies ne sont point exactes, parce que la justesse est ennemie de la grandeur, comme il se voit dans la peinture et dans l’ecriture; mais la hardiesse du trait en supplée le défaut, et elles sont trouvées plus belles de la sorte, que si elles étoient plus régulières. D’ailleurs il est difficile d’etre bien exact dans la traduction d’un auteur qui ne l’est point. Souvent on est contraint d’ajouter quelque chose à sa pensée pour l’eclaircir; quelquefois il faut en retrancher une partie pour donner jour à tout le reste. Cependant, cela fait que les meilleures traductions paroissent les moins fideles; et un critique de notre tems a remarqué deux mille fautes dans le Plutarque d’Amyot, et un autre presqu’autant dans les traductions d’Erasme; peut-être pour ne pas savoir que la diversité des langues et des styles oblige à des traits tout differens, _parce que l’Eloquence est une chose si delicate, qu’il ne faut quelquefois qu’une syllabe pour la corrompre_. Car du reste, il n’y a point d’apparence que deux si grands hommes se soient abusés en tant de lieux, quoiqu’il ne soit pas étrange qu’on se puisse abuser en quelque endroit. Mais tout le monde n’est pas capable de juger d’une traduction, quoique tout le monde s’en attribuë la connoissance; et ici comme ailleurs, la maxime d’Aristote devroit servir de regle, qu’il faut croire chacun en son art.”

[51] A striking resemblance to this beautiful apostrophe “Ahi padri irragionevoli,” is found in the beginning of Moncrif’s _Romance d’Alexis et Alis_, a ballad which the French justly consider as a model of tenderness and elegant simplicity.

Pourquoi rompre leur mariage, Mechans parens? Ils auroient fait si bon menage A tous momens! Que sert d’avoir bagues et dentelle Pour se parer? Ah! la richesse la plus belle Est de s’aimer.

Quand on a commencé la vie Disant ainsi: Oui, vous serez toujours ma mie, Vous mon ami: Quand l’age augmente encor l’envie De s’entreunir, Qu’avec un autre on nous marie Vaut mieux mourir.

[52]

Otium divos rogat in patenti Prensus Ægeo, simul atra nubes Condidit Lunam, neque certa fulgent Sidera nautis.

Otium bello furiosa Thrace, Otium Medi pharetrâ decori, Grosphe, non gemmis, neque purpurâ ve- nale, nec auro.

Non enim gazæ, neque Consularis Summovet lictor miseros tumultus Mentis, et curas laqueata circum Tecta volantes.

Vivitur parvo bene, cui paternum Splendet in mensâ tenui salinum: Nec leves somnos Timor aut Cupido Sordidus aufert.

Quid brevi fortes jaculamur ævo Multa? quid terras alio calentes Sole mutamus? Patriæ quis exul, Se quoque fugit?

Scandit æratas vitiosa naves Cura, nec turmas equitum relinquit, Ocyor cervis, et agente nimbos Ocyor Euro.

Lætus in præsens animus, quod ultra est Oderit curare; et amara lento Temperat risu. Nihil est ab omni Parte beatum.

Abstulit clarum cita mors Achillem: Longa Tithonum minuit senectus: Et mihi forsan, tibi quod negârit, Porriget hora.

Te greges centum, Siculæque circum Mugiunt vaccæ: tibi tollit hinnitum Apta quadrigis equa: te bis Afro Murice tinctæ.

Vestiunt lanæ: mihi parva rura, et Spiritum Graiæ tenuem Camœnæ Parca non mendax dedit, et malignum Spernere vulgus.

