it's moral instructions, being celebrated for their integrity and worth.

Account of the resignation of Philip V.king of Spain; from the History of Spain, by the author of the History of France, in 3 vols. 8vo.

HOUGH the relief of Ceuta

TH

Spanish per

left the Spanish empire in perfect tranquillity, yet the internal regulation of it required the most strenuous exertions and unwearied application the public debt had rapidly grown beneath the profuse administration of Alberoni; while that statesman pursued his vast and visionary plans of dominion, he had totally neglected, and not unfrequently left unfilled the subordinate departments of the state; the disorders in the revenue had multiplied beyond the example of former times; and it demanded the clearest judgement and the purest integrity, to explore the crooked labyrinth of finance, to reform abuses which had been sanctioned by custom, and to redress grievances which originated in the corruption of a court. Such qualities were not the growth of the reign of Philip the Fifth. The death of the marquis of Bedmar, who had filled with ability the important trust of president of the council of the Indies, was an irreparable loss; the marquis del Campo, to whom was principally confided the superintendence of the revenue, was of a delicate constitution, and was rather occupied in administering to his own infirmities than tothose of the state: the marquis of Grimaldi alone relieved the king from part of the public burthen; but

what remained was beyond the strength of Philip; and a mind naturally prone to indolence, to st perstition, and to melancholy, was oppressed by the weight of busi

ness.

Of the different princes who Lare descended from a threne, mest tre supposed to have secretly repented of their hasty resolution; but it was in accepting a sceptre that Philip had offered violence to his own disposition. Bred up in the ostentatious school of Lewis the Fourteenth, he had been early instructed to prefer grandeur to ease; but in possession ofa crown he had experienced the fallacy of his choice. Of twenty-three years that he had reigned, eighteen had been consumed in foreign war, or domestic commotion; and the love of arms and martial glory, which to noble minds reconciles every toil and danger, was only faintly or never felt by the feeble spirit of Philip. Fanaticism mingled with indolence to embitter the cup of royalty; in the bloody and tumultuous struggle with his rival, incessant action had allowed no leisure for reflection; and the splendid hopes which the chimerical projects of Alberoni inspired, had for a moment triumphed over religious terrors. But no sooner had Philip secured the peace of his kingdom, than he trembled for the salvation of his soul. From the relief of Ceuta, two auto-da-fès, in two successive years, admonished his subjects that under the reign of a bigot it was less dangerous to revolt from their civil than spiritual allegiance; but their murmurs probably never reached the ears of their sorereign, who in the sequesteredshades of St. Ildefonso, prayed and fasted with alternate fervour.

The

The various climate which prevails between the Escurial and St. Ildefonso, though at the distance of only eight leagues from each other, probably first preferred the latter to the notice of Philip. A range of lofty mountains divides it from the sultry plains of the south; in a deep recess, and accessible only to the north wind, it enjoys the freshness, and throws forth the flowers of spring, while the inhabitants of the southern regions are exposed to the heats, and engaged in collecting the produce of autumn. It was to this cool and quiet spot that the king retired from the complaints of his subjects, and the importunities of his ministers; beneath his care the farm of Balsain arose into a palace; a chapel dedicated to St. Ildefonso changed even the ancient name of the hamlet; about six millions sterling were expended in fertilizing a barren rock; and though the palace of Ildefonso cannot vie with the proud pile of the Escurial, yet its gardens, traversed by close and gloomy walks, and refreshed by frequent fountains, present a desirable retreat from the burning rays of a summer's sun.

