SINCE a liberal form of government has taken the place of arbitrary power in Spain, most of the Spanish exiles resident here are preparing to return to their emancipated country. Among these exiles were some of the most distinguished men in Spain; and upon the whole there were but few of them who had not attained celebrity either as political or literary characters. But by far the most respectable of their number were the Constitutionales or Liberales, who, as it is well known, shared the same fate as the Josephinos or Afrancesados. It was singular enough that the heads of the two great parties, into which the nation had been divided, should have been assembled together for several years in the French capital; but a parity of misfortune had produced no union between them. The Liberales retained even in exile a contemptuous pride, founded, however, on the noblest patriotism, towards those who had espoused the cause of the oppressor of Spain, who assisted him in the subjugation of their native land, and were rewarded for it with pensions, while they who had fought or laboured for the independence of their country lived in honourable poverty. Strictly speaking, the Spanish Afrancesados originally set out with the same principles as the Liberales, to whom they were afterwards opposed as enemies with the exception of some few, who aspired only to places and distinctions, and cared little or nothing about the welfare of their country, they were desirous of promoting liberal opinions, and emancipating Spain from the mental slavery under which it has groaned ever since the establishment of the Inquisition. Hence they espoused with zeal the party of the usurper, whose preponderating power rendered him master of Spain, and who promised it an intellectual and moral regeneration. They conceived that the fate of the Peninsula was decided, and that it was now their duty to unite with this power which had already subjected great part of Europe, and contribute to the moral and political transformation of their country. So far their notions were excusable, for in other countries enlightened men had entertained the same, and hoped to obtain from a conqueror what they despaired of obtaining from their own governments. When, however, these Spa.

niards observed that the whole nation, with few exceptions, had spurned the foreign yoke, and taken upon itself the work of regeneration, it should have, been their first duty to repent of their error, and to atone for it by rejoining the ranks of their fellow-citizens. But the wily conqueror had already bound them to himself by preferments and honours, and instead of retracing their dis honourable career, they were now compelled to advance along with the French. Even in this track some of them were of service to the country, in striving, as much as possible, to mitigate the execu tion of the rigid and frequently cruel measures commanded by the French ; ̧ but these efforts produced scarcely any alleviation of the general calamity, to which they had themselves contributed. The natural consequence was a national antipathy, to which their lives would probably have been sacrificed, had they not quitted Spain with the French army, France granted them pensions, and se veral, who had relinquished all hopes of being re-admitted into their native land, had enrolled themselves in the number of French citizens. Outcasts from their country, shame impelled some of them to vindicate their conduct in writing. Hence resulted a great number of works, which are any thing but a justification of their authors, which disgust by the charges advanced in them against the ins dependent part of the nation, but nevertheless contain much interesting infor mation, and many historical facts. To this class belong the publications of O'Farill, Amoros, Llorente, Sempere, and others. Several of these works gained the Jose phinos great applause in France, because! they closely coincided with the senti ments of the military party there. Upon the whole these Josephinos have experi enced a very favourable reception in France, and though their income was not considerable, still they have never wanted the means of subsistence. The most distinguished of them resided in Paris, and others in certain towns in the south of France, which were allotted to them as depôts. Many strove, like the French emigrants at the time of the revolution, to support themselves by their industry and talents; the ecclesiastics by the performance of clerical duties, and others in various ways. Amoros, as it is well known, has set up here for a

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teacher of gymnastics. Llorente, who was obstructed by the clergy here in the exercise of his canonical functions, on account of his celebrated work on the Inquisition, taught the Spanish language in the colleges of this city. These two having, as counsellors of state to King Joseph, little to hope for in Spain, remain here for the present, at least till they see how the Afrancesados are received by the Spanish people. Some of them, who, as it seems, would cheer fully sacrifice their opinions for a favourable reception, have been thrown into no little embarrassment by what they have formerly written. Thus M. Sempere violently attacked the Cortes of 1812, not supposing that their resolutions, repealed by King Ferdinand, would ever again become the order of the day; but the events of the month of March have made him a little wiser. An ultra-royalist publication here lately played him a provoking trick, by extracting several strong passages from his book by way of supporting its own opinions on which M. Sempere lost no time in putting forth a protest, in which he says, that when he wrote his book he did not consider the Cortes as a valid authority, because it was not then recognized by the King; but at present the case is widely different." Another of these Afrancesados was just printing a work against the Cortes, when the 9th of March reinstated this national assembly in its functions; the press was immediately stopped, and all the sheets that had been worked off were turned into waste paper.

