The differences with Portugal in 1801 afford. not dismiss or disgrace, he removed by advanceed him a safe opportunity to indulge his new- meat into distant provinces, or sent them with born ambition for military honours and exploits. liberal pensions to reside in the country. He Accordingly, at the commencement of the cam- observed the same conduct with regard to the paign, he boldly took the command, well in- offices of the ministers of state; where the most formed that the Portuguese had no means of re inferior clerks, messengers, and attend.nts, as sistance against the forces with which they were well as the chief secretaries, all are indebted to assailed by France and Spain at the same time. him for their places. Such is his jealousy and This generalissimo had never even witnessed an precaution, that nobody is admitted to the preengagement; and, from the nature of his educa-sence of their Spanish Majesties, who has not tion, could have but a slight idea, if any, of the previously asked and received his approbation theory of military tactics.

Perhaps there is not to be found, among the many incapable members of the cabinets of most Princes of Europe, a person inferior in talent, or any mental acquirements, to the Prince of Peace. But the exclusive favour of the Queen, who has procured him the favour of the King, supplies all defects, overlooks all errors, and bestows all advancements. His abilities are the object of universal ridicule among the enlightened men of Spain, and his character is very much despised by the ancient and more respectable part of the nobility. In opposition to their wishes, and to counteract their jealousy, he has made a vast addition of upstarts, like himself, to the noblesse of Spain. No man of learning has ever experienced his patronage, no merit has ever obtained his rewards, and no patriotism his protection. He is entirely surrounded by his own creatures, among whom there is not one of reputed or even common capacity.

In providing for his relations, however, he has been nearly as extravagant as Napoleon Bonaparte. Every person who can claim the least affinity to him, either direct or indirect, lineal or collateral, is sure of a good place, whatever his abilities may be. The first offices in the country are occupied by his relations. His father, who has scarcely learnt the first elements of education, now fills one of the highest situations in Spain. His elder brother is Viceroy of Mexico and the West Indies, and his younger brother, Diego, who is almost literally an ideot, has been promoted to the rank of a captain-general in the army, with large pensions.

It has surprised many that the Prince of Peace, with all his numerous deficiencies, has been able to preserve himself so long in favour at a court, which for centuries has furnished, by the capricious inconstancy of its choice with regard to favourites, materials both for romances and ales, for history, and for the drama. But during the first warmth of the friendship of the King, and of the attachment of the Queen, he took care to clear the court, from the first lord in waiting down to the lowest valet, of every person whom he suspected of envy at his elevation, or whose fidelity he doubted. Those he could er dared

and consent. Like all other ignorant people he is governed by prejudices, and tormented by illiberal and supersutious notions. Every body who is not born a Spaniard he despises; and hose who are not members of the Church of Rome, he hates under pretence of pitying them He thinks that all valour, honour, and virtue, on the other side of the Pyrennean Mountains are artificial; and that all religion, not acknowl dging a Roman Pontiff for its visible ief, and the Vicar of Christ upon earth, is not only condemnable and dangerous, but fals. He makes no distinction bet en the faith of the Protestant, or the creed of the Mussulmin. In his opinion they are both infidels, an as such, undeserving confidence in this world, and certain of damnation in the next.

The confessor of the King and of the Queen® is also the confessor of the Prince of Peace, who generally every Saturday (but never less than twice a month) eases the burden of his mind be fore the reverend fathe. nd receives his absolution. All persons who desire to continue in his good graces must imitate his devout example. His nurse, on whom he bestows a pension of four thousand dollars, resides with him at Madrid, as well as in the royal palaces in the country Her sole occupation is to interpret his dreams, she having, when he was a baby, from one of hers, predicted that he should become a great man! His first occupation every morning is to write down what he has dreamt in the night, and to give it to her, that he may have an explication before he goes to bed again. In his day dreams, during his nap after dinner, in the afternoon, he has no confidence nor she any power to comprehend them. He is so jealous of this precious talent, that he was near turning her off for having once gratified the curiosity of the Princess of Peace on this interesting subject.

