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No. XVI.

Here shall Contemplation imp

Her eagle plumes; the Poet here shall hold
Sweet converse with his Muse; the curious Sage,
Who comments on great Nature's ample tome,
Shall find that volume here. For here are caves,
Where rise those gurgling rills, that sing the song
Which Contemplation loves; here shadowy glades,
Where thro' the tremulous foliage darts the ray
That gilds the Poet's day-dream: Nor if here
The Painter comes, shall his enchanting art
Go back without a boon for Fancy here,
With Nature's living colours, forms a scene
Which RUISDALE best might rival.

MASON.

THE distribution and contrast of the various scenes, gay or sombre, soothing or romantic, touching or sublime, which the art of picturesque gardening is adequate to the task of creating, and which we have seen as it were start into being during the preceding parts of the poem, now fix the attention of the reader, and con

stitute, in fact, the leading topics of the fourth and last book.

From such an intimation, much of what is highly beautiful and interesting, much of what is calculated to please the imagination and attach the heart, will naturally be expected; nor will any disappointment ensue from indulging these anticipations; for the work rises in poetic power as it advances, and I am happy, also, to add, that in the bolder and best sustained flights of his author, the translator follows with a vigorous and an equal wing.

Proud, and justly so, of the truly felicitous nature of his theme, the French bard opens this portion of his labours by asking who will venture to despise the subject of his song, and he then, in a triumphant tone, exclaims

Il inspiroit Virgile, il séduisoit Homère:

Which gentle Virgil blush'd not to rehearse, Which stole a place in mighty Homer's verse! *

Alluding to "the Eclogues and Georgics of Virgil, and the description of the shield of Achilles by Homer, where the sieges and battles are happily contrasted by the vintage, the harvest, and the pastoral scenes of peace."-Translator's Note.

and he very shortly afterwards apostrophises the poet of Greece in the following emphatic

manner:

Chantre divin, je laisse à tes muses altières
Le soin de diriger ces phalanges guerrières;
Diriger les jardins est mon paisible emploi,
Déja le sol docile a reconnu ma loi,

Des gazons l'ont couvert, et de sa main vermeille
Flore sur leur tapis a versé sa corbeille,

Des bois ont couronné les rochers et les eaux.

Divine Enthusiast! be it thine to form

Chant 4.

The phalanx deep, and guide the battle's storm. 'Tis mine the garden's peaceful pomp to sway, And bid the docile soil my voice obey :

The turf spreads smooth, and Flora's rosy hand Shakes her wild blossoms o'er the laughing land, Whilst rocks and waves are crown'd with nodding shade.

After this graceful exordium, the best mode of displaying the embellished scenery, through paths and walks which, from their careless and undulating play, appear to be of Nature's own formation, is the topic next touched upon, and

becomes introductory to a description of the various landscapes to which, like episodes in a well-constructed poem, these desultory windings lead; and which should, like the bardic pictures just alluded to, be so wrought up and finished as to call forth in succession the most pleasing and contrasted emotions of the mind. A few sketches of this kind, which will place the merits of the translator in a very conspicuous light, shall now be brought forward. De Lille is pointing out the diversified views which should attract and gratify the wanderer's eye, as he steals along the sinuous path, or lies reclined beneath the sheltering tree. Here should be seen, he tells us, a gloomy cell, the abode of Silence and of Solitude; there a lovely lake should expand its bosom to the gale, and, beyond, the distant landscape should melt into the horizon, whilst

Quelquefois un bosquet riant, mais recueilli,
Par la nature et vous richement embelli,

Plein d'ombres et de fleurs, et d'un luxe champêtre, Semble dire: "Arretez! où pouvez-vous mieux être ?"

Soudain la scène change; au lieu de la gaieté,
C'est la mélancolie et la tranquillité;

C'est le calme imposant des lieux où sont nourries
La méditation, les longues rêveries.

Là, l'homme avec son cœur revient s'entretenir,
Médite le présent, plonge dans l'avenir,

Songe aux biens, songe aux maux épars dans sa carrière ;

Quelquefois, rejetant ses regards en arrière, Se plaît à distinguer dans le cercle des jours Ce peu d'instans, hélas! et si chers et si courts, Ces fleurs dans un désert, ces tems où le ramène Le regret du bonheur, et même de la peine.

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Chant 4.

In rendering the first two couplets of this passage, the translator has deviated considerably, and with the happiest effect, from his original. "The question Où pouvez-vous mieux être ?' he observes in a note, "had so much of the air of a petit-maître's impertinence in it, that it seemed utterly inconsistent with the character of the grove. Though this scene invites us to pleasure, it is to that of a higher cast thán what the original seems to give us an idea of; it is to a pleasure which a refined soul, and

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