Nor has the translator failed to preserve this attractive feature of the original; for though, as hath been already observed, he often sinks beneath the grace and finish of his author in the more subdued and preceptive parts of the undertaking, yet he ever rises with him where the subject demands a more vigorous wing, and not seldom, indeed, has he surpassed him on such occasions, in the strength and elevation of his flight. It is worthy also of remark, that, as in these more striking parts of the original, where beauty happens to be the leading charm, the translator has exhibited a polish which rivals that of his author, we must ascribe to indolence, and not to want of power, his failure in so essential an article, where, perhaps, it is most required, the humbler, and less ornamented portion of the poem.

As a specimen of the harmony of diction, and grace of expression, with which our translator can embellish a favourite topic of this kind, his version of the passage just alluded to, on flowering shrubs, may be appositely quoted.

Venez peuple enchanteur!

Vous êtes la nuance entre l'arbre et la fleur;
De vos traits délicats venez orner la scène.
Oh ! que si moins pressé du sujet qui m'entraîne,
Vers le but qui m'attend je ne hâtois mes pas,
Que j'aurois de plaisir à diriger vos bras!
Je vous reproduirois sous cent formes fécondes ;
Ma main sous vos berceaux feroit rouler les ondes ;
En dômes, en lambris j'unirois vos rameaux;
Mollement enlacés autour de ces ormeaux,

Vos bras serpenteroient sur leur robuste écorce,
Emblême ds la grâce unie avec la force. —
Pour vous, à qui le ciel prodigua leur richesse,
Ménagez avec art leur pompe enchanteresse:
Partagez aux saisons leurs brillantes faveurs ;
Que chacun apportant ses parfums, ses couleurs,
Reparoisse à son tour, et qu'au front de l'année,
Sa guirlande de fleurs ne soit jamais fanée.
Ainsi votre jardin varie avec le tems;

Tout mois a ses bosquets, tout bosquet son printems.
Chant 2.

Ye gentle shades between the trees and flowers, With you, ye laughing race, I'll deck my bowers. O that my theme would grant the fond delay, Nor with too urgent haste forbid my stay!

With what delight my hands each spray should

guide,

And teach your curling tendrils where to glide! In woven bowers, and roofs, your shoots should grow,

And 'neath your network arch the riv'let flow;
Around yon elm your wedded arms should wind,
Emblem of strength, with gentlest beauty join'd, -
You then to whom their lovely pomp is giv'n,
Display with art these charming gifts of Heav'n ;
Let ev'ry season have their brilliant bloom,
Their laughing colours, and their rich perfume;
Let each in turn the well-wrought chaplet wear,
Thus ne'er shall fade the garland of the year;
But new-born joys shall every season bring,
Each month a bower, and ev'ry bower a spring.

The bard then proceeds to show how this glowing scene may be realized, even during the most rigorous season, by the creation of what has been termed a winter-garden, where the yew and the fir, the ivy, the holly, and the laurel, and many other trees and plants of a like hardy constitution, may be so tastefully cultivated and arranged, that nature shall call the work her own, although, by their assem

blage, the severity of one portion of the year seems banished from the eye. land of this kind, he tells us,

A perfect fairyexisted at Mon

ceaux, the winter-garden of the Duc d'Orleans, where, in the language of our anonymous version,

Enchanted grottoes rise, and magic bowers;
There braves the rose the chilling waste of snow,
And 'mid the icy horrors learns to blow.
Seasons and climes to power superior yield,
And spring eternal decks the fairy field.

Yet whatever may be the beauty of the landscape, or the garden, which has been called into existence; however taste and art may have united to render them the very impress of nature in her loveliest garb, unless sentiment and affection be associated with the scenery, all will soon cease to charm, through the mere influence of habit; and whilst the stranger views the creation with delight, to the accustomed eye of the proprietor it has forgotten to suggest what may touch the heart, or fix his fond regard.

To prevent this apathy and sense of satiety,

the French poet very judiciously places before us the example of the Laplanders, asking, as he introduces the subject,

N'est-il pas des moyens dont le charme secret
Vous rende leur beauté tourjours plus attachante ?
Oh! combien des Lapons l'usage heureux m'en-

chante !

Qu'ils savent bien tromper leurs hivers rigoureux !
Nos superbes tilleuls, nos ormeaux vigoureux !
De ces champs ennemis redoutent la froidure:
De quelques noirs sapins l'indigente verdure
Par intervalle à peine y perce les frimats!
Mais le moindre arbrisseau qu'épargent ces climats
Par des charmes plus doux à leurs regards soit
plaire ;

Planté pour un ami, pour un fils, pour un père,
Pour un hôte qui part emportant leur regrets,
Il en reçoit le nom, le nom cher à jamais.

Chant. ii.

Are there no charms whose secret springs might

move?

No lasting tie to wake their master's love?

Behold, how Lapland's wiser offspring cheer The dreary horrors of their wintry year!