is a proof that a translator may perfectly understand the language of
his original, and yet produce an unreadable translation.

In the early part of his life this unlucky author had not been without
ambition; it was only when disappointed in his political projects that
he resolved to devote himself to literature. As he was incapable of
attempting original composition, he became known by his detestable
versions. He wrote above eighty volumes, which have never found favour
in the eyes of the critics; yet his translations are not without their
use, though they never retain by any chance a single passage of the
spirit of their originals.

The most remarkable anecdote respecting these translations is, that
whenever this honest translator came to a difficult passage, he wrote in
the margin, "I have not translated this passage, because it is very
difficult, and in truth I could never understand it." He persisted to
the last in his uninterrupted amusement of printing books; and his
readers having long ceased, he was compelled to present them to his
friends, who, probably, were not his readers. After a literary existence
of forty years, he gave the public a work not destitute of entertainment
in his own Memoirs, which he dedicated to his relations and all his
illustrious friends. The singular postscript to his Epistle Dedicatory
contains excellent advice for authors.

"I have omitted to tell you, that I do not advise any one of my
relatives or friends to apply himself as I have done to study, and
particularly to the composition of books, if he thinks that will add to
his fame or fortune. I am persuaded that of all persons in the kingdom,
none are more neglected than those who devote themselves entirely to
literature. The small, number of successful persons in that class (at
present I do not recollect more than two or three) should not impose on
one's understanding, nor any consequences from them be drawn in favour
of others. I know how it is by my own experience, and by that of several
amongst you, as well as by many who are now no more, and with whom I was
acquainted. Believe me, gentlemen! to pretend to the favours of fortune
it is only necessary to render one's self useful, and to be supple and
obsequious to those who are in possession of credit and authority; to be
handsome in one's person; to adulate the powerful; to smile, while you
suffer from them every kind of ridicule and contempt whenever they shall
do you the hono