time, and then to have been put on shore at a different point. But this was not done ; and though the Baron was told that the police were on the look-out for two strangers who were expected to land, and Sir George Cockburn thought it might be more prudent to choose another point of the coast, our bero inflexibly persisted in adhering to his first orders. On his arrival at Paris, he contrived to make another worthy acquaintance in the Sieur Richard, ' whom,' he says very frankly, I was weak enough to believe a man of honour,

because his previous conduct had been honourable.' That is to say, be had served, or said he had, under the Prince de Talmont. To this man, whom there is some reason to suspect to have been a spy of the police, be disclosed so much of his project as led to the supposition that it involved an attempt on the life of Bonaparte.At length, the day before the Baron intended to set out for Valençay, when, all confidence and security, he had just given the faithful Richard 2700 francs to make some purchases, in Paris, a, knocking was heard at the door, and on its being opened, eleyen armed emissaries of the police entered, and took them both into custody. De Kolli, on being asked who he was, immediately confessed the nature of his mission; as uperfluous disclosure, as it afterwards appeared, and, under the circumstances, a very indiscreet one. It is easy to perceive that the Baron was proud of his commission, and that vanity had some share in inducing him to repeat his answer aloud. The trusty Secretary contrived to be out of the way, informed, there can be little doubt, of the intended visit; for he does not appear to have been molested." De Kolli in his first examination, waş led, he distinctly admits, without perceiving it, to answer questions he had previously determined to evade completely. The method of interrogation, he, complains, jumbled all his ideas. Once, however, he sufficiently regained his self-possession, to give a directly, false answer, in a matter, it seems to us, not worth the poor stratagem of a lie. It was subsequently proposed to him by Fouché, still to complete his mission to Ferdinand, under the sanction of

the French police, that they might know whether the King had any wish to make bis escape.

• I should have an opportunity of seeing the prince, and hearing from his own mouth an admission or, a disavowal, of the interest which the King of England expressed to him in his letter ; and if, in spite of the reasons which led them to imagine one rather than the other, the prince consented to seize the opportunity of escaping, in that case only slight impediments would be thrown in the way of his flight; and that then would be the time to avail myself of the funds placed to his credit.'


This insidious proposal the Baron rejects with high-minded indignation ; upon which he is taken back to the Donjon of Vincennes, and the Sieur Richard consents to go as his counterfeit. The sequel may be given in the words of Bonaparte, as reported by Mr. O'Meara. The subject of Baron Kolli and Ferdinand being one day introduced,

• Kolli,' said he, was discovered by the police, by his always drinking a bottle of the best wine, which so ill corresponded with his dress and apparent poverty, that it excited a suspicion among some of the spies, and he was arrested, searched, and his papers taken from him. A police agent was then dressed up, instructed to represent Kolli, and sent with the papers taken from him to Ferdinand, who, however, would not attempt to effect his escape, although he had no suspicion of the deceit passed upon him.'

The reception which the pseudo-Baron met with is thus described by M. de Berthemy, the governor of Valençay.

• Richard having been introduced into the castle, placed himself in a gallery which led to the royal apartments. Deceived by a guilty conscience, Richard saw the Infant Don Antonio coming out : he imagined that prince was the king, and shewed him some trifles. His royal highness examined them, and put some questions to him, about turnery work, listened with indulgence to his upconnected gossip, and perceiving an extraordinary confusion in the man, endeavoured to read through his dull countenance. His royal highness was about to retire, when the pretended merchant declared himself an envoy from the British government to effect his majesty's Escape, and that he had letters of king George to deliver to his majesty.... His royal highness cast a significant look at him, withdrew without paying the least attention to what he said, and immediately informed the king of the circumstance. His majesty sent his usher shortly after to complain of this audacity, and requested me to dismiss the wretch.'

De Kolli was for four years imprisoned au secret at Vincennes; he was then transferred to Saumur, and the ominous order had been received for his being sent, under proper escort, with seven other state prisoners, to Fontainebleau, when the entry of the Allies into Paris occasioned his liberation. The narrative of his imprisonment, his escape and re-capture, and his subsequent adventures, is highly interesting, and forms the best apology for the publication. Its disclosures cartainly reflect no credit on the wisdom of his employers ; but they place in à still stronger light, the unprincipled character of his persecutors, their meanness, shameless dishonesty, and sanguinary inclination.

We have no room left to notice the Memoirs of the Queen of Etruria. They were addressed by the royal Authoress, to

the Allied Powers, in 1814, in vindication of her own rights and those of her son, to the dutchy of Parma, Placentia, and Guestalla. They are brief and not uninteresting, though by no means deeply tragical.

A characteristic sentence occurs in the early part of the narrative. -For some time we were obliged to have recourse to the nobility, who supplied us with chandeliers, plate, and other articles equally indispensible. This was the first time that the daughter of the king of Spain, accustomed to be served in gold and silver, saw herself obliged to eat off porcelain.' p. 309.