His annual revenue, from his numerous places and pensions, and from the many estates given him by royal bounty, amounts to five hundred and fifty thousand dollars, about one hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds. But as he is the master of the royal treasury, no other boundary is set to his expences or cupidity, but his own discretion. He is supposed to have placed

ORIGINAL COMMUNICATIONS.

CAMIRE.

AN AMERICAN TALE.

I was one day reproaching a Spaniard, lately arrived from Buenos-Ayres, with the cruelties which his countrymen had committed on their first conquests in America. I recalled to mind, with horror, the crimes which had tarnished the glory of a Cortez, a Pizarro, and many other heroes who have, perhaps, by their talents and valour, surpassed all that we admire in the ancients; and regretted, that so glorious an epocha in the Spanish history should be recorded on blood-stained pages.

My friend had hitherto listened to me with patience; a tear rolled down his cheek when 1 pronounced the name of Las-Casas. He is

our Fenelon," exclaimed he," he did not compose Telemachus, but he explored America to save a few Indians; and traversed the seas to defend their cause at the council of Charles the Fifth, as the Archbishop of Cambray did that of the Protestants, whom the French also massacred in the Cevennes. They were still persecutors at the end of Louis the Fourteenth's reign and what were we? What was Europe in the 16th century ever to be commemorated by our great discoveries, by the flourishing state of the fine arts in Italy, by the new sects in Germany, and by the crimes of every country? Our neighbours, the Portuguese, put to the sword those they conquered on the coast of Malabar, on the borders of Ceylon, in the promontory of Malacca. The Dutch, who drove them away, were not less cruel. In Sweden, the Northern Nero, and the Archbishop of Upsal, were assassinating the senators and citizens of Stockholm. In London the pile was lighted for the Lutherans and Catholics; and the scaffold was already erected which was to be sprinkled with the blood of four Queens.* At Paris, you doubtless remember the name of the Guises, and the horrid sight of the 24th of August, 1572. I will say no more, let us not reproach each other: we have all been barbarians, but leave to history the melancholy employment of recording the crimes of our forefathers, and let us, if possible, only recall to our minds their good deeds, and endeavour to imitate them. You have repeated to me the

terrific detail of the conquest of Peru: I was but too well acquainted with it; allow me to relate to you, in my turn, the manner in which we acquired Paraguay. This recital will be less irksome, and may, perhaps, inform you of some circumstances which are not related in history.

Not knowing well how to answer, I determined to listen; and the Spaniard commenced in the following words:

Travellers have made the world acquainted with that extensive and delightful country, situated between Chili, Peru, and the Brasils. The gold and silver mines which it contains are the least of its treasures. The mildness of its climate, the fertility of its lands, the majestic course of its rivers, its immense forests, the productions of Europe united with those of America, the abundance of its fruits and of every useful animal, make the inhabitants of Paraguay enjoy, almost without cultivation, all the gifts which nature has shared among the rest of the world. Sebastien Cabot was the first who explored it, in the year 1526, while sailing up the river which he called Rio de la Plata. The bars of silver, which the natives offered the Spaniards, soon attracted other navigators. Buenos-Ayres was built, some fortifications were erected in the interior of the country; and, at last, a settlement was formed at a place called the Assumption, on the borders of the river Paraguay.

The natives, at the sight of our soldiers, had abandoned their country, particularly the Guaranis, a numerous and powerful people, who Aed amidst inaccessible mountains, the roads to which were totally unknown to us. Several detachments had endeavoured to penetrate into them, but our warriors perished in the attempt, either through hunger or the arrows of the savages. Thus all communication was shut be tween the Spaniards and the Guanaris; the lands remained in their uncultivated state; and the colony, reduced to ask succour of Europe, could not prosper.

It was in this unhappy situation, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, when Don Fernando Pedreras was sent there as governor. A man of his character was not fit to recall the

Anna Bullen, Catherine Howard, Jane Grey, Guaranis; the haughty and tyranical Pedreras

and Mary Stuart.

wished that every one should bow beneath his

laws. Proud of his authority, and incited by the desire of augmenting his wealth, avarice and pride were the sole inmates of his heart. He was soon detested by the colonists; and the few Indians, who now and then brought provisions, soon totally disappeared to join the Guaranis.

Amongst the last missionaries arrived at BuenosAyres was an old Jesuit, called Father Maldonado. Never did there exist a worthier priest, nor did the word of God issue from purer lips.

