similar to that of British troops, that but for the absence of scarlet, and the tawny complexions and exuberant beards of the men, they might, without any great stretch of imagination, have been taken for a British division. Their appearance, both on parade and off duty, was admirable; in the field, as I have already mentioned, they had little opportunity given them of showing what they were made of, having been for the most part employed on garrison duty. It was said, but I know not with what truth, that the caçadore battalion had been sent into Spain to give it an opportunity of wiping off some stain it had incurred during the civil war against Don Miguel. At a subsequent period to the time I speak of, the whole division got rather roughly handled in an action with the Carlists near Arminion, a village on the Ebro, and but for the gallantry of the lancers commanded by Don Carlos de Mascarentras, and of a battalion of the Spanish regiment of Almanza, that covered their somewhat confused retreat, they would probably have come off worse than they did.

All that was later-and on the day I speak of they were smart and pimpant enough, fully meriting the epithet of finchado, which the Spaniards apply to them in ridicule of their stiffness and somewhat over attentiveness to the minutiæ of dress. The bitter feeling that is so often found to exist among nations whose proximity should make them friends as well as neighbours, is very marked between Spaniards and Portuguese, especially among military men. I had many opportunities of observing this during my rambles about the seat of war, associating alternately with officers of both nations. Portuguese, well paid and well fed, found matter for sarcasm in the scanty rations, forced economy, and often shabby uniforms of the poor Dons, who, in their turn, looked down from the height of their moral superiority upon the dapper neatness of their allies, whose gilding had not been rubbed off by the hardships of bivouacs or besmirched by the smoke of the battle.

The

Their bands, which were good, but rather too drummy even for military music, were hammering away in grand style the troops all in full dress as though for a review. I turned into a corn-field to see them pass. The

bright morning sun blazed down upon them, its rays glancing upon the steel and brass of their arms and accoutrements; the mustached, soldierlike faces of the men, cast partly into shade by the peaks of their shakos; the horses of the cavalry curveting and neighing; plumes waving, and sabres rattlingit was a pretty bit of military pageant, and I could not help acknowledging, that, on parade at least, there was little fault to be found with the heroes of Lusitania. On reaching the Prado, which was neither more nor less than a grass field overlooking the road, surrounded with a low parapet wall, and planted with some rows of trees, the troops filed in, and formed three sides of a square. To the centre of what would have been the fourth side, a guard advanced conducting a prisoner, and I now remembered having heard that a man had been sentenced to be flogged for an attempt to desert to the Carlists. The preparations for the punishment were not long in making themselves visible. A large bundle or sheaf of sticks freshly cut from the trees, about three and a-half feet long, and at the thickest end about the circumference of a man's thumb, were laid upon the ground. A number of corporals and sergeants from the different battalions left the ranks, piled their arms, and formed a line in the centre of the square. The charge against the prisoner and sentence of court-martial were read, and the poor fellow, after being stripped of jacket and shirt, was tied up to a tree, near which a drummer took his stand. The right-hand man of the line of noncommissioned officers took a stick from the bundle, and applied ten or twelve blows on the back of the deserter; then passed on, the rod being split and broken, and fell in again on the left of the floggers. As he gave his last blow, his place was taken by the next man, who delivered about the same number of cuts, and passed on in his turn, to be succeeded by another. A tap of the drum accompanied each blow, and the band played all the time; but the cries and shrieks for mercy of the sufferer were heard above the crash of the instruments.

I had witnessed punishments in our own service, but I never saw any cato'-nine tails flogging come up to the severity of this one. After, as far as I could judge, some four or five hun

dred blows, the screams of agony ceased, and it appeared to me the man became insensible, although I was afterwards assured it was not the case. The flogging continued, and the bits of stick as they broke off were wet with blood. The shoulders of the culprit were greatly swollen, and had the appearance as if a thick cushion of raw flesh had been laid upon them. However horrible the comparison may be, it is an exactly suitable one. I do not know to how many

stripes the man was sentenced, nor how many he received, for I left the scene long before it was over. At length he was unbound and carried to the hospital on a stretcher, but died a few hours after. The troops marched back to their quarters, the bands playing their national air of "Viva Dona Maria," and went to breakfast with what appetites they might. As to mine, I am not ashamed to confess, it had been completely taken away.