HOR. _Od. 2, 16._

[53] There is, however, a very common mistake of translators from the French into English, proceeding either from ignorance, or inattention to the general construction of the two languages. In narrative, or the description of past actions, the French often use the present tense for the preterite: _Deux jeunes nobles Mexicains jettent leurs armes, et viennent à lui comme déserteurs. Ils mettent un genouil à terre dans la posture des supplians; ils le saisissent, et s’élancent de la platforme.—Cortez s’en débarasse, et se retient à la balustrade. Les deux jeunes nobles périssent sans avoir exécuté leur généreuse entreprise._ Let us observe the aukward effect of a similar use of the present tense in English. “Two young Mexicans of noble birth throw away their arms and come to him as deserters. They kneel in the posture of suppliants; they seise him, and throw themselves from the platform.—Cortez disengages himself from their grasp, and keeps hold of the ballustrade. The noble Mexicans perish without accomplishing their generous design.” In like manner, the use of the present for the past tense is very common in Greek, and we frequently remark the same impropriety in English translations from that language. “After the death of Darius, and the accession of Artaxerxes, Tissaphernes accuses Cyrus to his brother of treason: Artaxerxes gives credit to the accusation, and orders Cyrus to be apprehended, with a design to put him to death; but his mother having saved him by her intercession, sends him back to his government.” Spelman’s _Xenophon_. In the original, these verbs are put in the present tense, διαβαλλει, πειθεται, συλλαμβανει, αποπεμπει. But this use of the present tense in narrative is contrary to the genius of the English language. The poets have assumed it; and in them it is allowable, because it is their object to paint scenes as present to the eye; _ut pictura poesis_; but all that a prose narrative can pretend to, is an animated description of things past: if it goes any farther, it encroaches on the department of poetry. In one way, however, this use of the present tense is found in the best English historians, namely, in the summary heads, or contents of chapters. “Lambert Simnel invades England.—Perkin Warbeck is avowed by the Duchess of Burgundy—he returns to Scotland—he is taken prisoner—and executed.” Hume. But it is by an ellipsis that the present tense comes to be thus used. The sentence at large would stand thus. “_This chapter relates how_ Lambert Simnel invades England, _how_ Perkin Warbeck is avowed by the Duchess of Burgundy,” &c.

[54] It is surprising that this fault should meet even with approbation from so judicious a critic as Denham. In the preface to his translation of the second book of the _Æneid_ he says: “As speech is the apparel of our thoughts, so there are certain garbs and modes of speaking which vary with the times; the fashion of our clothes being not more subject to alteration, than that of our speech: and this I think Tacitus means by that which he calls _Sermonem temporis istius auribus accommodatum_, the delight of change being as due to the curiosity of the ear as of the eye: and therefore, if Virgil must needs speak English, it were fit he should speak, not only _as a man of this nation, but as a man of this age_.” The translator’s opinion is exemplified in his practice.

_Infandum, Regina, jubes renovare dolorem._

“_Madam_, when you command us to review Our fate, you make our old wounds bleed anew.”

Of such translation it may with truth be said, in the words of Francklin,

Thus Greece and Rome, in modern dress array’d, Is but antiquity in masquerade.

[55] The modern air of the following sentence is, however, not displeasing: Antipho asks Cherea, where he has bespoke supper; he answers, _Apud libertum Discum_, “At Discus the freedman’s.” Echard, with a happy familiarity, says, “At old Harry Platter’s.” _Ter. Eun._ act 3, sc. 5.

[56] Alluding to the French Admiral’s ship _Le Soleil Royal_, beaten and disabled by Russell.

[57] The translation published by Motteux declares in the title-page, that it is the work of several hands; but as of these Mr. Motteux was the principal, and revised and corrected the parts that were translated by others, which indeed we have no means of discriminating from his own, I shall, in the following comparison, speak of him as the author of the whole work.

[58] The only French translation of _Don Quixote_ I have ever seen, is that to which is subjoined a continuation of the Knight’s adventures, in two supplemental volumes, by Le Sage. This translation has undergone numberless editions, and is therefore, I presume, the best; perhaps indeed the only one, except a very old version, which is mentioned in the preface, as being quite literal, and very antiquated in its style. It is therefore to be presumed, that when Jarvis accuses Motteux of having taken his version entirely from the French, he refers to that translation above mentioned to which Le Sage has given a supplement. If this be the case, we may confidently affirm, that Jarvis has done Motteux the greatest injustice. On comparing his translation with the French, there is a discrepancy so absolute and universal, that there does not arise the smallest suspicion that he had ever seen that version. Let any passage be compared _ad aperturam libri_; as, for example, the following:

“De simples huttes tenoient lieu de maisons, et de palais aux habitants de la terre; les arbes se defaisant d’eux-memes de leurs écorces, leur fournissoient de quoi couvrir leurs cabanes, et se garantir de l’intempérie des saisons.”

