believed in most other countries. The fanatics at Rome alone do the Prince of Peace the honour of accusing him of impiety for this act, not of philanthropy but of justice. several considerable sums in the public funds of England, France, and Holland, in his own name or in that of his wife. This lady is a daughter of an uncle of the King, whose marriage with a subject was regarded as a mésalliance, and never confirmed by the late or present King. So great, however, is his authority, that she is how admitted at court with all the honours and dis-often the Prince of Peace obtains the honour of tinctions due to a Princess of the blood. Such are some of the traits and particulars of a person, who, by his shameful power over the Queen, has reduced the Spanish monarchy to a tri tary state of France. By his dangerous incapacity and impolitic conduct, the throne of Madrid is suspended between a revolution daily dreaded, and the burden of a disgraceful war, which has neither object nor motive, in which success would hasten the ruin of the King, and in which every defeat deserves to be celebrated with a Te Deum. Thanks to the Prince of Peace, it is in this deceitful position, it is in the arms of the assassins of his family, that the King of Spain drags his existence, a prey to the perturbation of his mind, the ignorance and indecisions of his ministers, the complaints, the misery of his subje ts; to anxiety for the present and to terror for the future. Slumbering beneath a roof of poignards, this monarch, bound by the ties of an unnatural alliance, can neither break them, nor suffer them to remain unbroken without danger; can neither make peace nor support Both when at Madrid, and in the royal palaces in the provinces, the King and Queen always sleep in the same room in different beds, and having his bed placed by the side or between the beds of his royal master and mistress. During the journey to the frontiers of the kingdom in 1796, where the King and Queen went to meet their daughter and son-in-law, the Princess and Prince of Brazils, the bed of the Prince of Peace was every night, in every house where they rested, placed between those of his royal Sovereigns, having the Queen on his right and the King on his left hand. From the known religious and moral sentiments of the royal couple, and their mutual affection and regard, what in other countries would have excited ridicule, if not scandal, was in Spain merely considered as a proof of their reciprocal confidence and friendship for their favourite.* The Prince of Peace, though the real, is no longer the nominal prime minister of Spain. In critical affairs, or when transactions of great consequence are upon the eve of being decided, he however always condescends to entertain foreign ambassadors with his dulness, in his private audiences. Don Pedro Cevallos is the first secretary of state for the foreign department. Don Joseph Antonio Caballero is the minister of justice, and has ad interim the portfolio of the war department. Don Domingo de Grandallana is the chief minister of the navy, and Don Miguel Cayetan Soler is the minister of the finances. All these ministers are obliged to communicate their reports, plans, or proposals, to the Prince of Peace and the Queen, before they lay them before the King; who approves of them and signs them as soon as he hears that they have not been objected to by his royal consort. It is impossible to pay a greater compliment to the superior genius of the Queen of Spain. *Le Voyageur Italien, vol. iii. p. 125. In the summer of 1797, the author met with Count de L at Paris, who is a Brabant nobleman The weakness of the Queen of Spain, in the choice of her favourite, is the only error with which she is reproached. She is an affectionate wife, a tender mother, a faithful friend, and a generous and good sovereign. Not entirely free from the Italian superstition imbibed in her youth, nor from the Spanish bigotry, which a long residence in Spain has almost naturalized; she is, || by birth, but a superior officer of the Walloon however, tolerant and endearing, more so than either her royal consort or her princely favourite. That her liberal principles and sound judgment have restrained the inhuman authority and cruel and persecuting spirit of the so much dreaded Spanish inquisition, suspended if not abolished its judicial murders, is reported in Spain, and guard of the King of Spain. He confirmed what has been said ef the etiquette of placing the bed of the favourite in the middle. He was one of the officers on duty during this journey, and spoke of it as nothing extraordinary, or rather as an ordinary occurrence. 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 Arst 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 I "He is pronounced the name of Las-Casas. 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 cf 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 fed 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 sa vages. Thus all communication was shut between 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 knees, and fixing his eyes upon him, his counte nance seemed to express piety, affection and despair, he pronounced a few words in a faulter 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 fewing voice, which the Jesuit could not understand, 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 seek 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, I will preach it to them, and it is a rich treasure I shall distribute among them. 