rine, and the Virgin offering her hosom to the infant Jesus, are by Corregio: the three following were painted by Salvator Rosa, 1. Democrites and Protagoras; Ulysses and Nausica; Persons at play. From the pencil of Guido Rheni, we have the Doctors of the Church in consultation, and the Adoration of the Shepherds; from that of Annibal Carrachi the Virgin and Infant, with a Jesus bearing the Cross; from that of Andrew del Sarto, the Visitation. and the Virgin and Child. We have also, a Holy Family by Leonardo de Vinci, another by Dominichino, a dead Christ by Paul Veronese, a portrait of a man by Gi orgini, the Cyclops by Lucus Giordano, and a Virgin and Child by Berochio.

Of the French school we have five of the best pictures by Nicolas Poussin. 1. Tancred succoured by Herminia. 2. Armida and Reynado, 3. A Holy Family. 4. Moses striking the rock and producing water; and, 5. The Continence of Scipio. There are also two pictures by Lesueur, representing the death of St. Stephen, and Darius ordering the tomb of Ni tocris to be opened. Claude Lorrain has one, of Jesus and his disciples in the road to Emmaus: and Bourdon's Perseus and Andromache is also engraved for the present volume.

The Flemish and Dutch schools have furnished the following, 1. Roman Charity by Rubens, the portrait of François Sneyders and his wife; that of Jean-Vander-Vower, and the Incredulity of St. Thomas by Vandyke. The Sacrifice of Abraham, and a Holy Family by Rembrandt; a Huntsman before a Cottage by Paul Potter, and a Dutch Morning by Mieris. In ad. dition to these, is the celebrated Re. pose in Egypt, by Murillo, of the Spanish school.

The description of the pictures by Camille, is written with precision on one hand, while his judgment on the other is equally just and profound. In addition to this, he has added biographical notices relative to the great masters. According to his idea, the following are the capital pieces in the present collection.

1. Jesus Christ, by Paul Veronese. 2. The Doctors of the Church in consultation, by Guido Rheni.

3. Jesus bearing his Cross, by Annibal Carrache.

4. The Martyrdom of St. Sebastian, by Vandyke, together with

5. The Portrait of Jean-Vander. Vower by the same artist.

6. Armida and Rinaldo, with 7. Moses in the act of striking the Rock, by N. Poussin.

8. The Death of St. Stephen by Le sueur. And

9. Democrites and Protagoras, by Salvator Rosa.

“Dissertation sur l'Echicite, &c." Dissertation concerning electrical Machines, Galvanism, Burning Mirrors, &c.

The author of this little volume introduces a variety of curious particulars, but on the whole they are rather ingenious than novel. In respect to electrical machines, which occupy Part I. many of our literary productions might have afforded interesting materials,and rendered his work far more valuable. He indeed mentions that Beyer attempted to improve their construction, by the addition of a pointed piece of platina, which was exempt from oxydation; but he never once alludes to the experiments in this country, tending to a comparative estimate of the superiority of pointed instruments over balls. In a large building, he thinks that the terminations of the conductors ought to be within ten metres of each other.

The second part, contains only three articles:

1. Galvanic electricity;
2. Magnetism;

And 3. Light, with which he concludes,as being the most difficult of the whole. Under the last of these heads, all the recent discoveries are to be found, and we are also presented with the theory of that optical deception, termed the phantasmagoria, which some years since astonished many of the people of this metropolis. It is stated that the imaginary approach of the supposed phantom proceeds from the gradual developement of the figure, which circumstance serves to convey an idea both of action and ap. proximation.

We all know, it has been asserted, that Archimedes set fire to the Roman fleet, by means of glasses. The author is of opinion, that this is not only possible but probable, all that was wanted being to employ the combined action of several plane

mirrors;

mirrors" and this celebrated geometrician," says he," has afforded us sufficient proof, that he was capable of such an idea."

