expreffions grow with them. To exprefs ideas that are not our own, in a way peculiar to ourselves, is almost folely the work of art, and this art is the more estimable in proportion as it is concealed. But however much it may be concealed, we are always fenfible of its exiftence, and it is on this account that we are fond of works of imitation. However, while we allow to original authors the first rank, it would feem that a good tranflator deferves to be placed immediately after, above thofe authors who have written as well as it is poffible to write without genius. But there is among us a kind of fatality annexed to all the arts which makes us fond of what is foreign. There are some arts which we have debased by the most unjust prejudices, there are fome to which we have not paid fufficient refpect, and the trade of a tranflator is in the num ber. It is not this injuftice only which makes his labours fo ungrateful, and the number of good tranflators fo fmall. Although they find in the practice of their art enough of fetters which they cannot fhake off, we have taken pleasure to draw thofe fetters ftill clofer, in prejudice, it would feem, of their fuccefs and of our own intereft. The first yoke that is impofed on them, or rather which they impofe on themselves, is that of fubmitting to be the copyifts rather than the rivals of thofe authors they tranflate. Superftitiously attached to their original, they would think themselves guilty of facrilege, were they to embellish a fentiment, even in the places that need it; they permit themselves only to fall short of their author, and in this they easily fucceed. It is juft as if an engraver, who copies the picture of a great master, should deny himself a few flight and gentle touches, in order to improve its beauties or to fhade its defects. Since the tranf lator is fo often forced to remain inferior to his author, ought he not to rise above him when he can? If it be objected that fuch a liberty would degenerate into licentioufnefs, I reply, that when the original is well chofen, the opportunities of correcting or embellifhing it will be very rare, and if they are frequent, the work is not worth the pains of tranflating. Another obftacle in the way of tranflators is the timidity that restrains them, when, with a little courage, they might equal their model. This courrage confifts in hazarding new expreffions, in order to render properly certain lively and nervous expreffions of the original; this is indeed a liberty which must be ufed with difcretion, and only when it is neceffary; and when will it be fo? or will it only be fo when the difficulty arifes from the genius of the two languages? Each has its laws which it is not permitted to trangrefs; but when there is reafon to fuppofe that the author has hazarded an ingenious expreffion, it is then we may endeavour to do the fame. Now an ingenious expreffion is not a new word fuggefted by fingularity or negligence, but the neceffary and dexterous union of fome known terms, in order to give a new idea fufficient energy. This is almoft the only way of making innovations, which the laws of good writing permit. The most indifpenfable condition in these new expreffions is, that they bear no marks of constraint, although they have been occafioned by difficulty. We are fometimes in company with ingenious foreigners who speak our language eafily and boldly; these, in converfation, think in their own language, and tranflate into ours; and we often regret that the energetic and fingular terms which they employ, are not authorized by cuftom. The converfation of fuch foreigners (fuppofing it correct) is the image of a good tranflation. The original ought to fpeak Our learned men would find a confiderable advantage in thus tranflating, in detached parcels, certain works which contain fufficient beauties to make the fortune of many a translator who is poffeffed of taste and genius. For inftance, how agreeable would it be to have Seneca and Lucan thus compreffed and abridged by peak our language, not with that ful in Virgil, but so vapid in all tranffuperftitious and fcrupulous accu- tions? The wife precept of Horace, racy which we obferve in our mother to abandon what we cannot treat with tongue; but with that noble free- fuccefs, is as applicable to tranflation dom which is able to borrow from as to the other kinds of writing. one language, expreffions that may embellish another. The tranflation will then have all the qualities that make it valuable, an eafy and natural air, the ftamp of the genius that characterises the original, and at the fame time that taste of the foil which the foreign feafoning will naturally give it. Thus, good tranflations will be the furest and most ready means to enrich a language. They will multiply good models, they will affift us in judging of the characters of writers, of ages and nations; they will fhew us the manners that diftinguish univerfal and abfolute taste from that which is national and particular. The third arbitrary law to which tranflators fubmit is the ridiculous obligation they think themselves under to tranflate their author from beginning to end. Hence the tranflator, jaded and difgufted in the weak places, languishes afterwards in the happier paffages. And indeed, why fhould one torment himself to exprefs a falfe thought elegantly, or a known idea with tafte? It is not to make known the faults of the ancients that they are tranflated, but to enrich the literature of cur country with their beauties. To tranilate them by piecemeal, is not to mutilate them, it is to paint them in profile and to advantage. What pleasure can we receive from