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outs; an-in, -ins; an if, ifs; a hum, hums, &c. And, in short,
.Every word, or affernblage of words, used as a bare word or indivisible subject, becomes a fingular noun regularly pluralis. able: as this forty, these fortyes or forty's ; one them, two thems ; one says, two fayles; a how, hows; a by, byes or by's; an and, ands; an alas, alasses; so a says-he, says-hees or he's; a be says, be-sayfis; a has-been, has-beens; a very-well, very-wells; a stay-aa little, slay-a-littles; a what-d’ye-call-it, what-d'ye-call-its, or what. d'ye-call-them, &c.
Thus it is that a title or other specifier, prefixed to a name, is held a conjunct part of it; and so the name alone is plura, lised ;, ; : Not two Lord-Gods; or two Jesus-Christs; but two St. Jameses (for Saint-Fameses). several Mir. yohns (for Mefter-Johns) various Majter-Jackey's (or "fačkies). the Mr. Wefts, and the Mrs. Wolis, , the NIr. and Mrs. Wefts. the Majter-Wejts and the Miss-Wests. both the Lord-Stranges.' ...,
If the Reader requires farther information of this work, we sefer him to the book itself; the method and design of which are too vague and confused to admit of any regular abstract. We cannot omit, however, the following short praxis on interiection, as a farther specimen of the style and execution, and as it bears some relation to the nature and success of the recent attacks that have been made on English Grammar. "
So impetuous assailants fall on pal-mal or flap-dash, make the heart of the surprised go pit-a-pat, or their tongue cry hey-day, hoity-toity, &c. But now to the hurry all fly in a furry. In the hub-bub or hurly-burly some stand fhill-i, mall. 1 ? or move willa they, nill-they; while others run helter-skelter, throw all things higgledy-piggledy, or turn them topsy-turvy, &c.'
sort The philosophical Dictionary for the pocket. Written in French by • a Society of Men of Lettei'sand translated into English from the · last Geneva Edition, corrected by the Authors. : With Notes,,cona - taining a Refutation of such Pajages as are any way exceptionable . in regard to Religion. 8vo, 5 s. Brown*,
THE infidelity of translations is become so trite a subject of il complaint, that we are heartily weary of repeating it. In justice, however, to the Authors of valuable originals, we must
* A fictitious name :-the booksellers having been intimidated from openly engaging in any translation of this book, by certain measures taken (though ineffeclually) to prevent its appearing in an English dress.
not forbear exposing, and remonstrating against, the injury done them, nowever ineffectual may be our endeavours to prevent it. It is well for many of the ingenious foreigners, whole writings are thus horribly travestied, chat they are not so well versed in our language as to be sensible of the indignity put on them; by which means they avoid much of the mortification they would otherwise feel, at such unmerited disgracë. It would redound greatly to the honour of good writers, as well as to the advan. tage of the republic of letters in general, if authors of reputation, in different languages, 'would engage in the friendly office of translating the works of each other. It is, indeed, high time to rescue this branch of literature, 'from the merciless and merGenary hands of such precipitate and indiscriminate undertakers, as at present engross it. We do not take upon us to say, whether the charge of venality be more properly brought against the translators themselves, or their employers. If we are rightly informed, the former, poor as their performances are, work nearly as well as they are paid. To extenuate the fault of the latter, also, it is to be observed, that we cannot always expect them to be competent judges of the merit of a foreign book, or the abilities of those whom they engage to translate it. Add to this, that, their best hands being generally too much employed, they are obliged to take up with such as have nothing to do. Their jealousy of each other, also, if not their avidity, will hardly permit them to give their workmen time to peruse the original before they expect the copy of the translation. Nay, we have heard of a certain translation-monger, undoubtedly a genius in his way, who, to save time, paper, pens and ink, used to dictate to the printer's compositor, without furnishing any written copy, at all. A piece tbus manufactured must doubtless turn out a faithful and elegant version! As to the work before' us ;' if the proof positive did not immediately stare us in the face, we should hardly have thought it possible that such a spirited and entertaining piece, in the original, could fo totally lose its diftinguishing qualities, by means of any version or paraphrase: whatever. The greater part, if not the whole, of this dictionary, was undoubtedly written by Mr. de Voltaire, one of the most sprightly and agreeable writers of the age. At the same time, the translation of it is one of the most heavy, dull, and disagreeable performances that ever was read*. One could