“The tough and strenuous cork-trees did of themselves, and without other art than their native liberality, dismiss and impart their broad, light bark, which served to cover those lowly huts, propped up with rough-hewn stakes, that were first built as a shelter against the inclemencies of the air.”—MOTTEUX.

“La beaute n’étoit point un avantage dangereux aux jeunes filles; elles alloient librement partout, etalant sans artifice et sans dessein tous les présents que leur avoit fait la Nature, sans se cacher davantage, qu’autant que l’honnêteté commune à tous les siecles l’a toujours demandé.”

“Then was the time, when innocent beautiful young shepherdesses went tripping over the hills and vales, their lovely hair sometimes plaited, sometimes loose and flowing, clad in no other vestment but what was necessary to cover decently what modesty would always have concealed.”—MOTTEUX.

It will not, I believe, be asserted, that this version of Motteux bears any traces of being copied from the French, which is quite licentious and paraphrastical. But when we subjoin the original, we shall perceive, that he has given a very just and easy translation of the Spanish.

_Los valientes alcornoques despedian de sí sin otro artificio que el de su cortesia, sus anchas y livianas cortezas, sin que se commençaron á cubrir las casas, sobre rusticas, estacas sustentadas, no mas que para defensa de las inclemencias del cielo._

_Entonces sí, que andaban las simples y hermosas zagalejas de valle en valle, y de otero en otero, en trenza y en cabello, sin mas vestidos de aquellos que eran menester para cubrir honestamente lo que la honestidad quiere._

[59] Perhaps a parody was here intended of the famous epitaph of Simonides, on the brave Spartans who fell at Thermopylæ:

Ω ξειν, αγγειλον Λακεδαιμονιοις, οτι τηδε Κειμεθα, τοις κεινων ρημασι πειθομενοι.

“O stranger, carry back the news to Lacedemon, that we died here to prove our obedience to her laws.” This, it will be observed, may be translated, or at least closely imitated, in the very words of Cervantes; _diras—que su caballero murio por acometer cosas, que le hiciesen digno de poder llamarse suyo_.

[60] One expression is omitted which is a little too gross.

[61] Thus it stands in all the editions by the Royal Academy of Madrid; though in Lord Carteret’s edition the latter part of the proverb is given thus, apparently with more propriety: _del mal que le viene no se enoje_.

[62] _Mas ligera que un alcotan_ is more literally translated by Smollet than by Motteux; but if Smollet piqued himself on fidelity, why was _Cordobes o Mexicano_ omitted?

[63] Smollet has here mistaken the sense of the original, _como si ellos tuvieran la culpa del maleficio_: She did not blame the hair for being guilty of the transgression or offence, but for being the cause of the Moor’s transgression, or, as Motteux has properly translated it, “this affront.” In another part of the same chapter, Smollet has likewise mistaken the sense of the original. When the boy remarks, that the Moors don’t observe much form or ceremony in their judicial trials, Don Quixote contradicts him, and tells him there must always be a regular process and examination of evidence to prove matters of fact, “_para sacar una verdad en limpio menester son muchas pruebas y repruebas_.” Smollet applies this observation of the Knight to the boy’s long-winded story, and translates the passage, “There is not so much proof and counter proof required to bring truth to light.” In both these passages Smollet has departed from his prototype, Jarvis.

[64] I add this qualification not without reason, as I intend afterwards to give an example of a species of florid writing which is difficult to be translated, because its meaning cannot be apprehended with precision.

[65] The following translation of these verses by Parnell, is at once a proof that this excellent poet felt the characteristic merit of the original, and that he was unable completely to attain it.

My change arrives; the change I meet Before I thought it nigh; My spring, my years of pleasure fleet, And all their beauties die. In age I search, and only find A poor unfruitful gain, Grave wisdom stalking slow behind, Oppress’d with loads of pain.

My ignorance could once beguile, And fancied joys inspire; My errors cherish’d hope to smile On newly born desire. But now experience shews the bliss For which I fondly sought, Not worth the long impatient wish And ardour of the thought.

My youth met fortune fair array’d, In all her pomp she shone, And might perhaps have well essay’d To make her gifts my own. But when I saw the blessings show’r On some unworthy mind, I left the chace, and own’d the power Was justly painted blind.

I pass’d the glories which adorn The splendid courts of kings, And while the persons mov’d my scorn, I rose to scorn the things.

