my crossing the Guadiana. It was not a mercenary attention, which flies to execute your orders with the prospect of to-morrow's gain; but a grateful eagerness, which convinced me more and more how deeply the services which England had rendered to Spain were here imprinted upon every bosom. Such are the advantages which nations derive from acting on great and generous principles. The feelings not only of these peasants, but of the great mass of Spanish peasantry, will survive many a political storm, and remain true to England, at a period too distant for us yet to form hypotheses upon. The peasantry of all countries form the true basis of their strength. Their prejudices are strong, generous, and obstinate; and amid the fall of thrones, and the puerile vacillations of emperors and kings, it is at least grateful to reflect, that the peasantry of the peninsula, are in these respects, decidedly English. It may, perhaps, be said with truth, that England alone can destroy these favourable prejudices. "The family at Monasterio, as usual, supped after me; and I observed with pleasure the children repeating their prayers, and kissing their hands to their parents before retiring to bed. This was not the first time that I was struck with the many points of resemblance between the generality of the Scottish peasants and those in many parts of Spain. The dark caps of the peasants of Sierra Morena, the uniformity of their dress, many of their dishes, the interior arrangement of their houses, the domestic manners of their women, their looks, their air, their gravity mixed with a dry humour, and an un feigned spirit of piety, all tend to remind us of many of the most prominent features in the character of the Scottish peasantry. I once made the same remark to a wellinformed Spaniard at Madrid, on some of the peasants whom I observed to arrive there from various provinces. Undoubtedly,' he replied, in all the spirit of a true Spaniard, do you not know, that we have formerly sent colonies to Scotland?' "Four hundred men of the second battalion of Cantabria were quartered here. The first battalion, they told me, was with the army; and in talking on these subjects, I found that an English regiment, the fortieth, which had lately passed along this road, on its way to Sevilla, was the theme of universal admiration. What chiefly excited the astonishment, and almost the envy, of the Spanish recruits, seemed to be the dress and accoutrements of that regiment; nor could they avoid contrasting their own miserable dress and scanty pay, with those of their new allies. The women were particularly charmed; and the musicians, with their hats dressed round with feathers, had, I found, made a deep impression on every heart. The death of general Moore, and the embarkation of the English, was not yet known here, even to the best informed. A French emigrant of the revolution, married in Spain, and an officer of some rank in the Spanish army, visited me, and was now, for the first time, informed of these important events. The miserable system of keeping the people in a state of ignorance, as much as possible, is still as strongly persisted in by the govern ment as it is less intelligible with respect to its motive than the other, so is it in its consequences still more pernicious to the general interests of mankind. Fear of censure from contemporaries, will seldom have much effect upon men in situations of unlimited authority. They will too often flatter themselves that the same power which commits the crime will secure them from the reproach. The dread of posthumous infamy, therefore, be ing the only restraint, their consciences excepted, upon the passions of such persons, it is lamentable that this last defence (feeble enough at best) should in any degree be impaired; and impaired it must be, if not totally destroyed, when tyrants can hope to find in a man like Hume, no less eminent for the benevolence and integrity of his heart, than for the depth and soundness of his understanding, an apologist for even their foulest murders." The whole of this passage, containing so striking a moral, has, in the French translation, been suppressed. Mr. Fox, speaking of the right of political resistance, says: "Success, it has been invidiously remarked, constitutes, in most instances, the sole difference between the traitor and the deliverer of his country. A rational probability of success, distinguishes the wellconsidered enterprise of the patriot from the rash schemes of the disturber of the public peace. To command success is not in the power of man; but to deserve success, by choosing a proper time, as well as a proper object by the prudence of his means, no less than by the purity of his views by a cause, not only intrinsically just, but likely to ensure general support, is the indispensable duty of him who engages in an insurrection against an existing government." This passage is expunged, as was to be expected. But, to enumerate all the instances in which Mr. Fox's history has been mutilated and garbled in the French translation, would, indeed, be a tedious task. There has been so much pains taken to pick out the white hairs from Mr. Fox's grey and venerable