sentimental tear. The Safon roads, indeed, are unmercifully rough, and an author, particularly a dramatic one, must be excused if he is a little angry at being interrupted by a hard jolt, in the very middle perhaps of a compound epithet!

In travelling among the romantic Scenery of Switzerland, Kotzebue has scarcely treated us with a description: he is wise. "A person (says he) ought to see Switzerland with his own eyes, just as he ought to hear a concert with his own ears: he who paints countries with words, does still less than the person who bums a symphony."

The country about Zurich is very beautiful; its walks might even "tempt the gouty to exercise."

"Gesner's monument is a performance of such simplicity and neatness, that you can scarcely withhold the tribute of a tear. It is a pity that the French chasseurs, who have now no other opportunity to perpetuate their name, endeavour to do it upon this marble. In many parts I found scrawled the 13th regiment of chasseurs, which is really as opposite to the world of Idyls, as a musket

to a rose-tree.

"In the library there are a great many books: an ordinary traveller can seldom say more of such an establishment. A couple of letters, in the hand-writing of the celebrated Jane Grey, interested me. They are on religious subjects, in very good Latin, and as finely written as if by the hand of a writing

'master."

The temper of the Swiss still resembles the ruffled surface of the deep, out of which a subterraneous fire has suddenly projected some rocks, against which the confined surges dash their impotent spray. The walls of the public-houses are often covered with bitter sallies, which are sometimes not without point.

"The Swiss cherish the most inveterate

hatred against general Andermatt, the bombarder of Zurich. He lives retired at his country house, where he is skreened from the general contempt."

surely was it possible for the most indifferent traveller to pass by without describing that awful phenomenon, the Loss of the Rhône. It is now three years since we visited this scene of wildness and apparent ruin, and stood on those sublime but perilous points of rock, one foot in France and the other in Savoy, from which we saw the angry Rhône fretting between our feet. It was in the depth of winter when we travelled this fearful road: oftentimes was our carriage enveloped in the clouds which issued from a defile of mountains on the right; they rolled after each other, and when they had escaped from the hills, we saw them make a sullen descent below us, and watched them hovering over the valley, till a succeeding volume of mist interrupted the view: the impression made and confused masses of rock which enupon our minds on beholding those vast gulf the Rhône, was probably rendered more solemn and more grateful by the congenial gloom which chanced to overspread the scene.*

enor

Kotzebue dedicates three pages to the city of Lyons, which he calls an " posed to sale in almost every house, and mous shop," because something is exthen he hurries on to Paris, which, to our astonishment, he says, “you may enter as unmolested as your own house; no custom-house officers, no sentinels, no searching, no enquiries respecting your name, quality, or business; the stranger reaches his inn without being noticed by any one, and even there he is not asked for his passport." Vol. I. p. 85. And are the gates of Paris in truth thus unsuspectingly thrown open? It is with difficulty that we can give credit to the

statement.

Arrived at Paris; what can we learn from Kotzebue, which many, very many of our own countrymen, who visited that gay and profligate metropolis during the short breathing-time of peace, have not already told us? The manners and amusements of the Parisians high and low, their quackeries, from the program. me of the government to the mendicant jugglers upon the Pont-neuf, their mu seums, galleries, libraries, theatres, their opera, their frescati,, all have been de scribed to us a hundred times. must not repeat the tale so often told.

We

Kotzebue's descriptions are brief, but lively, characteristic, and correct. We shall select a few anecdotes.

The boxes of Bonaparte at the diffe. rent theatres are, of course, very richly decorated; " among other ornaments is a gold star, which is sometimes on the top and sometimes at the bottom of the box. It is said that he believes in a star of fortune, on which he places more reliance than on his own great genius." When bis imperial majesty condescends to speak, Kotzebue says, that " a placid smile gives a grace to his mouth, and produces confidence in the person whom he addresses. It was exactly the same," he continues, "with Paul I. whose plea sant countenance was irresistible!" May we take the liberty of presuming, that this irresistible benignity of Paul's countenance was not altogether apparent till after Kotzebue's return from his excur sion to Siberia? Probably it was conspicuous enough during his interview with the emperor, when the latter sent for him to translate into German his celebrated challenge to the belligerent crowned heads of Europe, and their respective ministers.

"Now I am speaking of Paul, I ought not to omit mentioning, that the first consul had some conversation with me concerning this unfortunate monarch, and testified his sincere regard for him. He was a hot headed prince,' said he, among other things, but he had an excellent heart.'

