tives. Wieland indulged
this impulse when he sought to assimilate himself to the daring,
extraordinary Aristophanes, and when he was able to translate his jests,
as audacious as they were witty, though he toned them down with his own
innate grace.

For all these presentations an insight into the higher plastic art was
also obviously necessary, and since our friend was never vouchsafed the
sight of those ancient masterpieces which still survive, he sought to
rise to them in thought, to bring them before his eyes by the power of
imagination; so that we cannot fail to be amazed to see how talent is
able to form for itself a conception even of what is far away. Moreover,
he would have been entirely successful if his laudable caution had not
restrained him from taking decisive steps; for art in general, and
especially the art of the ancients, can neither be grasped nor
comprehended without enthusiasm. He who will not commence with amazement
and with admiration finds no entrance into the holy of holies. Our
friend, however, was far too cautious, and how could he have been
expected to make in this single instance an exception from his general
rule of life?

If, however, he was near akin to the Greeks in taste, in sentiment he
was still more closely allied to the Romans--not that he would have
allowed himself to be carried away by republican or by patriotic zeal,
but he really finds his peers among the Romans, whereas he has, in a
sense, only fictitiously assimilated himself to the Greeks. Horace has
much similarity to him; himself an artist, and himself a man of the
court and of the world, he intelligently estimates life and art; Cicero,
philosopher, orator, statesman, and active citizen, also closely
resembles him--and both arose from inconsiderable beginnings to great
dignities and honors.

While our friend occupies himself with the works of both these men, how
gladly would he transport himself back into their century and their
surroundings, and transfer himself to their epoch, in order to transmit
to us a clear picture of that past; and he succeeds amazingly. Perhaps,
on the whole, more sympathy might be desired for the men with whom he is
concerned, but such is his fear of partisanship that he prefers to take
sides against them rather than on their behalf.

There are two maxims of translation. The one demands that the author of
an alien nation be brought over to us so that we may regard him as our
own; the other, on t