CHAPTER XIII
OTHER CHARACTERISTICS OF COMPOSITION, WHICH RENDER TRANSLATION DIFFICULT.—ANTIQUATED TERMS—NEW TERMS—VERBA ARDENTIA.—SIMPLICITY OF THOUGHT AND EXPRESSION—IN PROSE—IN POETRY.—NAÏVETÉ IN THE LATTER.—CHAULIEU—PARNELL—LA FONTAINE.—SERIES OF MINUTE DISTINCTIONS MARKED BY CHARACTERISTIC TERMS.—STRADA.—FLORID STYLE AND VAGUE EXPRESSION.—PLINY’S NATURAL HISTORY.
In the two preceding chapters I have treated pretty fully of what I have considered as a principal difficulty in translation, the permutation of idioms. I shall in this chapter touch upon several other characteristics of composition, which, in proportion as they are found in original works, serve greatly to enhance the difficulty of doing complete justice to them in a translation.
1. The poets, in all languages, have a licence peculiar to themselves, of employing a mode of expression very remote from the diction of prose, and still more from that of ordinary speech. Under this licence, it is customary for them to use antiquated terms, to invent new ones, and to employ a glowing and rapturous phraseology, or what Cicero terms Verba ardentia. To do justice to these peculiarities in a translation, by adopting similar terms and phrases, will be found extremely difficult; yet, without such assimilation, the translation presents no just copy of the original. It would require no ordinary skill to transfuse into another language the thoughts of the following passages, in a similar species of phraseology:
Antiquated Terms:
For Nature crescent doth not grow alone
In thews and bulk; but as this temple waxes,
The inward service of the mind and soul
Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves thee now,
And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch
The virtue of his will.
Shak. Hamlet, act 1.
New Terms:
So over many a tract
Of heaven they march’d, and many a province wide,
Tenfold the length of this terrene: at last
Far in th’ horizon to the north appear’d
From skirt to skirt a fiery region, stretcht
In battailous aspect, and nearer view
Bristl’d with upright beams innumerable
Of rigid spears, and helmets throng’d, and shields
Various with boastful argument pourtrayed.
Paradise Lost, b. 6.
All come to this? the hearts
That spaniel’d me at heels, to whom I gave
Their wishes, do discandy.
Shak. Ant. & Cleop. act 4, sc. 10.
Glowing Phraseology, or Verba ardentia:
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er ye are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides,
Your loop’d and window’d raggedness defend you
From seasons such as these? Oh, I have ta’en
Too little care of this: Take physic, pomp!
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou may’st shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just.
Shak. K. Lear.
Tremble, thou wretch,
That hast within thee undivulged crimes,
Unwhipt of justice! Hide thee, thou bloody hand;
Thou perjure, and thou simular of virtue,
That art incestuous! Caitiff, shake to pieces,
That under covert and convenient seeming
Hast practis’d on man’s life! Close pent up guilts,
Rive your concealing continents, and ask
Those dreadful summoners grace.
Ibid.
Can any mortal mixture of Earth’s mould,
Breathe such divine, enchanting ravishment?
Sure something holy lodges in that breast,
And with these raptures moves the vocal air
To testify his hidden residence:
How sweetly did they float upon the wings
Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night;
At every fall smoothing the raven down
Of darkness till it smil’d: I have oft heard,
Amidst the flow’ry-kirtled Naiades,
My mother Circe, with the Sirens three,
Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs,
Who, as they sung, would take the poison’d soul
And lap it in Elysium.——
But such a sacred, and home-felt delight,
Such sober certainty of waking bliss,
I never heard till now.
Milton’s Comus.
2. There is nothing more difficult to imitate successfully in a translation than that species of composition which conveys just, simple, and natural thoughts, in plain, unaffected, and perfectly appropriate terms; and which rejects all those aucupia sermonis, those lenocinia verborum, which constitute what is properly termed florid writing. It is much easier to imitate in a translation that kind of composition (provided it be at all intelligible),[64] which is brilliant and rhetorical, which employs frequent antitheses, allusions, similes, metaphors, than it is to give a perfect copy of just, apposite, and natural sentiments, which are clothed in pure and simple language: For the former characters are strong and prominent, and therefore easily caught; whereas the latter have no striking attractions, their merit eludes altogether the general observation, and is discernible only to the most correct and chastened taste.