head, as in a very great measure to disfigure and disguise it. Yet, stripped as it is of the general reflections in which Mr. Fox has stamped the sanction of his great name upon the most important truths and precepts for guiding the conduct of public men, in periods of arbitrary administration, or popular delusion, the author's sentiments, in favour of liberty and justice, are so interwoven into the body of the composition, that they could not be wholly erazed without tearing to pieces the whole texture, and destroying even the show of a progressive narrative. And, after all that it has undergone, it will not be read in France without effect. It is only surprising that a translation of the book has been suffered to be sold at all. This prodigious garbling of Mr. Fox's book in the French translation, excites the pleasing reflection that Buonaparté lives in terror, and that his very efforts, like those of all tyrants, to avert, tend to increase his danger. That Buonaparté has seen and perused Mr. Fox's book, which might be perused in so short a time, cannot be doubted. doubted. He was peronally acquainted with and possessed a high esteem for Mr. Fox. The appearance of the book was expected. It related to a period analogous to the circumstances of France for some time past; a republic followed by the restoration of monarchy. And, lastly, all the alterations, interpolations, and expurgations it has undergone, prove that it must have been read by Buonaparté himself: for there is no translator that would have undertaken a business that required such excessive precaution before his translation could have any chance of being saleable; nor would that branch of the imperial police which is charged with the care of the press, have ventured to sanction its publication, even as it is, without the authority of the person that must be called to mind by so many interesting analogies and recollections. Further still, the expurgations, in all probability, were not first made by the censors of the press, and then shown, but originated with Buonaparté himself. It would have been a matter of extreme delicacy, if not of danger, for that board to have, of their own accord, struck out the passages bearing hard on Buonaparté. It would have discovered to the jealous Italian what, at the bottom of their hearts, they thought of him. If, again, Buonaparté, amidst the impatient curiosity of Paris and France, had given orders for the total suppression of the work, these orders would immediately have excited a suspicion, and inflamed curiosity still more. Such palpable evidence of caution, lest it should be read, would have brought it under the public eye, in all its native terrors.-Buonaparté has, in many instances, but in none more glaringly than in defacing the sentiments of Mr. Fox, acknowledged that he sees, hanging over his head, the sword of Damocles. He is afraid, not without good reason, of the vicissitudes in public opinion and public spirit. Public opinion, in times of comparative barbarism and ignorance, is not so formidable, because it is not so easily or so completely formed, as in the present enlightened period of extended intercourse among men and nations. But an union of judgment, and a concert of wills, among vast bodies of men, spurns at the authority of tyrants. -Why are mobs, immense aggregates of unconnected individuals so formidable? Because each individual, weak and helpless in a solitary state, perceives and feels that he has more than the hands of the giant Briareus. He hesitates not to commit the most violent act, to undertake the most daring enterprize, because he knows that hẹ will be seconded and supported by thousands and hundreds of thousands. In adverting to the suppressed passages of Fox's History, we have the pleasure of divining the ideas, the cares and fears, that occurred to the mind of Buonaparté. When the garbling, of which he is the author, shall come to the knowledge of Frenchmen, as it infallibly will do, the original work will be sought after, and perused with redoubled avidity and effect. As to the Life of Mr. Fox, prefixed to the translation, it is disclaimed, in a very marked manner, by the translator himself. It the country, and the manners, politics, and complexion of the court, we must not expect that the British merchant will be sufficiently encouraged to make considerable adventures to West Barbary; and hence one reason why the trade has of late years been in a great degree abandoned by us, and has fallen into the hands of a few Jews, subjects of the emperor. The French, aware of the importance of a trade which carries off manufactured goods of all kinds, and furnishes in return raw materials, were induced to attempt an establishment of considerable capital; but the British cruizers in the Mediterranean, rendering it almost impossible for their ships to sail to or from Marseilles, have lately obliged them to relinquish their enterprize for the present, though there can be no doubt, that in the event of a permanent peace, it will be resumed with additional vigour. The same causes have also compelled the other merchants, natives of countries now under the dominion of France, to remain al- most entirely