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 boy, 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 filed, he threw himself on the dead 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 Guacolde; 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 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 go to the Assumption and seek for assistance. On his arrival at the Assumption, Father Mal-why the child always extended his arms towards donado was astonished to find, instead of the the river, while calling on the name of Guacolde. 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. 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 scream; 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. it, he knelt on the grave, kissed it several times and remained for a considerable space prostrate upon it. He afterwards arose and performed the same ceremonies beside the river; then returning to the Jesuit, he raised his eyes to heaven, pronounced mournfully the names of Alcaipa and Guacolde, made a sign which seemed to express that they no longer existed; and threw himself Into the arms of Maldonado, as though to make him understand that having lost every thing on earth he gave himself to him. The good father's benevolent attentions soon won the savage boy's affection: as mild as he was grateful, he seemed to delight in obeying his commands, and even sought to anticipate them. He consented to wear clothing, and accustomed himself with little trouble, to habits which he did not understand, and which often were repugnant to him. But a sign from his benefactor reconciled him to every thing. Endowed with a lively understanding and an excellent memory, he very soon knew enough Spanish to comprehend the Jesuit. The first word he learned, and which struck him particularly when he knew its signification, was that of father, by which every one addressed Maldonado: O my father, said he, I had lost the hope of ever again pronouncing that name: but it is to thee I owe this happiness; and I see you are the best of men, for every one call you their father. As soon as he could answer the good Jesuit's questions, he informed him of his birth and his misfortunes; it was at the tomb of his departed sire that the youthful savage related his history. "My name is Camire," said he; "I belong to the nation of the Guaranis, whom your brethren the Spaniards have driven from these plains, and who now inhabit the woods behind those blue mountains. I was the only child of Alcaipa and Guacolde. They had been tenderly attached to each other all their lives, and since my birth all their affection was centered in me. When my father took me to the chase, my mother accompanied us; and when my mother detained me at home, my father remained also with us. My days were spent with them and at night I reposed in their arms. If I was happy they did not fail to be the same, and our hut re-echoed with their songs; if I was ill, they were overwhelmed with grief, and if I slept, they gazed upon me, and my slumbers gave them repose. "A nation called the Brasilians who I supposed had been drived away by your brethren, came and attacked us in our forests. A battle was fought, and the Brasilians triumphed. My father and mother, obliged to fly, hastily built a canoe of bark, in which we placed all that we possessed, which consisted of two hammocks, a net, and two No. XX. Vol. III. our canoe was bows; we then embarked on the great river, "I would have followed my mother; but Alcaipa held both my arms in his hand. He made a last effort to cross the river, reached the shore laid me on the sand, kissed me, and fell dead at my feet. "You my father soon arrived. You know the rest." The Jesuit could not hear this relation without weeping he did not endeavour to console the young savage; he did not tell him to dry up his tears, but shed some with him, and Camire's ceased to flow that he might wipe away those of the worthy old man. Maldonado's paternal affection soon won the heart of the sensible Camire. He studied at his school, and learned to read and write with astonishing facility. The pious missionary spoke to him on the subject of religion, and described it according to his own feelings. His eloquence which flowed from the soul soon reached that of his pupil, who easily believed the good father's words, because he saw him daily put them in practice: he accompanied him to the hospital, to the poor and the sick, when seated on the bed of disease; Maldonado calmed the grief of the unfortunate by his consolatory discourse. But when he shared with the Indians his frugal repast, and even his clothing, and the young savage admired his charity, "My son," would the Jesuit exclaim, this is not sufficient, my god is the father of the poor, of the orphan, of the afflicted; they are his favourite children, it is thus we must assist each other if we wish to please him. B Charmed with these divine precepts, and impatient to follow so pleasing an