It would be difficult to approach to the beautiful simplicity of expression of the following passages, in any translation.
“In those vernal seasons of the year, when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against Nature, not to go out to see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with heaven and earth.” Milton’s Tract of Education.
“Can I be made capable of such great expectations, which those animals know nothing of, (happier by far in this regard than I am, if we must die alike), only to be disappointed at last? Thus placed, just upon the confines of another, better world, and fed with hopes of penetrating into it, and enjoying it, only to make a short appearance here, and then to be shut out and totally sunk? Must I then, when I bid my last farewell to these walks, when I close these lids, and yonder blue regions and all this scene darken upon me and go out; must I then only serve to furnish dust to be mingled with the ashes of these herds and plants, or with this dirt under my feet? Have I been set so far above them in life, only to be levelled with them at death?” Wollaston’s Rel. of Nature, sect. ix.
3. The union of just and delicate sentiments with simplicity of expression, is more rarely found in poetical composition than in prose; because the enthusiasm of poetry prompts rather to what is brilliant than what is just, and is always led to clothe its conceptions in that species of figurative language which is very opposite to simplicity. It is natural, therefore, to conclude, that in those few instances which are to be found of a chastened simplicity of thought and expression in poetry, the difficulty of transfusing the same character into a translation will be great, in proportion to the difficulty of attaining it in the original. Of this character are the following beautiful passages from Chaulieu:
Fontenay, lieu délicieux
Où je vis d’abord la lumiere,
Bientot au bout de ma carriere,
Chez toi je joindrai mes ayeux.
Muses, qui dans ce lieu champêtre
Avec soin me fites nourir,
Beaux arbres, qui m’avez vu naitre,
Bientot vous me verrez mourir.
Les louanges de la vie champêtre.
Je touche aux derniers instans
De mes plus belles années,
Et déja de mon printems
Toutes les fleurs sont fanées.
Je ne vois, et n’envisage
Pour mon arriere saison,
Que le malheur d’etre sage,
Et l’inutile avantage
De connoitre la raison.
Autrefois mon ignorance
Me fournissoit des plaisirs;
Les erreurs de l’espérance
Faisoient naitre mes désirs.
A present l’experience
M’apprend que la jouissance
De nos biens les plus parfaits
Ne vaut pas l’impatience
Ni l’ardeur de nos souhaits.
La Fortune à ma jeunesse
Offrit l’éclat des grandeurs;
Comme un autre avec souplesse
J’aurois brigué ses faveurs.
Mais sur le peu de mérite
De ceux qu’elle a bien traités,
J’eus honte de la poursuite
De ses aveugles bontés;
Et je passai, quoique donne
D’éclat, et pourpre, et couronne,
Du mépris de la personne,
Au mépris des dignités.[65]
Poesies diverses de Chaulieu, p. 44.
4. The foregoing examples exhibit a species of composition, which uniting just and natural sentiments with simplicity of expression, preserves at the same time a considerable portion of elevation and dignity. But there is another species of composition, which, possessing the same union of natural sentiments with simplicity of expression, is essentially distinguished from the former by its always partaking, in a considerable degree, of comic humour. This is that kind of writing which the French characterise by the term naif, and for which we have no perfectly corresponding expression in English. “Le naif,” says Fontenelle, “est une nuance du bas.”
In the following fable of Phædrus, there is a naïveté, which I think it is scarcely possible to transfuse into any translation:
Inops potentem dum vult imitari, perit.
In prato quædam rana conspexit bovem;
Et tacta invidiâ tantæ magnitudinis
Rugosam inflavit pellem: tum natos suos
Interrogavit, an bove esset latior.
Illi negarunt. Rursus intendit cutem
Majore nisu, et simili quæsivit modo
Quis major esset? Illi dixerunt, bovem.
Novissimè indignata, dum vult validius
Inflare sese, rupto jacuit corpore.
It would be extremely difficult to attain, in any translation, the laconic brevity with which this story is told. There is not a single word which can be termed superfluous; yet there is nothing wanting to complete the effect of the picture. The gravity, likewise, of the narrative when applied to describe an action of the most consummate absurdity; the self-important, but anxious questions, and the mortifying dryness of the answers, furnish an example of a delicate species of humour, which cannot easily be conveyed by corresponding terms in another language. La Fontaine was better qualified than any another for this attempt. He saw the merits of the original, and has endeavoured to rival them; but even La Fontaine has failed.
