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In the cases of very short lines, for the reasons we have already explained, the cost per mile is much greater. Thus the Manchester and Bolton line, which measures only ten miles, cost at the rate of £84,272 per mile, and the London and Blackwall, which measures only four miles, and passes through a thickly peopled district, cost at the enormous rate of £269,690, or above a quarter of a million sterling per mile!

Although certain items of expenditure, such as parliamentary expenses, be much greater in England than in other parts of Europe, yet on the whole the cost of railways does not seem to be considerably less elsewhere. The cost of the line between Paris and Orleans, which is now in full operation,) has been £2,082,916, and as the length of the line is 82 miles, the cost per mile is £25,400. The cost per mile of the line between Paris and Rouen has been £29,419. The great northern railway, extending from Paris to the Belgian frontier, (which has just been put in operation,) has been eight millions sterling. Its length is about 182 miles, and its cost per mile must therefore be about £44,000. These figures will convey to our readers some general idea of the scale of expenditure on which these great arteries of European commerce and intercommunication are constructed, and will show how little analogy they can be truly said to have with similar lines carried through a new country such as ours.

The magnitude of the capital thus invested would naturally raise doubts whether any amount of traffic which could be expected would render these vast enterprises profitable. The commercial advantages, however, which have resulted from most of those which have been brought into actual operation, have been so great that an incredible extent of railway has within the last two years been projected, not only in England, but in every country of Europe, in the West Indies, and in India.

This is the natural consequence of the high profits obtained on most of the capital already invested. It is true, that in some instances the dividends are low, and the shareholders are losers; but new projectors flatter themselves that such losses proceed from want of judgment in the speculators, and retain undiminished confidence in the probable results of the enterprises which each has taken into his favor.

That a large mileage of capital does not necessarily infer an unprofitable enterprise, we have abundant proofs. The Liverpool and Manchester line, of 31 miles, which cost above a million and three quarters, sterling, divides ten per cent. per annum among its shareholders. The London and Birmingham line, which cost forty two thousand pounds per mile, makes a like dividend; and the original shares of these companies are now sold at 128 per cent. premium. The York, and North Midland line, of equal length with the Liverpool and Manchester, cost nearly the same amount of capital, and produces the same dividends.

We have now before us the returns of forty railways in actual operation in Europe. Of these, six pay ten per cent. per annum on the subscribed capital, eight pay seven per cent. and upwards, sixteen pay five per cent. and upwards, and the remaining ten pay from two to five per cent.

The extent of railway in actual operation in England, is two thousand miles, the construction of which has cost seventy millions of pounds sterling, being at the average rate of thirty-five thousand pounds per mile. On this seventy millions of capital, the dividends annually paid amount to about four millions, which, one with another, give an average dividend of five and seven-tenths per cent. on the capital invested.

These results are given in round numbers, without affecting to aim at the last degree of numerical accuracy; but they are sufficiently exact for the present purpose, and put the matter in a clearer and more striking point of view than would be effected by the complexity of the most exact numbers.

The railways which are projected, and for which the Legislative sanction has been actually, or will probably be, obtained in England, independently of those now in operation, involve a further investment of capital, amounting, in round numbers, to a hundred millions of pounds sterling; which, supposing the cost of the lines per mile to be equal, on an average, to those already constructed, would represent about three thousand miles of railway, but, as it is contended that the cost of construction and other expenses are and will be reduced, we may perhaps take this capital to represent three thousand five hundred miles; which, with the length of the lines already open, will make a total of about five

thousand five hundred miles of railway in the Island, costing a hundred and seventy millions of pounds sterling; and in order to pay the same average dividends as those which are paid on the present lines, there will require to be a gross annual dividend of little less than ten millions of pounds sterling.

But in order to obtain a net profit annually of this enormous amount, what must be the gross receipts, or, in other words, the gross amount paid by the public for transport? We shall obtain the means of this with some degree of accuracy, by taking the gross annual receipts of

the railways, and comparing them with dividends.

We find that the annual gross receipts of the roads now in operation are about six millions, of which four millions are net profits or dividends. To produce dividends of ten millions, therefore, the gross receipts must be fifteen millions. To make the system of railways projected in England, and about to be executed, pay, therefore, so as to give average dividends of five and seven-tenths per cent. on the capital invested, the public must pay, annually, fifteen millions of pounds sterling for transport.

LONGFELLOW'S POETS AND POETRY OF EUROPE.