Some of the pleasantest hours I passed during my rambles in Northern Spain, were spent at the tertulias in various garrison and depot towns. In all those places of security there were many officers' wives residing, while their husbands were in the field, and the principal amongst them had evening meetings at their houses, to which, when once invited, a visiter was welcome so often as he thought proper to return. There is a cordiality and absence of ceremony, a franqueza (to use their own expressive word, which implies more than our frankness, or the French franchise) about Spanish hospitality, which I always thought very delightful. Hospitality it is not, according to English notions; for we in England have a good deal the habit of estimating a man's hospitality by the quantity of meat and drink he sets one down to on entering, or before leaving his house. The glass of iced water, the sweetmeats, or small xicara of chocolate, would appear sorry refreshment to those habituated to the Heliogabalian dinners and suppers, without which it is in England deemed almost impossible to assemble a party of friends.

Notwithstanding these deficiencies, the tertulias I speak of were very pleasant meetings. There is a total absence of affectation about Spaniards in general, a desire to please, and a vivacity or enjouement which does not altogether accord with the character for gravity usually attributed to them. They always appear desirous to contribute as much as in their power to the amusement of the society in which they find themselves. Of this I have seen numerous instances in their ter

tulias. Although frequently, and when the number of persons assembled is small, the evening passes in conversation, yet, when practicable, dancing, music, cards, and games of all kinds are introduced. If any one is present possessed of a talent which may be exercised for the amusement of others, he either volunteers or is called upon to exhibit it, and the call is invariably met with willingness. In five instances out of six, perhaps, an Englishman or Frenchman requested to sing or play would make more or less difficulty before complying, the former frequently from mauvaise honte, the latter from affectation or a desire de se faire valoir. Not so with the Spaniard. He takes up a guitar, sits down to the piano, or does any thing else he is asked to do, without a moment's hesitation or without a word of objection-does his best, and leaves off without the slightest feeling of wounded vanity when he sees that his efforts have ceased to amuse.

The state of things in Spain during the war, and the uncertainty of life amongst the male portion of the societies I speak of, contributed also to introduce a tone of frankness and a kind of laisser aller, not exceeding, however, the limits of decorum. Men who are here to-day and gone tomorrow, who, before another sun has set, may be called into the field to meet a sudden and honourable death, feel a natural desire to extract the most real enjoyment possible from the short span of life that, for aught they know, awaits them. Time becomes too precious to be sacrificed to the paltry gratifications of vanity.

Many marriages arose out of these tertulias, or at least were projected;

for during the war not many parents were willing to expose their daughters to become widows almost as soon as they were brides. Nor is it to be supposed that the taste for intrigue, which forms so marked a trait of the Spanish character, remained dormant. On the contrary, many piquant and sometimes romantic incidents enriched the chronique scandaleuse of Spanish garrisons during the late civil war. One anecdote of a somewhat tragical nature I will relate.

In a large fortified town of old Castile was residing a young and handsome woman, the wife of an old officer of dragoons. The husband, who was some thirty years older than his wife, had shared the triumphs and reverses of the Peninsular war, from Baylen and Ocaña to the final expulsion of the French; and had also distinguished himself against the Carlists -but all his services had only obtained for him the rank of captain. His squadron formed part of a division operating in Navarre and Castile, and he had left his lady, Dona Euphrasia, for safety in the fortress alluded to. Her beauty was not long in procuring her many admirers, but none appeared to be listened to with any degree of favour, until a young colonel on the staff arrived in the town. Still the mest scandal-loving could find little to say against her conduct, and were fain to content themselves with supposing and hinting what they could neither prove nor dared openly assert. Some one of those kind friends, ever ready to carry bad news, informed the husband of the rumours abroad on the subject of Dona Euphrasia's conduct, adding, that her admirer was in the habit of visiting her every evening that she did not spend at the tertulia, to which they both belonged. The old officer was of a fierce and jealous disposition, and painfully alive to the disparity of years between himself and his wife. He immediately applied for a few days' leave of absence; but the division was on the eve of active operations, his corps was short of officers, and his demand was refused. The passion of jealousy, however,

was stronger in his breast than old habits of discipline and obedience, and the same night he left his regiment without permission.