Here Philip fixed his residence; and here, in the vigour of his age, he determined to deliver himself from the cares of royalty, and to relinquish his crown to his son. Yet some delay was interposed by the remonstrances of the queen, and of the father d'Aubenton, the king's confessor: the latter had cherished, from the different conduct of the duke of Orleans, an idea that he would strongly disapprove the abdication of the king of Spain. He had, therefore, laboured to instil into the mind of his royal penitent, that a desertion of his regal duty was VOL. XXXVI.

a sacred offence. In a letter to the duke of Orleans, he explained the motive of his counsels. But the regent was only anxious to see his daughter on the throne of Spain. He sent the letter of the father to Philip, and d'Aubenton was not able to survive the detection of his treachery. The death of the Jesuit released the monarch from his scruples: the prince of Asturias had attained the age of eighteen; he had already been familiarized with the forms of government; and the gravity of his manners seemed to render him worthy the important trust. The queen no longer deemed it prudent to persevere in a resistance which might have exposed her to the resentment of her son-in-law. The chief object of Elizabeth had been to secure a royal inheritance for her son Don Carlos; this had been stipulated by the late peace : and the death of Cosmo of Medicis, with the shattered constitution of his impotent successor, promised soon to gratify her wishes, in the possession of the duchy of Tuscany. Thus circumstanced, she yielded to the inclinations of her consort, and consented to renounce the tumultuous grandeur of a crown, and to confine her future views to the aggrandizement of her son.

It was in the twenty-fourth year of his reign, and in the fortieth of his age, that Philip formerly announced his intentions to his people; the instrument of his renunciation was intrusted to the marquis of Grimaldi, and was by that nobleman publicly read in the Escurial. It stated that, desirous of rest after a turbulent reign of twenty-three years, and anxious to employ the remainder of his life in preparing for a spiritual crown, Philip resigned T

his

his temporal one to his eldest son Lewis, and transferred to him the allegiance of his subjects; it named at the same time a council of state, to assist the inexperience of the young monarch; and it concluded, with providing a proper subsistence for himself and his consort, in the retreat he meditated.

This extraordinary scene, which recalled to the minds of the hearers the abdication of Charles the Fifth, was attended by the same external marks of regret, that had accompanied the resignation of that monarch; but when the first impressions of surprise had subsided, the Spaniards could not but be sensible to the different situation and conduct of those two princes. Charles had advanced his country to the highest pitch of grandeur and prosperity; and it was not until a long series of illustrious atchievements and stubborn toils had matured his glory, and broken his constitution, that he resigned a sceptre which his arm could no longer wield with vigour. He retreated to the condition of a private gentleman, and a stipend of a hundred thousand crowns, or about twelve thousand pounds a year, was all that he reserved for the support of his family, and the indulgence of beneficence; in the monastery of St. Justus he buried every ambitious thought, and he even restrained his curiosity from enquiring respecting the political situation of Europe. But the age of Philip was that when the mind and body possess their fullest powers; whatever activity he had displayed, had been in support of his personal interests; nor had he earned his discharge from the cares, by having laboriously fulfilled the duties of

royalty; his abdication was the result of a degrading indolence, and a narrow superstition; in the palace of Ildefonso he preserved the revenue, though he abandoned the functions, of a king; the annual payment of a million of crowns, or one hundred and twenty thousand pounds sterling, was severely felt, and the sum that he was reported to have privately transported to his retreat was loudly resented by the people.

Account of the Baschkirs, from Pallas's traveis, among the Kalmucs and Tartars.

THESE people differ from other

For

nomades in inhabiting, during the inclement season, solid houses constructed of wood, after the manner of the Russians. the supply of the pressing wants of their flocks, they collect hay, which they put in heaps round some large trees. Their houses are generally small, and their chambers, like those of the Tartars, are furnished with large benches, which serve instead of beds. The principal utensil, scen in the Baschkir huts, is a pretty tall leathern bottle, of the form of a flaggon, rested on a wooden foot, and constantly full of sour milk. While their cattle furnish milk, and they have good provision of honey, they live joyously, and drink nothing but sour milk or hydromel: but, as they seldom clean their vessels, one may easily conceive the odour issuing from this inexhaustible bottle. winter, and on their journey, they supply the defect of their usual beverage by little cheeses made with

In

very sour milk, and smoke-dried, which they crumble between their fingers, and infuse in water. They also drink, in spring, the sap of the birch, which they collect by means of deep incisions in the trees; which practice kills a great number of the trees. Their most common nourishment is a very thin meat-broth, which they pour from large spoons, part in their mouths, and part on their beards. They sow, indeed, a little corn, but scarce enough for their small consumption. While they are able to keep horses and bees, and can please themselves with an indolent life, it is not to be expected that they can be made tillers of the ground. Bread is not of daily use with them. A Baschkir woman kneads, with unwashed fingers, a cake, with water, and a little salt, and buries it in hot ashes on the hearth; it is then stuck on a stick, and held before the fire to make a crust.

