The Chevalier de Grammont, who had himself been a prisoner, and others, who had shared the same fate, recognized the prince, chiefly by the minute details which he gave them of every chamber, door, window, and article of furniture which it contained; the particulars of which are imprinted on his memory.

Others, perhaps, with more show of reason, have affirmed that the history wants that confirmation of dates, names, and places, so desirable for the elucidation of the truth; and we frankly confess that it would have given us greater pleasure in the perusal of the Memoirs, if it had possessed these minutiæ, some of which we have now supplied.

Nevertheless, we think that when it is considered that the personal narrative of the prince was composed from memory, in a foreign country, under circumstances the most disadvantageous, it might be expected that some passages should be obscure, from a deficiency of those links in the chain of the narrative, which, if they could have been supplied, would have imperceptibly carried the mind forward to the reception of the whole.

Then, again, it must be borne in mind, that many names, places, and incidents were suppressed, because the work was not intended to reveal to his adversaries the proofs on which he relied, but was written in self-defence, pending the process before the tribunal of Paris. For the banishment of the prince did not of itself prevent the carrying on of the process which he had begun, for the purpose of establishing his rights but the cessation of the suit was effected by an illegal and tyrannical control exerted over his advocates, who were forbidden to plead in the cause.

But who can believe, others object, that Louis XVIII. would have succeeded to the crown, if his nephew had been living? He had too much regard for his brother and his family, to have usurped a throne which did not belong to him. Alas! there are too many instances in history to allow us to suppose such a case impossible; and there is too much evidence in the instance before us, tending to shew that the desire of reigning was paramount in the mind of the Count of Provence.

What can we understand from his secret correspondence with Robespierre, a wretch who declared in his last struggle for supremacy,

that at his death certain* secrets would be disclosed, and added,- -" Si les mains perfides qui dirigent la rage des assassins ne sont pas encore visible, je laisserai au temps lesoin de lever le voile qui les couvre :" What are we to infer from the large pension which Louis XVIII. gave to this monster's sister?

Far from enjoying the confidence of the King, the Count of Provençe was looked upon as an accomplice in the revolution ; and from the testimony of Louis XVI's private secretary, it appears that he feared him more than the republican conspirators.

We learn from history, that in July, 1792, the Counts of Provence and Artois had endeavoured to persuade Louis XVI. to make the former Regent of the Kingdom, and sign a declaration to that effect, under the pretext that they could then obtain troops from Austria and Prussia, to put down the revolution. This was, in fact, giving up the monarchy to him.

But these Courts were subsequently informed of the conspiracy of the Count of Provence, by memoirs addressed by Louis XVI. to them, and sent by the Baron de Breteuil, who alone enjoyed the confidence of the King.

The conduct of Austria and Prussia towards the two brothers subsequently to the death of Louis XVI., and more particularly towards the Count of Provence (who did not negotiate with them as Louis XVIII.), tends to confirm the supposition that they were aware of his conduct towards his brother, and of the escape of the Dauphin ; for we find that 'Monsieur,' (ANQUETIL, vol. x. p. 327-8,) when he was obliged to leave Verona, where, after the alleged death of his nephew, he was treated with distrust and contempt, went to the army of Condé, on the Rhine, and wished to be admitted to a post in the army; but the Court of Vienna refused it, neither would it allow him to remain in Germany, and he wandered from province to province, very unlike a recognized King of France, and was obliged finally to leave Saxony, by order of the Austrian Court, in January, 1799.

Again, we find that he kept concealed from Austria the attempt he had made to gain over the army of Pichegru to the royalist side; and when Pichegru (who it now appears was a friend of the Dauphin,) would have aided in the restoration of the

*ANQUETIL, Vol. x. p. 137-8.

monarchy, Austria, not being able to confide in the Count of Provence, refused to second the defection of Pichegru; a mystery which the historian (ANQUETIL, vol. x. 293) says, time only can clear up. And we think time has cleared it up. The existence of the Dauphin is the key, and the only key to this and the other mysteries of the years which immediately succeeded the death of Louis XVI. To this we may add, that George III., from some secret motive, never treated Louis XVIII. with the consideration due to a legitimate monarch, or a faithful brother.