"Father Kircher," we are told," was the first person who conceived the notion of substituting in the place of a concave mirror, several smooth ones, so disposed, that the rays of the sun being reflected from their surfaces, should converge towards one common point. He employed only five of these mirrors, but these were placed in such a direction, that the concourse of the rays took place at more than 32 me. tres, 5, (100 feet), distance, and he found that the heat was nearly insupportable." This philosopher reasoned thus: "if five mirrors produce such a great effect what would one hundred do, provided they were arranged in a similar manner." The heat would be so great, that every thing must be consumed and reduced to ashes.*

"Several ingenious men," it is added, "have since undertaken a variety of experiments of a similar nature; but as pieces of polygonal mirror, erected at the Jardins des Plantes, in 1747, in conformity to an idea suggested by the celebrated Buffon, surpasses every thing of this kind hitherto attempted, whether we consider the grandeur of its effects, or the ingenious contrivance and construction of the machine.t This mirror consisted of one hundred and sixtyeight glasses, susceptible of motion in every direction, so that it was possible to fix it at any degree of inclination. The result was that to the whole could be given a form more or less concave, while the focus might be contrived in such a manner, as to uuite an immense number of rays, and produce an inteuse heat. This mirror burnt wood at 65 metres (200 feet), melted metals at 14 met. 5, (45 feet), and its author was persuaded, that by multiplying the glasses, the same effect might be produced much further off."

Upon the whole this is a collection of considerable merit, as it comprehends the history and progress of the sciences, and, may prove singularly useful to such as are so well acquainted with

* Kirker Ars Magna Lucis et Umbræ, lib. x. p. 888.

Buffon, Hist. Nat. ed. in 12mo. 1774, Supplement II. p. 141 et suiv.

It

the French language, as to comprehend its technical phraseology. must be recollected, however, that it is only meant as an elementary book. NOVELS, ROMANC 8, &c.

"Alphonze ou le Fils Nature}:" Alphonzo or the Natural Son; by Madame de Genlis, 2 vols. 12mo. Paris, 1809.-Imported by J. De Boffe, Bookseler, Nassau street, Soho.

Madame de Genlis is one of the most celebrated novel writers of the present age, and it is but doing her jus ice to say, that with a considerable share of ingenuity, this lady has always united a laudable attention to mora's. She tells us in her preface "that were virtue a mere matter of conversation, secret vice and mysterious crimes would be seldom attended with any disastrous consequences; but this not being the case, every bad action is always attended with unhappy results, and every instance of disobedience to the divine law is constantly followed, either sooner or later by pernicious consequences. Vice destroys every thing," it is added, "even the sentiments of nature; it produces nothing, but misery and disorder in society, while virtue alone can maintain harmony. I have accordingly endeavoured in the present work to develope those truths, not by argument, but by striking examples. I have wished to conduct the heroes

and heroines of this romance, to happiness, by contraining their passions and exhibiting to them the danger of leaving the path sketched out to them, by a sense of duty, in order to resign themselves to the enthusiasm of imaginary virtues, and fantastic preten

sions."

The first chapter introduces us to the acquaintance of the best society at Besancon in France; or at least what was accounted the first in a country town, anterior to the revolution. The Marchioness de *** is represented as a rich dowager of forty years old, who possessed one of the best houses in all Franche-Comté. She has a daughter twenty years of age, educated at the convent of Panthenont, and they had both returned from Paris, and opened their house to all their acquaintance, in order to display themselves, as models of the ladies of Versailles, and thus exhibit a marked superiority over such of the provincials as were two whole years in

arrear,

arrear, in respect to the manners as well as the dress of the court and capital.

The principal object of scandal, was the arrival of a lady in that neighbourhood, who lived along with her uncle and his son, and as she was both beautiful and accomplished, it may be easily imagined, that but few compliments were paid, either to her face or talents. Melanie, for this happened to be her name, was tall and elegant. She joined to the grace of a Creole,for she was a native of the West Indies-a very considerable degree of personal perfection; her features were regular, her eyes piercing, her month small. her teeth white, and her hair of a shining auburn. There was an air of timidity and melancholy, however, in her countenance, which notwith. standing her youth and graces, inspired an idea of reserve. Dormeuil her uncle, had been ruined in consequence of some unforeseen misfortunes that occurred in the island of St. Domingo; but a sufficiency remained to enable him to maintain the station of a gentleman, in a pretty little house, where an elegant simplicity reigned, and where his niece, and the young Alphonzo, who was cal led his son, constituted the whole of his happiness. Alphonzo was a young man of good education and excellent parts; but his character was impe. tuous and fiery, so that while his virtues and accomplishments promised to render him not only an amiable, but an accomplished man, his temper was calculated to lead him into many

errors.

Notwithstanding the whole family, consisting of those three persons were desirous to avoid company, yet Melvil, a gentleman of large fortune in the neighbourhood, was to introduce him self, and soon after declared his passion for Melanie; but his pretensions were secretly opposed by Alphonso, who was himself in love, and with the same object.