WE have an old Greek saying, to the effect that "a great book is a great mischief;" an adage which, like most other adages, is sometimes true, often false, and oftenest appealed to when it is false. It would not be strange, therefore, if some critic should be found, ill-natured and unscrupulous enough to apply it to the large and beautifully printed volume before us. Even we, with all our respect for the book, rich as we deem it to be in the most various materials for instruction and amusement, if compelled to read it in regular course, from end to end, should, in all probability, be tempted to make the application ourselves. It is, indeed, not a little questionable, whether any reader will arise, gifted with the dogged patience, the Herculean perseverance, necessary for so vast an undertaking. The nature of the work allows little continuity of thought or interest. It is a collection of short pieces, loosely strung together, like the articles of a dictionary, or the dates of a chronological table. Hence that propensity to skip, which spoils the connected reading of so many productions more connected than the present, besets us here with irresistible importunity. Under such circumstances, the reader should make a virtue of necessity, and yield with a good grace to the temptation which he cannot overcome. If he would draw from the book a maximum of pleasure, he should give himself up to the guidance of fancy or caprice; move backward or forward, as chance may direct;

He

turn leaf after leaf in one place without stopping for more than a hasty glance; and pause at another, attracted by an illustrious name, a piquant heading, or a whimsical combination of metres. is not to regard himself as in a hostile territory, and so take it for his rule to leave behind him nothing which he has not mastered. It is, in fact, a book to be read in, not read through. From the vast variety which it presents, of matter and of style, it is for each one to select that which appears most congenial to his tastes and habits. From the crowd of distinguished personages to whom he is introduced, let him choose his own society. He may rest sure of finding associates enough, and such associates as he will not need to blush for. He is allowed to hold converse with the great and wise; with those who have spoken most eloquently and most truly to the hearts of men; those who have swayed the minds of their contemporaries, and impressed their influence upon posterity; who are to live through all coming time, as the guides, instructors, and benefactors of mankind. There is something ennobling in the communion we are thus permitted to enjoy with the master-minds of modern Europe. Though, in the disguise of a translation, we may understand but imperfectly the language which they speak, it cannot be unprofitable for us to read their names, to dwell upon their memories, to recognize and revere their merits.

Mr. Longfellow has stated in his pre

face, briefly and modestly, the object which he has had in view, and the course which he has taken in the preparation of the work:

"I have attempted only to bring together into a compact and convenient form, as large an amount as possible of those English translations, which are scattered through many volumes, and are not easily accessible to the general reader. In doing this, it has been thought advisable to treat the subject historically, rather than critically. The materials have, in consequence, been arranged according to their dates; and in order to render the literary history of the various countries as complete as these materials, and the limits of a single volume would allow, an author of no great note has sometimes been admitted, or a poem which a severer taste would have excluded. The work is to be regarded as a collection, rather than a selection; and in judging any author, it must be borne in mind that translations do not always preserve the rhythm and melody of the original, but often resemble soldiers moving on when the music has ceased and the time is marked only by the tap of the drum.

"The languages from which translations are here presented are ten. They are the six Gothic languages of the North of Europe-Anglo-Saxon, Icelandic, Danish, Swedish, German and Dutch; and the four Latin languages of the South of Europe French, Italian, Spanish and Portuguese. In order to make the work fulfill entirely the promise of its title, the Celtic and Sclavonic, as likewise the Turkish and Romaic, should have been introduced; but with these I am not acquainted, and I therefore leave them to some other hands, hoping that, ere long, a volume may be added to this which shall embrace all the remaining European tongues."

Throughout the volume are scattered literary notices, which add much to its size, and still more to its value. The translations made from each of the languages embraced in the work, are introduced by a brief historical survey of the poetical literature belonging to that language. We have also a particular account of the life and writings of each poet prefixed to the specimens of his poetry. For most of these biographical sketches the editor professes himself indebted to Mr. C. C. Felton. It is hardly necessary for us to say of them, what all would infer from the name of their author, that they are admirably executed. A large amount of literary history and criticism is thus presented to the reader. He has the means furnished to his hand for tracing the origin and progress of 33

VOL. IV.-NO. V.

poetry among the nations of modern Europe, and forming a critical estimate of the most eminent poets. For such as may wish to examine more minutely any portion of the ground surveyed in these sketches, copious references are given to the best special treatises both in English and in foreign languages.