The Baschkirs have been long without Khans, and all their nobility have been gradually destroyed in the civil wars. At present, every tribe or Wolost chuses from itself one or more ancients or Starchini, The nation composes thirty-four Wolosts, wherein were reckoned, in 1770, 27,000 families. Their language is a Tartar idiom, differing much from that spoken at Kasan.

As to military service, they themselves chuse the chiefs, and the of ficers of the small troops: but the regimental chiefs, called Attamans, are named by the Russian commanders, from amongst the most meritorious of the Starchinis. Their usual arms are a bow, arrows, a lance, a coat of mail, and a casque: but

many are armed with sabres, fusils, or pistols, and some with all these.. They are very well mounted, are good horsemen, and excellent ar chers; whence a small troop of Baschkirs is not only sure to obtain the victory over a much greater, number of Kirgisians, but a single, regiment of Baschkirs often makes long marches in the midst of a Kir gisian horde without ever being. beaten. A corps of Baschkirs offers several singularities. Every horseman dresses himself as he pleases, or as he can; all, however, wear long clothing. Each has a led horse, which he keeps for the battle, and which carries his provisions, consisting chiefly in well-dried corn, which they grind to meal in hand-mills carried with them. Each troop of a hundred carries a standard of various colours, which differ from each other in every regiment as much as the arms do. They preserve no order in marching, and it is only when they halt, that they observe any appearance of ranks and files.

The Baschkirs live in huts in winter, and in moveable jourts ** in summer. In the choice of situ-. ations for winter villages, they pay more regard to the fertility of the soil, than to the proximity of water, snow serving them in that respect. A village contains from ten to fifty huts; an encampment is only from five to twenty jourts; so that a large winter village divides into several summer camps. Though the winters here are long and rigorous, the Baschkirs leave their cattle entirely to their own discretion. These unfortunate animals are reduced to scratch up, from beneath the snow,

some withered and frozen herbs, or a little moss. The masters only furnish a little hay to their weakly beasts, and to those which bring forth out of season. As to their camels, which in like manner they oblige to provide their own subsistence, they wrap them in old felt coverlets, which thew sew about their bodies. Hence all their cattle are dismally lean and meagre toward spring; but, in the summer, they are not only healthy, but fat. In order to profit of the milk, they tie, during the day, their soals and calves to cords stretched near the jourts, and suffer them to run with their dams only during night. They have observed that the young, brought up thus sparingly, support much better the severity of the win ters, than those which are indulged with all the mother's milk.

Both sexes wear shirts, which are usually of coarse cloth of nettles, long and large drawers, and buskins or slippers. A woman's gown is of fine cloth or silk stuff, buttoned

before, and tightly bound round the body with a girdle. The neck and breast are covered with a kind of net, garnished with pieces of money. The Baschkirs are more gross, negligent, and slovenly in their manner of living and commerce than the Kasan Tartars, but they are also more hospitable, lively, and joyous, especially in summer. They make no account of carriages, but both men and women love to ride on horseback, and take

pride in fine horses and rich housings. The saddles for the women are distinguished from those which the men use by handsome and larger coverings. A saddled horse is com monly seen before every jourt. The habit which they have contracted of being constantly either on horseback, or seated on their hams, makes nearly all the men crook-kneed. They sleep at night with their clothes on, lying on felts; whence they are rarely without vermin, especially as they use fewer ablutions than other Mohammedans. Old age without reproach is greatly esteemed among them, acccording to the oriental custom; and, when they invite their friends to a feast, they promise to seat them among the old men.

There