We can only repeat, that we have received great fatisfaction from the prefent fpecimen, and fhall return to the fubfequent parts, when they are published, with confiderable pleasure.

Letters to a young Gentleman, on his setting out' for France. By John Andrews, LL D. 8vo. 6s. Walter.

Profeffed book-makers want only an engaging title-page;

་

they can direct travellers from their closets, and inftru& in fciences, with whofe principles they are unacquainted. Our prefent author inftructs his pupil in French literature, and points out the moft remarkable objects in the metropolis of France; though there is fome reason to fufpect, that he is equally acquainted with both, through the medium of a tranflation, or the descriptions of a former traveller. Any Englishman, with little knowlege of the language, can declaim on the comic humour of Moliere, and the elegant precifion of Boileau; on the judgment of Montesquieu, and the comprehenfive exactness of Croufaz. Without the inconveniencies of a journey, we know that one church is of a fublimely Gothic, and another of an elegantly Grecian architecture. In fhort, to come at once to our fubject, there is fo little difcrimination in our author's accounts, there is fo little feeling in his descriptions, that we confider him rather as a copier than a fpectator. What is heard or read fcarcely affects the mind, compared to thofe vivid perceptions, which are caught at once from the object, and kindle an enthusiastic warmth. Books are indeed frequently, if not most commonly, a repetition of each other: they often ferve to confufe and perplex, instead of affording elucidation.' Thefe are our author's own words, who seems not to be aware that they may be applied to himself.-Mutato nomine de te fabula narratur.

The flimfy texture of this volume, which, with very little matter, is extended through near fix hundred pages, with the affiftance of well-known, and frequently mangled, anecdotes, and uninterefting adventures, prevents us from entering into a particular difcuffion of any part. We fhall felect a paffage, taken with little choice, that we may not be fufpeed of an improper partiality. It is a fufficient fpecimen of the emptinefs of our author's pages.

There are feveral tombs in the church of Notre Dame, very deferving of notice, chiefly for their antiquity, and the perfons whofe remains they contain.

Of all improprieties, none is more deferving of cenfure, than that of burying individuals of no fubftantial merit, in places that ought to be fet apart for perpetuating the memory

of

214

Bergman's Phyfical and Chemical Effays.

were by degrees difcovered, principally because many confidered thefe acids as diftin&t and separate fubftances.' M. Bergman confeffes that he could never obtain the faccharine acid without the affiftance of the nitrous: Mr. Schrikel, we are told, has fince procured it, by repeated diftillations and condenfations alone. We were rather at this dif ficulty, because we recollected fome paffages in old authors,

furprised

with

this

acid,

which fhewed that they were not unacquainted and that they obtained it by fimple diftillation. Ray tells us, in his Hiftoria Plantarum, faccharum falem acidum, & max

ime corrofivum continere ex diftillatione patet,' vol. ii. P. 1280. Dr. Willis confirms this teftimony. Enim vero concretum iftud, fale fatis acri et corrofivo, cum fulphure tamen delinito, conftat, prout ex analyfi ejus Spagirice facta, liquido patet. Quippe faccharum par fe diftillatum, exhibet liquorem aquâ ftygia vix inferiorem.' (De Scorbuto, p. 205.) It is men-tioned by Schroeder (Meffis Medico-Spag. 528.) by Hoffman, (vol. v. p. 717.); and by Lemery, (Curf. Chem. 522.) In all thefe cafes, it was diftilled by itself, or mixed with fand to prevent ebullition. Sometimes it was diffolved in water, and the folution was abforbed by bricks, and afterwards distilled from them. It is probable that, in all these inftances, the true faccharine acid was really produced, from a fact mentioned by Schroeder, that it diffolved cryftals. This was a vague term among the ancient chemifts; but the acid of fugar certainly diffolves fome bodies of this kind, not eafily affected by any other. There is another fact, not fo eafily reconciled to mo dern discoveries: it was a fecret remedy for the calculus; and our author tells us that the peculiar acid of the calculus is of this kind. But this fubject will lead to longer difcuffions than we have room for; we fhall certainly refume it, and be able probably to illuftrate it by fome recent discoveries in France.

We must next enquire into the origin of this acid. It is generally fuppofed, that the acetous acid is virtually contained in fugar, and evolved rather than produced by the process of fermentation. The action of fire may be fufpected to affect that by violence, which is ufually the refult of a more tedious operation; and it would then remain a subject of enquiry, how far the difference depended on a more or lefs complete feparation of phlogifton. But we find the abbé Fontana has obtained an acid, perfectly like that of fugar, from gums and refins, which are not susceptible of the acetous fermentation. Mr. Wat has procured it from gals; fo that every enquiry into its nature must be deduced from a more diftant source. It may be concluded, from analogy, that an acid really exists in fugar,

Bergman's Phyfical and Chemical Effays.

213

filence crouded my imagination with every frantic apprehenfion. One smile, one word of foft and foothing compofition, fell upon my foul like odoriferous balm, was a dulcet and harmonious found, that foothed my anguish into peace, that turned the tempeft within me to that still and lifeless calm, where not a breath disturbs the vaft ferene. 1

And this is the paffion you have violated. You have trampled upon a lover, who would have facrificed his life to

fave that tender and enchanting frame from the impreffion of a thorn. And yet, Matilda, if it had been

only a common levity, I would have pardoned it. If you had given your hand to the first chance comer, I would have drenched the cup of woe in folitude and darkness. Not one complaint from me

should have reached your ear. If you could have found trauquility and contentment, I would not have been the avenging

angel to blast your profpects.

