On the whole, there is nothing in this quotation to deter succeeding writers from attempting, at least, to supply the deficiencies of Dryden and his fellow-laborers; and, perhaps, I could point out several circumstances which might make it laudable, if not necessary: but this would be to trifle with the reader, who is already apprised that, as far as relates to myself, no motives but those of obedience determined me to the task for which I now solicit the indulgence of the public. When I took up this author, I knew not of any other translator; nor was it until the scheme of publishing him was started, that I began to reflect seriously on the nature of what I had undertaken, to consider by what exertions I could render that useful which was originally meant to amuse, and justify, in some measure, the partiality of my benefactors. My first object was to become as familiar as possible with my author, of whom I collected every edition that my own interest, or that of my friends, could procure; together with such translations as I could discover either here or abroad; from a careful examination of all these, I formed the plan, to which, while I adapted my former labors, I anxiously strove to accommodate my succeeding ones. Dryden has said, "if we give not the whole, yet we give the most considerable part of it." My determination was to give the whole, and really make the work what it professed to be, a translation of Juvenal. I had seen enough of castrated editions, to observe that little was gained by them on the score of propriety; since, when the author was reduced to half his bulk, at the expense of his spirit and design, sufficient remained to alarm the delicacy for which the sacrifice had been made. Chaucer observes with great naiveté, "Whoso shall tell a tale after a man, He moste reherse as neighe as ever he can Everich word, if it be in his charge, All speke he never so rudely and so large." And indeed the age of Chaucer, like that of Juvenal, allowed of such liberties. Other times, other manners. Many words were in common use with our ancestors, which raised no improper ideas, though they would not, and indeed could not, at this time be tolerated. With the Greeks and Romans it was still worse: their dress, which left many parts of the body exposed, gave a boldness to their language, which was not perhaps lessened by the infrequency of women at those social conversations, of which they now constitute the refinement and the delight. Add to this that their mythology, and sacred rites, which took their rise in very remote periods, abounded in the undisguised phrases of a rude and simple age, and being religiously handed down from generation to generation, gave a currency to many terms, which offered no violence to modesty, though abstractedly considered by people of a different language and manners, they appear pregnant with turpitude and guilt.