la vie. On remarques dans touts ses productions une imagination enjouée et singuliere;" Pontchasteau, who wrote on the cultivation of fruit trees, whose penitence and devotion were so severely austere, and whose very singular history is given us in the interesting "Lettres de Madame la Comtesse de la Riviere;” Linant, to whom Voltaire was a warm protector and friend, and who, in 1745, wrote his poem Sur la Perfection des Jardins, sous la regne de Louis XIV.; and of whom it was said that "les qualités du cœur ne le caractérisoient pas moins que celles de l'esprit ;" Le Pere Rapin ;* D'Argenville; Le Maistre, curate of Joinville, who in 1719 added to his "Fruitier de la France," "Une Dissertation historique sur l'origine et les progrés des Jardins; Vaniere, who wrote the Prædium Rusticum;† Arnauld d'Andilli, in so many respects rendered illustrious, who retired to

* The Nouveau Dict. Hist. thus speaks of the Pere Rapin :— "A un génie heureux, à un goût sur, il joignoit une probité exacte, un cœur droit, un caractere aimable et des mœurs douces. Il étoit naturellement honnête, et il s'étoit encore poli dans le commerce des grands. Parmi ses différentes Poësies Latinés, on distingue le Poëme des Jardins. C'est son chef d'œuvre; il est digne du siecle d'Auguste, dit l'Abbé Des Fontaines, pour l'élegance et la pureté du langage, pour l'esprit et les graces qui y regnent." Among the letters of Rabutin de Bussy, are many most interesting ones from this worthy father.

t + "Rien n'est plus admirable que la peinture naïve que la Pere Vaniere fait des amusemens champêtres; on est egalement enchanté de la richesse et de la vivacité de son imagination, de l'éclat et de l'harmonie de sa poësie, du choix de la pureté de ses expressions. Il mourut a Toulouse en 1739, et plusiers poëtes ornerent de fleurs son tombeau."-Nouv. Dict. Hist.

the convent of Port Royal, (that divine solitude, where the whole country for a league round breathed the air of virtue and holiness, to quote Mad. de Sevigne's words), and who sent each year to the queen some of that choice fruit which he there with such zeal cultivated, and which Mazarin "appelloit en riant des fruits bénis." This good man died at the age of eighty-six, and the letter of Mad. de Sevigné, of the date of Sept. 23, 1671, will alone consign him to the respect of future ages;* Jean Paul de Ardenne, superior of the congregation of the oratory of Marseilles, one of the most famous florists of the period in which he lived, and who devoted great part of his time in deeds of charity; Francis Bertrand, who, in 1757, published Ruris delicæ, being poems from Tibullus, Claudian, Horace, and from many French writers, on the pleasures of the country; Mons. de Chabanon ; Morel, who assisted in laying out Ermenonville, and who wrote, among other works, Théorie des Jardins, ou l'art des Jardins de la Nature; the animated Prevost; Gouges de Cessieres, who wrote Les Jardins d'Ornament, ou les Georgiques Francoises; he, too, whom the Prince de Ligne calls

enchanteur De Lille!

O Virgile moderne!

and whose generous invocation to the memory of

* La Comtesse de la Riviere, thus alludes to this convent: "Madame de Sevigné a pour ce monastere une vénération qui est audelà de toute expression; elle assure qu'on n'approche pas de ce lieu sans sentir au dedans de soi une onction divine."

Captain Cook must endear his name to every Englishman;* the Viscount Girardin, who wrote De la Composition des Paysages, who buried Rousseau in his garden at Ermenonville, and who kept a band of musicians to perambulate those charming grounds, performing concerts sometimes in the woods, and at other times on the water, and at night in a room adjoining his hall of company;† the venerable Malherbes,

* The late Sir U. Price, pays a very high compliment to this exquisite poem, in p. 31, vol. i. of his Essays, terming it full of the justest taste, and most brilliant imagery.

† In the Earl of Harcourt's garden, at Nuneham, in Oxfordshire, (laid out in some parts under the eye and fine taste of the poet Mason), on a bust of Rousseau are these lines:

Say, is thy honest heart to virtue warm?

Can genius animate thy feeling breast?

Approach, behold this venerable form;

'Tis Rousseau! let thy bosom speak the rest.

