is peculiarly applicable, yet we have feen feveral English pieces of great merit, in the fame way. The ingenious Tranflator of the poem before us has fucceeded, perhaps, better than any other Writer. His diction is fo light, fo ambling, and fo eafy; and he appears to be himfelf, all the while, fo perfectly degagé; that a ftranger to the idioms of our tongue, might be apt to take him for a Frenchman in good earnest. Our Readers may remember we took the liberty, in fome former Reviews, to cenfure this gentleman, though with a very good intent, for certain airs he was pleafed to affect, in the character of Ariftippus. In this work he has given us no reason for saying any thing on this head; fo that we muft ingenuously confefs ourfelves to have read this tranflation with pleasure; and we doubt not but there are many others, who, with us, might be juftly offended at the affected egotifm of the poet, and yet may nevertheless willingly attend to his poetical tale of a Parrot.

This humorous ftory of Ver-Vert, if ftript of the ornaments of poetry, and their attendant circumambages, might be comprized in a few words; but as our Readers will probably require fome fpecimen of the execution as well as the plan, we fhall endeavour to give them a fatisfactory idea of both.

Ver-Vert was a Parrot, prefented by an Indian missionary to a convent of nuns, at Nevers, while

He yet was young and innocent,
And nothing worldly understood.
Beauteous he was, and debonnair,
Light, fpruce, inconftant, gay, and free,
And unreferv'd, as youngsters are,
Ere age brings on hypocrify.

In fhort a bird, from prattling merit,
Worthy a convent to inherit.

He was here much careffed and admired by the holy fifterhood, who, one and all, took great pleafure in giving him nuts, bifcuits, and good inftructions; which, we find, were not thrown away upon him, for we are told that he foon acquired

The gift of copious eloquence;

For, fave his meals and hours of rest,
His tongue was always occupied :
And no good treatife could excell,
In phrates ready cut and dried,
His doctrines about living well.
He was not like thofe parrots rude
Whom dangling in a public cage

In Capt. Berkenhout's tranflation of Count Tellin's Letters, the fable of the Sun and the Wind is an ingenious instance.

The

The common manners of the age,
Have render'd converfably lewd;
Who, doctor'd by the worldly tribe,
With frail concupifcence endued,
Each human vanity defèribe.
Our Ver-Vert was a faint in grain,
A foul with innocency fraught,
Who never utter'd word prophane,
Who never had immodeft thought.
But in the room of ribbald wit
Each myftic colloquy he knew,
And many a text in holy writ
With prayers and collects not a few;
Could pfalms and canticles repeat
And Benedicite compleat;

He could petition heav'n for grace
With fanctimonious voice and eyes,
And at a proper time and place

Religioufly foliloquize.

It is no wonder fuch extraordinary talents fhould render our hero famous.

Such merit could not be confin'd

Within a cloifter's narrow bound,
But flew, for fame is fwift as wind,

The neighb'ring territories round;

Through Nevers' town, from morn to night,

Scarce any other talk was heard,

But of difcourfes exquifite

Betwixt the nuns and Indian bird:

Now fo it happened, that as the circle of his fame was extended, the nuns of the Vifitation at Nants became poffeffed of an ardent defire to fee him; and therefore,

Immediately upon the spot,

To the good Abbefs of the place
A female fecretary wrote,
Befeeching her to have the grace
To Nants, by water, down the Loire,
To fend the bird, to fam'd for fenfe,
That all the female Nantine chcir
Might hear and fee his excellence.

In confequence of this letter, though with much reluctance on the part of the good nuns of Nevers, Father Ver-Vert was difpatched to Nants. But alas! how fadly were his principles and converfation debauched by the way!

In the fame paffage-boat that bore
This bird of holinefs from shore,

There

There happened the fame time to fail
Two nymphs of constitution frail,
A nurfe loquacious, two Gafcoons,
A vagrant monk, and three dragoons,
Which, for a youth of piety,

Was worshipful fociety!

By thefe companions harmless Ver-Vert was foon rallied out of the moral faws, and pious dialect, of the convent, and began to pour ungrateful curfes

Against the nuns, his former nurfes,

Who never had adorn'd his mind,
Careless of literary merit,

With language copicus and refin'd,
Replete with elegance and fpirit.
T' acquire this great accomplishment
Each earnest faculty he bent.
-He learnt by heart the alphabet
Of watermen, the Loire along,
And when, in any formy fit,
An oath efcap'd a failor's tongue,
Ver-Vert, emphatically plain,
Re-echo'd damn you back again :
On this, applauded by the crew,
Proudly content with what had pafs'd,
Sollicitous he daily grew,

The fhameful honour to purfue
Of pleafing their corrupted tafte>
And, foon degrading to their bent
His gen'rous organ of difcourfe,
Became prophanely eloquent.