This young man being desirous of entering into the army as an officer, determined to have an explanation of his precise situation and pretensions, and soon learned, to his inexpressible confusion, that he was a bastard, and Consequently inadmissible during the existence of the ancient monarchy! Notwithstanding this, he throws himself soon after at the feet of Melanie,

2

and declares his passion: when this lady to his inexpressible surprise and confusion, declares herself his mother! He now attempts to make away with himself, but is prevented by the arrival of Melvil, who learns the fatal secret, and finding that his mistress was a mother, and yet unmarried and innocent, he is more attached to her than ever.

We find from her story, that she was born in St. Domingo; that her mother died immediately after; and that she was educated by an aunt, both pious and virtues, yet entirely ignoraut of the world. When only seven years of age, her father repaired to Europe, and in the luxurious and debauched city of Paris, soon squandered away the whole of his fortune. During his absence and that of her uncle Dormeuil, when only thirteen years of age, she was prevailed on to go to a ball, given in the capital of the island, by a new governor; and as her aunt was extremely old, and subject to a disease that soon brought her to the grave, she was confided to the care of a friend. The Count D'Olmene, nephew to his excellency, having been captivated with her opening charms, waited upon her at her own house, and by means of a letter from her father, relative to some colonial business, obtained her confidence. Although his person was odious to her, yet she was obliged to listen to his addresses, which

were not however of an honourable nature. Yet, having obtained the consent of her aunt, who was unable to make the necessary inquiries, and suborned Sanite a female slave, by means of a purse of money, and a rich embroidered handkerchief, the count proceeded in his guilty ca reer. At length he was introduced into the bed chamber of the beautiful Creole, during the night, aud she having been stupified by means of a powerful potion, the crime was perpetrated, and the ravisher fled.

A long illness followed this execrable deed, and the young lady, soon after her recovery found she was with child. On this, the Negro who had been accessary to her dishonour, perceiving detection unavoidable, and dreading the fury of the uncle Dormeuil, who was on his voyage home from France, took poison and expired in great agonies.

On his return, Dormeuil immedi ately

ately sold the plantation, and collecting the wreck of his fortune which had been ruined by the imprudence of an only brother, now no more, he carried his niece to an obscure quarter of the island. There she was delivered of Alphonso, with whom they both came to Europe, and immediately on their arrival at Paris, the exasperated uncle sent a box of jewels, with the following letter to the seducer, who proved to be a married man, and by his father's death had now become duke D'Olmene:

"Take back these dishonourable and detested presents, and if you are not to the full as cowardly as you are wicked and base, repair to-morrow morning by break of day to the great alley in the wood of Vincennes. As the offended person, the choice of weapons appertains to me, I shall be provided with pistols, and intend to have no other witness than my negro servant.

"I now inform you, that the guilty slave corrupted by you, attempted to expiate her crime, by means of a voluntary death, and while expiring, loaded you with her maledictions. God, the avenger of premeditated crimes, will doubtless, sooner or later fulfil the last wishes of that unfortunate wretch."

They accordingly met at the time appointed, and at the first shot, the West Indian wounded his adversary in the left shoulder. On this, the Duke fired his in the air, on which Dormeuil, surprised at such an act of gene rosity from such a base character, exclaimed, "I shall no longer admire valour, since it can ally itself to such odious vices."

Melvil, who was a man of great influence, now undertook to inake a suitable provision for his young friend Alphonso, and finding him duly qualified, he presented him to the new ambassador to the court of Vienna, with whom hewas to live in the capacity of secretary. He proved to be a dissipated courtier of high rank and pretensions, who enjoyed high favour at Versailles, and was one of the richest noblemen in France;-in fine, he proved to be the Duc D'Olmene.

On being established in this family, Alphonso soon found himself treated with great haughtiness by the Duchess, while her husband received him always with a marked but cold civility.

His niece Hermenia, was, however, fully sensible of the merits of the young secretary, and she preferred him to the count D'Olmene, her intend. ed husband. This nobleman was not long ignorant of the preference, and being at once proud and impetuous, after upbraiding Alphonso as a bas. tard, he challenged him to single combat. A duel accordingly took place, and the latter finding himself slightly wounded, soon after propagated a false rumour of his own death, in order to oblige his rival to fly to a foreign country, and enable himself thus left master of the field, to obtain a large estate, by means of marriage with his cousin whom he detested. His scheme, however, was frustrated by the more deadly enmity of the Duke, who procured a lettre de cachet to shut up Alphonso in a fortress for the rest of his life!