In this translation, which has the merit of faithfully transfusing the sense of the original, with a great portion of its simplicity of expression, the following couplet is a very faulty deviation from that character of the style.

My errors cherish’d hope to smile On newly born desire.

[66] The attempt, however, has been made. In a little volume, intitled _Prolusiones Poeticæ_, by the Reverend T. Bancroft, printed at Chester 1788, is a version of the _Fidicinis et Philomelæ certamen_, which will please every reader of taste who forbears to compare it with the original; and in the Poems of Pattison, the ingenious author of the _Epistle of Abelard to Eloisa_, is a fable, intitled, the _Nightingale and Shepherd_, imitated from Strada. But both these performances serve only to convince us, that a just translation of that composition is a thing almost impossible.

[67] The occasional blemishes, however, of a good writer, are a fair subject of castigation; and a travesty or burlesque parody of them will please, from the justness of the satire: As the following ludicrous version of a passage in the 5th _Æneid_, which is among the few examples of false taste in the chastest of the Latin Poets:

——_Oculos telumque tetendit._

——He cock’d his eye and gun.

[68]

To be, or not to be, that is the question:— Whether ’tis better in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune; Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die;—to sleep; No more?—And by a sleep, to say we end The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to;—’tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish’d. To die;—to sleep;— To sleep! perchance to dream;—ay, there’s the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: There’s the respect, That makes calamity of so long life: For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, To groan and sweat under a weary life; But that the dread of something after death— That undiscover’d country, from whose bourne No traveller returns—puzzles the will; And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, &c.

_Hamlet_, act 3, sc. 1.

[69] Other ideas superadded by the translator, are,

Que suis-je——Qui m’arrête?—— On nous menace, on dit que cette courte vie, &c. ——Affreuse éternité! Tout cœur à ton seul nom se glace épouvanté—— A des amis ingrats qui detournent la vue——

In the _Essay on the Writings and Genius of Shakespeare_, which is one of the best pieces of criticism in the English language, the reader will find many examples of similar misrepresentation and wilful debasement of our great dramatic poet, in the pretended translations of Voltaire.

[70] Pour faire connoitre l’esprit de ce poëme, unique en son genre, il faut retrancher les trois quarts de tout passage qu’on veut traduire; car ce _Butler_ ne finit jamais. J’ai donc réduit à environ quatre-vingt vers les quatre cent premiers vers d’Hudibras, pour éviter la prolixité. _Mel. Philos. par Voltaire, Oeuv. tom. 15. Ed. de Genève._ 4to.

[71] I have lately learnt, that the author of this translation was Colonel Townley, an English gentleman who had been educated in France, and long in the French service, and who thus had acquired a most intimate knowledge of both languages.

[72] James Edgar, Esq., Commissioner of the Customs, Edinburgh.

INDEX

A

Ablancourt, his translations excellent, 120

——, his just observations on translation, 120

Adrian, his _Address to his Soul_, 126

Alembert, D’, quoted, 13

——, his translations from Tacitus, 15 _et seq._ 34

_Alis et Alexis_, romance, 129

Aldrich, Dr., his translation of a humorous song, 202

Ambiguous expressions, how to be translated, 17

Ancient translation, few specimens of, existing at present, 4

Anguillara, beautiful passage from his translation of Ovid’s _Metamorphoses_, 128

_Anthologia_, translation of an epigram from, by Webb, 88

Aratus, _Phenomena_ of, translated by Cicero, 2

Arias Montanus, his version of the Scriptures, 67

Atterbury, his translation of Horace’s dialogue with Lydia, 85

B

Barnaby, _Ebrii Barnabæ Itinerarium_, 202

Batteux, Abbé, remarks on the art of translation, 3, 4, 112

Beattie, Dr., his remark on a passage of Dryden, 58; his remark on Castalio, 66

Beattie, J. H., his translation of Pope’s _Messiah_ quoted, 90

Bible, translations of, 64 _et seq._ _See_ Castalio, Arias Montanus

Bourne, Vincent, his translation of _Colin and Lucy_, 23; of _William and Margaret_, 80; of _Chloe hunting_, 82

Brown, Thomas, his translations from Lucian, 118

Buchanan, his version of the Psalms, 145

Burlesque translation, 197 _et seq._

Butler. _See_ _Hudibras_

C

Campbell, Dr., preliminary dissertation to a new translation of the Gospels, 3, cited 64 _et seq._