Late on the evening of the second day, he pulled up his horse at the door of the house inhabited by Dona Euphrasia, and, dismounting, hastily ascended the stairs. His wife's apartment consisted of three rooms, leading one into the other, and with but one entrance-door for all three. This door was fastened, but opened to his summons after a moment's delay, and his wife threw herself into his arms. She was pale, and there was some agitation visible in her manner, but that might be attributed to joy at his return. The officer extricated himself from her embrace, and passed on to the second room, and then to the third, where he seated himself, and remained for some minutes, replying, with an absent air, to Dona Euphrasia's enquiries as to the cause of his sudden arrival. During this time, his eyes wandered restlessly round the apartment, as though in search of something that their owner felt sure of ultimately finding. Suddenly his attention seemed fixed by a large matting that was usually laid down in the centre of the room, but was now rolled up in an alcove. He turned his eyes to his wife's countenance. Her pale face grew yet paler under his keen searching gaze.

"Que Demonio!" exclaimed he with a sardonic smile, "you have still that old matting here? I am weary of the sight of it."

And in an instant, and before his horror-stricken wife could divine his purpose, or interfere to prevent it, his sabre was drawn and passed thrice through the matting. A deep groan was heard, the stream of blood passed through the woven reeds and ran over the floor. The lady fell senseless to the ground.

Three hours afterwards the old officer rede into the Carlist lines as a deserter. The following day the body of Colonel P. was privately interred, and Dona Euphrasia entered a con

vent.

By the condition of his office, the Professor of Political Economy at Oxford is bound to publish some portion of the lectures which, in the discharge of his public duties, he has delivered to the University. To this regulation the public have been in debted already for some lucid and beautiful disquisitions of Mr Senior; and the lectures now before us, which owe their origin to the same cause, will not, most undoubtedly, diminish their sense of its beneficial consequences. They contain a valuable accumulation of important facts, collected with much industry, arranged with admirable method, stated with great perspicuity, and reasoned upon with unusual sagacity, and still more unusual candour. It is not, we think, a little to the credit of Mr Merivale and the opinion derives strength from the many examples to the contrary which may be found among modern writers that he has not aspired to be "plus sage que les sages," that, without neglecting theory, he has appealed to fact, that, instead of propounding crude notions with dogmatical conceit, he has kept his sounding-line in his hand, and heaved the lead repeatedly in the course of his adventurous, but well-considered voyage.

That modesty which is the best result of extensive learning, joined to a manly confidence in his own unbiassed and enlightened judgment, combine to render this work an admirable model of the principles which should be the guide of such investigations, as well as of the research and ability which Mr Merivale has proved to be consistent with the other less brilliant, but not less solid and useful qualities to which we have alluded. In this view we would particularly recommend to the notice of those to whom the work, in the shape of lectures, was originally addressed, the diligent and attentive consideration of

this valuable treatise-cautious without timidity, learned without ostentation, refined without excessive subtlety, Mr Merivale presents a striking contrast to some of the writers which the University he belongs to and adorns has of late produced. A kind of epidemical taint seems for a season

to have poisoned the fountains of education. With a pedantry and ignorance of human affairs, which would almost disgrace a Poor-Law Commissioner at Somerset House, the works to which we allude combine a complete disregard of the most ordinary rules of grammar and composition. Every thing, we are told, answers some purpose in the economy of the universe. The only one, however, we can assign to this trash-which Grub Street, in its rudest state, would have scarcely tolerated-is that which the Lacedæmonians endeavoured to effect when they pointed to a drunken helot as the most effectual safeguard against intoxication. We hail, therefore, with great delight, the proof which this work affords, that sounder and healthier principles float in the atmosphere of Oxford; and we will, without further preface, lay before our readers a summary of its contents, with such remarks as they have suggested to us. Perhaps, to a general student, the sketch of the actual and past condition of European colonies will be found the most attractive. It is, we think, impossible even for the most superficial reader to peruse this account without interest and instruction. Whatever difference of opinion may exist on the more abstruse topics which Mr Merivale examines, there can be none as to the diligence, skill, and judgment with which this part of his task has been accomplished.

