The Abbé Costi is a phenomenon; he is eighty-four years of age, and as frolicsome as a boy of eighteen. His reputation as the first poet of Italy has long been established, and it is certain he would be now Laureate to the First Consul had it not been for his enthusiastic admiration for the principle of true liberty. We have frequently been in his company, and have always found him in the same lively humour, but it is rather unpleasant to hear him speak, as he has lost the roof of his mouth. He is endeavouring to procure a subscription for a splendid edition of his works, and proposes visiting England for that purpose. [Sidenote: DR. SUEDAEUR] Dr. Suedaeur intended to have gone to Naples and established himself there as a physician, but the sbirri of the Committee of Public Safety arrested him as he was leaving France on foot and in disguise. They gave him his choice--to go to prison and appear a day or two later before the Revolutionary Tribunal, or to be a Director of a public establishment in which some chemical operations were being carried out for the use of the armies. The doctor naturally accepted the latter. As soon as he had taken up his position in his new residence an order came that he was _never_ to go out of the house on pain of being instantly sent to prison. This was a cruel joke, as the doctor was of course virtually a close prisoner during the eighteen months he was superintending this factory. At length he was allowed to breathe the fresh air, attended by a guard, and to visit certain patients; but the guard attended him even into the chambers of the sick, even under circumstances of peculiar delicacy. Upon his presenting a remonstrance against this indecorum, he was sent straight to prison, with a promise that he should be tried with the next batch of prisoners for conspiring against the unity and indivisibility of the Republic. After keeping him in jail for some time, he was taken out of his bed at midnight, put into a hackney coach and brought back to his lodging in the Governmental establishment. The next morning, just as he was putting things there a little in order, he was again arrested and carried before the Committee of General Vigilance, of which the painter David was a present member, who, giving him one of his snarling tiger grins, asked him how he dared as a foreigner have his name inscribed at his Section. While the doctor was endeavouring to explain, David accused him of being an agent of Pitt, and he was remanded to prison. Two days later a guard took him once more to the Committee of Public Safety, who told him there had been a mistake in his affair. It was a lucky thing the mistake was discovered, as on that very morning all his fellow-prisoners were tried and found guilty of conspiring against the Republic and summarily executed. He was once again remanded to his Directorship and forbidden to leave his lodgings.