"The American minister stood at some distance from me, and if I remember rightly, I was conversing with him concerning the commerce of his country. This afforded that gentleman an opportunity of dropping a slight hint how desirable the return of peace would be. Bonaparte shrugged his shoulders, as if he meant to say, 66 It is not my fault." Some words on this subject even seemed ready to escape his lips, but he repressed them, and proceeded. He spoke with great ease and frankness on various topics, and when he approached me a second time, the stage was likewise brought on the carpet. He called us Germans melancholy, and expressed his opinion, that the moving, sentimental comedies were in some measure injurious to French tragedy; adding, that he was not fond of weeping, &c."

"When the chief consul suddenly set out on his journey to the coast, nobody knew any thing of his intention until a few hours previous to his departure. He is even said to have sent papers to the ministers the same morning, requesting they would make a report upon them the following day. He briefly informed two of his adjutants that

they were to attend him on his journey, a king them whether they required much time to prepare for it. Conceiving that he would allow them at least a few days, they replie in the negative. Well,' said Bonaparte, then take your swords and hats.' In fact, directions had just been given to put the horses to the carriage, and the courier, who was to order the relays, had set off only a quarter of an hour before.

"This active man cannot conceive, nor

endure, that any person should be ill; a trait of character which he possesses in com, retinue provide a stock of medicines when mon with Paul I. On this account, all his they attend him on a journey, as they would otherwise not have time to procure any."

Kotzebue's trip to Paris was made in 1804: no Englishman has paid a voluntary visit to it since the renewal of the war. Political caricatures are as numerous there as here.

"In some of these wretched productions, back, on the sea shore, peeping at the French Mr. Pitt is represented riding on his m-j-sty's ships in the othing; here the sovereign leaps over the channel, and in his jump loses his crown; there he picks up a number of paper cases, on which the names of his dominions are written, but unable to hold them all, he lets some of them fall. Hanover is already on the ground, Ireland just tumbling, and Malta appears very loose. Here the English are seen flying before a cloud of dust, raised by a flock of sheep, and there Mr. Pitt exercising his troops, all of whom have pigs' heads. The caricature which may perhaps be called the wittiest, is the following: a maker of trusses for ruptures presents the king with a new truss, on which is written, observation des traités, the observance of treaties. At his majesty's feet lie two broken bandages, one bearing the inscription forces navales, or naval forces; the other levic en masse, rising in a mass."

We must pass over much that is amusing, and illustrative of modern manners in Paris, in order to notice the curious his third volume of an impudent advenaccount which Kotzebue has given in turer, who has succeeded, in different parts of the republic, in imposing on the populace as the dauphin of France. In his process of telling the story, Kotzebue seems to have half persuaded himself into a belief of it.

Jean Marie Hervagault is the son of a taylor at St. Lo; it must not be concealed, however, that by some he is suspected to be a natural son of the late duke of Valentinois. A youth of no education, but possessing an ample share

of penetration and impudence; his features bear a strong resemblance to those of Louis XVI. In September, 1796, he left his father's house, and strolled about the country as a vagabond, declaring himself to be the son of a family of rank, reduced to distress by the revolution. His youth and well-simulated innocence left no room for suspicion, and he was every where relieved. However he was unlucky enough to be taken up as a vagrant at Cherbourg; but his father, apprised of his fate, obtained his release and brought him home. He strolled away a second time, and deceived many persons of rank, while he passed some. times as the distant relative of an emperor, sometimes of a king. He was arrested at Bayeaux, in female attire, and conducted to prison, from which his father had the good fortune, a second time, to procure his release. He broke loose again in the year 1797, and again lived by his wits at the houses of men of opulence and credulity. In 1798 he related his story at the castle of Guignaucourt; but being suspected, he was once more put under arrest, and sent to Chalons, where he said that his name was Louis Antoine Jean Francois de Langueville; that his father was dead, and that his mother, Madame Sainte Emilie, lived at Benzeville, near Pont Audemar, in the department of Eure.

