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1840.] prose translation, appears to see the matter in its true light, although we think he ought to have brought out the right meaning more explicitly in his text. This error consists in understanding the words "thy servants," in the last line but one, to apply to the angels of the Lord, instead of referring them to his thunder and lightnings, spoken of in the immediately preceding lines. Shelley, and all the translators, (except the two above mentioned,) so understand the passage. Yet what sense, what connexion of thought, can there be in saying "Yonder," that is, upon earth, "blasting lightnings are flaming before the path of the thunderbolt; yet we thy servants, O Lord! revere the placid going of thy day?" Why yet? Can any body doubt but that this is the sense of the passage: "Yonder, &c.; yet these," (that is, thunder and lightning,} "thy messengers, disarmed of their fury in thy presence, O Lord! revere the placid going of thy day?" Understood thus, the stanza becomes admirable; understood in the other way, it stands meaningless and incoherent. In the Bible, which Goethe was profoundly versed in, thunder and lightning are constantly alluded to as the "messengers of the Lord!"

Dr Anster enjoys, we believe, considerable reputation as a translator of "Faust." His translation is certainly very far indeed from being the worst before us: his blank verse, as we said before, is frequently excellent; and we have great respect for his general power. But we must now subject his version of this ode to the test of our criticism. It runs as follows:—

The grand characteristic of this ode in the original is, that each lineament in it is cut clean at one blow, and requires no second application of the chisel. Its style is most peremptory; and there is not one superfluous word in it: every syllable tells like a hammer; and every single stroke sends its nail home into the soul. In Dr Anster's translation, however, we observe a good deal of indecision, and an inability to hit the nail fair upon the head. For instance, in the repetition "observes—obeys," he makes two hits at the sun, endeavouring to describe what he is about; and in both cases, we are sorry to say, he entirely misses his aim. We are sure he must feel that in a composition like this, if once saying a thing won't settle its business, still less will it be settled by being said twice or a hundred times. The same observation applies to "new strength and full beatitude." The strength of the unfallen angels is