Mr. Longfellow has omitted in the body of the work all mention of the translators lish dress. Probably he thought it suffito whom we owe the pieces in their Engcient to give their names in the table of contents; and he may have been influenced by an unwillingness, natural enough in a modest man, to bring his own name repeatedly before the notice of the reader. Yet it is clumsy and irksome, especially in so bulky a volume, to be continually turning to the index for that which might equally well be given us from page to page, for that which we always wish to know, or ought to wish it, if we do not. The inconvenience, though trifling in each case, becomes burdensome by constant repetition. It can never be a matter of indifference to the reader by whom the version before him was executed. Two elements enter into every translation: the author and the translator. If you would understand aright the nature of the compound, you must take into account both these elements. But the translator is in general the more important of the two. It is his influence which predominates. The compound takes its character chiefly from him. Thus, Hoole's Ariosto is nearer to Hoole than to Ariosto. So, in Pope's Homer, the Greek is nothing-the Englishman everything. The reader should never forget that if there are some versions which reflect the original, there are more which reflect the translator. He should beware how he makes up his judgment of the former without knowing the name and qualifica

tions of the latter.

The editor of this work, speaking of "the authors upon whom he has chiefly relied, and to whom he is indebted for the largest number of translations," names first the veteran Bowring. This indefatigable writer has studied the poetry of many different nations, with the view of introducing it by select specimens to the acquaintance of his countrymen. For this purpose he has mastered not only the Teutonic and Romance languages, but also the Sclavonic dialects, and even the difficult idiom of the Magyars. He has published Russian, Polish, Servian

and Hungarian Anthologies, which, of course, furnish nothing to this volume, but would be exceedingly useful in preparing a supplementary work such as Mr. Longfellow has suggested. It is by his translations from the literature of Holland and of Spain that he comes before us here. But for him, indeed, Dutch poetry would make a sorry show. Twothirds of the pieces which appear under this head, are taken from his Anthology. He has made it the labor of his life to botanize for the flowers of poetry in places where no one else had ever thought of finding them; and, upon this quest, chancing to visit the Netherlandish flats, was rewarded for his enterprise and industry by the discovery of new and unsuspected treasures. He translates in a fair workman-like manner, precisely as a man should who has made translation his business. He gives you the sense of his original with sufficient fidelity, in language not particularly felicitous, yet perfectly well chosen; sustaining himself always at a certain moderate elevation; without genius to rise very high; with too much taste to sink very low.

Under German poetry we meet with some excellent translations by the celebrated William Taylor of Norwich. His version of Bürger's Ellenore has the fire and spirit of an original performance: it must take one of the highest places in the ballad literature of our language. The same may be said of the Spanish ballads translated by Mr. Lockhart. They are not, like most translations, dried specimens of foreign song preserved in scientific collections: though exotics, they take firm root in our own soil, and flourish, green and vigorous, side by side with plants of indigenous growth. High praise should be awarded also to the Danish ballads as rendered by Jamieson; and to Weber's translations from the Heldenbuch and the Nibelungenlied, which represent with wonderful fidelity the form as well as the spirit of the rough old Teutonic originals.

The editor himself has repeated here the beautiful translations which he has published from time to time in periodicals, and inserted in the collections of his poems. He gives us also other translations of his own, which, as we have not seen them before, we presume to have been made with special reference to this work. There is an old proverb, which warns us "not to look a gifthorse in the mouth." It may seem un

gracious and ungrateful to complain of one who has given us much, because he has not given us more. Yet we cannot refrain from expressing the regret which all must feel, that the number of pieces contributed to the work by Mr. Longfellow is so small-so much smaller, certainly, than we could wish to have it. As a translator he has no reason to shrink from comparison with the ablest of those by whose labors he has profited. His versions are delicate, spirited and faithful in the highest degree. No one has succeeded better, scarcely any one so well, in solving that most difficult problem of translation, to reconcile idiomatic ease and grace with literal exactness. There is a curiosa felicitas in his phrase. ology. His words appear to us not simply as the best which could be used under the given requisitions of rhyme and metre, but as best in themselvesbetter suited than any other words to convey the meaning of the writer. It would seem as if he could discern by intuitive perception under every vocable and phrase of Swedish, German, Spanish, the most perfect English equivalent; and as if, by some happy accident, the expression which occurred to him were always in exact conformity with every metrical and rhythmical condition.

