Where the text of Plutarch appeared to them erroneous, they have spared no pains, and neglected no means in their power to rectify it. Sensible that the great art of a translator is to prevent the peculiarities of his Author's language from stealing into his own, they have been particularly attentive to this point, and have generally endeavored to keep their English unmixed with Greek. At the same time it must be observed, that there is frequently a great simi larity in the structure of the two languages; yet that resemblance, in some instances, makes it the more necessary to guard against it on the whole. This care is of the greater consequence, because Plutarch's Lives generally pass through the hands of young people, who ought to read their own language in its native purity, unmixed and untainted with the idioms of different tongues. For their sakes too, as well as for the sake of readers of a different class, we have omitted some passages in the text, and have only signified the omission by asterisms. Some, perhaps, may censure us for taking too great a liberty with our Author in this circumstance: However, we must beg leave in that instance to abide by our own opinion; and sure we are, that we should have censured no translator for the same. Could everything of that kind have been omitted, we should have been still less dissatisfied; but sometimes the chain of the narrative would not admit of it, and the disagreeable parts were to be got over with as much decency as possible. In the descriptions of battles, camps and sieges, it is more than probable that we may sometimes be mistaken in the military terms. We have endeavored, however, to be as accurate in this respect as possible, and to acquaint ourselves with this kind of knowledge as well as our situations would permit; but we will not promise the reader that we have always succeeded. Where something seemed to have fallen out of the text, or where the ellipsis was too violent for the forms of our language, we have not scrupled to maintain the tenor of the narrative, or the chain of reason, by such little insertions as appeared to be necessary for the purpose. These short insertions were at first put between hooks; but as that deformed the page, without answering any material purpose, we soon rejected it.