But there are provocations that the human heart cannot withstand. I did not come from the hand of nature callous

and

intrepid,

I

was

Oh, ten

the ftoic of philofophy and reafon. To To lose them!

lofe my mistress and my friend at once. thoufand deaths would have been mercy to the lofs !. Had they been toffed by tempefts, had they been torn from my eyes by whirlwinds, would have viewed the scene with eye-balls of stiffened horn. But to find all that upon which I

had placed my confidence, upon which I refted my weary keart, foul and falfe at once: to have those bofoms, in which I fondly thought I reigned adored, combined in one damned plot to overwhelm and ruin me-Indeed, Matilda, it was too much!'

Phyfical and Chemical Effays. By Sir Torbern Bergman. Vol. I. (Concluded, from p. 87.)

THE faccharine acid is a fubftance little known to the English chemifts; indeed fo little, that, though highly ufeful as a re-agent, in the analysis of mineral waters, it has fcarcely been employed by the phyficians of this nation. It is procured in a cryftalline form, by pouring nitrous acid on fine fugar, and diftilling the liquor: the cryftals feparate when cold. It was at firft fuppofed that it was only a modification, (a convenient term) of the nitrous acid. If we for a moment allow this, it will ftill, from its different affinities, be a convenient fubftance; and, as our author justly obferves, if we' had continued, with the elder chemifts, to confider the nitrous and muriatic acids as fubordinate and derivative, we fhould have been to this day ignorant of many fingular facts, which

cause. The count, eager to evince his friendship and his gra titude, confents to the request; and, while he fuccessfully conducts the affairs of his friend, the marquis poisons the mind of Matilda, with a forged tale of the count's inconftancy and marriage in Spain, and obtains her hand at the altar. When this event is known, the count haftens his return, meets the marquis, and kills him in a duel. Matilda is inconfolable: fhe cannot wed the murderer of her husband; but preferves a lively friendship for the count, with a constant regret of her own credulity.

These are the outlines of this interefting little work, which in general deferves our applaufe. It is pleafing, tender, and pathetic; at the fame time ftrictly moral, and cautiously delicate. If we have infinuated fome little errors, they were chiefly mentioned to point out where the author may most advantageously employ his correcting pen.

We shall select a paffage from the letter of St. Julian to Matilda, after the duel, when he was unacquainted with the arts which had been ufed to alienate her mind. It speaks daggers' more feelingly than if he had ufed them.

I write this letter with a hand dyed with the blood of your husband. Let not the idea startle you. Matilda is advanced too far to be frightened with bugbears. What, shall a mind inured to fickleness and levity, a mind that deserted, without reason and without remorfe, the most constant of lovers, and that recked not the confequences, shall such a mind be terrified at the fight of the purple blood, or be moved from its horrid tranquility by all the tragedies that an universe can furnish?

Matilda, I have flain your husband, and I glory in the deed. I will anfwer it in the face of day. I will defy that man to come forward, and when he views the goary, lifelefs corfe, fay to me with a tone of firmnefs and conviction,

"thou haft done wrong."

And now I have but one business more with life. It is to arraign the fair and traiterous author of all my misfortunes. Start not at the black catalogue. Flinch not from the detail of infernal mifchief. The mind that knows how to perpetrate an action, fhould know how to hear the ftory of it repeated, and to answer it in all its circumstances.

• Matilda, I loved you. Alas, this is to say little! All my thoughts had you for their centre. I was your flave. With you I could encounter tenfold calamity, and call it happiness. Banished from you, the world was a colourlefs and confused chaos. One moment of difpleafure, one interval of ambiguous

filence

[ 21 ]

Italian Letters: or, the Hiftory of the Count de St. Julian. Twa

THIS

Volumes. Small 8vo. 53. ferved. Robinson.

'HIS is a novel which interests rather by a faithful and ac curate defcription of the feelings of a wounded mind, than by incident, buttle, or intrigue. They are called, with propriety, Italian Letters, independent of the fcene and coun try of the persons introduced. The fentiments are refined and

delicate; the diftrefs rifes to horror, and infpires fury and revenge. The language is fuitable to the fituations; it is fpi

rited and forcible in fome parts, and more placidly elegant in others; but it is deformed by foreign idioms, and words which with particular meanings are fcarcely yet naturalized. To commit a character,' or to manage it,' for inftance, are not, at prefent, allowable. We shall add a little sketch of the story.

The hero of thefe Letters, the count de St. Julian, the friend and the Mentor of the marquis de Pescara, is, from his difpofition and acquifitions, well fitted to difcharge this important office: a man of honour, fteadiness, and fanctity, whofe head and heart are equally adorned with every science, and every quality, which can render him refpectable and amiable. The marquis admires the form of virtue in his friend; but has not steadiness to imitate him. In this character, the author feems chiefly to have failed. The indif cretions of the marquis, in the former part, are those of weakness; in the latter, they are the most deteftable villany. We allow much for the difference of his company, and the folicitations of his fashionable friends; but the change is too fudden to be natural.

The count, after the departure of the marquis from the university, in which they were educated together, lofes his father, and is deprived of his patrimony by the villany of his brother. He departs from Palermo; and, when attacked by robbers, is rescued by the marquis, who had heard of his miffortunes, and was haftening to relieve them. With him be

remains fome time, and is then affectionately received by his relation, the duke of Benevento, with whofe daughter, Matilda, he had been long, and as he thought, hopelessly in love. The duke however overlooks the poverty of a relation fo valuable, and gives his confent to their union. Soon afterwards, before the marriage is completed, he dies. Matilda infifts on delaying it for a decent period: and, in this interval, the marquis requests that he would attend to his affairs in Spain; for his eftate in that kingdom was in danger, in con. fequence of a new claimant, who was eagerly profecuting his