The exiled Liberales were never betrayed into such inconsistencies. They never pestered the public with memorials and vindications, for they needed no such expedients for their justification. They were conscious that they had done nothing but what the interests of their country commanded; they had carried with them beyond its frontiers the regret of all their fellow-citizens, and waited with patience in a foreign land, till their sovereign should open his eyes to the unhappy state of the kingdom, drive his false advisers from his presence, and act conformably with the general wish. That they never thought of personal revenge is demonstrated by the following fact: There appeared in England a monthly publication in Spanish, under the title of El Constitucional Espannol, which inculcated highly liberal principles, but at the same time at tacked, without mercy, the person of NEW MONTHLY MAG,-No. 81.

A third, though very small class of exiles, consisted of those who had of late years rendered themselves formidable by their military enterprises against the then subsisting order of things, and who were obliged to quit Spain, lest they should be punished as criminals. At the head of these was Mina, the most celebrated of all the Spanish exiles resident here. Many erroneous statements have been published respecting this remarkable character, but I can pledge myself for the accuracy of the following particulars :

Don Francisco Espoz y Mina, descended from a family of some consequence, was born in 1782, at the village of Ydocin, two miles from Pampeluna. When the French commenced their expedition against Spain, his nephew, who was then a student at the university of Saragossa, felt the patriotic impulse to raise a guerilla for the defence of his country, and invited his uncle to join. him. Several friends of similar sentiments ranged themselves under their banners, and soon formed a corps of five hundred men; but the nephew unfortunately fell into the hands of the French, in March 1810, and was carried to France, where he was treated by Buonaparte, not as a prisoner of war, but as a state prisoner. The Junta of Valencia then transferred to the uncle the chief command of the guerilla, which gradually increased in number till it became a considerable corps d'armée, consisting of three battalions. At the head of this corps, Espoz y Mina displayed extraordinary military talents, which established his fame and excited universal admiration. With the greatest boldness and success his guerilla maintained its post in Navarre and part of Arragon, between the two hostile armies, scouring the country in all directions, taking whole convoys, frequently intercepting the communications between the enemy's generals, and keeping up the spirit of insurrection in every quarter. His country was not ungrateful for the important services which he performed for it: in 1811 he was appointed colonel by the Regency, then resident at Cadiz ; in the following year he was promoted to the rank of brigadier-general, and soon

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afterwards to that of mariscal de campo, or general. In 1813 he was at the head of a division of 11,000 infantry and 2500 cavalry, and had the chief command over Navarre, Upper Arragon, and what are termed the Provincias Bas-congadas. With this force he assisted in the re duction of Pampeluna, and took Tafalla, Saragossa, Monzon, Venazque, and Huesca. In 1814, when the allied army under the Duke of Wellington penetrated into France, Mina's troops belonged to the fourth division commanded by General Freyre; he took Jacas, advanced to Oleron, and was besieging St. Jean Pied-de-port, when peace was concluded. His corps, 14,000 in number, was then distributed in Navarre, Arragon, and Biscay; and when the king return ed to Madrid, Mina repaired to the capital, and represented to the Monarch, with his native frankness, in what manner Spain ought thenceforward to be treated. His homely truths displeased the parasites and courtiers by whom the King was surrounded since his return, and they determined to be revenged on the honest soldier. When Mina found that no good was to be effected at court, he set out again for Navarre, to resume the command of his division; but the advisers of the King had been beforehand with him, for, on his arrival at Pampeluna, he found himself superseded by General Espeleta, and measures in progress for disbanding his division. It was at the same time that all those who had entitled themselves to the gratitude of their country, but were not dependent on the faction of the serviles, were dis

missed from the service.

This treatment revolted Mina's soul. With his usual impetuosity he concentrated part of his troops, and marched upon Pampeluna; but a chaplain and some of the officers betrayed and frustrated his design. Attempts were even made to secure his person, and he was obliged to flee with some of his officers to France, to escape the fate which subsequently befel Porlier and Lascy. But he was not yet safe from persecution. The Spanish ambassador, Count de Casa Flores, a creature of the court party, had the presumption to dispatch a French commissary of police to apprehend Mina, and to detain him in prison till farther orders. When Louis XVIII. was informed of this arbitrary proceeding of a foreign ambassador in his dominions, he was justly incensed, and commanded the immediate release of Mina; the commissary lost his place,

