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buxom countenance, radiant with pepticity, good humour, and manifold effectuality in peace and war! Of his battles and adventures let some luckier epic writer sing or speak. One thing we Foreign Reviewers will always remember: his father's immense merits towards Chile in the matter of highways. Till Don Ambrosio arrived to govern Chile, some half century ago, there probably was not a made road of ten miles long from Panama to Cape Horn. Indeed, except his roads, we fear there is hardly any yet. One omits the old Inca causeways, as too narrow (being only three feet broad) and altogether unfrequented in the actual ages. Don Ambrosia made, with incredible industry and perseverance and skill, in every direction, roads. From San Iago to Valparaiso, where only sure-footed mules with their packsaddles carried goods, there can now wooden-axled cars, loud-sounding, or any kind of vehicle, commodiously roll. It was he that shaped these passes, through the Andes, for most part; hewed them out from mule-tracks into roads, certain of them. And think of his casuchas. Always on the higher inhospitable solitudes, at every few miles' distance, stands a trim brick cottage, or cashucha, into which the forlorn traveller, introducing himself, finds covert and grateful safety; nay food and refection, for there are “iron boxes” of pounded beef or other provender, iron boxes of charcoal; to all which the traveller, having bargained with the Post-office authorities, carries a key.* Steel and tinder are not wanting to him, nor due iron skillet, with water from the stream: there he, striking a light, cooks hoarded victuals at eventide, amid the lonely pinnacles of the world, and blesses Governor O'Higgins. With "both hands," it may be hoped,-if there is vivacity of mind

in him:

maizemeal; "store of onions, of garlic," was not wanting: Paraguay tea could be boiled at eventide, by fire of scrub-bushes, or almost of rock-lichens or dried mule-dung. No further baggage was permitted: each soldier lay, at night, wrapt in his poncho, with his knapsack for pillow, under the canopy of heaven; lullabied by hard travail: and sank soon enough into steady nose-melody, into the foolishest rough colt-dance of unimaginable Dreams. Had he not left much behind him in the Pampas,-mother, mistress, what not; and was like to find somewhat, if he ever got across to Chile living? What an entity, one of those night-leaguers of San Martin; all steadily snoring there, in the heart of the Andes, under the eternal stars! Wayworn sentries with difficulty keep themselves awake: tired mules chew barley rations, or doze on three legs; the feeble watchfire will hardly kindle a cigar; Canopus and the Southern Cross glitter down; and all snores steadily, begirt by granite deserts, looked on by the constellations in that manner! San Martin's improvident soldiers ate out their week's rations almost in half the time; and for the last three days, had to rush on, spurred by hunger: this also the knowing San Martin had foreseen; and knew that they could bear it, these rugged Guachos of his; nay, that they would march all the faster for it. On the eighth day, hungry as wolves, swift and sudden as a torrent from the mountains, they disembogued; straight towards San Iago, to the astonishment of men;-struck the doubly astonished Spaniards into dire misgivings; and then, in pitched fight, after due manœuvres, into total defeat on the "Plains of Maypo," and again, positively for the last time, on the Plains or Heights of "Chacabuco;" and completed the "deliverance of Chile," as was thought, for ever and a day..

Alas, the "deliverance of Chile was but commenced; very far from completed. Chile, after many more deliverances, up to this hour, is always but "delivered," from one set of evil doers to another set! San Martin's Manœuvres to liberate Peru, to unite Peru and Chile, and become some Washington-Napoleon of the same, did not prosper so well. The suspicion of mankind had to rouse itself; | Liberator Bolivar had to be called in; and some revolution or two to take place in the interim. San Martin sees himself peremptorily, though with courtesy, complimented over the Andes again; and in due leisure, at Mendoza, hangs his portrait between Napoleon's and Wellington's. Mr. Miers considered him a fairspoken, obliging, if somewhat artful man. Might not the Chilenos as well have taken him for their Napoleon? They have gone farther, and, as yet, fared little better!

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The world-famous General O'Higgins, for example, he, after some revolution or two, became Director of Chile; but so terribly hampered by class-legislation," and the like, what could he make of it? Almost nothing! O'Higgins is clearly of Irish breed; and, though a Chileno born, and "natural son of Don Ambrosio O'Higgins, formerly the Spanish Viceroy of Chile," carries his Hibernianism in his very face. A most cheery, jovial,

Had you seen this road before it was made,
You would lift both your hands and bless General Wade.