a translation of that part of the Eneid where the harpies are reprefented running away with the dinner of the Trojans; from that of the filly and fometimes grofs pleafantries of Cicero; or from thofe paffages of an hiftorian that prefent nothing interefting, either in matter or ftile? Why tranfplant into one language what has no charms but in another, fuch as the precepts of agriculture, and the defcriptions of pastoral life, so delight an able tranflator? Seneca is excellent to quote, but tedious to read through; he winds inceffantly and with a brilliant rapidity round the fame object; differing in this from Cicero, who advances fteadily but flowly to his purpofe. Lucan is the Seneca of poets; he is full of manly and real beauties, but he is too declamatory, too monotonous, too full of maxims, and too devoid of images. The writers who deferve to be tranflated entire, are those who please by their very negligence, fuch as Plutarch in his Lives, where quitting his fubject, and taking it up again at every inftant, he converfes with his reader, but never tires him. What I have just propofed leads me to a reflection which indeed is but remotely connected with the matter in hand,but which may be useful. Afmall number of authors is put into the hands of children at school, and a very fmall part of thefe is taught them. Their memories are loaded with the good, bad, and indifferent of that small part, and, thanks to the tafte of the preceptors, the true beauties are thofe which are least pointed out to them. Would it not be infinitely more profitable to choose, in the different works of each author, the most excellent paffages, and to teach children only thofe parts that deserve to be retained? by this means they would make their own, not all the thoughts of the antients, but all E 2 their their best thoughts. They would know the character and ftile of a great many authors, and they would have the advantage of adorning their minds while they were forming their tafte. Such a collection, if judicioufly made, would perhaps not be very great, and the ordinary time allotted for education would be fufficient to render it familiar. I cannot fufficiently exhort fome able man to undertake it, but fuch a perfon ought to poffefs two qualities which are not often found united, a profound acquaintance with the works of the antients, and a total exemption from any fuperftitious reverence for them. He ought not to refemble that ridiculous admirer of Homer, who, having resolved to underline every thing he thought excellent in the works of that great poet, found at the end that he had underlined the whole book. Could fuch a man flatter himself with feeling the true beauties of Homer, or would Homer have been flattered with the praise of fuch an admirer ? D Of Duelling.-From Dr Boyd's Juftic of Peace. UELLING, as a grofs breach of the peace, as well as an offence against religion and morality, falls under the jurifdiction of the juftices of peace. The origin of this practice, and the diferent afpects it has affumed, according to the varying features of our public law, will be briefly noticed in the fequel. We fhall begin here with the ftatutes enacted for preventing or punishing it. The first ftatute which properly regards the punishment of duelling, as the A&t Parl, 1600, cap. 12. which prohibits any perfon in time-coming from fighting any fingle combat without the King's licence, under the pain of death, and confifcation of moveables: The provoker is to be punished by a more ignominious death than the defender, at the pleasure of his majefty. The preamble of the ftatute fets forth, that great inconveniencies had been engendred within the realm, by the great liberty which fundry perfons took in provoking others to fingle combat, upon fudden and frivolous quarrels. This act, if executed, was certainly fufficient of itself to reftrain thefe deftructive practices, though, perhaps, nothing less than a capital punish ment could effect it. The fecond, and the only other Scottish Scottish ftatute on the subject, is the A& Parl. 1696, Cap. 35. which enacts, "That whoever, principal or fecond, or other interpofed perfon, gives a challenge to fight a duel, or fagle combat, or whofoever accepts the fame, or whofoever, either principal or fecond, on either fide, engages therein, albeit no fighting enfue, fhall be punished by the pain of banishment and efcheat of moveables, without prejudice to the act already made against the fighting of duels, which his majefty, with confent forefaid, hereby ratifies and confirms." Befides thefe exprefs laws, which, from many circumstances, have been greatly relaxed, the prevention of duelling falls particularly under the power of the Juftices, as they are in a particular manner empowered to prevent and punish all breaches of the peace, or any thing tending to a breach of it. And thefe general powers of the Juftices of Peace ought now to be the more carefully exercifed, as the manners and characters of the age have left almost no other remedy. The method in which breaches of the peace are to be prevented, has been treated of at large in the beginning of this work, and it is needlefs here to refume the fubject. Only let it be observed, that the utility of this magiftracy can in nothing be more fully unfplayed, than while it thus comes into the affiftance of expiring laws, and prevents that which thefe laws are become too feeble to punish. Nothing can be more honourable to the magiftracy than fuch a diftinction; and nothing more disgraceful to the magiftrate, than a neglect of those powers with which he is legally vefted, and of which, even the manners of the times