In his review of the state of Spanish colonies, Mr Merivale, after describing the conduct of the Spanish towards the aboriginal inhabitants, which, when the first fury of conquest had overpast, he agrees with Keeren in considering as more humane than that of any other European government, proceeds to give the following account of their commercial policy:

"The traffic of the mother country was

confined, at first, to the single port of

Seville; afterwards to that of Cadiz. It was under the control of a board, termed the Casa de Contratacion,' which was subjected to the direct government of the crown. Two squadrons were annually dispatched the galleons, usually about twelve in number, to the port of Carthagena in South America; the

'flota,' of about fifteen, to Vera Cruz in Mexico. It was the great amount of business, relatively speaking, carried on by those few vessels, and the sudden activity communicated to commerce during the brief transactions which supplied the wants of a whole continent all the trade of the empire collected as it were in one focus-which dazzled the eyes of European observers, and occasioned the most fallacious ideas respecting the amount of annual exchanges actually made. The

Spaniards, it is observed by A. Smith and

by Robertson, while they tried almost every other nostrum of colonial policy, never adopted the system of confining their trade to an exclusive company. But, as Heeren remarks in answer, the monopoly of a few rich houses at Seville was naturally produced by these restrictions, and a virtual company, though not so designated by law, was in fact instituted; and Humboldt bears witness that a similar monopoly was practically established in Mexico by a few commercial houses, which bought up and retailed the imports.* Thus, while the Americans had to buy the goods of the mother country, or those which the importers had purchased from abroad, at a price far exceeding their values, the benefit of this monopoly was reserved to a small and privileged class alone. But, in fact, the trade of the flota and galleons was SO utterly inadequate to supply the wants of so vast a population, that, until the operations of the smuggler began to redress the evil, it was almost destitute of European commodities.

"In connexion with the restrictions on foreign trade, not only the settlement, but the visits, of all foreigners were prohibited more strictly than in China or Japan. The punishment of the strangers who were found in the colonies was at first death-in later times, perpetual imprisonment. Spaniards themselves might not visit them without royal license, and this was usually only granted for a limited time, unless in the case of those who went out to hold government offices. Even as late as the middle of the eighteenth century, the landing of a Boston vessel on the desolate island of Juan Fernandez to refit, and the appearance of an English whaler in the South Seas, were occurrences of sufficient importance to require a long report from the viceroy of Peru, and the reprimand or cashiering of several officers.

"Internal commerce between the provinces, to complete the picture, was prohibited almost as effectually as foreign trade,"

*

VOL. LII. NO. CCCXXII.

He then gives an account of their political condition. The ruling principle of Spain in the government of her dependencies was jealousy-her single object was the maintenance of her authority. For this purpose a machinery was employed so complicated and intricate as to clog even the ordinary motions of government, and tion of strength impracticable. Every to make any sudden or violent exerthing that could tend to activity or independence-education, enterprise, study, were sedulously discouraged. The picture drawn by Humboldt is a decisive proof of the extent to which this system had been carried :—

"Les lois Espagnoles défendent l'entrée dans les possessions Américaines, à tout Européen qui n'est point né dans la Péninsule. Les mots d'Euro

péens et d'Espagnols sont devenus synonymes au Mexique et au Pérou; aussi les habitans des provinces éloignées ont de la peine à concevoir qu'il y ait des Européens qui ne parlent pas leur langue : ils considèrent cette ignorance comme une marque de basse extraction, parce qu'autour d'eux il n'y a que la dernière classe du peuple qui ne sache pas l'Espagnol. Connoissant plus l'histoire du seizième siècle que celle de nos temps, ils s'imaginent que l'Espagne continue à exercer une prépondérance prononcée sur le reste de l'Europe. La Péninsule leur paroît le centre de la civilisation Européenne."

The Spanish provinces were divided into nine governments, five of which were within the torrid zone, viz., the viceroyalties of New Granada and Peru, and the "Capitanias Generales" of Guatimala, Porto Rico, and the Caraccas. The four others, the viceroyalties of Mexico and Buenos Ayres, the Capitanias Generales of Chili and the Havannah, in the last of which the Floridas were included, were beyond the tropics or in the temperate zones.

The great division of the inhabitants was into the pure and mixed races or castes. The shades of this mixture were marked in the language of the colonist with the most accurate precision that European vanity could suggest. Seven-eighths of these castes in New Spain consisted of the mestizos, sprung from the white (Creole or European) and the copper