It affects one with real pain to hear from Mr. Miers, that the war of liberty has half ruined these O'Higgins casuchas. Patriot soldiers, in want of more warmth than the charcoal box could yield, have not scrupled to tear down the door, doorcase, or whatever wooden thing could be come at, and burn it, on the spur of the moment. The storm-stayed traveller, who sometimes, in threatening weather, has to linger here for days, "for fifteen days together," does not lift both his hands, and bless the Patriot soldier!

Nay, it appears, the O'Higgins roads, even in the plain country, have not, of late years, been repaired, or in the least attended to, se distressed was the finance department; and are now fast verging towards impassability and the condition of mule-tracks again. What a set of animals are men and Chilenos If an O'Higgins did not now and then appear among them, what would become of the unfortunates Can you wonder that an O'Higgins sometimes loses temper with them; snuts the persuasive outspread hand, clutching some sharpest hide whip, some terrible sword of justice or gallows

* Miers.

lasso therewith, instead,—and becomes a Dr. Francia now and then! Both the O'Higgins and Francia, it seems probal`a, are phases of the same character; both, ne begins to fear, are indispensable from ti e to time, in a world inhabited by men and (ilenos!

of Man; under the most unpropitious circumstances; and have hitherto got only to the length we see! Nay now, it seems, they do possess "universities," which are at least schools with other than monk teachers: they have got libraries, though as yet almost noAs to O'Higgins the Second Patriot, Natural body reads them, and our friend Miers, re son O'Higgins, he, as we said, had almost no peatedly knocking at all doors of the Grand success whatever as a governor; being ham- Chile National Library, could never to this pered by class-legislation. Alas, a governor hour discover where the key lay, and had to Chile cannot succeed. governor there content himself with looking in through the has to resign himself to the want of success; windows. Miers, as already hinted, desideand should say, in cheerful interrogative tone, rates unspeakable improvements in Chile;— like that Pope elect, who, showing himself on desiderates, indeed, as the basis of all, an imthe balcony, was greeted with mere howls, mense increase of soap-and-water. Yes, thou "Non piacemmo al popolo ?"—and thereupon pro- sturdy Miers, dirt is decidedly to be removed, ceed cheerfully to the next fact. Governing is a whatever improvements, temporal or spiritual, rude business everywhere; but in South Ame- may be intended next? According to Miers, rica it is of quite primitive rudeness; they the open, still more the secret personal nastihave no parliamentary way of changing minis-ness of those remote populations, rises almost tries as yet; nothing but the rude primitive towards the sublime. Finest silks, gold broway of hanging the old ministry on gibbets, cades, pearl necklaces, and diamond ear-drops, that the new may be installed! Their govern- are no security against it: alas, all is not gold ment has altered its name, says the sturdy Mr. that glitters; somewhat that glitters is mere Miers, rendered sulky by what he saw there: putrid fish-skin! Decided, enormously inaltered its name, but its nature continues as creased appliance of soap-and-water, in all its before. Shameless peculation, malversation, branches, with all its adjuncts; this, according that is their government: op, ression formerly to Miers, would be an improvement. He says by Spanish officials, now by native hacienda- also ("in his haste," as is probable, like the dos, land-proprietors,-the thing called justice Hebrew Psalmist) that all Chileno men are still at a great distance from them, says the liars; all, or in appearance, all! A people sulky Mr. Miers!-Yes, bu. coming always, that uses almost no soap, and speaks almost answer we; every new gibketing of an old in- no truth, but goes about in that fashion, in a effectual ministry bringing justice somewhat state of personal nastiness, and also of spiritual nearer! Nay, as Miers himself has to admit, nastiness, approaching the sublime; such peocertain improvements are already indisputa- ple is not easy to govern well!— ble. Trade everywhere, in spite of multiplex confusions, has increased, is increasing: the But undoubtedly by far the notablest of days of somnolent monopoly and the old Ac- all these South American phenomena is Dr. apulco ship are gone, quite over the horizon. Francia and his Dictatorship in Paraguay; Two good, or partially good measures, the concerning whom and which we have now very necessity of things has everywhere more particularly to speak. Francia and his brought about in those poor countries: clip-"reign of terror" have excited some interest, ping of the enormous bat-wings of the clergy, much vague wonder in this country; and and emancipating of the slaves. Bat-wings, especially given a great shock to constitutionwe say; for truly the South American clergy al feeling. One would rather wish to know had grown to be as a kind of bat-vampires: Dr. Francia;-but unhappily one cannot! Out readers have heard of that huge South Ameri- of such a murk of distracted shadows and can blood-sucker, which fixes its bill in your rumours, in the other hemisphere of the world, circulating vital-fluid as you lie asleep, and who would pretend at present to decipher the there sucks; waving you with the motion real portraiture of Dr. Francia and his Life? of its detestable leather wings into ever deeper None of us can. A few credible features, sleep; and so drinking till it is satisfied, and wonderful enough, original enough in our you do not awaken any more! The South constitutional time, will perhaps to the m American governments, all in natural feud partial eye disclose themselves; these, with with the old church-dignitaries, and likewise some endeavour to interpret these, may lead all in great straits for cash, have everywhere certain readers into various reflections, conconfiscated the monasteries, cashiered the dis- stitutional and other, not entirely without benefit. obedient dignitaries, melted the superfluous church-plate into piasters; and, on the whole, shorn the wings of their vampire; so that if it still suck, you will at least have a chance of awakening before death!-Then again, the very want of soldiers of liberty led to the emancipating of blacks, yellows, and other coloured persons; your mulatto, nay your negro, if well drilled, will stand fire as well as