Casaubon, his translation of Adrian’s _Address to his Soul_, 126

Castalio, his version of the Scriptures, 65

Cervantes. _See_ _Don Quixote_

Chaulieu, his beautiful _Ode on Fontenai_ quoted, 181

Chevy-chace, whimsical translation of, 203

Cicero had cultivated the art of translation, 1; translated Plato’s _Timæus_, Xenophon’s _Œconomics_, and the _Phenomena_ of Aratus, 2

——, epistles of, translated by Melmoth, 17, 28, 32

Claudian, translation from, by Hughes, 89

_Colin and Lucy_, translated by Bourne, 23; by Le Mierre, _see_ Appendix, No. 1

Colloquial phrases, 135 _et seq._

Congreve, translation from Horace cited, 57

Cotton, his translation of Montaigne cited, 138; his Virgil travesty, 201

Cowley, translation from Horace cited, 56

Cumberland, Mr., his excellent translations of fragments of the ancient Greek dramatists, 90 _et seq._

Cunighius, his translation of the _Iliad_ cited, 49, 55

D

Definition or description of a good translation, 8

Delille, or De Lille, his opinion as to the liberty allowed in poetical translation, 46; his translation of the _Georgics_ cited, 61, 73

Denham, his opinion of the liberty allowed in translating poetry, 35; his compliment to Fanshaw, 43

Descriptions, containing a series of minute distinctions, extremely difficult to be translated, 188

Diphilus, fragment of, translated by Mr. Cumberland, 91

_Don Quixote_, difficulty of translating that romance, 150; comparison of the translations of, by Motteux and Smollet, 151 _et seq._

Dryden improved poetical translation, 44; his translation of Lucian’s dialogues, 29, 118; his translation of Virgil cited, 30, 57, 58, 72; his translation of Du Fresnoy on painting, 59, 110; his translations from Horace, 59, 125; his translation of Tacitus, 70; translation from Ovid’s _Metamorphoses_, 76

Duclos, a just observation of, 14

Du Fresnoy’s _Art of Painting_ admirably translated by Mr. Mason, 27; translation of, by Dryden, 59, 110

E

Echard, his translation of Plautus cited, 77, 143 _et seq._

——, his translation of Terence cited, 138, 140, 143 _et seq._

Ellipsis more freely admitted in Latin than in English, 105

Epigrams sometimes incapable of translation, 147

Epigram from Martial well translated, 53

_Epistolæ obscurorum virorum_, 68

Epithets used by Homer, sometimes mere expletives, 31

F

Fanshaw praised as a translator by Denham, 43; his translation of _Pastor Fido_ cited, 44

Fenelon’s _Telemachus_, 108

Festus _de verborum significatione_, 13

Florid writing, 179, 192

Folard, his commentary on Polybius erroneous from his ignorance of the Greek language, 11

Fontaine, La, his character as a fabulist drawn by Marmontel, 185

——, his fables cited, 184, 188

Fontaines, Abbé des, his translation of Virgil, 69

Fontenelle, his translation of Adrian’s _Address to his Soul_, 127

Fresnoy. _See_ Du Fresnoy.

G

Girard, _Synonymes François_, 14

Gordon’s Tacitus cited, 19, 104; his injudicious imitation of the Latin construction, 19, 104

Greek language admits of inversions which are inconsistent with the genius of the English, 104

Guischardt has demonstrated the errors in Folard’s commentary on Polybius, 11

H

Hobbes, his translation of Homer cited, 50, 71, 146

Hogæus, _Paradisus Amissus Miltoni_ cited, 61

Holland’s translation of Pliny cited, 191

Homer, his epithets frequently mere expletives, 32

Homer, characteristics of his style, 69

——, Pope’s translation of the _Iliad_ cited, 25, 31, 46 _et seq._, 60, 71, 73 (_see_ Cunighius, Hobbes); Mr. Pope departs sometimes from the character of Homer’s style, 69; translation of the _Odyssey_ cited, 146; Macpherson’s Homer cited, 105, 108

Horace, translations from, cited. _Vide_ Jonson, Roscommon, Dryden, Congreve, Nivernois, Hughes

