deeply moved by such a reception, and I saw him more than once wipe the tears from his eyes.

The good effects of Espartero's presence in Madrid were soon apparent. Confidence returned, and in a short time we got rid of the barricades. There was more difficulty in disarming that portion of the population unfit to be trusted with arms, but this too was effected by advertising for their purchase. Thereupon musket and carbine, rifle and blunderbuss, came quickly into store. The ministry which Espartero formed did not at first give general satisfaction to the liberal party, for the political views of some of its members were at least doubtful; but soon its prompt and judicious measures won it good opinions. Its first and greatest difficulty was the Queen-mother. On this point the people would not give way, or listen to reason. A few words from Espartero had sufficed to make them remove their beloved barricades, but with respect to Maria Christina they were inexorable. Armed men beset the gates of the town and the avenues to the palace, and swore she should not depart til she had rendered an account of her stewardship, and refunded at least a part of her plunder. Night after night, and till past daybreak, Espartero and the ministers, and the veteran patriot San Miguel-who, after rendering immense services to the cause of order during the revolution, had been appointed captain-general of the province- remained at the palace, anxious to effect the departure of the Dowager Queen. But when she could have gone she would not; and when she would, it was no longer possible. At first her escape might have been managed, had she consented to go off quietly in a post-chaise, without state or many attendants. But this did not suit her. She had two enormous diligences at her daughter's palace, to convey herself and her family, her suite and her baggage. And on the night that she might have gone, she made various difficulties, like a person who was being forced to go, instead of one whose safety depended on speedy flight. She seems to have been completely infatuated, and she dallied and lingered until it was too

late. It became impossible to remove her from Madrid without a serious collision with the people. The systematic, persevering, and determined manner in which they kept watch was attributed to higher instigations than that of their ordinary chiefs. It was said, with what degree of truth it is impossible to ascertain, that they were prompted and directed by persons in authority, who thought it unfair that the cause of so much evil to Spain should be allowed to escape with her spoil to live luxuriously in a foreign land. O'Donnell was mentioned as one of those who would gladly see justice done on the unscrupulous and heartless Duchess of Rian

zares.

The character of that general renders this not unlikely; but there is no proof of it, and it is a mere report. What is certain is, that Espartero, whose fault it is to be too easy and forgiving, rather than severe and vindictive, was very desirous to get the Queen-mother away,-possibly not only out of pity and consideration for her daughter, but because he felt that her detention in Spain would be an additional embarrassment to his government. He did not conceal his opinion of her; he would not even have seen her, had she not, one night, after he had repeatedly refused her an interview, abruptly entered a room where he and the other ministers were assembled with the Queen. But he would have facilitated her departure. Amidst her delays, pretensions, and indecision, the moment passed, and even his power and influence were insufficient to secure her exit from Spain without a combat and a sacrifice of life; or, at the least, without deeply offending the people, and imperilling the tranquillity of Madrid—if not of the whole country. When things came to this, persons at the palace proposed various plans for escape in disguise. Such escape was not easy, for the people rigidly scrutinised all who left the palace, and armed parties outside the town examined every vehicle that passed. It is said that some one proposed to Christina to disguise herself as a black woman (there are a great many negresses in Madrid), and answered for her escape if she would do so, but that she refused, on account of two remark

able dimples in her cheeks, which she made sure would betray her. The poor lady begins to have more wrinkles than dimples; but she was doubtless right not to risk detection in such ignoble disguise. Her features are of course extremely well known here, and had the people caught her making off in masquerade, she certainly would not have escaped rough usage, and perhaps her life would have been sacrificed. What could her daughter then have done? Hardly have retained her throne, already slipping from under her—and her crown, whose brightness is so grievously dimmed by the humiliation her errors have brought upon her. It seems incredible that a sovereign should be found sufficiently wanting in pride to put pen to such a manifesto-I should rather say to such an apology-as was signed by Isabella II. on the 26th July last. Doubtless nothing less would do; but surely most princes-or they are meaner than the world believes them-would have preferred abdication to so humbling themselves. In that notable proclamation, she completely cried peccavi, promised better behaviour, and protested her entire adherence to Espartero's political principles. Since he has been here, her conduct towards him has been such as to make it appear miraculous how she ever managed to do without him. She constantly requires his presence, and, notwithstanding the immense deal of business he has to attend to, he is obliged to go daily to the palace. Doubtless she has not yet quite recovered from the alarm of the revolution, and looks upon Espartero as her best safeguard. I will not attribute any covert or perfidious motive to a sovereign who has suffered severely for her errors, and has pledged herself to amendment. But it would be very desirable to separate her from her mother, whose intriguing spirit will never be at rest so long as there is life in her body, and a possibility of her working evil. She continues at the palace, instead of being sent away from Madrid, and guarded in some castle or royal residence. Of course, there are difficulties in the way of removing her, and it seems cruel to separate her from her daughter, from whom, perhaps, before

