church; and it is my firm belief that if they do, in other places where I have not been, and where, perhaps, good music (for one thing) may be heard, it is for other reasons than their attachment to any religion."

This is a bad state of things; but in the event of Cuba falling under the dominion of a nation in advance of itself, it is, perhaps, better than blind or obstinate bigotry, from which sound improvement is less likely to spring than from total carelessness.

Of the two evils the latter is much the more manageable.

After a residence of several months at Holguin, Mr. Taylor, finding the gold mine a failure, and meeting with many annoyances, determined to retrace his steps and go back to America, during a period when nothing profitable could be accomplished in Cuba. On this occasion he returned by the main road, running for the most part of the way along the bank of the Cauto, the principal river in the island.

He thus

had an opportunity of seeing another interesting and very picturesque line of country, quite different from that examined on his former route. A portion of this road was neither safe nor agree. able, having a bad reputation in the article of robbers, and in some places destitute of that most indispensable enjoyment on a journey, either for man or beast-fresh water.

Mr. Taylor eulogises with enthusiasm the admirable properties of the Cuban horses, whose powers of endurance, easiness of pace, gentle tempers, total freedom from vice, and astonishing capability of performing long journeys, with little grooming or feeding, decidedly place them above all travelling quadrupeds of their genus in the world. Let us imagine an animal tied up for two days without food or water, at the door-post of a tavern, while his master is gambling within, and then carrying the brute home many miles at a rapid pace. What a sad pity that he did not break his neck, to teach him a slight lesson in humanity. In his admiration of the horses, our author exclaims :

"For racing, running, hunting, leaping, ay, and ploughing, and drawing tons weight of loads, commend us to England for horses; but, for long journeys on horseback, and for all general purposes of a gentleman's saddle horse,

believe me, Cuba can furnish that desideratum in perfection; and, when my fortune shall be made, I certainly propose to send to Cuba for one, even though his transport should cost me a quiet hundred or so extra."

These Cuban saddle horses are always kept as stallions. They neither shy, start, bite, nor kick. The favourite pace is what is called the "andadura," or true pace, which they acquire when in a state of nature, without training.

A "troton," or pure trotter, is held by the natives in utter abomination. It is considered so disreputable to be seen mounted on one, that even the lazy Spaniard would rather walk.

By this road Mr. Taylor descended into St. Jago, from the summit of a majestic eminence, the view from which, but on a much greater scale, reminded him of that from the Three Rock Mountain, near Dublin, and of a similar one on the Limerick side of the road to Killarney. In the distance could be distinguished the loom of the Blue Mountains in Jamaica, above one hundred miles away in a direct line. There is nothing extraordinary in this, considering the height of the ground on which the travellers stood. We once distinctly saw the Peak of Teneriffe, from the deck of a man-of-war, on a very clear day, when our distance from its base, by observation with the quadrant, and mathematical calculation, was 157 nautical miles. Some of the peaks of the Cuban mountains ascend to 8,000 feet. The Blue Mountains in Jamaica reach 7,000; the Peak of Teneriffe exceeds 13,000. One of the greatest curiosities encountered by Mr. Taylor in Cuba, he describes as a very small specimen of humanity," but at the same time one of the toughest that ever fell in his way. A little, prattling, merry fellow, engaged as a guide or conductor, in the shape of a Cuban Spaniard, named Torribio de la Torre, who, though under eight stone weight, was unmatched as a wrestler. He overthrew, in close conflict, and with apparent ease, a gigantic Hibernian Hercules, and gave desperate falls to sundry Cornishmen, who by descent were professors in the art. None of his adversaries could find out his trick or baffle it, and what appears still more extraordinary for a Spaniard, he was

never seen to smoke tobacco.

