judgment and feeling. But it is not the nature of satire to dwell upon general topics, without allusion to existing circumstances, or without reference to particular, and even familiar, examples.

But it may be asked, if vice and folly would not be exposed with perhaps greater effect by the delineation of fictitious characters, and by general observations upon manners, than by dwelling upon the absurdity of a temporary fashion, or upon the guilt or weakness of an obscure individual. To this question the satirist may justly reply, that his aim is not only to censure vice, but to punish those who practice it. If example teach at all, it teaches most where it applies best. The principle upon which punishment is justly inflicted, is for the sake of example; and the punishment, which we dread because it may be ours, seems terrible even when it falls upon others. General and abstract reasoning upon virtue and morality, may delight the wise and the good; but it rarely corrects the foolish, or reforms the profligate.

As the moralist treats generally of virtue and of

wisdom, of the influence of reason, and of the subordination of the passions; so the satirist remarks and censures those private and individual deviations from good sense or good conduct, which it does not fall within the province of the moralist to observe. The moralist displays the variety of the human character, as it exists in all ages and nations; the satirist marks its shades and its defects in particular instances.

While, therefore, I fully admit the charge of obscurity, which has been brought against Persius,

I cannot allow to it that have in most other cases.

complain of the rust on an

weight, which it would Indeed, we may as well ancient coin, as of the

obscurity of an ancient satire. Nature, it is true, always holds up the same mirror, but prejudice, habit, and education, are continually changing the appearance of the objects seen in it.

The objections which have been made to my Author in some other respects, are more difficult to answer. His unpolished verses, his coarse comparisons, and his ungraceful transitions from one subject to another, manifest, it is said, either

his contempt or his ignorance of elegant compo

sition.

It cannot, indeed, be contended, that Persius dis plays the politeness of Horace, or that he shows himself an adept in the callida junctura. His poetry is a strong and rapid torrent, which pours in its infracted course over rocks and precipices, and which occasionally, like the waters of the Rhone, disappears from the view, and loses itself under ground.

But although some critics have been thus far justly severe upon Persius, is it possible that they should be so much prejudiced against him, by the imperfections of his style, as to deny that this excellent satirist possessed energy, acuteness, and spirit? because his language is rude, is not his bold and manly sense to be admired? What mind is so fastidious as to contemn just observations, and sound and wise reflections, because they are not expressed in the most elegant manner. The ancients, who must have seen the defects of Persius better than we can do, nevertheless admired him. All the philosophers and poets of his time seem to

have esteemed him; and the best critic, and the wittiest epigrammatist of antiquity, were among

the number of those who celebrated him. And then comes the elder Scaliger, with all his offensive pedantry, to inform us that Persius was silly and dull. But Quintilian would not have praised a silly writer, nor would Martial have admired a dull one.

As the translator of Persius, I have sometimes thought it necessary to polish his language. Even Dryden found the expressions of this Author too much forced to be literally translated; and he observes, with more truth than delicacy, that his verses are scabrous and hobbling.

What Dryden judged too rude for imitation, the critics of the present day will probably think I have been prudent in not copying. I have generally, therefore, followed the outlines; but I have seldom ventured to employ the colouring of Persius. Where the coarse metaphor, or the extravagant hyperbole debases, or obscures the sense in the original, I have changed, or even omitted it; where the idiom of the English language required

it, I have thought myself justified, in abandoning the literal sense of my Author; and lastly, where the bold hand of the Roman satirist has torn the veil, which ought perhaps for ever to have concealed from mankind the monstrous and unnatural crimes of Nero, I have turned the attention of my readers to reflections less disagreeable, and to objects less disgusting.

Some, I know, there are who think that in translation not a thought of the author should be lost, and not one added to him. Such readers I shall not often please. But I must observe, that of all kinds of poetry satire is the most difficult to translate with fidelity, and yet with elegance. The epic, the tragic, or the lyric poet, speaks to the heart, or to the imagination; and his ideas may be expressed in almost every tongue. What language but can convey the sublime, paint the beautiful, or express the pathetic!

Not only works of taste and imagination, but even philosophic and didactic poems are more easily translated than satiric compositions. We can always follow, though we may not always