I took charge of the manuscript copy of David Shea’s version, which had been carried to page 201 of the printed Calcutta edition.[217] In this there were only a few omissions to be supplied, and no other rectifications to be made but those which a second review would have suggested to my learned predecessor himself; his notes, and those which I thought necessary to add, are marked each with the initials of our respective names. If I found little to change, I had much to imitate in David Shea’s translation――his faithfulness and clearness. By faithfulness I understand not only expressing truly the sense, but also keeping unaltered the words, figures, images, and phrases of the original, as it is in them that the author’s national and individual peculiarity is manifested. This sort of faithfulness may roughen or hamper the phrase, destroy the elegance of style, and even offend good taste, but by it alone we shall not only know, as I have just observed, the genius of the foreign writer, but also satisfy the exigencies of philology, which is one of the main purposes of translations not undertaken as mere exercises of improvable eloquence. An author will not employ more or other words than those he thinks necessary for being understood by readers of his own nation, religion, school; he writes, for instance, as a Muhammedan for Muhammedans, a Súfi for Súfis. But a translator must do his best for uniting faithfulness with clearness, the indispensable condition of any speech or writing; he must add what is required for illustrating the original text, and thus submit to a charge, now and then heavier than he can bear.