There are attractive pages in this little volume of the Viscount's, which would have interested either Shenstone, or Gainsborough, particularly the pages 59, 143, 145, and 146, (of Mr. Malthus's translation), for in these pages "we feel all the truth and energy of nature." A short extract from p. 131, will enable the reader to judge of the writer's style :-" When the cool evening sheds her soft and delightful tints, and leads on the hours of pleasure and repose, then is the universal reign of sublime harmony. It is at this happy moment that Claude has caught the tender colouring, the enchanting calm, which equally attaches the heart and the eyes; it is then that the fancy wanders with tranquillity over distant scenes. Masses of trees through which the light penetrates, and under whose foliage winds a pleasant path; meadows, whose mild verdure is still softened by the transparent shades of the evening; crystal waters which reflect all the near objects in their pure surface; mel

the undaunted defender of the oppressed, who throughout his life lost no opportunity of drying up the tears of the afflicted, and never caused one to flow; whose whole life had been consecrated to the happiness of his fellow-creatures and the dignity of his country, but whose spotless reputation could not save him from the guillotine at his age of seventy-two;* Schabol; Latapie, who translated Whately's Observations on

low tints, and distances of blue vapour; such are in general the objects best suited to a western exposure. The sun, before he leaves

the horizon, seems to blend earth and sky, and it is from sky that evening views receive their greatest beauty. The imagination dwells with delight upon the exquisite variety of soft and pleasing colours, which embellishes the clouds and the distant country, in this peaceful hour of enjoyment and contemplation."

* He was enthusiastically devoted to the cultivation of his gardens, which exhibited enchanting scenery, umbrageous walks, and magnificent water-falls. When thus breathing the pure air of rural life, the blood-stained monsters of 1793 seized him in his garden, and led him to the scaffold. "He heard unmoved his own sentence, but the condemnation of his daughter and grand-daughter, tore his heart: the thought of seeing two weak and helpless creatures perish, shook his fortitude. Being taken back to the Conciergerie, his courage returned, and he exhorted his children to prepare for death. When the fatal bell rung, he recovered all his wonted cheerfulness; having paid to nature the tribute of feeling, he desired to give his children an example of magnanimity; his looks exhibited the sublime serenity of virtue, and taught them to view death undismayed. When he ascended the cart, he conversed with his children, unaffected by the clamours of the ferocious populace; and on arriving at the foot of the scaffold, took a last and solemn farewell of his children; immediately after he was dismissed into eternity."

Sir Walter Scott, after noticing "the wild and squalid features"

Modern Gardening, to which he added a discourse on the origin of the art, &c.; Watelet, who wrote Essai sur les Jardins, and whose name has given rise to some most charming lines in De Lille's poem, and

of Marat, who "lay concealed in some obscure garret or cellar, among his cut-throats, until a storm appeared, when, like a bird of ill omen, his death-screech was again heard," thus states the death of another of the murderers of the Malherbes :-" Robespierre, in an unsuccessful attempt to shoot himself, had only inflicted a horrible fracture on his under-jaw. In this situation they were found like wolves in their lair, foul with blood, mutilated, despairing, and yet not able to die. Robespierre lay on a table in an anti-room, his head supported by a deal box, and his hideous countenance halfhidden by a bloody and dirty cloth bound round his shattered chin. As the fatal cars passed to the guillotine, those who filled them, but especially Robespierre, were overwhelmed with execrations. The nature of his previous wound, from which the cloth had never been removed till the executioner tore it off, added to the torture of the sufferer. The shattered jaw dropped, and the wretch yelled aloud, to the horror of the spectators. A mask taken from that dreadful head was long exhibited in different nations of Europe, and appalled the spectator by its ugliness, and the mixture of fiendish expression with that of bodily agony."

Mons. Malherbes loved to relate an answer made to him by a common fellow, during his stay at Paris, when he was obliged to go four times every day to the prison of the Temple, to attend the king his extreme age did not allow him to walk, and he was compelled to take a carriage. One day, particularly, when the weather was intensely severe, he perceived, on coming out of the vehicle, that the driver was benumbed with cold. "My friend," said Malherbes to him, in his naturally tender 66 manner, you must be penetrated by the cold, and I am really sorry to take you abroad in this bitter season.' "That's nothing, M. de Malherbes; in such a

cause as this, I'd travel to the world's end without complaining.' "Yes, but your poor horses could not.”- -"Sir," replied the honest coachman, "my horses think as I do.”