Confined in the prison of Chalons, he assumed an air of such dignity and mysterious deportment, that in a short time it was whispered about, "It is the dauphin !" The gaoler himself believed the story, advanced him money, and treated him with profound respect; the inhabitants of Chalons, of the privileged orders, vied with each other in ing this last ill-fated offspring of their kings, and the table of this new Perkin Warbec was daily spread with all the delicacies of the season.

support

The vigilance of the magistrates was at length excited, and Hervagault underwent stricter examination; with a refinement of artifice, he now declared, in a manner which was calculated to discredit his assertion, that he was the son of a taylor at St. Lo. His father, on being applied to, confirmed the statement, and the offender was sentenced to one month's imprisonment. The people at Chalons obstinately persevered in be lieving him to be the son of Louis XVI, In the department of Calvados, our hero was very unfortunate; being at Vire, he

"When the police discovered these proceedings, his partisans, upon deliberation, travels. His route was so contrived that he found it expedient to send the dauphin on his everywhere found confidential friends, who, being previously informed of his supposed high birth, shewed him all the respect due to that exalted station. He was once at Rheims, twice at Vitry le Francais, and often at different country-seats, where balls, concerts, and feasts of every kind, were given in honour of him. At Vitry he was splendidly and conveniently lodged at the house of Madame de Rambecour, whose husband closely followed all his footsteps, waited upon him with the most attentive zeal, and served him like a valet. On St. Louis's day a superb fete was prepared for him, it being the feast of the saint whose name he hore. The ladies sung songs composed in honour of him. In the confidential circles which he frequented, they always called him mon prince! his portrait was handed about as that of the dauphin, and it was reported that the pope himself had imprinted a mark on his leg, to know him again by; finally, a letter was handed about from a bishop, in which this deluded prelate writes in expressions of the profoundest respect for this young vagabond; and, by his example, convinced many who were still wavering in their belief. Already was a court formed round Louis XVII; he had immediately his favourites, and was going to nominate those who were to hold the great offices of his household. Many names of consequence were to be found among them. They all glowed with enthusiasm, and prepared to make the greatest sacrifices. Men of birth and rank deemed themselves fortunate in being able to perform the meanMisers turned spendthrifts, that they might est drudgery of menial service for him. have the honour of entertaining him. It was very natural that such proceedings should not escape the eye of a vigilant police. Fouché was informed at Paris of all that was going forward at Vitry; and a warrant put an end to the farce."

Not entirely so. The royal soul of

Hervagault was not to be depressed by adversity; his even and dignified deportment kept alive the mystery. His table was constantly served in the most sumptuous manner: and once he indig. nantly dashed his mess to the ground, because it only consisted of a chicken, a pigeon, a salad, and a custard. Go ing to mass, a servant or a page carried. his prayer-book and cushion; he appointed a secretary, and made him sign in his name that of Louis Charles. The mayor of Vitry at length found it neces. sary to keep his prisoner under close confinement, and no one was admitted to the dauphin without a ticket.

It was in the year 1802 that Hervagault was sentenced to four years' imprisonment, in the house of correction at Ostend, as a sharper and an abuser of the credulity of the people. He appealed against this sentence to the government, and the sentence was ordered to be revised at Rheims, when "the aged pre. late L. de S.... bishop of V...,, a man venerable for his integrity, universally respected for the austerity of his man ners and his profound learning, expressed his conviction that Hervagault was the real and genuine dauphin. He had even spoken to the surgeons who had anato mised the corpse of the pretended dau phin in the Temple, who had informed him that it was not that of the real one,"

This good credulous old prelate had commenced a system of education with the young monarch, and was now only fearful lest his royal pupil should be sentenced to transportation. He drew up a list of persons to whom the fate of the dauphin might with propriety be entrust ed; among these were the names of Necker, Madame de Stael, Talleyrand, La Harpe, &c. &c. A project was formed to marry him with a distant relation of the royal family. Hervagault at first seemed to wave the proposal: during his absence from France, after his lucky escape from the Temple, he had been received with the utmost warmth, and with the most lavish honours, at every European court; but it was at Lisbon that he became acquainted with love! The queen, said he, who shewed the most decided partiality for me, promised me the hand of her charm ing sister, the princess Benedictina, dow ager of the prince of Brazil. Her majesty likewise used every endeavour to interest the potentates of Europe in

my fate; to her I stand indebted for a declaration signed by the ambassadors of nine sovereigns, (England, Portugal, the emperor of Germany, the kings of Prussia, Sardinia, Sweden, Denmark, Russia, and the pope,) by which I was formally acknowledged, and promised succour; this declaration must still remain among the archives of the court of Portugal.

Having sworn the path of fidelity and love, therefore, to the queen of Portugal's "charming sister, the princess. Benedictina," it could not be without a pang, a severe struggle between duty and pledged affection, that the young dauphin at last yielded, from political motives, to the entreaties of his friends. He consented, and it was accordingly resolved to make levies of men for his ser

vice.