Art. VIII. Poetical Sketches : the Profession; the Broken Heart, &c.

with Stanzas for Music, and other Poems. By Alaric A. Watts.

f.cap 8vo. pp. 148. Price 6s. London. 1823. A CURIOUS circumstance is connected with one of the poems

in this elegant little volume. On its first appearance, it was transcribed into several of our daily, weekly, and monthly journals, as the undoubted production of Lord Byron, although the Author had, it seems, inserted it in the Edinburgh Maga-' zine with his name. The


is as follows.

• Full many a gloomy month hath past,

On flagging wing, regardless by:-
Unmarked by aught, save grief-sinc

I gazed upon thy bright blue eye,

bade my Lyre pour forth for thee
Its strains of wildest minstrelsy!
For all my joys are withered now,

The hopes, I most relied on, thwarted,
And sorrow hath o'erspread my brow

With many a shade since last we parted :
Yet, 'mid that murkiness of lot,
Young Peri, thou art unforgot!
• There are who love to trace the smile

That dimples upon childhood's cheek,
And hear from lips devoid of guile,

The dictates of the bosom break;
Ah! who of such could look on thee
Without a wish to rival me!
None ;-his must be a stubborn heart,

And strange to every softer feeling,
Who from thy glance could bear to part

Cold, and unmoved-without revealing
Some portion of the fond regret
Which dimmed my eye when last we met!

• Sweet bud of Beauty !_'Mid the 'thrill

The anguished thrill of hope delayed,
Peril-and pain--and every ill

That can the breast of man invade,
No tender thought of thine and thee
Hath faded from my memory;
But I have dwelt on each dear form

Till woe, awhile, gave place to gladness,
And that remembrance seemed to charm,

Almost to peace, my bosom's sadness";
And now again I breathe a láy
To hail thee on thy natal day!
• O! might the fondest prayers prevail

For blessings on thy future years !
Or innocence, like thine, avail

To save thee from affliction's tears!
Each moment of thy life should bring
Some new delight upon its wing;
And the wild sparkle of thine eye-

Thy guilelessness of soul revealing-
Beam ever thus, as beauteously,

Undimmed-save by those gems of feelingThose soft, luxurious drops which flow, In pity, for another's woe. • But vain the thought !—It may not be !

Could prayers avert misfortune's blight,
Or hearts from sinful passion free

Here hope for unalloyed delight,
Then, those who guard thine opening bloom
Had never known one hour of gloom.
No-if the chastening stroke of Fate

On'guilty heads alone descended,
Sure they would ne'er have felt its weight,

In whose pure bosoms, sweetly blended,
Life's dearest social virtues move,
In one bright endless chain of love!
• Then since upon this earth, joy's beams

Are fading-frail, and few in number,
And melt-like the light-woven dreams

That steal upon the mourner's slumbergSweet one! I'll wish thee strength to bear The ills that Heaven may bid thee share ; And when thine infancy hath fled

And Time with woman's zone hath bound thee, If, in the path thou 'rt doomed to tread,

The thorns of sorrow lurk; and wound thee,
Be thine that exquisite relief
Which blossoms 'mid the springs of grief!

"And like the many-tinted Bow,

Which smiles' the showery clouds away,'.
May Hope-Grief's Iris here below

Attend, and soothe thee on thy way,
Till full of years_thy cares at rest
Thou seek'st the mansions of the blest!
Young Sister of a mortal Nine,

Farewell !— Perchaoce a long farewell!!
Though woes unnumbered yet be mine,

Woes, Hope may vainly strive to quell,
I'll half unteach my soul to pine,

So there be bliss for thee and 'THINE! pp: 25—29. We think that there are poems of Lord Byron's; which the Author of these stanzas may justly be deemed, capable of having composed; but it does not strike us that these are quite such as his Lordship would have written. Mr. Watts more frequently reminds his readers of Moore or Barry Cornwall. There is however, more of heart, though less of brilliancy in his lyrical poems, than in those of the former ; while he displays more purity of taste and of sentiment, if less originality than the latter. He is evidently a warm admirer of our living bards, and has perhaps formed his taste too mueh upon these imperfect models. We would recommend him to dip nearer the fountain-head. The stanzas on the death of a nephew, might have been written, and might have assumed the present form, although Leigh Hunt had never addressed his exquisite stanzas to his child; yet, the general resemblance is almost too strong to be accidental. The Writer, however, stands quite clear of plagiarism, and the poem is of so interesting a character, that we are sure we cannot say any thing in favour of Mr. Watts's volume, that shall more powerfully recommend' it to our readers, than the insertion of these stanzas. · TO THE MEMORY OF WILLIAM POWER WATTS.

• A cloud is on my heart and brow-

The tears are in my eyes,
And wishes fond; all idle now,

Are stifted into sighs -
As musing on thine early doom,
Thou bud of beauty snatched to bloom,

So soon, 'neath milder skies !
I turn—thy painful struggle past-
From what thou art, to what thou wast !
• I think of all thy winning ways,'

Thy frank but boisterous glee ;-.
Thy arch sweet smiles-thy coy delays,

Thy step, so light and free ;

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