Others have said, that they cannot be lieve that the Dauphin is alive, because if he were, his sister would acknowledge him; but in this they betray ignorance of her situation and her character, an ignorance of the facts, and a still greater ignorance of human nature. They wonder that a person who is the wife of Louis the XIXth, as he strangely calls himself, and the daughterin-law of the two kings, who are alleged to have been usurpers, should not have obtained their permission to acknowledge that they were so; for she admitted to M. de St. Didier, that she could do nothing without the consent of the King (Charles X.) and the Dauphin (now called Louis XIX.), not even give him an interview. They forget that she is a woman, whose sympathies are cold, and who was early brought up in the full belief that her brother was dead. They forget, too, that in most families, but above all, in the regal Bourbons, there exists a pride, which will bear down all other considerations; and that to acknowledge the Dauphin, would be to admit that his wife, who was only a person of the middle rank, is a princess, and his sons the heirs of the monarchy, and what would then become of the long cherished title of Henry V.? Again, there are estates, and the possession of money, involved in the question. In fact, it is a war of regal dignity, old prejudices, family pride, political dishonour, cherished expectations and self-interest, in fearful combination against the exuberance of nature. Who, then, cannot anticipate the issue?

But the Duchess has admitted that she had no certainty of the death of her brother, and we have proved the contrary. Moreover, we are bold enough to say, that the Duchess herself is a witness for the Prince. It is a familiar saying, that nature will out; and in this case, amidst all the pretension of

being satisfied of the death of her brother, and of the imposture of the claimant, nature has spoken, and though its voice be low, it is in our judgment decisive.

A portrait of the alleged impostor was presented to her by M. de St. Didier. Did she scorn it? Did she express dissatisfaction and disgust, knowing that her brother had gone to the future world, and that it was but a mockery of her feelings? No! We care not for her words, what is her action on such an interesting occasion ? She says, indeed, she sees no resemblance to her family; but that she has been informed that this person is extremely like a portrait of her mother. But what does she do? You would think, reader, that she gave back the portrait of this intriguer, and resented it as an affront. Not so—she kept it, and she put it away carefully into the drawer of her writing-table, and there she preserves it still. This one act of nature we set against a whole volume of expediency; and we have a right to say, we care not for her words, since she ventured to deny the identity of Madame de Rambaud, when she went expressly to see her, and she could have convinced herself with her own eyes; for this was the expedient of a person who showed herself ready to sacrifice the truth.*

And now we will express our surprise, that an illustrious exile, bearing so many credentials of the truth of his title, should have been allowed to dwell so long in this land, without an effort having been made by the French noblesse in England, to elucidate the truth of his claim.

Is it a matter of no consequence to them, whether Louis XVII. exists? Are they so engrossed with commerce, that all chivalrous spirit is extinct among them? Have the Counts and the barons of France been so changed into Bankers, agents de confiance, marchands de vin, purchasers of patents, and formers of Companies, that their loyalty is sunk in their love of making money? Their fathers would have died in defence of the Son of Louis Seize-but, say they, this is not his Son.

Madame de Rambaud, M. and Madame de St. Hilaire, M. Geoffroy, M. de Bremond,

* Madame de Rambaud, née de Mottet, is, we

understand, the first cousin of Lady Russell, wife of Sir Henry R. Bart., of Swallowfield, in Berkshire, and at the date of her journey to Prague was sixty-seven years of age.

M

Madame Damas, M. de Grammont, M. de St. Didier, La Comtesse de Falou, M. de Joly, and the many old servants of the king and the queen, who we admit were most competent to form a decision, are all deceivers or deceived. We insist that the Republicans, villains as they were, told the truth, and he died in the Temple. Count de Frotté is a liar; Laurenz is a liar: he was not banished to Cayenne because he gloried in the deed. Madame Simon was a mad woman. General Charette was properly shot, for he committed a fraud upon the world. The Dauphin had no signs at all upon his body, neither did he bear any likeness to his father and mother; he had no peculiar mark on his chest, nor his throat, no sign on his thigh, no scar on his eyebrow inflicted by the serviette of Simon. All these things are a delusion. Alas! better to say at once that Louis XVII. never was born. Perhaps they fear the mock court of Louis XIX., or the multitudinous espionage of Louis Philippe. But in this land they are not subject to the yoke of the taskmaster; they can meet in peace here, and adopt such measures as shall clear up the truth, and they can insist on a redress of his grievances if he be the Dauphin. It is a case in which one and all may inquire, see, and judge for themselves. And we say, by not doing so they disgrace their country and throw scorn upon their titles.