It was neither ambition nor remorse that had led him to seck the sanctuary of the cloister. Maldonado, pious from his infancy, endowed by nature with a mild and tranquil soul, only alive to benevolence, and who only sought for peace and virtue, had taken the vows at the age of eighteen, to enjoy the one, and preserve the other. From that moment his life had been devoted to the relief of humanity, in seeking the unfortunate, as an affectionate heart seeks for friends. Rich in the possession of a considerable patrimony, he had dissipated it little by little in sharing it with the afflicted; and at the age of sixty he perceived he had nothing remaining, and then begged of the King to send him to America. "I have nothing more to bestow," said he: "let me quit a country where I behold my fellow-creatures in want; at Peru every one possesses gold, but they know not the gospel, 1 will preach it to them, and it is a rich treasure I shall distribute among them.

On his arrival at the Assumption, Father Maldonado was astonished to find, instead of the Indians he came to convert, nothing but christians, who stood greatly in need of consolation. He was the more zealous; hastened to visit the colonists, and found the means of gaining their confidence, listened to their complaints, relieved them, and became their advocate towards their inflexible governor. The good Jesuit was blessed by all, and even respected by Pedreras, who since his arrival had displayed less tyranny, for it is in the nature of virtue, and perhaps its recompence, to render better all those who approach it.

knees, and fixing his eyes upon him, his counte nance seemed to express piety, affection and despair, he pronounced a few words in a faultering voice, which the Jesuit could not understand, the language being unknown to him, but which did not the less affect the worthy father. He raised the child and allowed himself to be led towards the body, which he examined and found perfectly cold and lifeless. The unhappy boy contemplated the Jesuit, attentively watched all his motions, and continued to speak to him in his unintelligible tongue; but when he comprehended by Maldonado's gestures that all hope was fled, he threw himself on the dearl body, kissed it a thousand times, tore his hair, then suddenly starting up rushed precipitately towards the stream.

Notwithstanding his age, Maldonado, swifter than the child, caught and held him in his arms, and forgetting that the young savage could not understand him, sought to calm his grief with consoling words. As he wept while speaking the child comprehended his meaning; returned his caresses, always pointing to the corpse, while pronouncing the name of Alcaipa, then turning towards the river, he pronounced that of Gua|| colde; he laid his hand on his heart and bent over Alcaipa, then again turned to the river and repeated several times Guacolde. Maldonado who sought to read his thoughts, soon comprehended that the dead savage was his father, and was called Alcaipa; but he could not make out why the child always extended his arms towards the river, while calling on the name of Guacolde.

After several hours spent in useless efforts to engage the child to accompany him to the town, Maldonado who would not leave him, fortunately perceived a soldier passing, and desired him to ge to the Assumption and seek for assistance.

The soldier obeyed, and soon returned with the surgeon of the hospital, who examined the body and confirmed the Jesuit's opinion, that it was dead. At the entreaty of Maldonado the surgeon and soldier dug a grave in the sand, where they laid the corpse, while the good father forcibly held the boy, who redoubled his tears and lamentations.

Maldonado at last succeeded in conducting the young savage to his home; lavished on him the most soothing caresses, offered him food, and after much difficulty, prevailed on him to take a small quantity. The child did not appear insensible to his kindness; but often kissed his

One day as Maldonado was walking alone, at some distance from the town, while ascending the banks of the river, he heard screams and sobs, and distinguished on the edge of the water a naked child, violently agitated, by the side of a man who was lying on the ground. Maldonado ran towards the child; who was a boy of about twelve or thirteen; his face bathed in tears, he sobbing embraced, and endeavoured to animate the life-hands, and looking mournfully in his face, would less body of a man apparantly between thirty and forty, naked like the child; his hair wet and in disorder, and bearing on his pale face the marks of long fatigue, and a painful death.

As soon as the child perceived Maldonado, he ran to him, knelt before him and embracing his

again begin to weep. Thus he passed the night without closing his eyes. As soon as the dawn appeared, he made signs that he wished to go Maldonado opened the door and followed him. The boy bent his steps towards the spot where his father was interred. When he reached

out.