It is a charge, which has sometimes been brought against Mr. Longfellow, that he adheres with over-scrupulous exactness to the letter of his text; or at least that its principles would lead him to do so, and that only his delicacy and purity of taste preserve him from the prejudicial influence of his erroneous maxims. We are not disposed to deny that the majority of translators, should they attempt to act upon the rules which Mr. Longfellow seems to have laid down for himself, would be in danger of falling into an awkward, unintelligible styleneither English, nor Greek, nor German, nor anything else known among articulately speaking men: or, avoiding that, would exhibit a dexterous word-mongering scarcely less detestable, in which the form should be imitated, while the spirit was suffered to evaporate. That there is such a thing as being too literal, cannot be questioned. The mere mechanical substitution of word for word will by no means answer the ends of a translation. The words of different languages have seldom the equality of those mathematical figures which, on being applied to each other, coincide throughout their

whole extent. And even if the correspondence of single words be absolutely perfect, it will not follow, that the similar combinations formed from them are precisely equivalent. Such is the influence of usage, analogy, association, complex and variable causes, which it is difficult to measure, and impossible to predict, that an expression which in one language is elegant and dignified, may be rude or vulgar, may have a wholly different meaning or no meaning at all, when presented word for word in anoth

er.

Take now a poem, the Iliad, if you
will, or the Æneid. The principle of
literal translation, vigorously enforced,
would lead us into the clumsiest prose,
such as we find in Clarke's Latin Homer,
or the Interlinear Virgil of the Hamil-
tonian system. Allow us some relaxa-
tion; permit us to substitute for the
Latin or Greek expression some vernacu-
lar idion which shall represent its spirit
though departing from its letter; and we
may produce a version, still in prose,
but not wholly wanting either in ele-
gance or clearness. But suppose we
would give our version a metrical form;
we then subject ourselves to additional
difficulties, and are driven by sheer ne-
cessity to the use of greater license.
Here, too, the versifier, who from scru-
ples of conscience refuses to avail him-
self of any liberty not absolutely indis-
pensable to the construction of his
rhythms, will produce a work of the
same order with the Latin Iliad and the
Interlinear Æneid. So great a man as
do-
Milton amused himself once with "
ing into metre nine of the Psalms, where-
in all but what is in a different character
are the very words of the text, translated
from the original." Take a favorable
specimen:

"How lovely are thy dwellings fair!
O Lord of Hosts how dear
The pleasant tabernacles are,

Where thou dost dwell so near!
My soul doth long and almost die
Thy courts, O Lord, to see:
My heart and flesh aloud do cry,
O living God, for thee."

Hear now the passage as it stands in

our common version.

“How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth, for the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God."

Will any one say that the original is

better represented in the rhymes just
quoted, than in the following paraphrase?
"How pleasant, how divinely fair,
O Lord of Hosts, thy dwellings are!
With long desire my spirit faints
To meet the assemblies of thy saints.
My flesh could rest in thine abode,
My panting heart cries out for God."

or, as it stands in this more condensed
version:

"Lord of the worlds above,

How pleasant and how fair,
The dwellings of thy love,

Thine earthly temples are!
To thine abode my heart aspires
With warm desires to see my God."
From this example we may see what
must be the consequence of adopting the
rule countenanced by so many recent
authorities, that a metrical translator
should use no liberty beyond those which
metrical conditions imperatively demand.
An original-at least, any original worth
the labor of translating-has freedom,
ease, and grace. In a servile version,
these qualities are inevitably lost. But
if the impression of the original is to be
reproduced in the translation, the latter
must have the ease and freedom of the
former; and no translation can be con-
sidered as good, if it fail to represent
these characteristics of the original.

Yet on the other hand it cannot be denied, that liberal translations are generally worthless. In most instances, they are hastily and carelessly executed. There is a fatal facility about this mode of rendering, which is likely to prove a snare to the translator. It is such a simple matter to string together rhymes on the same theme with your author, availing yourself of his ideas, when your own happen to come short, or supplying the deficiency of sense by an easy flow of verse, that we cannot be surprised at the number of those who practise after this fashion. It is a method, undoubtedly, which has great advantages. It supersedes the necessity of extensive and exact philological attainments. It requires no insight into the genius and Without the toil spirit of an author. and trouble of real acquisition, it procures for the indolent or incapable the fame of great proficiency in languages, and prodigious acquaintance with foreign literature. It enables an aspiring dunce to put forth his own dullness and absurdity under the shelter of a distinguished name, to divert towards himself some part of

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