nguage of the
publisher--the language which the great man employed in his writings was
very hard to understand; I say in his writings--for his colloquial
English was plain enough. Though not professing to be a scholar, he was
much addicted, when writing, to the use of Greek and Latin terms, not as
other people used them, but in a manner of his own, which set the
authority of dictionaries at defiance; the consequence was that I was
sometimes utterly at a loss to understand the meaning of the publisher.
Many a quarter of an hour did I pass at this period, staring at periods
of the publisher, and wondering what he could mean, but in vain, till at
last, with a shake of the head, I would snatch up the pen, and render the
publisher literally into German. Sometimes I was almost tempted to
substitute something of my own for what the publisher had written, but my
conscience interposed; the awful words, Traduttore traditore, commenced
ringing in my ears, and I asked myself whether I should be acting
honourably towards the publisher, who had committed to me the delicate
task of translating him into German; should I be acting honourably
towards him, in making him speak in German in a manner different from
that in which he expressed himself in English? No, I could not reconcile
such conduct with any principle of honour; by substituting something of
my own in lieu of these mysterious passages of the publisher, I might be
giving a fatal blow to his whole system of philosophy. Besides, when
translating into English, had I treated foreign authors in this manner?
Had I treated the minstrels of the Kaempe Viser in this manner?--No. Had
I treated Ab Gwilym in this manner? Even when translating his Ode to the
Mist, in which he is misty enough, had I attempted to make Ab Gwilym less
misty? No; on referring to my translation, I found that Ab Gwilym in my
hands was quite as misty as in his own. Then, seeing that I had not
ventured to take liberties with people who had never put themselves into
my hands for the purpose of being rendered, how could I venture to
substitute my own thoughts and ideas for the publisher's, who had put
himself into my hands for that purpose? Forbid it every proper
feeling!--so I told the Germans, in the publisher's own way, the
publisher's tale of an apple and a pear.

I at first felt much inclined to be of the publisher's opinion with
respect to the theory of the pear. After all, why should the earth be
sha