and the court of Spain was obliged to recal its ambassador. A pension of 6000 francs was settled on Mina, and 2000 on his secretary. This noble and generous act will reflect everlasting honour on the royal donor. It was not thrown away upon Mina, who in his subsequent conduct manifested his attachment to the Bourbon dynasty. When, in 1815, Buonaparte had suddenly repossessed himself of the throne, he made offers of succour to Mina, who then resided in Champagne, for the purpose of kindling a fresh insurrection in Spain. Mina rejected with disdain the overtures of the oppressor of his country, and quitted the French territory that he might not be subject to Buonaparte's farther caprices. He first fled to Switzerland, and thence proceeded immediately to Ghent, to rejoin the King, with whom he returned after the battle of Waterloo to Paris, where he lived very retired till the national insurrection in Spain at the commencement of the present year. In all probability he then received invitation from his countrymen and companions in arms to co-operate in the re-establishment of the constitution; and his determination was speedily formed. Among other idle tales the newspapers related that the Spanish ambassador employed a young female of his own nation as a spy upon Mina's motions, and that Mina feigned illness, that under this pretext he might steal away unobserved: so much, however, is certain, that from the commencement of the insurrection in Spain he was very closely watched at the instance of the Spanish ambassador, and that he was obliged to use some precautions to get off unmolested. The ultra-royalist journals here were, in consequence, loud in abuse of him, remarking that it well became one who was receiving a pension from a monarch of the house of Bourbon to draw his sword against the Bourbon throne in Spain. Mina knew better than these writers how to serve his country and his king. Since his return to Spain he has addressed an admirable letter to Louis XVIII. thanking him for the favours received at his majesty's hands.

No sooner had he crossed the Pyrenees than his name sufficed to procure him partizans. Though Navarre was still dependent on the court, yet, in the valley where he fixed his abode, he had soon collected round him several hundred men, and, small as this force was, he nevertheless resolved to march with it against Pampeluna, when the inha

bitants sent a deputation to inform him that the city had accepted the constitution, and to invite him to enter in a peaceable manner. As Mina's object was now accomplished, he dismissed his little corps, and accompanied by a few friends entered the city amid the acclamations of the people. It is publicly known that he has since been appointed to the chief command in Navarre, which he held at the dissolution of the Cortes in 1814.

Mina has passed almost all his life in the country, and in his appearance exactly resembles a rustic. His language is that of the peasants of Navarre, and a well-educated Spaniard often finds it difficult to understand him. He is wholly incapable of writing, and probably not one of his proclamations was composed by himself. He speaks of his achievements with such unaffected modesty, as if he had been only one of the co-operating persons, and not the leader

and conqueror. For the rest, he speaks but little and ill. Mina's genius first displayed itself in the field: there his sagacity, his presence of mind, and his boldness in the formation and execution of plans, were developed with astonishing rapidity. He must have the enemy before him to shew what this lofty genius is capable of performing, and how far his natural military talents extend. At home he is an ordinary man, and in time of peace many a person of inferior capacity would be better fitted for business than this highly-gifted boor. Hence it is not to be expected that he will appear to advantage in his present command; indeed he has already taken some imprudent steps and embroiled himself with the municipal authorities of Pampeluna: but should his country once more need his services in the field, it will soon find again in him the celebrated guerilla leader of 1812.

IT is one of the distinctive characteristics of the animal which naturalists politely call homo sapiens, that he has the power of communicating histhoughts by speech. This faculty is peculiar to him, at least he says so, though we have the evidence of the Arabian Tales and sop to the contrary. At present however, as we have not the capacity which a certain caliph had of understanding the language of our brother brutes, and feathered relations, we shall confine ourselves to the tongues of our two-legged brethren, the homines sapieutes.

What a variety of talkers and talk the world affords! We begin to talk before we have any thing to say, and we do not leave off talking, though we have said all we had to say. You hear people talk ing about things they do understand and things they do not understand, in season and out of season, to persons, and of persons, and at persons, nay rather than not talk at all, a man will talk to himself; and so strong is the passion, that he will frequently talk in his sleep. We shall endeavour to enumerate a few of the great variety of talkers.