At this critical moment, Melanie hearing of the misfortunes of her son, instantly repairs to Paris, procures an interview with the Duke, accuses him of perfidy and ravishment, and obtains an order for the enlargement of her son. No sooner, however, had she left the hotel d'Olmene, than this atrocious noblemen representing her as a woman of the town, to the lieutenant of the police, procures an order for her confinement. But by the sudden arrival of Melvil from England, and the interposition of Herminie, both the lady and son are restored to freedom, while the Duke is disgraced and disho noured. Soon after/ this, the latter is obliged to give an account of the fortune of his ward during her minority, and becomes reduced to beggary by the restoration of large sums of money which he had squandered in debauchery. On the other hand Melvil and Melanie are immediately married, and all the parties worthy of being rendered happy become so.

On the whole, this is an interesting novel. It is to be observed, however, that it contains a severe satire on the ancient nobility, while it discloses all the horrors of a despotic government, such as France, unhappily still is!

"Sur les Gardins, &c." Translation of a Chinese work on GARDENS, originally written by Baron de Be senval.

Let others build palaces to conceal their chagrin, or display their va

nity; as for me, I have created a solitude, in order to amuse my leisure hours, and converse with my friends, Twenty acres of land have proved sufficient for the completion of my design. In the midst is a large hall, where I have assembled five thousand volumes, for the purpose of interrogating wisdom, and conversing with antiquity.

Towards the south is a saloon, in the midst of waters, formed by a little brook, that descends from the side of yonder western acclivity. They form a deep and capacious basin, whence they expand in five branches, like the claws of a leopard These are covered with innumerable swans, which swim about and enjoy themselves on all sides. On the margin of the first of these, where the stream precipitates itself in the form of cascades, rises a steep rock, the top of which is curbed so as to resemble the trunk of an clephant, this supports a balcony, whence may be enjoyed the fresh air of the evening, or the rubies with which Aurora crowns the rising sun, contemplated at ease.

The second branch soon divides itself into two canals, which take a serpentine direction around a gallery bordered with a double terrass adorned with festoons, which are formed by means of a thousand different kinds of jasmines, roses and pomegranates. The western branch, bending in form of a bow towards the north, forms a little island. The banks of this isle are bedecked with sand, shells, and peb. bles, all of different colours: one part is planted with evergreens, another is ornamented with a cabin composed of reeds, and thatch, such as is generally used by fishermen.

The two remaining canals, seem, by turns, to seek for and fly from each other, while following the declivity of a flowery meadow, to the freshness and verdure of which they not a little contribute. Sometimes they leave their course, to form little sheets of water amidst the turf; at other times they quit the level of the field, and descend in narrow currents, to dash against a labyrinth of rocks, which dispute their passage and cover them with foam.

To the north of the grand saloon are several little summer-houses placed without art, some on little hillocks, which rise above the rest, exactly MONTHLY Mag. No. 208.

like a mother above her children. Others are built on the declivities; while a few placed in the narrow vallies, are seen but in part. All the environs are shaded by groves of tufted bamboos, intersected by narrow paths, into which the sun never penetrates.

On the eastern side opens a little plain, divided into compartments, some of which are oval, and some square: these, which are sheltered by a wood of ancient cedar trees from the north wind, are filled with odoriferous plants, salutary herbs, beautiful flowers, and sweet-scented shrubs. Spring and the Zephyrs seem to have taken up their residence in this delicious spot. A little plot of pomegra nate, citron and orange trees, always decked with fruit, as well as with flowers, terminates the view, and bounds the horizon.

This

On the west side,an alley of weeping willows conducts you to the border of a broad stream, which falls at the distance of a few paces from the top of a crag, become green by means of ivy, and coiled herbs. The neighbourhood presents nothing but a barrier of pointed rocks, fantastically assembled together, which form groups somewhat after the manner of an am phitheatre, and appear at once rustic and picturesque. Below is a profound grotio, into which you descend by means of steps. Enlarging itself by degrees, it at length forms an irregular kind of vault, the roof of which terininates in a dome. The light enters through an opening, whence depend clusters of honey-suckle, and several other kinds of vines. second saloon serves as a retreat during the heat of the dog days. Scattered fragments of rock, or alcoves formed in the wall, constitute the only seats. A little fountain, which springs. out of one side of the building, fills the hollow of a stone, which has been rendered circular by accident, and whence it escapes in little rills to trinkle over the pavement. Its waters, after having taken a thousand serpentine directions, all unite at length in a reservoir prepared for a bath, the basin of which is emptied at pleasure, into a little pool at the foot of the grotto, situate among the rocks which surround the whole habitation. These rocks in their turn, are inhabited by a colony of rabbits, which return with " interest

4 Y