inactive, waiting impatiently for some change that may enable them to resume with some security their commercial negotiations; so that, with the exception of two or three houses, there is, at present, no European establishment of any consequence at Mogodor. The commerce of Mogodor with America, during the years 1804 and 1805, was impeded by a dispute between that country and the emperor, which, however, has been amicably adjusted, and the trade is now resumed. Vessels going from Salem, Boston, and other parts of America, with East and West In dia produce to Mogodor, receive, in return, the various articles of Barbary produce; and by this means, the agents of the American merchants established at Mogodor are enabled to undersell us in all East and West India goods. "A close connexion with the empire of Marocco is of the greatest importance to Great Britain both in a political and commercial point of view; for besides the various articles of trade already enumerated, it affords ample supplies of provisions; and if a friendly intercourse between the two nations were firmly established, we should never have any difficulty in victualling not only Gibraltar, but also all our different fleets which cruize in the Mediterranean, and on the northern coast of Africa, a resourse which, in the present state of things, certainly merits the serious attention of this country. The advantages of a trade with this empire must be evident from what has been detailed in the preceding pages, where it will be seen that nearly the whole of the exports to Marocco consists of manufactured goods, and that the returns for these are entirely raw materials, many of which are essentially necessary in our manufactures. That the present trade is so inconsiderable, arises entirely from the little encouragement and support it meets with; for British subjects, finding they had to depend on their own exertions alone for the protection and safety of their property embarked in this traffic, have for the most part abandoned it, and now it is falling into the hands of subjects of Marocco, established in England. This is the more to be regretted, as we have it in the whole in motion. They tell you what they see or hear; but it is no part of their plan to write histories, or statistical accounts of the countries through which they pass. Mr. Semple belongs to this second class of travellers. He holds on in his course, which is pretty rapid, without stopping at any place, or on any occasion, to make collections or minute researches of any kind. He is guided in his attentions by taste and judgment. He describes sciences, societies, and persons in a lively manner, and he is throughout sensible, sincere, and candid. In a word, this Second Journey is, like the former, interesting, amusing, and instructive. This Second Journey was undertaken with the intention of observing the effects produced upon Spain by the revolution. Mr. Semple proceeded from Falmouth to Lisbon, in the packet, in January, 1809. He found it dull and cheerless, and as much under the influence of fear, as of the hopes of patriotism. The state of Lisbon, and the Portuguese levies, he describes in the following man ner: "Every Englishman was well aware that in case of the French entering Lisbon, his property would be the first object of search and confiscation, and that even his peaceful and mercantile pursuits might not suffice to protect his person from imprisonment. The doubts, the suspense, the alarm, the confusion which prevailed, may therefore be well imagined. Whilst such was the state of the English residents, the native inhabitants presented a different and more in is teresting spectacle. Equally in suspense, equally in confusion, equally anxious after every fresh whisper of intelligence, they were yet chained to the spot by insurmountable ties, and obliged to wait at their post the sue of the contest. Hence a strange mixture of passions. Rage against the French who were advancing; rage against the English who were preparing to abandon them. The first was open and avowed; the second secret and concealed, but only waiting the last moment of embarkation to have displayed itself in all its madness. The conflict of contending passions ended in a burst of patriotism. When it could not longer be concealed that the English and Spanish armies in Gallicia were retreating. When it became evident that the English force in Lisbon was making every preparation to embark at the shortest notice; and those regiments which had marched towards the frontiers were rapidly retreating without having seen an enemy: then the government made an animated appeal to the people, reminded them of the former glory of the Portuguese name, and called upon them to assert it. The enthusiasm created by such appeals, and by necessity, was very great. But had the French advanced, it would, in my opinion, have proved less fatal to them than to the stragglers of the English rear-guard. Happily this was not put to the test. The streets, the squares, the quays, were lined with ranks of volunteers, whose arms, equipment, and movements, were most various and whimsical. The greater proportion carried pikes; some were armed with fowling |