long, she may be separated for ever. But the paramount consideration is the welfare of Spain; and, moreover, in reality, the links that bind the two ladies to each other are of a less tender nature than may be supposed, or would seem natural. Christina, it is well known, has never loved this daughter, whom she shamefully neglected, and, it may almost be said, wilfully corrupted, with a view to place upon her throne the Duchess of Montpensier. She has that influence over Isabella which long habit, and the ascendancy of a strong mind over a weak one, naturally give to her. And probably the Queen hangs more than ever upon her mother, now that her lover has been sent away, and her palace cleared of that crew of supple courtiers, ready for any base subserviency or corrupt complaisance, who have so long infested it. "It is absolutely necessary," the venerable San Miguel is reported one day to have said to the Queen, "that the Señor de Arana should go on a mission to Ciudad Rodrigo. There he will be very near to Portugal, and may easily pass into that country." This caused instant anxiety and alarm. "You answer to me for his life," was the reply. "It runs not the slightest risk," said the old general, and so the thing was arranged. The favourite departed, and is perhaps already as completely forgotten by the person most interested in retaining him here as he appears to be by everybody else. He is not likely to be recalled, so long as Espartero is in power, and it is to be hoped he will not be replaced. The clearance of the court was left for the Duke de la Victoria, who assumed the office of governor of the palace, and speedily dismissed the titled and embroidered, but impure, crowd that haunted its halls and avenues.

Availing myself of the roving and desultory license conceded to the letter-writer, I step back a few weeks to note some small but not uninteresting circumstances, which I find I have omitted to mention. When O'Donnell's outbreak occurred, not only were the civil guards removed from their duty on the roads and concentrated in the capital, and at other points, to act in bodies as troops

against the insurgents and against the people, but the numerous police of Madrid became too much engrossed by their political avocations to heed the ordinary objects of their solicitude. The proper regulation of the streets was neglected, and a prodigious swarm of beggars, emerging from their habitual lurking-places, spread itself over the town. The streets were infested by the most revolting deformities. The least disagreeable section of the mendicant mob was that consisting of the blind men, who, always numerous in Madrid, were now apparently in redoubled strength. There is an independent spirit amongst these ciegos, and they seldom beg, but poke their way about with a big stick, or are led by a friend, and sell newspapers, flying sheets, and extraordinary supplements. Since the revolution there has been much work for them, and from seven in the morning until late at night one hears their discordant cries, consisting generally of the names of new newspapers, (many have been started within the last month), the Esparterista, the Independencia, the Sentinela del Pueblo, or of the announcement of the "latest news from the palace," "the departure of the tia Cristina," or "the life of the robber Sartorius,”—all for two cuartos, or one halfpenny. It were unjust to these benighted dispensers of intelligence to class them amongst the beggars, although they certainly are a nuisance, owing to their straightforward manner of perambulation, which compels everybody to keep out of their way who does not desire to have their heavy feet stamped upon his, or their protruded stick thrust against his shins. But the blind are quite agreeable and ornamental compared with the maimed, the diseased, the shrivelled, the distorted, who lie under walls and upon the staircases of public buildings, station themselves at street corners, ride about on donkeys, and everywhere disgust you with their nauseous presence, and pester you with their piteous whine. The Spaniards are charitable that is to say, they are great alms-givers-and this of course encourages street-begging. There are places of refuge and humane establishments in Madrid whither all destitute persons have a