example, Camire asked to be baptized. This desire filled the missionary's breast with joy, and he flew to acquaint the Governor with it. Pedreras offered to stand god-father to the converted American; all the Spaniards made him presents, and the Jesuit busied himself in endeavouring to insure an independency to his new proselyte. The credit and consideration which Maldomado enjoyed in the colony, and even in Spain, insured him an easy means of procuring Camire various situations. At sixteen his education was nished, and the Jesuit's pupil learned more than most of the colonists. He understood Latin, was well acquainted with mathematics, well read in history and poetry, as well as all Spanish works of celebrity. His intelligent mind had profited by what he had read; he loved books, and understood them well, and often culled more real philosophy from them than the author himself professed. Maldonado, whom he astonished by his genius, spoke to him seriously on the necessity of choosing a profession which would lead him to fortune; he proposed to him the study of the law, the army, or commerce, and with his usual indulgence, left him a free choice. Camire thus replied: "The only error of which I find you guilty, my father is that of believing that fortune, which you so often mention, can be necessary for my happiness. I know very well from what I have read, and from the information you have given me concerning your Europe, where the whole of nature's gifts only belong to a sinall part of its inhabitants; where the poor are condemned to serve the rich, to be allowed the right of breathing the air, and feeding on the fruits of the earth-I can easily conceive that in that country every means are employed, just or unjust, to leave the extensive class of those who possess nothing, to become a member of the one that enjoys every thing. But look around you, my father! look at these almost unbounded plains, where the maize, the ananas, and a crowd of other salubrious plants grow before our eyes, almost without cultivation: look at those immense forests, filled with cocoa trees, pomegranate, lemon, and citron trees, and many other delicious fruits, which nature creates with less trouble than you have in repeating their names; all those belong to me, I may enjoy them; and the population of Paraguay will not for a long time be sufficiently great for men to divide this extensive country, name a master for each spot of land, and deprive their successors of the gifts of nature. for what reason you call professions, I will frankly confess that none of those you described pleased me. I do not like your laws, insufficient, uncertain, and often contradictory; of all the books you have made me read it is these I have found the mos: tedious; and as we never acquire well · what we dislike, I will not learn them, nor waste my time as many have done. War makes me shudder. I admire, I love the courageous man, who, if his wife, his children, or country be attacked, takes up arms, and braves death in defence of his brethren: that man is not a warrior, as he is erroneously called in your country he is a man of peace and justice, for he defends the one and the other. But for me, born a Guarani, to engage my life to sell my blood to the King of Spain, to ravage the earth, or destroy men, according to his will! no, my father, the religion you have taught me prohibits this, and I have yet to learn how your Spaniards accord this profession with their duties as Christians. "Commerce at first pleased me; I thought it charitable and agreeable to cross the sea, and spend one's life in labour and danger, to carry distant nations the assistance they stand in need of, to share with the large family of mankind the gifts of our common father; but, upon further investigation, I discovered the motives which actuated this charity, I discovered that the honestest merchants did not scruple to give savages deadly weapons, and to intoxicate them with strong liquors, to conclude their bargains to advantage. In short, I have seen them bring Africans from their own country, and here ex. pose them for sale in the market-place, like cattle! Sell our brethren!-Oh! my father, this is galling commerce!-My friend! I will not be a merchant! "Let ine then remain what I am. You may smile, and make me understand I am nothing; but I assure you I am something, and something tolerably good and tolerably happy; thanks to thy care I enjoy health, a good conscience, and am prepared at this instant to appear before the God of mercy, and the only regret I should feel would be that of leaving you. Innocence, my father! is an excellent profession; allow me to have no other. Beside you, I want for nothing; and if I had the misfortune to lose you, I would return to my woods, there our trees would afford me satisfaction, and thy memory would detain me in the paths of virtue. Let me then enjoy in peace the happiness you have bestowed upon We have perused many large books on what men denominate felicity. I could form a little treatise, which might be reduced to these two lines: To preserve the heart in its native purity, and to know how to renounce thosp. "As to those employments, which I know not || things which are of little consequence,” me. |