Une Grenouille vit un boeuf
Qui lui sembla de belle taille.
Elle, qui n’etoit pas grosse en tout comme un oeuf,
Envieuse s’étend, et s’enfle, et se travaille
Pour égaler l’animal en grosseur;
Disant, Regardez bien ma soeur,
Est ce assez, dites moi, n’y suis-je pas encore?
Nenni. M’y voila donc? Point du tout. M’y voila
Vous n’en approchez point. La chetive pecore
S’enfla si bien qu’elle creva.
Le monde est plein de gens qui ne sont pas plus sages,
Tout bourgeois veut batir comme les grands seigneurs;
Tout prince a des ambassadeurs,
Tout marquis veut avoir des pages.
But La Fontaine himself when original, is equally inimitable. The source of that naïveté which is the characteristic of his fables, has been ingeniously developed by Marmontel: “Ce n’est pas un poete qui imagine, ce n’est pas un conteur qui plaisante; c’est un temoin present à l’action, et qui veut vous rendre present vous-même. Il met tout en oeuvre de la meilleure foi du monde pour vous persuader; et ce sont tous ces efforts, c’est le sérieux avec lequel il mêle les plus grandes choses avec les plus petites; c’est l’importance qu’il attache à des jeux d’enfans; c’est l’interêt qu’il prend pour un lapin et une belette, qui font qu’on est tenté de s’écrier a chaque instant, Le bon homme! On le disoit de lui dans la societé. Son caractere n’a fait que passer dans ses fables. C’est du fond de ce caractere que sont émanés ces tours si naturels, ces expressions si naïves, ces images si fideles.”
It would require most uncommon powers to do justice in a translation to the natural and easy humour which characterises the dialogue in the following fable:
Les animaux malades de la Peste.
Un mal qui répand la terreur,
Mal que le ciel en sa fureur
Inventa pour punir les crimes de la terre,
La peste, (puis qu’il faut l’apeller par son nom),
Capable d’enrichir en un jour L’Acheron,
Faisoit aux animaux la guerre.
Ils ne mouroient pas tous, mais tous etoient frappés.
On n’en voyoit point d’occupés
A chercher le soûtien d’une mourante vie;
Nul mets n’excitoit leur envie.
Ni loups ni renards n’épioient
La douce et l’innocente proye.
Les tourterelles se fuyoient;
Plus d’amour, partant plus de joye.
Le Lion tint conseil, et dit, Mes chers amis,
Je crois que le ciel a permis
Pour nos pechés cette infortune:
Que le plus coupable de nous
Se sacrifie aux traits du céleste courroux;
Peut-être il obtiendra la guérison commune.
L’histoire nous apprend qu’en de tels accidents,
On fait de pareils dévoûements:
Ne nous flattons donc point, voions sans indulgence
L’état de notre conscience.
Pour moi, satisfaisant mes appetits gloutons
J’ai dévoré force moutons;
Que m’avoient-ils fait? Nulle offense:
Même il m’est arrivé quelquefois de manger le Berger.
Je me dévoûrai donc, s’il le faut; mais je pense
Qu’il est bon que chacun s’accuse ainsi que moi;
Car on doit souhaiter, selon toute justice,
Que le plus coupable périsse.
Sire, dit le Renard, vous êtes trop bon roi;
Vos scrupules font voir trop de délicatesse;
Eh bien, manger moutons, canaille, sotte espece,
Est-ce un péchê? Non, non: Vous leur fites, seigneur,
En les croquant beaucoup d’honneur:
Et quant au Berger, l’on peut dire
Qu’il etoit digne de tous maux,
Etant de ces gens-là qui sur les animaux
Se font un chimérique empire.
Ainsi dit le Renard, et flatteurs d’applaudir.
On n’osa trop approfondir
Du Tigre, ni de l’Ours, ni des autres puissances
Les moins pardonnables offenses.
Tous les gens querelleurs, jusqu’aux simples mâtins
Au dire de chacun, etoient de petits saints.