_Hudibras_, remarkable combination of wit and humour in that poem, 213; Voltaire has attempted to translate some passages of that poem, 214 _et seq._; excellent French translation of that poem cited, 215

Hughes’s translation from Claudian cited, 89; ditto from Horace, 130

I

Ideas superadded to the original by the translator—examples of, from Bourne, 23; from Pope’s _Homer_, 25; from his imitations of Horace, 27; from Johnston’s version of the Psalms, 25; from Mason’s _Du Fresnoy on Painting_, 27; from Malherbe, 28; from Melmoth’s _Cicero’s Epistles_, 27; from Dryden’s _Lucian_, 29

Ideas retrenched from the original by the translator—examples of, from Dryden’s _Virgil_, 30; from Pope’s _Iliad_, 31; from Melmoth’s _Cicero’s Epistles_, 32, 33

The liberty of adding to or retrenching from the ideas of the original, is more allowable in poetical than in prose translation, 35; and in lyric poetry more than any other, 123

Idiomatic phrases, how to be translated, 135; the translation is perfect, when corresponding idioms are employed, 137; examples from Cotton’s translation of Montaigne, from Echard, Sterne, 138 _et seq._; licentiousness in the translation of idioms, 140; examples, 141; translator’s resource when no corresponding idioms are to be found, 147

_Iliad._ _See_ Homer

Isidorus Hispalensis, _Origines_, 13

J

Jonson, Ben, translation from Horace, 36 _et seq._

Johnston, Arthur, his translation of the Psalms, 25, 144

Jortin, Dr., translation from Simonides, 85

Juvenal, translation of, by Holiday cited, 38

L

Latin language admits of a brevity of expression which cannot be successfully imitated in English, 96; it admits of inversions, which are inconsistent with the genius of the English, 104; admits of ellipsis more freely than the English, 105

L’Estrange, his translations from Seneca cited, 78

Lowth, Dr., his imitation of an ode of Horace, 124

Lucan. _See_ May, Rowe.

_Lucian_, Francklin’s translation of, cited, 118 _et seq._; Dryden’s, Brown’s, &c., 117 _et seq._

M

Macpherson’s translation of the _Iliad_, 105, 108

Malherbe cited, 28

Markham, Dr., his imitation of Simonides, 87

Mason’s translation of Du Fresnoy’s _Art of Painting_, 27

May, his translation of Lucan, 39 _et seq._; compared with Rowe’s, 41

Melmoth, one of the best of the English translators, 32, 114 _et seq._; his translation of Cicero’s _Epistles_ cited, 17, 28, 32, 96, 98, 114, 147; his translation of Pliny’s _Epistles_ cited, 33, 97, 116, 117, 147; his unjust censure of a passage in Mr. Pope’s version of the _Iliad_, 31

Milton, his translation of Horace’s _Ode to Pyrrha_, 43, App. No. 2

——, a passage from his tractate on education difficult to be translated with corresponding simplicity, 179; his _Paradise Lost_ cited, 177 (_see_ Hogæus); his _Comus_ cited, 178

Moncrif, his ballad of _Alexis et Alis_, 129

Montaigne, Cotton’s translation of, cited, 138

Motteux, his translation of _Don Quixote_ compared with that of Smollet, 151 _et seq._; his translation of Rabelais, 222

Murphy, his translation of Tacitus cited, 17, 19, 99 _et seq._

N

_Naïveté_, in what it consists, 183, 185; the fables of Phædrus are remarkable for this character, 183; as are those of La Fontaine, 184, 185; _naïveté_ of particular phrases very difficult to be imitated in a translation, 149

Nivernois, Duc de, his translation of Horace’s dialogue with Lydia, 83

Nonius, _de Proprietate Sermonum_, 13

O

Ovid. _See_ Sandys, Dryden, Anguillara

Ozell, his edition of Urquhart and Motteux translation of Rabelais, 223

P

Paraphrase, examples of, as distinguished from translation, 124, 127, 128 _et seq._

Parnell, his translation of Chaulieu’s verses on Fontenai, 181

Phædrus, his fables cited, 183

Pitcairne, Dr., his Latin poetry characterised, 143

Pitt, eminent as a translator, 206

Plautus. _See_ Echard

Pliny the Elder, his description of the Nightingale, 190; analysis of a chapter of his _Natural History_, 190

