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these beauties and faults are frequently so allied in composition, that you cannot take one and leave the other. If conciseness gives frequently great force, it must occasionally bring a little obscurity: if amplification produces richness, it must sometimes also produce weakness.
The ninth chapter brings us to the third general rule.
If the order in which I have classed the three general laws of translation be their just and natural arrangement, which I think will hardly be denied, it will follow, that in all cases where a sacrifice is necessary to be made of one of those laws to another, a due regard ought to be paid to their rank and comparative importance. The different genius of the languages of the original and translation, will sometimes make it necessary to depart from the manner of the original, in order to convey a faithful picture of the sense; but it would be highly preposterous to depart, in any case, from the sense, for the sake of imitating the manner. Equally improper would it be, to sacrifice either the sense or manner of the original, (if these can be preserved consistently with purity of expression), to a fancied ease or superior gracefulness of composition.' pp. 224, 225.
Here again we cannot agree with the critic. An air of originality and ease is, in our opinion, the very first requisite of a translation. If a translator cannot unite this with the other two qualifications, he is undoubtedly unskilful, but he may yet be read, a privilege which will not long be granted to him, who may give the sense of his author faithfully and in his proper manner, and yet with the stiff and ungraceful air of a trans.lator.
Here we must take our leave of the essayist. After this there is nothing but minute criticisms, backed with numberless quotations, of which it is impossible to give an abstract. The volume, on the whole, it is needless to say is the production of an elegant and cultivated mind; but it is certainly drawn out to a very unnecessary length.
Art. VIII. Memoirs of the Private and Public Life of William Penn. By Thomas Clarkson, A.M. 2 vols. 8vo. pp. 1020. Longman and Co. 1813.
THE object of biography is to improve the mind by an ac
count of the lives and characters of individuals. The materials of which it should be composed, must be derived from the singular and extraordinary parts of the species; since it can be of no utility to put it upon record that a man was born, eat, drank, slept, and died. Proximity of time and place, as it often magnifies what is little, and gives a kind of rarity to what is very common, may indeed create, on the death of ordinary persons, an interest in the detail of their lives: but as the only general interest, that can be felt in those who have long been
removed from the stage of action, must arise from singularities in their vices or virtues, their exploits or sufferings, the good or evil they have done to their fellow men-if their lives offered nothing peculiar in those respects, it is labour in vain to attempt to draw them from oblivion.
William Penn was evidently an extraordinary man. His talents were great; his sufferings and his virtues remarkable; his activity rarely equalled. If not the author of the religious sect of the Quakers, it is indebted to him for the greater portion of its excellence; while as a legislator, he ranks with the most renowned sages of antiquity and the greatest benefactors of mankind. The first geniuses of the last century wrote his panegyric. But the particulars of his life are little known to the public. Mr. Clarkson's partialities to the Quakers, his ardent love of liberty, his active and energetic philanthropy will easily make it believed that he is a foud admirer of Penn, and that he could not have fallen on a subject more agreeable to his taste than the memoirs of that eminent person. He seems to have spared no pains or labour in informing himself of every circumstance relative to him, whether contained in well-known or obscure works. But notwithstanding the interest of the subject, the extent and accuracy of his information, the pious, benevolent and tolerant spirit which he discovers in every page, and the artless simplicity of the composition, Mr. Clarkson is so tedious and sometimes so dull, that we have considerable doubt whether many persons will have the patience to follow him to the conclusion. He appears, indeed, himself to have take suel delight in the work, as to have neglected the means of making it agreeable to others.
William Penn, the eldest son of Admiral Sir William Penn, of the ancient family of the Penns of Buckinghamshire and Gloucestershire, and of Margaret Jasper, daughter of a Dutch merchant, was born in London, October 14th, 1644. While at Chigwell School, being about eleven years of age, it is said, he felt religious emotions of an unusual nature, having the strongest convictions of the Divine existence, and of the capacity of man to hold intercourse with him. As he made great proficiency in his studies, he was entered at the age of fifteen, a gentleman commoner of Christ's Church, Oxford. He attended as well to the exercises of the college as to recreation, which consisted in manly sports and the society of young men of genius, among whom were Robert Spencer, afterwards Earl of Sunderland, and John Locke. Meanwhile the religious impressions which he had received at school were greatly confirmed by the preaching of Thomas Loe, a Quaker. Incapable of disguising his principles, he began with some others to withdraw from the established worship, which the heads of the college
thought fit to punish by fine. Upon an order from Charles the Second that the students should wear the surplice, the zeal of Penn broke all bounds of decorum. With some other young gentlemen, he fell upon the students who appeared in surplices, and tore them over their heads. For this outrage he was expelled the college; after which, returning home, he was received very coldly by his father, who was mortified both on account of his son's disgrace, and of the disappointment of those prospects of greatness that he had formed for him: and, finding argu ments and blows unavailing, he at last turned him out of doors.