another.

Poor South American emancipators; they began with Volney, Raynal and Company, at that gospel of Social Contract and the Rights

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Certainly, as we say, nothing could well shock the constitutional feeling of mankind, as Dr. Francia has done. Dionysius the tyrant of Syracuse, and indeed the whole breed of tyrants, one hoped, had gone many hundred years ago, with their reward; and here, under our very nose, rises a new "tyrant," claiming also his reward from us! Precisely when constitutional liberty was beginning to be understood a little, and we flattered ourselves that by due ballot-boxes, by due registration

Travels in Chile.

courts, and bursts of parliamentary eloquence, | Francia, Dictator of Paraguay, is, at present, something like a real National Palaver would to the European mind, little other than a be got up in those countries,-arises this tawny- chimera; at best, the statement of a puzzle, visaged, lean, inexorable Dr. Francia; claps to which the solution is still to seek. As the you an embargo on all that; says to con- Paraguenos, though not a literary people, can stitutional liberty, in the most tyrannous man- many of them spell and write, and are not ner, Hitherto, and no farther! It is an un- without a discriminating sense of true and deniable, though an almost incredible fact, untrue, why should not some real "Life of that Francia, a lean private individual, Practi- Francia," from those parts, be still possible? tioner of Law, and Doctor of Divinity, did, If a writer of genius arise there, he is hereby for twenty or near thirty years, stretch out his invited to the enterprise. Surely in all places rod over the foreign commerce of Paraguay, your writing genius ought to rejoice over an saying to it, Cease! The ships lay high and acting genius, when he falls in with such; dry, their pitchless seams all yawning on the and say to himself: "Here or nowhere is the clay banks of the Parana; and no man could thing for me to write of! Why do I keep pen trade but by Francia's license. If any person and ink at all, if not to apprize men of this entered Paraguay, and the Doctor did not like singular acting genius and the like of him? his papers, his talk, conduct, or even the cut My fine-arts and aesthetics, my epics, literaof his face, it might be the worse for such tures, poetics, if I will think of it, do all at person! Nobody could leave Paraguay on bottom mean either that or else nothing what any pretext whatever. It mattered not that ever!" you were man of science, astronomer, geologer, astrologer, wizard of the north; Francia heeded none of these things. The whole world knows of M. Aimé Bonpland; how Francia seized him, descending on his tea-establishment in Entre Rios, like an obscene vulture, and carried him into the interior, contrary even to the law of nations; how the great Humboldt and other high persons expressly applied to Dr. Francia, calling on him, in the name of human science, and as it were under penalty of reprobation, to liberate M. Bonpland; and how Dr. Francia made no answer, and M. Bonpland did not return to Europe, and indeed has never yet returned. It is also admitted that Dr. Francia had a gallows, had jailers, law-fiscals, officials; and executed, in his time, "upwards of forty persons," some of them in a very summary manner. Liberty of private judgment, unless it kept its mouth shut, was at an end in Paraguay. Paraguay lay under interdict, cut off for above twenty years from the rest of the world, by a new Dionysius of Paraguay. All foreign commerce had ceased; how much more all domestic constitution-building! These are strange facts. Dr. Francia, we may conclude at least, was not a common man but an uncommon.