right to repair-whither, indeed, it is the duty of the police to compel them to betake themselves. But for some time past it can hardly be said that there has been any police in this capital; and I assure you that a walk through it is anything but a gratification, either to the eyes or the olfactories. It is full of strange, complicated, and most unfragrant odours, to which the puzzled and tortured nose involuntarily and in vain attempts to ascribe an origin. And it is plentifully besprinkled with objects that should never be seen out of an hospital. Here, seated or squatted on the pavement of one of the most crowded thoroughfares, is a wretch with an arm shrivelled to the bone; here another whose leg grows up behind his back, his foot appearing over his shoulder. Here is an unfortunate creature who almost reminds us of the days when lepers sat by the road-side and implored alms. A little farther on a man, in an old soldier's coat, displays the hideous stump of his amputated leg; and in this narrow passage we run up against a boy leading a donkey, on which is stretched, upon his belly, a shapeless mass of humanity, his limbs naked, and every one of them in some way or other distorted and deformed. And here-haunting the narrow court that leads to the post-office, and whose asphalt pavement, most injudicious in this climate, grows sticky and stinking beneath the beams of the August sun-is a tall young fellow without any arms at all, who, in the names of many saints, entreats pity upon a pobre joven, unable to work, and expects you to put your coppers into his waistcoat pocket. As if political revolutions and vagabond music had some mysterious connection, the number of street bands, Italian harp-players, organ-grinders, and guitar-strummers, that have deafened us during the last six weeks, is something extraordinary. noticed by persons here that on one particular day, early in July, all these itinerant professors disappeared, and it was inferred that an outbreak was close at hand. But either the musicians had been falsely alarmed, or a general feast or fast held by them was the cause of the suspension of their hostilities against the tympanum of

It was

Madrid, for no insurrection occurred at that time, although we had not very long to wait for it.

The Spanish revolution of 1854 has, I need hardly say, not been accomplished without some expense. Revolutions are costly amusements: from the State they take money, and from the people days of labour. Although this one has, up to the present time, especially as regards Madrid, and in all Spain except Catalonia, been particularly orderly for a movement of the kind, and remarkably free from excess and riot, there still is a bill to pay. The provincial juntas, during their few days of local but almost absolute power, issued various decrees that would have played havoc with the finances had they not been promptly repealed by the regular government established under Espartero, to which, however, even up to the present moment, some of these juntas refuse to give up. In many provinces important taxes were taken off, without any measures being adopted to replace the heavy deficit their abolition would occasion in the public revenue. And some of these taxes were of daily collection, as, for instance, duties on goods entering towns. Then there were barricades to be paid, damages to be repaired, streets to be repaired, and many other charges. And the outgoing ministers, when they saw their political end approaching, took scandalous liberties with the public money. Of the portion of the forced loan that had been collected, but a few thousand reals were to be discovered, although at least half a million sterling had been got in, and paid at Madrid into the coffers of the State. In short, as regards finance, the new government has entered office under most unfavourable circumstances. But the purses of Progresista capitalists, rigidly closed to the Sartorius ministry, are freely opened to that of Espartero. And no time has been lost in effecting savings in various departments. Numbers of useless clerks and government officials have been dismissed; and although, according to the very bad rule here observed, all these men are entitled to more or less retiring nsion, to be more or less punctually id, still the economy is consider

able. But the great saving will result from the character of the men who have come into office, and who are all respected for their integrity. O'Donnell, it is true, made his fortune in no very reputable way-by the slave-trade, when he was governor of Cuba - but that has been such a common and received practice that it would be erroneous to infer, from his having followed it, that he would necessarily take bribes in Madrid, or defraud the country he assists to govern. A Spanish general, sent out to command at the Havanna, sees nothing improper-as there is certainly nothing extraordinary-in receiving his ounce or two of gold for every slave landed. Don José Concha, now on the eve of embarking for Cuba to resume the post he formerly held there, is almost the only instance, for many years, of resistance to the temptation held out to West Indian captain-generals by the importers of the raw article from Africa. In Spain, however, O'Donnell passes for an honourable man, who keeps his word when it is pledged, and is incapable of the baseness and peculation of which Spanish ministers have been too often guilty.