L’âne vint à son tour, et dit, J’ai souvenance
Qu’en un pré de moines passant,
La faim, l’occasion, l’herbe tendre, et je pense
Quelque diable aussi me poussant,
Je tondis de ce pré la largeur de ma langue:
Je n’en avois nul droit, puisqu’il faut parler net.
À ces mots on cria haro sur le baudet:
Un loup quelque peu clerc prouva par sa harangue
Qu’il falloit dévoüer ce maudit animal,
Ce pelé, ce galeux, d’ou venoit tout leur mal.
Sa peccadille fut jugee un cas pendable;
Manger l’herbe d’autrui, quel crime abominable!
Rien que la mort n’etoit capable
D’expier son forfait, on le lui fit bien voir.
Selon que vous serez puissant ou misérable,
Les jugements de cour vous rendront blanc ou noir.
5. No compositions will be found more difficult to be translated, than those descriptions, in which a series of minute distinctions are marked by characteristic terms, each peculiarly appropriated to the thing to be designed, but many of them so nearly synonymous, or so approaching to each other, as to be clearly understood only by those who possess the most critical knowledge of the language of the original, and a very competent skill in the subject treated of. I have always regarded Strada’s Contest of the Musician and Nightingale, as a composition which almost bids defiance to the art of a translator. The reader will easily perceive the extreme difficulty of giving the full, distinct, and appropriate meaning of those expressions marked in Italics.
Jam Sol a medio pronus deflexerat orbe,
Mitius e radiis vibrans crinalibus ignem:
Cum fidicen propter Tiberina fluenta, sonanti
Lenibat plectro curas, æstumque levabat,
Ilice defensus nigra, scenaque virenti.
Audiit hunc hospes sylvæ philomela propinquæ,
Musa loci, nemoris Siren, innoxia Siren;
Et prope succedens stetit abdita frondibus, altè
Accipiens sonitum, secumque remurmurat, et quos
Ille modos variat digitis, hæc gutture reddit.
Sensit se fidicen philomela imitante referri,
Et placuit ludum volucri dare; plenius ergo
Explorat citharam, tentamentumque futuræ
Præbeat ut pugnæ, percurrit protinus omnes
Impulsu pernice fides. Nec segnius illa
Mille per excurrens variæ discrimina vocis,
Venturi specimen præfert argutula cantûs.
Tunc fidicen per fila movens trepidantia dextram,
Nunc contemnenti similis diverberat ungue,
Depectitque pari chordas et simplice ductu:
Nunc carptim replicat, digitisque micantibus urget,
Fila minutatim, celerique repercutit ictu.
Mox silet. Illa modis totidem respondet, et artem
Arte refert. Nunc, ceu rudis aut incerta canendi,
Projicit in longum, nulloque plicatile flexu,
Carmen init simili serie, jugique tenore
Præbet iter liquidum labenti e pectore voci:
Nunc cæsim variat, modulisque canora minutis
Delibrat vocem, tremuloque reciprocat ore.
Miratur fidicen parvis è faucibus ire
Tam varium, tam dulce melos: majoraque tentans,
Alternat mira arte fides; dum torquet acutas
Inciditque, graves operoso verbere pulsat,
Permiscetque simul certantia rauca sonoris;
Ceu resides in bella viros clangore lacessat.
Hoc etiam philomela canit: dumque ore liquenti
Vibrat acuta sonum, modulisque interplicat æquis;
Ex inopinato gravis intonat, et leve murmur
Turbinat introrsus, alternantique sonore,
Clarat et infuscat, ceu martia classica pulset.
Scilicet erubuit fidicen, iraque calente,
Aut non hoc, inquit, referes, citharistia sylvæ,
Aut fractâ cedam citharâ. Nec plura locutus,
Non imitabilibus plectrum concentibus urget.
Namque manu per fila volat, simul hos, simul illos
Explorat numeros, chordâque laborat in omni;
Et strepit et tinnit, crescitque superbius, et se
Multiplicat relegens, plenoque choreumate plaudit.
Tum stetit expectans si quid paret æmula contra.
Illa autem, quanquam vox dudum exercita fauces
Asperat, impatiens vinci, simul advocat omnes
Necquicquam vires: nam dum discrimina tanta
Reddere tot fidium nativa et simplice tentat
Voce, canaliculisque imitari grandia parvis,
Impar magnanimis ausis, imparque dolori,
Deficit, et vitam summo in certamine linquens,
Victoris cadit in plectrum, par nacta sepulchrum.