Beginning de minimis, we shall first say a word or two of what may be called the silent talkers, people who say very

little, and very frequently have a great deal to say. This class, however, is very small. It is chiefly composed of persons who have had very little to do with the world, and do not care much about it, who are not desirous of shining, and who being too fond of retiring and quiet would rather listen to other people talking nonsense than hear themselves talk sense. They are not generally deficient in talent, but they want courage to display it, and they suffer empty-headed fools to engross all the conversation with the flippant babble of their own vain tongues, instead of boldly excluding them from the field, by put ting forth the strength of their own powerful intellects. Amongst this class may in general be reckoned those men of letters who have spent more time in study than in society, and who, as Addison said of himself, are not worth nine pence of ready cash in conversation, but who can draw for thousands in the retirement of their own closets. These are the people whom Cowper mentions when he says,

We sometimes think we could a speech produce

Much to the purpose, if our tongues were loose;

But being tied, it dies upon the lip,
Faint as a chicken's note that has the pip
Our wasted oil unprofitably burns,
Like hidden lamps in old sepulchral urns.

And this is also the case, more or less, with every man on his first en trance into life, unless he be insufferably impudent, when he will not care what he says, nor any body else either.

Just the reverse to these are your incessant talkers, who whether they talk sense or nonsense are almost equally annoying. They are people, who in Shakspeare's words have got "the dis ease of not listening." When you unexpectedly meet with a man of this kind, it is like getting under a showerbath, and when you expect the pelting stream to cease, finding it still flowing on with unabating violence. There is no safety with such people but in flight. It is in vain to remonstrate, or rather to strive to remonstrate, for you might as well think to cram another hour into the twenty-four, or to stop with your forefinger the whirl of a water-wheel as to interpose a word in such a discourse, or stop it before the speaker's breath is spent. If you endeavour to urge any topic in mitigation of punishment you only add fresh fuel to the flame; if you tell your enemy you have an engagement, he will give you a history of his own, past, present, and to come; if you plead indisposition, he will tell you all about his last influenza and all the doctor said, and all he forgot to say, and all he ought to have said; in short there is not a single topic upon which he will not "discourse most excellent music." Men and women and children of all ranks and ages mingle in this class.

But the worst of all are your tedious and prolix talkers. This fault, however, is generally confined to those having authority, for other people quickly find that they can get nobody to listen to them. Oh! the horror of being stuck down by the side of some ancient great aunt, or some patronizing friend, and being condemned patiently to keep our ears open to the almost noiseless but uninterrupted flow of vapid words which issue from the respected mouth. The only remedy in such cases is to employ the thoughts about more pleasant matters, but then this is a very hazardous attempt, as it is done at the imminent peril of a discovery, should our patron happen to put his spectacles on and see the wandering looks in our face; and what an agony it is to be detained in this manner when you are burningly eager to pursue some other object, the chance of which every moment and every long drawled-out word are rendering more remote. The remedy which we recommended in the

last case, in this it is impossible to apply, as flight would be the greatest insult in the world. Patience, then, and a nod of the head at every pause, (if there should happen to be any,) are the only things to be recommended; and a person, on the conclusion of his sufferings, should be particularly careful not to let that heavy sigh of relief burst out, which marks the sudden ceasing of pain.

The imprudent, or mal-à-propos talkers are a very dangerous body of men, and they do more mischief than any other class. They are perpetually, by some infatuation or other, hitting on the only things in the world that ought not to be mentioned in that company, and while they are as innocent as the child unborn, of any intention to offend, they are continually harrowing up the feel-、 ings of their friends, or putting them out of countenance. The root of their disease is inattention to the characters and feelings of others: thus they talk of halters and gibbets in the presence of a man whose brother has had the misfortune to be hanged-they dilate on the happiness of a married life before a man who has just buried a young and beautiful wife; and say a thousand other things which scare the company "from their propriety." For this disease there seems no remedy in the world: it is really incurable. In the same class may be placed the absent talkers, who speak without knowing what they are saying, and ask questions to which they alone are able to give answers. These inquire after the health of people whose deaths they have seen that morning in the obituary of the newspaper-ask an unmarried lady how all her family do, aud hope the parents of an orphan are in good health. With such people, their thoughts have nothing to do with their tongues.

The vulgar talker is an intolerable animal. Vulgarity does not depend on the station in life which a man occupies, but is rather a habit of mind, of which the origin cannot often be traced. Amongst many of the lower classes of society, there is the most perfect propriety of language and manner when they are introduced into the presence of their superiors; while rank, and riches, and fashion, are often accompanied with great vulgarity, not only of mind, but of manner. In whatever rank or company he may be found, the vulgar talker is an impenetrable nuisance-he puts every body else out of countenance, when he