How unfortunate that there is almost no knowledge of him procurable at present! Next to none. The Paraguenos can in many cases spell and read, but they are not a literary people; and, indeed, this Doctor was, perhaps, too awful a practical phenomenon to be calmly treated of in the literary way. Your Breughel paints his sea-storm, not while the ship is labouring and cracking, but after he has got to shore, and is safe under cover! Our Buenos-Ayres friends, again, who are not without habits of printing, lay at a great distance from Francia, under great obscurations of quarrel and controversy with him; their constitutional feeling shocked to an extreme degree by the things he did. To them, there could little intelligence float down, on those long muddy waters, through those vast distracted countries, that was not more or less of a distracted nature; and then from BuenosAyres over into Europe, there is another long tract of distance, liable to new distractions.

Hitherto our chief source of information as to Francia is a little book, the second on our list, set forth in French some sixteen years ago, by the Messrs. Rengger and Longchamp. Translations into various languages were executed; of that into English it is our painful duty to say that no man, except in the case of extreme necessity, shall use it as reading. The translator, having little fear of human detection, and seemingly none at all of divine or diabolic, has done his work even unusually ill; with ignorance, with carelessness, with dishonesty prepense; coolly omitting whatsoever he saw that he did not understand:-poor man, if he yet survive, let him reform in time! He has made a French book, which was itself but lean and dry, into the most wooden of English false books; doing evil as he could in that matter;and claimed wages for it, as if the feat deserved wages first of all! Reformation, even on the small scale, is highly necessary.

The Messrs. Rengger and Longchamp were, and we hope still are, two Swiss Surgeons; who in the year 1819 resolved on carrying their talents into South America, into Paraguay, with views towards "natural history," among other things. After long towing and struggling in those Parana floods, and distracted provinces, after much detention by stress of weather and of war, they arrived accordingly in Francia's country; but found that without Francia's leave they could not quit it again. Francia was now a Dionysius of Paraguay. Paraguay had grown to be, like some mousetraps and other contrivances of art and nature, easy to enter, impossible to get out of. Our brave Surgeons, our brave Rengger (for it is he alone of the two that speaks and writes) reconciled themselves; were set to doctoring of Francia's soldiery, of Francia's self; collected plants and beetles; and, for six years, endured their lot rather handsomely at length, in 1825, the em bargo was for a time lifted, and they got home. This book was the consequence. It is not a good book, but at that date there was, on the subject, no other book at all; nor is there yet any other better, or as good. We consider it to be authentic, veracious, moderately accurate; though lean and dry, it is intelligible, rational; in the French original, not unreadable. We may

say it embraces up to this date, the present date, all of importance that is yet known in Europe about the Doctor Despot; add to this its indispuCable brevity; the fact that it can be read sooner by several hours than any other Dr. Francia: these are its excellences,-considerable, though wholly of a comparative sort.

After all, brevity is the soul of wit! There is an endless merit in a man's knowing when to have done. The stupidest man, if he will be brief in proportion, may fairly claim some hearing from us: he too, the stupidest man, has seen something, heard something, which is his own, distinctly peculiar, never seen or heard by any man in this world before; let him tell us that, he, brief in proportion, shall be welcome!

no dates in these inextricable documents,) the Messrs. Robertson were lucky enough to take final farewell of Paraguay, and carry their commercial enterprises into other quarters of that vast continent, where the reign was not of terror. Their voyagings, counter-voyagings, comings and goings, seem to have been extensive, frequent, inextricably complex; to Europe, to Tucuman, to Glasgow, to Chile, to Laswade and elsewhither; too complex for a succinct intelligence, as that of our readers has to be at present. Sufficient for us to know, that the Messrs. Robertson did bodily, and for good, return to their own country some few years since; with what net result of cash is but dimly adumbrated in these documents; certainly with some increase of knowledge-had the unfolding of it but been brief in proportion! Indisputably the Messrs. Robertson had somewhat to tell their eyes had seen some new things, of which their hearts and understandings had taken hold more or less. In which circumstances the Messrs. Robertson decided on publishing a book. Arrangements being made, two volumes of "Letters on Paraguay" came out, with due welcome from the world, in 1839.