He that should attempt a translation of this most artful composition, dum tentat discrimina tanta reddere, would probably, like the nightingale, find himself impar magnanimis ausis.[66]
It must be here remarked, that Strada has not the merit of originality in this characteristic description of the song of the Nightingale. He found it in Pliny, and with still greater amplitude, and variety of discrimination. He seems even to have taken from that author the hint of his fable: “Digna miratu avis. Primum, tanta vox tam parvo in corpusculo, tam pertinax spiritus. Deinde in una perfecta musicæ scientia modulatus editur sonus; et nunc continuo spiritu trahitur in longum, nunc variatur inflexo, nunc distinguitur conciso, copulatur intorto, promittitur revocato, infuscatur ex inopinato: interdum et secum ipse murmurat, plenus, gravis, acutus, creber, extentus; ubi visum est vibrans, summus, medius, imus. Breviterque omnia tam parvulis in faucibus, quæ tot exquisitis tibiarum tormentis ars hominum excogitavit.—Certant inter se, palamque animosa contentio est. Victa morte finit sæpe vitam, spiritu prius deficiente quam cantu.” Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 10, c. 29.
It would perhaps be still more difficult to give a perfect translation of this passage from Pliny, than of the fable of Strada. The attempt, however, has been made by an old English author, Philemon Holland; and it is curious to remark the extraordinary shifts to which he has been reduced in the search of corresponding expressions:
Explorat numeros, chordaque laborat in omni.
“Surely this bird is not to be set in the last place of those that deserve admiration; for is it not a wonder, that so loud and clear a voice should come from so little a body? Is it not as strange, that shee should hold her wind so long, and continue with it as shee doth? Moreover, shee alone in her song keepeth time and measure truly, she riseth and falleth in her note just with the rules of music, and perfect harmony; for one while, in one entire breath she drawes out her tune at length treatable; another while she quavereth, and goeth away as fast in her running points: sometimes she maketh stops and short cuts in her notes; another time she gathereth in her wind, and singeth descant between the plain song: she fetcheth in her breath again, and then you shall have her in her catches and divisions: anon, all on a sudden, before a man would think it, she drowneth her voice that one can scarce heare her; now and then she seemeth to record to herself, and then she breaketh out to sing voluntarie. In sum, she varieth and altereth her voice to all keies: one while full of her largs, longs, briefs, semibriefs, and minims; another while in her crotchets, quavers, semiquavers, and double semiquavers: for at one time you shall hear her voice full of loud, another time as low; and anon shrill and on high; thick and short when she list; drawn out at leisure again when she is disposed; and then, (if she be so pleased), shee riseth and mounteth up aloft, as it were with a wind organ. Thus shee altereth from one to another, and sings all parts, the treble, the mean, and the base. To conclude, there is not a pipe or instrument devised with all the art and cunning of man, that can affoord more musick than this pretty bird doth out of that little throat of hers.—They strive who can do best, and one laboreth to excel another in variety of song and long continuance; yea, and evident it is that they contend in good earnest with all their will and power: for oftentimes she that hath the worse, and is not able to hold out with another, dieth for it, and sooner giveth she up her vitall breath, than giveth over her song.”
The consideration of the above passage in the original, leads to the following remark.
5. There is no species of writing so difficult to be translated, as that where the character of the style is florid, and the expression consequently vague, and of indefinite meaning. The natural history of Pliny furnishes innumerable examples of this fault; and hence it will ever be found one of the most difficult works to be translated. A short chapter shall be here analyzed, as an instructive specimen.
Lib. 11, Cap. 2.