Although formed and headed by the most popular man in Spain, and composed of men by no means unwelcome to the nation, the present ministry, brief though its existence yet has been, has not escaped censure for some of its acts. Of course, all the persons whom the revolution has upset, all the employés who are put on half-pay, all the friends of the polacos, the partisans of Sartorius, Bravo Murillo, Roncali, and other notorious ex-ministers, who now find themselves sunk in the slough of despond, are furious against the new order of things, and spare no pains to damage the government by propagating false reports and malicious inventions. On the other hand, the ultra-liberals, the republicans and clubbists, look upon the present men as a mere compromise, and declare that the revolution has been nipped in the bud, and has not gone half far enough. They have faith in Espartero, and discretion enough not violently to agitate, at least for the present, against his government; but

here there are clearly the elements of two oppositions, one factious and reactionary, the other, by its impatience for progress, nearly or quite as dangerous. The most recent and the principal ground of complaint the latter party has found, is the intimation in a ministerial document published two days ago in the Madrid Gazette, and which preludes to a decree regulating the mode of convocation of the Constituent Cortes-that the government intends to admit no discussion as to the permanence of Isabella and her dynasty on the Spanish throne. There is at present a very strong feeling in Spain against the Queen personally, and against the race to which she belongs; and those who desire to see her compelled to abdicate, or dethroned by the vote of a National Convention the proper name for the single popular chamber that is to assemble on the 8th of next November-do not perhaps sufficiently reflect on the difficulties to which such a measure would give rise. They are ready to remove, but are they prepared to replace, the erring daughter of the treacherous Ferdinand? My belief is, that were Isabella to-morrow to sign her act of abdication, it would be joyfully received by a large portion of the nation, but that discord would ensue as to who or what should replace her. During the latter days of the Sartorius ministry there were seven or eight candidates in the field for the premiership-as soon as it should be vacant. There have lately been nearly as many named for the throne, should the present sovereign quit it. First there is her daughter, with a long regency-probably that of Espartero. But this would only lead to fresh complications. The Princess of the Asturias is a puny, unhealthy child; besides which there are reasons, known to all, and which I need not particularise, that make it extremely doubtful whether the Spanish nation would accept her as their sovereign even in name. This admitted, there are still many to choose out of, but there are difficulties and objections in every case. There are Montemolin, Montpensier, Don Pedro of Portugal: a federative republic has been talked of, and some have ventured to hint even at Don Enrique, the Queen's

cousin and brother-in-law. The two last, however, are out of the question. The priest party would give all its support to Montemolin, and, were an attempt made to change the dynasty, he might possibly find sufficient adherents to commence a civil war, whose duration and consequences to Spain it would be impossible to foresee. Montpensier would find few partisans. Brought into Spain by intrigue, and against the wish of the people, he has wanted either the tact or the opportunity to gain their esteem and affection. Living in retirement at Seville, he has been little heard of, and the general opinion of his abilities is decidedly poor. I say nothing of the Spanish dislike to a French sovereign, or of the opposition that the present ruler of France would probably make to his elevation to the throne of Spain. Amongst the better classes here there is decidedly a leaning to the young King of Portugal. The favourable accounts received of his talents and character, the increase of importance that would be given to Spain by the union of the two countries into the kingdom of Iberia, the commercial advantages to be derived from the command of the whole course of the two great rivers that traverse Portugal and the greater part of Spain,these are some of the circumstances that induce many here to cast wishful looks in the direction of the young heir of Braganza. Pedro V., they say, would suit them well. And even some of the objections urged against the scheme, such as the vast difference in custom house tariffs and religious tolerance in the two countries, are set down by them amongst the advantages and inducements to their union. The converts in Spain to such a reduction of the imports on foreign manufactures as should destroy smuggling, benefit the treasury, and produce an increase of the demand for Spanish produce, daily augment in numbers. As to religious tolerance, the Spaniards begin to see that it is inseparable from true liberty, and to be ashamed of the system of bigotry that disgraces their country. The appointment of Don José Alonso, a most determined opponent of ultramontane influence, to the ministry of Grace and Justice, is significant of the feel