The Messrs. Robertson, with their "Francia's Reign of Terror," and other books on South America, have been much before the world of late; and failed not of a perusal from this reviewer; whose next sad duty it now is to say a word about them. The Messrs. Robertson, some thirty or five-and-thirty years ago, were two young Scotchmen, from the neighbourhood of Edinburgh, as would seem: who, under fair auspices, set out for Buenos-Ayres, thence for We have read these "Letters" for the first Paraguay, and other quarters of that remote time lately: a book of somewhat aqueous struccontinent, in the way of commercial adventure. ture: immeasurably thinner than one could Being young men of vivacity and open eye- have wished; otherwise not without merit. It sight, they surveyed with attentive view those is written in an off-hand, free-glowing, very art convulsed regions of the world; wherein it was less, very incorrect style of language, of thought, evident that revolution raged not a little; but and of conception; breathes a cheerful, eupepalso that precious metals, cowhides, Jesuits' tic, social spirit, as of adventurous South-Amebark, and multiplex commodities, were never-rican Britons, worthy to succeed in business; theless extant; and iron or brazen implements, gives one, here and there, some visible concrete ornaments, cotton and woollen clothing, and Bri- feature, some lively glimpse of those remote tish manufactures not a few, were objects of de-sun-burnt countries; and has throughout a kind sire to mankind. The brothers Robertson, acting of bantering humour or quasi-humour, a jovion these facts, appear to have prospered, to ality and healthiness of heart, which is comhave extensively flourished in their commerce; fortable to the reader, in some measure. A which they gradually extended up the river book not to be despised in these dull times: one Plate, to the city of the Seven Streams or Cur- of that extensive class of books which a reader rents, (Corrientes so called.) and higher even to can peruse, so to speak, "with one eye shut Assumpcion, metropolis of Paraguay; in which and the other not open;" a considerable luxury latter place, so extensive did the commercial for some readers. These "Letters on Parainterests grow, it seemed at last expedient that guay" meeting, as would seem, a unanimous one or both of the prosperous brothers should approval, it was now determined by the Messrs. take up his personal residence. Personal resi- Robertson that they would add a third volume, dence accordingly they did take up, one or both and entitle it "Dr. Francia's Reign of Terror.” of them, and maintain, in a fluctuating way, now They did so, and this likewise the present rein this city, now in that, of the De la Plata, viewer has read. Unluckily the authors had, Parana or Paraguay country, for a considera- as it were, nothing more whatever to say about ble space of years; how many years, in precise Dr. Francia, or next to nothing; and under this arithmetic,it is impossible, from these inextrica- condition, it must be owned they have done biy complicated documents now before us, to as- their book with what success was well possicertain. In Paraguay itself, in Assumpcion city ble. Given a cubic inch of respectable Castile itseif, it is very clear, the brothers Robertson did, soap, To lather it up in water so as to fill one successively or simultaneously, in a fluctuating puncheon wine-measure: this is the problem; inextricable manner, live for certain years; and let a man have credit (of its kind) for doing Occasionally saw Dr. Francia with their own his problem! The Messrs. Robertson have eyes, though to them or others, he had not yet picked almost every fact of significance from become notable. Rengger and Longchamp," adding some not very significant reminiscences of their own; this is the square inch of soap; you lather it up in Robertsonian loquacity, joviality, Commercial-Inn banter, Leading-Article philosophy, or other aqueous vehicles, till it fills the puncheon, the volume of four hundred pages, and say "There!" The public, it would seem, did not fling even this in the face of the

Mountains of cow and other hides, it would appear quitted those countries by movement of the brothers Robertson, to be worn out in Europe as tanned boots and horse-harness, with more or less satisfaction,-not without due profit to the merchants, we shall hope. About the time of Dr. Francia's beginning his "reign of terror," or earlier it may be, (for there are

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venders, but bought it as a puncheon filled; and the consequences are already here: Three volumes more on "South America," from the same assidious Messrs Robertson! These also, in his eagerness, this present reviewer has read; and has, alas, to say that they are sim ply the old volumes in new vocables, under a new figure. Intrinsically all that we did not already know of these three volumes,-there are craftsmen of no great eminence who will undertake to write it in one sheet! Yet there they stand, three solid-looking volumes, a thousand printed pages and upwards; three puncheons more lathered out of the old square inch of Castile soap! It is too bad. A necessitous readywitted Irishman sells you an indifferent greyhorse; steals it overnight, paints it black, and sells it to you again on the morrow; he is haled before judges, sharply cross-questioned, tried and almost executed, for such adroitness in horse-flesh: but there is no law yet as to books!