At his arrival at Nants, our apoftate was convey'd to the convent; and, if his female fellow-travellers were highly diverted at his firft faluting them with, God fave you, holy fifters, the pious nuns of the vifitation were no less fhocked and confounded, when, in return to their ufual compliment,

Contemptuously his tail he fhook,
And not maturely having weigh'd
The horror of the words he said,
Reply'd, in military phrafe,

What damn'd fools nuns are now-a-days!

Could their aftonishment alfo have admitted of increafe, there was certainly provoking occafion, when, in anfwer to their moft earnest remonftrances, to curb the infolence of this feathered grenadier,

Here futler like he cry'd aloud,
The Devil feize this noify croud.

And

And with unvented choler fwelling,
He thunder'd out each horrid word,
The very tars in noife excelling,
Which on the river he had heard;
Curfing and fwearing all along,
Invoking ev'ry pow'r of Hell,
Whilft Bs redundant from his tongue,
And Fs emphatically fell.

The fenfe of what they heard him fpeak
The younger fifters could not tell,
For they believ'd his language Greek.
Next he came out with blood, and zounds,
Damnation, brimftone,-fie and thunder!

Strange language this for their reputedly-pious brother of Nevers! Such a profligate, we may be fure, was not harboured long under the confecrated roof of our holy fifters at Nants. He was, indeed, fent back again in difgrace; and as we have no reason to fuppofe he met with better company in the boat than before, he returned home a moft abandoned debofhee, and invincible heretic. The grief of the good nuns at Nevers, at this shocking apoftafy of their favourite bird, may be eafily gueffed at. They could not, however, do less than enjoin him to undergo fevere penance for his manifold tranfgreffions. He was therefore laid faft by the heels, and confined to a fpare diet, during his imprisonment. This regimen and hard treatment reduced him at length to better manners; when he was released on his parole, and promises of future good behaviour. But returning, with great avidity, to his hoard of nuts and sweetmeats, he indulged himself with fo little difcretion, that a fever fupervened on his immoderate gluttony; and alas! poor Ver-Vert died. The poet has written his epitaph, and the moral of the fable is this:

The youth too foon who goes abroad,
Will half a foreigner become,

And bring his wond'ring friends a load
Of ftrange exotic vices home.

For fuch our Author's obfervation,

That, by much wandering up and down,
Men catch the faults of ev'ry nation,
And lose the virtues of their own.

Letters

Q3

Letters from an Old Man to a Young Prince; with the Anfwers.
Tranflated from the Swedish. Volume the Third.
Griffiths.

A

12mo. 3 S.

FTER the account already given, in a former Review,

of the two first volumes of Count Teffin's Letters, and the general approbation with which they have been received by the public, it would be fuperfluous to trouble our Readers with any further encomiums on the merit of these celebrated epifiles. As to the volume before us, it may be fufficient to obferve, that the fame fpirit, modefty, and good fenfe, which diftinguished the two preceeding ones, breathe through the whole of this, and make it as valuable a prefent to the public, as the original letters were efteemed to be by the royal youth for whom they were more immediately intended. In his tenth letter, the worthy Count gives the following little history of the publication of this correfpondence.

In the year 1751,' fays he, were publifhed, contrary to my expectation, about twenty-five of my letters to your Royal Highness. For my own part, I think they were too trifling for public infpection; but they were printed by the Queen's command, who, from her gracious partiality for the author, thought better of them than they deferved.

No one is without enemies; efpecially he whom Providence and the favour of his King, happens to have raifed to any degree of eminence. I have been led forward, by the hand of Fortune, with greater rapidity than I either defired or deferved; and, this naturally has created me many fecret enemies. I am informed, fome of them have been pleased to whisper, that the letters which I have written to your Royal Highness, were highly unbecoming my character, and that there would come a time when, upon reflection, neither yourtelf, nor his Majefty, would thank me for my trouble.

To deftroy effectually the validity of fuch infinuations, I thought the best way would be to publifh, as a continuation of the former, all thofe which your Royal Highness had received from me, to the end of the year 1753. The merit or confequence of their contents, never entered my head, and therefore could be no part of my motive to publication. To the beft of my knowlege, no more than thirty copies were printed off; fix of which were prelented to the Royal Family at the beginning of the new year, and the reft given to my intimate friends. I had the fatisfaction to hear, that my zeal met with approbation,