his kind seems like a mighty tree, which rises from
the most vigorous seed, is improved with industry, flourishes, and
produces the finest fruit: nature and art conspire to raise it; pleasure
and profit join to make it valuable: and they who find the justest faults,
have only said that a few branches which run luxuriant through a richness
of nature, might be lopped into form to give it a more regular appearance.

Having now spoken of the beauties and defects of the original, it remains
to treat of the translation, with the same view to the chief
characteristic. As far as that is seen in the main parts of the poem, such
as the fable, manners, and sentiments, no translator can prejudice it but
by wilful omissions or contractions. As it also breaks out in every
particular image, description, and simile, whoever lessens or too much
softens those, takes off from this chief character. It is the first grand
duty of an interpreter to give his author entire and unmaimed; and for the
rest, the diction and versification only are his proper province, since
these must be his own, but the others he is to take as he finds them.

It should then be considered what methods may afford some equivalent in
our language for the graces of these in the Greek. It is certain no
literal translation can be just to an excellent original in a superior
language: but it is a great mistake to imagine (as many have done) that a
rash paraphrase can make amends for this general defect; which is no less
in danger to lose the spirit of an ancient, by deviating into the modern
manners of expression. If there be sometimes a darkness, there is often a
light in antiquity, which nothing better preserves than a version almost
literal. I know no liberties one ought to take, but those which are
necessary to transfusing the spirit of the original, and supporting the
poetical style of the translation: and I will venture to say, there have
not been more men misled in former times by a servile, dull adherence to
the letter, than have been deluded in ours by a chimerical, insolent hope
of raising and improving their author. It is not to be doubted, that the
fire of the poem is what a translator should principally regard, as it is
most likely to expire in his managing: however, it is his safest way to be
content with preserving this to his utmost in the whole, without
endeavouring to be more than he finds his author is, in any particular
place. It is a great secret in writ