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already known; that the preliminary question be rigorously put, Are several volumes the space to hold it, or a small fraction of one volume?

On the whole, it is a sin, good reader, though there is no Act of Parliament against it; an indubitable malefaction or crime. No mortal has a right to wag his tongue, much less to wag his pen, without saying something: he knows not what mischief he does, past computation; scattering words without meaning,to afflict the whole world yet, before they cease! For thistle-down flies abroad on all winds and airs of wind: idle thistles, idle dandelions, and other idle products of Nature or the human mind, propagate themselves in that way; like to cover the face of the earth, did not man's indignant providence with reap-hook, with rake, with autumnal steel-and-tinder, intervene. It is frightful to think how every idle volume flies abroad like an idle globular downbeard, embryo of new millions; every word of it a potential seed of infinite new down beards and volumes; for the mind of man is feracious, is voracious; germinative, above all things, of the downbeard species! Why, the author corps in Great Britain, every soul of them inclined to grow mere dandelions if permitted, is now supposed to be about ten thousand strong; and the reading corps, who read merely to escape from themselves, with one eye shut and the other not open, and will put up with almost any dandelion or thing which they can read without opening both their eyes, amounts to twenty-seven millions all but a few! O could the Messrs. Robertson, spirited, articulatespeaking men, once know well in what a comparatively blessed mood you close your brief, intelligent, conclusive M. de la Condamine, and feel that you have passed your evening well and nobly, as in a temple of wisdom,-not ill and disgracefully, as in brawling tavern supper-rooms, with fools and noisy persons,-ah, in that case, perhaps the Messrs. Robertson would write their new work on Chile in part of a volume!

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M. de la Condamine, about a century ago, was one of a world-famous company that went into those equinoctial countries, and for the space of nine or ten years did exploits there. From Quito to Cuença he measured you degrees of the meridian, climbed mountains, took observations, had adventures; wild Creoles opposing Spanish nescience to human science; wild Indians throwing down your whole cargo of instruments occasionally in the heart of remote deserts, and striking work there. M. de la Condamine saw bull-fights at Cuença, five days running; and, on the fifth day, saw his unfortunate too audacious surgeon massacred by popular tumult there. He sailed the entire length of the Amazons River, in Indian canoes; over narrow Pongo rapids, over infinite mudwaters, the infinite tangled wilderness with its reeking desolation on the right hand of him and on the left;-and had mischances, adventures, and took celestial observations all the way, and made remarks! Apart altogether from his meridian degrees, which belong in a very strict sense to world-history and the advancement of all Adam's sinful posterity, this man and his party saw and suffered many hundred times as much of mere romance adventure as the Messrs. Robertson did:Madame Godin's passage down the Amazons, and frightful life-in-death amid the howling forest-labyrinths, and wrecks of her dear friends, amounts to more adventure of itself than was ever dreamt of in the Robertsonian world. And of all this M. de la Condamine gives pertinent, lucid, and conclusively intelligible and credible account in one very small octavo volume; not quite the eighth part of what Messrs. Robertson have already written, in a not pertinent, not lucid, or conclusively intelligible and credible manner. And the Messrs. Robertson talk repeatedly, in their last volumes, of writing still other volumes on Chile "if the public will encourage." The Pube will be a monstrous fool if it do. The Public ought to stipulate first that the real new knowledge forthcoming there about Chile be separated from the knowledge or ignorance * Condamine: Relation d'un Voyage dans l'Intérieur de l'Amérique méridionale.

But enough of this Robertsonian department; which we must leave to the Fates and Supreme Providences. These spirited, articulate-speaking Robertsons are far from the worst of their kind; nay, among the best, if you will;-only unlucky in this case, in coming across the autumnal steel and tinder! Let it cease to rain angry sparks on thein: enough now, and more than enough. To cure that unfortunate department by philosophical criticism-the attempt is most vain. Who will dismount on a hasty journey, with the day declining, to attack musquito-swarms with the horsewhip? Spur swiftly through them; breathing perhaps some pious prayer to heaven. By the horse whip they cannot be killed. Drain out the swamps where they are bred,-Ah, couldst thon do something towards that! And in the mean while: How to get on with this of Dr Francia. The materials, as our reader sees, are of the miserablest: mere intricate inanity (if we except poor wooden Pegger.) and little more; not facts, but broken shadows of facts; clouds of confused bluster and jargon-the whole still more bewildered in the Robertsons, by wha

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