have not in the fmalleft degree deprived him. For, though our minds may recoil from the idea of inflicting capital punishments upon those who, in these times, may have fought a duel, yet there is nothing revolting in the idea of preventing, by legal precautions, what may be productive of fuch fatal effects, as duelling may produce, and too frequently produces. The law of England is much the fame upon the fubject with the law of Scotland. For, in all duelling in cold blood, not only the principal who actually kills the other, but also his feconds, are guilty of murder, whether they fought or not. And the feconds of the parties flain are likewife guilty, as acceffories, ift Hawk. 82. The mere fighting, tho' none of the parties be killed, at least iu a public place, is punishable by fine and imprisonment: And the fame punishment may be inflicted upon the fender and bearer of a challenge, Blackstone, Book 4. And, though the law of England, does not hold it be malice prepense, which conftitutes murder, when two parties fuddenly fall out, bring their weapons, and fight in fuch a field, and one killeth the other, because the fetching of the weapons is conftrued by the law to be only a continuance of the fudden falling out; yet, as is exprefsly laid down by Lord Coke and Lord Hale, if there was any deliberation, fuch as an agreement to meet the next day, or even the fame day, if there were fuch a competent distance of time that deliberation may be prefumed from it, fuch fighting is then to be held as murder. 3d Inst. 51. ift Hale's Hift. 453. Notwithstanding, however, that this offence of duelling is efteemed fo heinous by the law of England, the manners there also have triumphed oyer the law; and duelling, according ly, is either never profecuted at all, or the jury mitigates the feverity of the law, by bringing it in manflaughter, or frequently acquits entirely the perfon accufed. In England, therefore, as well as in Scotland, fince the punishment has grown almost obso lete, we have to look for the preven nother method in ufe upon very folemn occafions. 'Eft et alia,' fays he, Their efforts,obfervatio aufpiciorum, qua gravium Bellorum eventus explorant ; ejus gentis cum qua bellum eft, captivum quoque modo interceptum, electo popularium fuorum, patriis quemque armis committant; victoria hujus vel illius pro præjudicio accipitur.' Tacit. de Mor. Germ. tion of duelling chiefly in the exertions of the magistracy established for preferving the peace. Their efforts, and their efforts almoft folely, can ftop the progrefs of this rampant mifchief, by binding parties over to the peace, under fevere penalties, whether pecuniary or corporal. This part of their duty requires, indeed, great exertion, and great attention and care; but their labours must be fully recompenfed by the honour which attends fuch fignal fervices to the community. 'Duels,' fays Sir George M'Kenzie, in the following elegant paffage, are but illuftrious and honourable murders. This is that imperious crime which triumphs over both pubHe revenge and private virtue, and ramples proudly both upon the law of the nation, and the life of our enemy. Courage thinks law here to be but pedantry, and honour perfuades men that obedience here is cowardlinefs. 'We find,' continues he, 'no fuch crime as this among the Romans, becaufe that wife nation employed their lives again their enemies, and not against their fellow-citizens; and the true trial of courage among them was fighting against the enemies of Rome.' Mackenzie's Crimin. part I. Tit. 12. It becomes, thus, a matter of very confiderable importance, and it is al; fo much connected with the fubje&t of this work, to trace the practice of duelling up to its origin, and to examine whether it be founded upon any juft principle. This we fhall endeavour to perform as briefly as is confiftent with accuracy. Duelling owes its birth to the judicial combat; and the judicial combat can be traced to a very high antiquity among the northern nations. This appears from the following paffage in Tacitus, who, after having given an account of the other aufpices practifed among the Germans, proceeds to obferve, that they had a From this fuperftitious fource all the various modes of trial, by fingle combat, the ordeal, and fuch like, feem evidently to have flowed; while the imagination was fondly nourished, that the Deity would not fail to interpofe, in an extraordinary manner, for the purpose of bestowing victory upon the fide of justice. It was not, however, till the more complete establishment of the feudal fyftem in Europe, that the practice of duelling was authorised by the public fanction of law. The laws of the Lombards first regulated it by twenty feveral determinations, which were adopted either in form or in substance, by the other nations of Europe. Philip the Fair King of France, alfo, in the year1360,made many regulations with regard to duelling, which he ordained to be allowed under the four following heads: 1. That it should be allowed only in criminal and capital cases: 2. And in crimes treacherously committed, where the truth could not otherwise be difcovered: 3. Where ftrcng prefumptions lay against the perfon provoked 4. Where it was certain fuch a crime was committed against the provoker. Our old law, too, has many regulations on this head, which it behoves us fhortly to notice. The determination of civil as well as criminal cafes, was, in Scotland, anciently entrusted to the fword. Thus, by Reg. Maj. lib. 2. cap. 16. verfe 47. which is entitled 'Of Dowrie, or an reasonable Terce,' it is ordained, that gif the heire denyes all the wife's right and clame, and alledges |