Whilst these negotiations were ma turing, the trial of Hervagault was revised in the presence of a crowded court, before the criminal tribunal at Rheims. The enthusiasm of the people was excited to the highest pitch in favor of the royal prisoner: the judges, however, confirmed the original sentence. But this confirmation of the sentence by no means intimidated his friends; the zealous and the loyal prelate, learning that it was intended to bring his illustri ous pupil from Rheims to Soissons, de: termined to rescue him on the road, His plot was detected, himself and his papers were seized; but the government had compassion on his age, and gave him his liberty. Hervagault formed another junto of partisans at Soissons, and at last the government thought proper, says Kotzebue, to make him disappear.

The story which the impostor himself told concerning his escape from the Tem ple was, that after the fall of Robespicrre, the ruling factions were divided among themselves, and many were not disinclined to the restoration of royalty; that overtures were made to the Vandeans by Rouelle, a member of the na tional convention, and one of the conditions which the former insisted upon was the deliverance of the dauphin. This was consented to conditionally that it should be kept secret for a time, and that another child should be substituted in its place: one Hervagault, a taylor at St. Lo, was bribed by 200.000 francs to sacrifice, for the public good, his son, who very much resembled the real dauphin. The taylor's son accordingly

was one night carried to the Temple in a cart, concealed among a parcel of clean linen, whilst the dauphin was half smothered among the foul table cloths and chemises, which were taken away by the same cart to be washed. The rest of the story is obvious enough; the dauphin was conveyed to the royalist army, and would have been reinstated in his hereditary dignity, but that the negotiations for peace were unfortu. nately broken off by the perfidy of the republicans. The Quiberon expedition had an unfortunate influence on the fate of the dauphin; and although the republicans had surrendered his person to the royalists for the establishment of a limited monarchy, by way of compromise, still the cabinet of St. James's and the French princes would hear nothing of such degrading stipula tions; the unhappy dauphin, therefore, was left to his fate, wandered over Europe, fell in love with "the charming princess Benedictina," returned to France in the disguise of a female, was taken up, &c. &c. Kotzebue asserts, that a great number of persons firmly and implicitly believe, at this moment, that Louis XVII. is alive.

There are two circumstances which appear to be worthy of notice in this strange story-one is, that whenever the impostor appeared in the character of the dauphin, he was received by the people with the liveliest joy; they testified their respect for the memory of their last and beloved sovereign in the most unrestrained manner, and were in the

highest degree elated at the prospect of re-instating his immediate descendant. The next circumstance worthy of notice in the tale of this ingenious impostor is, that, notwithstanding the general and unequivocal evidence of loyalty which the people displayed, government felt itself so secure that it permitted him to run a long career: whenever he was arrested, he was arrested as a vagrant merely, and as one who had imposed on the credulity of the people; and it was not till after the officious zeal of the doting prelate was employed in devising means to marry his royal pupil to a rela tive of the royal family, till after he had resolved to make levies of men for his service, and to rescue him on the road, that the offence of the impostor was considered in a political point of view, and that government thought it prudent "to make him disappear.'

We must not conclude our account of these amusing and lively volumes, without noticing the very zealous and gallant defence which Kotzebue has volunteered in favour of that calumniated beauty, Madame Recamier. Kotzebue was upon terms of intimacy with this celebrated lady, during his residence at Paris. He assures us that her moral character is pure and spotless; that she is a woman of great benevolence and sensibility; that she is affectionate, charitable, unassuming; and that she is not less to be admired for the various excellencies which enrich her mind, than for the con summate beauty of her person.

THE volumes now before us contain an account of Mr. Yorke's journey from Calais to Paris, and a description of the manners and public establishments in that capital; together with anecdotes of some of the most celebrated actors in the revolution, both natives and foreigners. These topics have already been treated of by so many writers, that it would be unreasonable to look for much novelty of matter. A just and philosophical estimate of the effects of the revolutionary changes which France has undergone, is indeed an important desideratum; but we are inclined to believe that few per sons will consider this want as in any

material degree supplied by the present publication.

Mr. Yorke complains in his preface, that, in consequence of his former poli tical connexions, "the unforgiving hand of proscription still weighs heavily upon him in despight of every gratuitous concession, of recantation, public, solemn and uninvited, of seven years of disinterested and ardent zeal in the cause of his king and country." We are of opinion that he will not greatly add to his stock of loyal merit by the long details of his interviews in Paris with Thomas Paine and Joel Barlow; and by his boast that he refused the offer of an