The Admiral, however, recovering his usual affection, and overcome by the importunity of his wife, forgave his son; but to prevent future evil, he sent him to France, expecting that new scenes would make him forget his old connections, and the gaiety of French manners correct his gravity. Being attacked one evening while at Paris, by a person who thought himself affronted, Penn discovered his courage in disarming, and his forbearance in sparing, the assailant. Some months of his absence in France he spent at Saumur, availing himself of the instruction of the famous Amyrault. While on his way to Italy, he was recalled by his father, who, being appointed to command the fleet against the Dutch, wished him to take care of his family in his absence. The admiral seems to have been satisfied with the improvement of his son during his travels; for he had acquired a lively and polished air in his manners, which he considered as indicating a change in his mind. But he no sooner returned from sea than he discovered his mistake. The flame was smothered, not extinguished. More attached than ever to the principles and habits of the Quakers, he threw his father into fresh perplexities, who now resolved to send him into Ireland, that in the society of his friends at the Duke of Ormond's court, his mind, might, if possible, acquire a new bias. This scheme being ineffectual, he determined at last to intrust him with the management of large estates lying in the county of Cork, that he might be at a distance from his English connexions, and find full employment for his time. But it was the fate of the admiral's projects for the recovery of his son to be always frustrated. Being accidentally at Cork, Penn heard from Thomas Loe, the person whose preaching had made such an impression on his mind while at college, a discourse which completed his conversion to the doctrines and practice of the Quakers. Those, however, were not the times in which it was safe to profess theological novelties. While at a religious meeting he was seized, with eighteen others, and refusing to give a bond for his good behaviour, he was sent. to prison. As it was not the nature of Penn to suffer, without publishing his grievances, he addressed himself in a spirited
style to the Earl of Orrery, who immediately ordered his release.
Soon after this event an interview took place between the admiral and his son. Despairing of altering his general views, Sir William only proposed that he should sit without his hat in his own presence, that of the King and the Duke of York. Finding him determined not to comply even in this trifle, he again turned him out of doors. Apologetical explanations of the opposition of Penn and his friends to the apparently innocent fashions of the world, introduced in this and another place, (pp. 27, 92,) by Mr. Clarkson, deserve a little consideration. They imagined themselves, he says, chosen from the world to bear a testimony against its corrupt and corrupting customs: the appointed instruments of purifying the world, they thought it incumbent on them to abandon all its ceremonies civil and religious. This persuasion, that they had a supernatural commission to reform mankind, may be sufficient to explain the puerilities and extravagance of the early Quakers; but it is by no means sufficient to justify them. Had it been well founded, instead of being enthusiastic, it would not have excused that want of respect, that arrogance, that they discovered towards persons in stations of honour and authority. For they did not pretend to have a particular revelation as to the dereliction of those customs which involved not any moral turpitude. In trampling on the decent forms of civilized life, they seem to have been actuated by a blind opposition to whatever was established, rather than a nice sense of the shades of good and evil, virtue and vice. They adopted in moral matters the principles of the ancient Germans in regard to war, and deemed themselves secure in proportion to the interval between them and their enemies. The founders of christianity had evidently a supernatural commission to reform their fellows; but while they abandoned all those customs and ceremonies that were morally evil, they never dreamt of forsaking those that were innocent, for the purpose of raising a barrier against the contagion. They became all things to all men, paying honour where it was due, and complying with custom where it was harmless. The persuasion of the Quakers that they were peculiarly appointed to purify the world was, after all, a groundless imagination; and, so far from justifying a deviation from harmless customs, deserved itself to be censured. It was an unwarrantable presumption on which any absurdity or extravagance might be grafted. He, who under the influence of such a notion, brings inconveniences upon himself, is to be pitied rather than commended.
Penn, thus cast out by his father, supported his mind by confidence in the care of Providence. His wants were supplied by
his mother and other friends. In 1668, being in the twentyfourth year of his age, he commenced preacher and author; but in which of these capacities he was the most diligent it is difficult to say. He seems to have preached enough to employ the whole of his time, and to have been so engaged in writing as to have no time to preach. In the course of fifteen years he published about fifty works, some of them rather bulky, and discovering various and extensive reading. It will be sufficient to notice the more remarkable of them as we proceed with his life. As he was now engaged with the Quakers, he seized every opportunity of propagating and vindicating their doctrines, by preaching, writing, and disputation. A book called "A Guide to true Religion" appearing, with severe animadversions upon the Quakers, he replied in "The Guide Mistaken." He engaged in a public disputation with Vincent, a Presbyterian, in which not meeting with good treatment, he appealed to the world in "The Sandy Foundation shaken." In consequence of some notions different from the doctrines at that time prevalent relative to the Trinity, contained in this work, offensive to persons in authority, he had the misfortune to be imprisoned in the Tower. It being told him that the Bishop of London had resolved that he should either publicly recant, or die in prison,' he replied with great firmness, that the man who would reap and not labour, must faint with the wind and perish in disap pointments; and that his prison should be his grave before hø would renounce his just opinions.' During his confinement, as he thought it criminal to be idle, he composed his "No Cross, No Crown;" a work which may still be read with pleasure and edification. After seven months severe confinement, he was released by an order from the King, obtained at the intercession of the Duke of York. The admiral now began to relent. Convinced of his integrity he allowed him to return home, though he did not admit him to his presence. He signified to him by his mother, that he might proceed to Ireland to execute a commission for him. In the intervals of business he preached, wrote tracts to confirm those who had been lately converted to his principles, and visited those who were in prison on account of their religion. On his return to England a reconciliation took place between his father and him."
In consequence of the Conventicle Act passed 1670, he was seized in the act of preaching, and committed to Newgate. On his trial, which came on at the Old Bailey, September 3, we have a remarkable example of his self possession and magnanimity, on the one hand, and on the other, of the injustice, bigotry, and violence of the magistrates. The circumstances of the trial carefully recorded by Mr. Clarkson, while they illustrate the unhappiness of that age, form a striking contrast to the