In order that the merit of the original work may be so completely transfused as to produce its full effect, it is necessary, not only that the translation should contain a perfect transcript of the sentiments of the original, and present likewise a resemblance of its style and manner; but, That the translation should have all the ease of original composition.
When we consider those restraints within which a translator finds himself necessarily confined, with regard to the sentiments and manner of his original, it will soon appear that this last requisite includes the most difficult part of his task.[46] To one who walks in trammels, it is not easy to exhibit an air of grace and freedom. It is difficult, even for a capital painter, to preserve in a copy of a picture all the ease and spirit of the original; yet the painter employs precisely the same colours, and has no other care than faithfully to imitate the touch and manner of the picture that is before him. If the original is easy and graceful, the copy will have the same qualities, in proportion as the imitation is just and perfect. The translator’s task is very different: He uses not the same colours with the original, but is required to give his picture the same force and effect. He is not allowed to copy the touches of the original, yet is required, by touches of his own, to produce a perfect resemblance. The more he studies a scrupulous imitation, the less his copy will reflect the ease and spirit of the original. How then shall a translator accomplish this difficult union of ease with fidelity? To use a bold expression, he must adopt the very soul of his author, which must speak through his own organs.
Let us proceed to exemplify this third rule of translation, which regards the attainment of ease of style, by instances both of success and failure.
The familiar style of epistolary correspondence is rarely attainable even in original composition. It consists in a delicate medium between the perfect freedom of ordinary conversation and the regularity of written dissertation or narrative. It is extremely difficult to attain this delicate medium in a translation; because the writer has neither a freedom of choice in the sentiments, nor in the mode of expressing them. Mr. Melmoth appears to me to be a great model in this respect. His Translations of the Epistles of Cicero and of Pliny have all the ease of the originals, while they present in general a very faithful transcript of his author’s sense.
“Surely, my friend, your couriers are a set of the most unconscionable fellows. Not that they have given me any particular offence; but as they never bring me a letter when they arrive here, is it fair, they should always press me for one when they return?” Melmoth, Cic. Ep. 10, 20.
Præposteros habes tabellarios; etsi me quidem non offendunt. Sed tamen cum a me discedunt, flagitant litteras, cum ad me veniunt, nullas afferunt. Cic. Ep. l. 15, ep. 17.
“Is it not more worthy of your mighty ambition, to be blended with your learned brethren at Rome, than to stand the sole great wonder of wisdom amidst a parcel of paltry provincials?” Melmoth, Cic. Ep. 2, 23.
Velim—ibi malis esse ubi aliquo numero sis, quam isthic ubi solus sapere videare. Cic. Ep. l. 1, ep. 10.
“In short, I plainly perceive your finances are in no flourishing situation, and I expect to hear the same account of all your neighbours; so that famine, my friend, most formidable famine, must be your fate, if you do not provide against it in due time. And since you have been reduced to sell your horse, e’en mount your mule, (the only animal, it seems, belonging to you, which you have not yet sacrificed to your table), and convey yourself immediately to Rome. To encourage you to do so, you shall be honoured with a chair and cushion next to mine, and sit the second great pedagogue in my celebrated school.” Melmoth, Cic. Ep. 8, 22.