Pliny the Younger, his _Epistles_. _See_ Melmoth

Poem, whether it can be well translated into prose, ch. 8

Poetical translation, liberty allowed to it, 35 _et seq._

——, progress of poetical translation in England, 36 _et seq._

Poetry, characteristics essential to it, 108; didactic poetry is the most capable of a prose translation, 109; lyric poetry incapable of a prose translation, 111; lyric poetry admits of the greatest liberty in translation, 123

Polybius erroneously understood by Folard, 10

Pope. _See_ Homer. His translation of Sappho’s _Epistle to Phaon_ cited, 61; his _Dying Christian to his Soul_, 127

Popma, Ausonius, _de Differentiis Verborum_, 13

Prior, his _Chloe Hunting_ translated by Bourne, 82

Q

Quinctilian recommends the practice of translation, 1

_Quixote, Don_, comparison of Motteux’s translation of, with Smollet’s, 151 _et seq._

R

Rabelais admirably translated by Urquhart and Motteux, ch. 15

Roscommon’s Essay on translated verse, 45; a precept of his, with regard to poetical translation, controverted, 45; translation from Horace cited, 55

Rousseau, _Devin de Village_ cited, 79; his translations from Tacitus cited, 103

Rowe’s Lucan cited, 41

S

Sandys, his character as a translator of poetry, 42; his translation of Ovid cited, 42

Scarron’s burlesque translation of Virgil cited, 200

Seneca. _See_ L’Estrange

Shakespeare, translations from, by Voltaire, 209 _et seq._; his phraseology difficult to be imitated in a translation, 177, 178

Simonides, fragment of, translated by Jortin, 85; imitated by Dr. Markham, 87

Simplicity of thought and expression difficult to be imitated in a translation, 179

Smart’s prose translation of Horace, 111

Spelman’s _Xenophon_ cited, 136

Sterne’s _Slawkenbergius’s Tale_ cited, 139

Strada’s _Contest of the Musician and Nightingale_, extreme difficulty of translating it, 187

Style and manner of the original to be imitated in the translation, 63 _et seq._; a just taste requisite for the discernment of those characters, 74; limitations of the rule regarding the imitation of style, 96 _et seq._

T

Tacitus. _See_ D’Ablancourt, D’Alembert, Gordon, Murphy, Dryden, Rousseau. Difficulty of translating that author, 120

_Telemachus_, a poem in prose, 108

Terence. _See_ Echard

Tickell’s ballad of _Lucy and Colin_, translated by Bourne, 23; translated by Le Mierre, Appendix, No. 1

Timocles, fragment of, translated by Cumberland, 90

Townley, Colonel, his translation of _Hudibras_, 218

Translation, art of, very little cultivated, 1; ancient translations, few specimens of, existing, 2 _et seq._; reasons why the art is at a low ebb among the moderns, 5; description or definition of a good translation, 7, 8; laws of translation, 9; first general law, “That the translation should give a complete transcript of the ideas of the original work,” 10 _et seq._; second general law, “The style and manner of writing in a translation should be of the same character with that of the original,” 63 _et seq._; specimens of good poetical translations, 80 _et seq._; third general rule, “A translation should have all the ease of original composition,” 112 _et seq._; a translator ought always to figure to himself in what manner the original author would have expressed himself, if he had written in the language of the translation, 107; licentious translation, 117; the best translators have shone in original composition of the same species, 206

Travesty or burlesque translation, 197 _et seq._; Scarron’s and Cotton’s Virgil Travesty, 200, 202

U

Urquhart, Sir Thomas, his excellent translation of Rabelais, 222

V

Varro, _de Lingua Latina_, 13

Virgil. _See_ Dryden, Delille, Fontaines. Example of false taste in a passage of Virgil, 199

Voltaire, his remark on the Abbé des Fontaines’s translation of Virgil, 69; his translations from Shakespeare very faulty, 207; character of the wit of Voltaire, 212; he had no talent for humorous composition, 213 _et seq._; character of his novels, 213

W

Warton, eminent as a poetical translator, 206

Wollaston’s _Religion of Nature_, passage from, difficult to be translated, 180

X

Xenophon’s _Œconomics_ translated by Cicero, 1, 2; Spelman’s Xenophon cited, 136

RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, BREAD STREET HILL, E.C., AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.