1. Another materiál obje&tion hath been made to this publication ;' which is, that several of the most capital articles of the original are omitted ; particularly three of those which we selected and translated in our Review., We shall not presume to hint at the motive of such omilfion; but we hardly think the Translator will chuse to excuse himself by saying they were not inserţed in the edition from which he pretends to have made his version,
not have imagined, that, in the mere transfusion of its substance from one language into another, the whole spirit of it, volatile as it was, should Ay off and deposit so insipid a sediment. Had it been fabricated in the laboratory of Dulness herself, not allo her leaden instruments of filtration, distillation or precipitation, could so effectually have diffipated its salts, and left so tasteless a phlegm, so mere a caput mortuum behind! The original, it is true, was far from commanding our constant approbation; yet even the most exceptionable article feldom failed to engage our attention. And, if at any time the Author provoked our censure, it was generally when we found him more ingenious than ingenyous, more witty than wise.
Having thus freely expressed our sentiments of this translation, and given a pretty ample account of the original in a former Review, we should here take a final leave of both, were we not in a manner neceffitated to make some reply to the Translator ; who has in effect charged us with having injured the Author and imposed on the public in our former ftrictures. Our Readers, by turning back to our Review, Vol. XXXI. page 507, may see the grounds of this accusation. We have there condemned one of the articles contained in this dictionary, as an infamous attempt to palliate, or apologize for, the detestable vice of pederasty. Now the present sagacious Translator enters into a defence of that article; asserting it to be one of the least exceptionable in the whole book, and treating our objections with ridicule. He, pious man! appears to be concerned altogether for the irreligious tendency of this work ; our ridiculous scruples lay against the indecency and immorality of it; and we must own it is even now with extreme reluctance, though under the necessity of our own justification, that we proceed to any farther eclaircissement on so disagreeable a subject. As the. Trantiator, however, hath not thought proper, among his other omissions, to leave out the article in question, the animadversions necessary to our own defence may not prove altogether useless to the public.
The original title of the article runs thus : Amour nommé som cratique ; tranflated in the present verfion Socratic Love, as it is called. On a repeated and confiderate perusal of this article, we thought ourtelves bound in duty to say, that nothing could be more infamous than what is there advanced in palliation of the most detestable of all crimes.' In contradiction to this, the
Translator, or his scholiaft for him, says, that nothing can be more false, than that the Author attempts to palliate this crime. Does not he,' continues the Translator, ' set out with affirming it to be destructive of the human race, a debasement and violation of nature, and the higheft degree of corruption? Is this a palliation? or is it not rather à representation of that
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infamous crime in the light it deserves ? We will leave our Readers to answer these questions themselves, after a fair and impartial review of the whole article. It begins thus ; • How çould it be, that a vice, which, if general, would extinguish the human species, an infamous crime against nature, should become so natural ? It appears to be the last degree of reflective corruption; and yet it is usually found in those who have not had time to be corrupted *.' Now, we see, the Author is so far from affirming that this crime is unnatural, that the very first object of his enquiry is, how it came to be so natural? for that it is so, he evidently takes for granted. Again, so far from affirming this vice to be the highest degree of corruption, the Author only says it appears to be so, but that it is found in the uncorrupted. It is true, he says, if this practice were general it would extinguish the human species; but he might have said the same with greater truth of celibacy t; which is reckoned by many good Christians to be a virtue. Ay, but he afterwards expressly calls this an unnatural vice! and here calls it an infamous crime against nature !' He does so. But then he asks, with the most not, able inconsistency, how this unnatural vice became so natural? At the same time he allows that it is not what it appears to be; for that this confessedly infamous crime is not the concomitant of corruption but innocence. Is not all this palliative? Is this rather a representation of that infamous crime in the light it deserves ? For shame, Mr. Scholiaft! what could you not see as far into the mill-ftone as you had picked it? Do you build so much on