In magnis siquidem corporibus, aut certe majoribus, facilis officina sequaci materia fuit. In his tam parvis atque tam nullis, quæ ratio, quanta vis, quam inextricabilis perfectio! Ubi tot sensus collocavit in culice? Et sunt alia dictu minora. Sed ubi visum in eo prætendit? Ubi gustatum applicavit? Ubi odoratum inseruit? Ubi vero truculentam illam et portione maximam vocem ingeneravit? Qua subtilitate pennas adnexuit? Prælongavit pedum crura? disposuit jejunam caveam, uti alvum? Avidam sanguinis et potissimum humani sitim accendit? Telum vero perfodiendo tergori, quo spiculavit ingenio? Atque ut in capaci, cum cerni non possit exilitas, ita reciproca geminavit arte, ut fodiendo acuminatum, pariter sorbendoque fistulosum esset. Quos teredini ad perforanda robora cum sono teste dentes affixit? Potissimumque e ligno cibatum fecit? Sed turrigeros elephantorum miramur humeros, taurorumque colla, et truces in sublime jactus, tigrium rapinas, leonum jubas; cùm rerum natura nusquam magis quam in minimis tota sit. Quapropter quæso, ne hæc legentes, quoniam ex his spernunt multa, etiam relata fastidio damnent, cùm in contemplatione naturæ, nihil possit videri supervacuum.
Although, after the perusal of the whole of this chapter, we are at no loss to understand its general meaning, yet when it is taken to pieces, we shall find it extremely difficult to give a precise interpretation, much less an elegant translation of its single sentences. The latter indeed may be accounted impossible, without the exercise of such liberties as will render the version rather a paraphrase than a translation. In magnis siquidem corporibus, aut certe majoribus, facilis officina sequaci materiæ fuit. The sense of the term magnus, which is in itself indefinite, becomes in this sentence much more so, from its opposition to major; and the reader is quite at a loss to know, whether in those two classes of animals, the magni and the majores, the largest animals are signified by the former term, or by the latter. Had the opposition been between magnus and maximus, or major and maximus, there could not have been the smallest ambiguity. Facilis officina sequaci materiæ fuit. Officina is the workhouse where an artist exercises his craft; but no author, except Pliny himself, ever employed it to signify the labour of the artist. With a similar incorrectness of expression, which, however, is justified by general use, the French employ cuisine to signify both the place where victuals are dressed, and the art of dressing them. Sequax materia signifies pliable materials, and therefore easily wrought; but the term sequax cannot be applied with any propriety to such materials as are easily wrought, on account of their magnitude or abundance. Tam parvis is easily understood, but tam nullis has either no meaning at all, or a very obscure one. Inextricabilis perfectio. It is no perfection in anything to be inextricable; for the meaning of inextricable is, embroiled, perplexed, and confounded. Ubi tot sensus collocavit in culice? What is the meaning of the question ubi? Does it mean, in what part of the body of the gnat? I conceive it can mean nothing else: And if so, the question is absurd; for all the senses of a gnat are not placed in any one part of its body, any more than the senses of a man. Dictu minora. By these words the author intended to convey the meaning of alia etiam minora possunt dici; but the meaning which he has actually conveyed is, Sunt alia minora quam quæ dici possunt, which is false and hyperbolical; for no insect is so small that words may not be found to convey an idea of its size. Portione maximam vocem ingeneravit. What is portione maximam? It is only from the context that we guess the author’s meaning to be, maximam ratione portionis, i. e. magnitudinis insecti; for neither use, nor the analogy of the language, justify such an expression as vocem maximam portione. If it is alledged, that portio is here used to signify the power or intensity of the voice, and is synonymous in this place to vis, ενεργεια, we may safely assert, that this use of the term is licentious, improper, and unwarranted by custom. Jejunam caveam uti alvum; “a hungry cavity for a belly:” but is not the stomach of all animals a hungry cavity, as well as that of the gnat? Capaci cum cernere non potest exilitas. Capax is improperly contrasted with exilis, and cannot be otherwise translated than in the sense of magnus. Reciproca geminavit arte is incapable of any translation which shall render the proper sense of the words, “doubled with reciprocal art.” The author’s meaning is, “fitted for a double function.” Cum sono teste is guessed from the context to mean, uti sonus testatur. Cum rerum natura nusquam magis quam in minimis tota sit. This is a very obscure expression of a plain sentiment, “The wisdom and power of Providence, or of Nature, is never more conspicuous than in the smallest bodies.” Ex his spernunt multa. The meaning of ex his is indefinite, and therefore obscure: we can but conjecture that it means ex rebus hujusmodi; and not ex his quæ diximus; for that sense is reserved for relata.
From this specimen, we may judge of the difficulty of giving a just translation of Pliny’s Natural History.