In poetry only two names are prominent,Delille and Béranger; but the French are not a poetical nation.

Delille, the poet, in his description of the château and beautiful grounds of Marly, says: C'est là que tout est grand, que l'art n'est point timide; Là tout est enchanté: c'est le Palais d'Armide; C'est le jardin d'Alcine, ou plutôt d'un Héros, Noble dans

a quotation from Delille.

Near this is the tomb of the esteemed and celebrated poet Delille, the "Songster of the Gardens," as the French term him.

JACQVES-DELILLE.

The following beautiful lines, with which I close an account of the most horribly interesting spot I ever visited, are from the pen of Delille: ".......................... Voyez gémir en proie

I shall start in a day or two for Rome, being very impatient to behold the Eternal City, a plan which I have had in view from my earliest days and which I have not been able hitherto to effect; for like the Abbé Delille I had sworn to visit the sacred spot where so many illustrious men had spoke and acted, and to do hommage in person to their Manes.

So sings Voltaire, I believe, or if they are not his lines, they are the Abbé Delille's.

Delille, Abbé, his poetry.

I found him as handsome as the Abbé Delille is said to have been ugly.

He seemed to spite his restrictions; and out of the natural largeness of his sympathy with things high and low, to break at once out of Delille's Virgil into Cotton's, like a boy let loose from school.

Rousseau had led the way to impassioned admiration of the beauties of nature; Bernardin de St. Pierre had just published his Etudes de la Nature; he had in the press his Paul et Virginie; Abbe Delille was reading his Jardin, and M. de St. Lambert his Saisons.

Among the various poets imprisoned, was one we should scarcely have expectedRouget Delille, author of the Marseillois Hymn, who, while his muse was rouzing the citizens from one end of the republic to the other to arm against tyrants, was himself languishing obscurely a victim to the worst of all tyrannies.

Among the various poets imprisoned, was one we should scarcely have expectedRouget Delille, author of the Marseillois Hymn, who, while his muse was rouzing the citizens from one end of the republic to the other to arm against tyrants, was himself languishing obscurely a victim to the worst of all tyrannies.

DELILAH, the Philistine woman who beguiled and betrayed Samson. DELILLE, JACQUES, a French poet, born at Aigues Perse, in Auvergne; translator of the "Georgics" of Virgil into verse, afterwards the "Æneid" and "Paradise Lost," besides producing also certain didactic and descriptive works; was a good versifier, but properly no poet, and much overrated; died blind (1738-1813).

As this subject is one of the most important of which we have to treat, we may be pardoned for introducing an appropriate anecdote related by the French poet Delille: Delille and Marmontel were dining together in the month of April, 1786, and the conversation happened to turn upon dinner-table customs.

As this subject is one of the most important of which we have to treat, we may be pardoned for introducing an appropriate anecdote related by the French poet Delille: Delille and Marmontel were dining together in the month of April, 1786, and the conversation happened to turn upon dinner-table customs.

"They are, indeed, innumerable," said Delille; "and the most annoying fact of all is, that not all the wit and good sense in the world can help one to divine them untaught.

As this subject is one of the most important of which we have to treat, we may be pardoned for introducing an appropriate anecdote related by the French poet Delille: Delille and Marmontel were dining together in the month of April, 1786, and the conversation happened to turn upon dinner-table customs.

As this subject is one of the most important of which we have to treat, we may be pardoned for introducing an appropriate anecdote related by the French poet Delille: Delille and Marmontel were dining together in the month of April, 1786, and the conversation happened to turn upon dinner-table customs.

"They are, indeed, innumerable," said Delille; "and the most annoying fact of all is, that not all the wit and good sense in the world can help one to divine them untaught.

Delille has some beautiful lines, and Berchoux, in his poem of Gastronomie, has a pompous eulogium on its virtues.