They ought to rejoice to have an opportunity of shewing their sympathy towards a king in his adversity, and pouring out their affections and their treasures in supporting the legitimacy they are sworn to defend. If they cannot give him back his throne, they may restore him to his princely rank, and that appanage which belongs to a king's son, even if it were at the sacrifice of their own fortune. It is a shame to them as lovers of justice and respecters of truth, as patriots and as men, above all as Frenchmen, who derive their rank from his ancestors, and their hope as royal legitimatists from the restoration of his line, to allow his cause to be suppressed, himself banished, and his family dependant on the precarious subsistence of a few devoted friends. We should like to see every Frenchman in the land arouse himself, and require an investigation of the matter. Let them ask of the Prince that a Court of Inquiry should be instituted from among themselves. Let them ask for his proofs and his witnesses, and resolve to act as becomes them if they be

convinced. He has courted an investigation, and could only await with complacency the result, knowing that it would be no other than a conviction that he is the veritable orphan of the Temple.

Then, indeed, may Louis Philippe yet live to regret the day he signed the "Ordonnance" for his expulsion into Britain.

He may choose to imitate the conduct of his father, but let him remember his punishment. Philippe Egalité was a regicide, yea the loudest in the National Convention in crying out for the blood of his Sovereign; "Je vote la mort." He himself has conspired against the brother, and succeeded to the throne which he abdicated; and now he would make himself an accomplice in his father's guilt by the exile of the son of that King whom his father murdered.

Providence avenged the blood of Louis Seize, and Philippe Egalité went to the scaffold.

When the Duke of Normandy left the Pier of Calais, he bowed to the Prefect, and thanked him for his attention, and turning to the spectators, we are told, he said aloud to them, Au revoir, Messieurs, Je reviendrai."

Whether this prophetic speech shall be accomplished, we know not; but of this we feel assured, that though General Hoche was poisoned that the great secret entrusted to him might not be revealed, (Anquetil, Vol. x. 371,)—though General Pichegru was strangled in the Fower by the order of Bonaparte for his affection to legitimacy— though Count de Frotté was treacherously shot by order of the same tyrant for his devotedness to the Dauphin-though Josephine died by poison lest she should disclose the truth at the very time when its disclosure was most needed-their blood, and the blood of Charette, Count Valdez, Dessault, Choppard, and hundreds of others who were friendly to the cause of the Dauphin, yea the blood of the Prince himself spilt by the assassin testifies to the truth, and cries aloud for retribution.

Already are thick storms gathering round the head of Louis Philippe-already is the nation preparing its own chastisement; and whatever may be his fate, and the fate of those beings who have more or less aided in the persecution of the Dauphin and the suppression of the truth, of this we rest satisfied, that there is no surer maxim in the divine economy than this, they that take the sword, shall perish with the sword.”

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known

Nature in her most glorious works; and wrought Bright shapes, engendered by his lofty thought. Companions meet for such a scene and hour! Each imaged his own beauty, as he stood, And mused, upon the poetry and power

Which peopled every dell, and hanging wood With delicate fancies; while the voice of fame Linked the fair prospect with Boccaccio's name. They stood awhile in silence-in the crowd,

Where man contends with man, words must have way;

Folly and Falsehood will alike be loud,

And Pleasure's torch flash back a double day: But the world was not here-and it was bliss To muse in silence 'mid a scene like this.

And then they spoke! words less of sound than soul;

Their mighty spirits grappling with high

themes

While each from each in generous rapture caught, What one had pour'd in song, and one had wrought.

What was the world to them? Its coil and care,
And vanities, and vices? They had made
A planet of their own, where all was fair,
And over which bright beams of splendour
play'd;

A foretaste of the hâlo, that would be
Wreathed round their own high brows immor-
tally!

About them all was brightness-earth and sky
Bathed in a flood of glory; not a thing
But seemed replete with light-when lo! the eye
Of the 'rapt poet saw towards them wing
A butterfly,-not in its beauty glad,
But Nature's gaudiest insect, sable-clad.
Nearer it came, and yet again more near,

Until it rested on the sculptor's brow;
Folded its wings, unconscious of the fear

Of a more common nature; and crouched low And lingeringly upon its place of rest, As though it held itself a welcome guest. A wilding fire flashed from the poet's eyeHe tore the bonnet from his lofty browThen raised his glance to the far-reaching sky; And as he yielded to his spirit's flow, Forth burst the instinctive feeling :-"Yes, I see,'

وو

He cried, "Some dear and lost one visits me! "Some mighty spirit which was not of earth,

Hath passed away to its own angel-sphereSome lofty one hath wearied of the dearth

Of light and loveliness it suffered hereI recognise the warning, and the sign, 'Tis the soul's symbol-Psyche! it was thine!" They turned away in silence to the spot

Where Florence rears her fair and queenly brow;

Man, and man's vanities, they heeded not,
A holier feeling filled their bosoms now.
And soon the withering tale of grief was said-
'Europe is one long wail-Byron is dead!"

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