. That this Writer may have no cause of complaint, we have here made use of the words of his own translation ; which is far from being faithful. That the Reader may not, however, think the Author's words capable of a ftill more favourable interpretation, than the present Translator hath given them, we shall point out some few infidelities, either real or designed, which now tend to mislead the English reader. The original of the above passage runs thus : Comment s'est-il pû faire qu'un vice, deftructeur du genre-humain s'il etait general, qu'un attentat infame contre la nature, soit pourtant si naturel ? il parait étre le dernier degré de la corruption reflechie, et cependant il est le partage ordinaire de ceux qui n'ont pas eu encor le temps d'eure corrompus.' • Whence can it be, that a vice, which, if general, would extirpate the human species, a scandalous insult on our very nature, should be nevertheless so natural? It seems to be the utmost degree of, studied debau. chery; and yet it is usuaily practised by those who have not had time, to become dissolute.' We see here, that the Tranflator, by omituing che English word equivalent to pourtant, and rendering soit, joidd beo came, hath greatly softened the expreffion, and indeed given the fentence an equivocal appearance, which it by no means wears in the original.
+ The crime of pederasty, however abominable, not necessarily exe cluding natural procreation, as celibacy does,
the Author's throwing out a few stigmatizing terms, in the way of parenthefis ? Could he do less, in public, than to call pederasty a vice? Was it necessary, in order to render the article in question exceptionalle, that he should have called it a virtue? Was it necessary that he should have expressly entitled it an excuse, or an apology, for fodomy ? Or, is the mere annexing an opprobrious appellation to any criminal practice, sufficient to testify a real deteftation in the writer, or to excite that abhorrence in the reader, which such crime demerits? The accomplice of a pick-pocket is frequently the loudest in crying flopthief, going fometimes even so far as to propose a ducking, when it is necessary to screen the offender from justice. Are we, therefore, to take his vociferations for the effects of his own integrity, or the innocence of the culprit? Whac chance would an avowed palliation of a notorious crime ever stand, of being read ? Surely none ! The vile advocates, if any there be, 'for fo unnatural a vice as pederasty, most therefore take more infinuating and artful methods to inftil their abominable'palliatives; which would otherwise be too shocking to engage the attention of the most diffolute reader. The Translator fays, that the Author's imputing the source of this vice to the inexperience of youth, is a mere point of speculation, not at all tending to immorality.' How! Does not the fupposition of irs arifing from inexperience and simplicity tend to palliate the crime;'and doth not every palliation of vice tend to immorality? And yet ort this fuppofition the Author thus expatiates : It' makes its way into novice hearts, .who are strangers to ambition, fraud, and a thirst after wealth ; it is blind youth, which at the end of childhood, by an unaccountable* instinct, plunges itself into this enormity. .. The inclination of the two sexes for each other declares itself very early; but after all that has been said of the African women, and those of the fouthern part of Afia, this propensity is much stronger in man than in woman. Agreeably to the universal law of nature in all creatures, it is ever the male who makes the first advances. The young males of our species brought up together, coming to feel that play which nature begins to unfold to them, in the want of the natural object of their inftinét, betake themselves to a resemblance of such objects.
• It is no:bing uncommon for a boy by the beauty of his complexion, and the mild sparkle of his eyes for two or thrce years, to have the look of a pretty girl : now the love of such a boy arises from a mistake in nature; the female sex is honoured in
* Not unaccountable, Mr. Translator! the Author attempts to taccount for it in the very next paragraph: -- the original is maldemeli,