On his return to Cuba, Mr. Taylor

landed at Gibara, pronounced Heevara, the port of entry to the district of Holguin, where he was surprised to find, in such a remote spot, so many English residents, amounting in number to seventy-four. This place, and the surrounding neighbourhood, he describes also as being "beautiful exceedingly." As far as the external magnificence of nature can embellish a country, Cuba appears to be a second garden of Eden. We have an interesting and perspicuous summary of some of the leading geological features in this district, including a description of a remarkable cave in the Saddle Mountain, the complete examination of which has been impeded by the stench of millions of bats, who have long held undisputed possession. Perhaps they might be fumigated out by some process with tobacco or sulphur.

The author also alludes to a very extraordinary phenomenon which exhibits itself on two or three of the coldest nights in the year, from the peaks of some of the highest mountains. This is the appearance of a bright light, of conical shape and considerable size. It appeared while he was in Cuba, but he was not in a locality from whence it was visible. There is also a mineral spring compounded of salt, sulphur, and hydrogen gas, the medicinal virtues of which are not described, but which the neighbouring inhabitants designate, for distinction, the "arroyo hediondo," or stinking rivulet.

Towards the conclusion of this work two considerable chapters are devoted to the present state of Negro slavery in Cuba, with theories of the author for its extinction. His notions will not accord with those of the abolitionists; but he has studied the subject well, and his opinions are worthy of attention. The whole question is a very complicated one, which can only be unravelled by time. It is manifestly inconsistent

with Christian doctrine that such an institution as slavery should exist at all. Yet in many cases the name is worse than the reality; nor has it yet appeared that the worldly status of the emancipated slaves is as good as it was before the abolition, while that of the former owners is undeniably worse. The average condition of the West Indian slave (we speak more immediately with reference to our own islands) was, and is, as good as that of many peasants in England, and far better than that of his free brother in Ireland; but

slavery must and will be abolished everywhere as civilisation advances. The subject, in all its bearings, has been profoundly considered by good and enlightened men. Reason and religion both say, no human being should be the born or purchased thrall of another. There is no such inheritance, and no such right of barter. Reason is the governing power of the nineteenth century, and every opposing force will in the long run go down be fore it. Whatever the Americans may think to the contrary, they will have to emancipate their Negro serfs, or the serfs will do it for themselves, whenever war brings them, which in the course of events it assuredly will, the aid of foreign auxiliaries. The material point for the really benevolent legislator to consider is, how the object can be effected with the least amount of injury to the different interests concerned.

Mr. Taylor informs us, that, at the eastern extremity of Cuba, in a wild and rugged district, surmounted by the lofty "Sierra del Cristal," there exists a mysterious, and somewhat lawless, settlement called Palenque, compounded of wild Indians and run-a-way Negroes; insulated, independent, and barbarous. They laugh at the decrees and expeditions of the government, which are never issued in earnest, or undertaken on a formidable scale. Their position is supposed to be connived at as a convenient safety valve for all the dangerous and discontented elements in the island, and a pretty focus of iniquity they must have contrived to establish. There is a secrecy and romantic uncertainty attached to this strange colony, which reminds us of the aboriginal city mentioned by Stephens, which credulous Padres reported to him as existing in central America, where, according to their traditions, European foot has never ventured to intrude, and the first inhabitants, without mixture, or the slightest alteration from their native manners, customs, and language, are still said to live among themselves in primæval seclusion. The story is doubtless an invention, but a very imaginative and attractive one. We wonder some of our popular novelists have never thought of embodying it in a work of fiction. Mr. Taylor was strongly inclined to visit Palenque, but was deterred by two considerations: if he went alone, he was sure to be murdered; and if in

company with others, the government would have heard of the affair, and have imprisoned him for life.

In 1843-4, Cuba was visited by a long-protracted drought, and famine, which carried death, and desolation, and poverty, throughout the island, but the details of which our author passes over, as too harrowing for minute recital. He sums up the result by saying it was utterly ruinous, and led to his fixed desire and determination of escaping from scenes and pursuits whence, as he says, the country itself seemed determined to cast him forth, never having given him one chance. In Sept., 1845, he left the island, which, however beautiful and fertile in itself, had been to him anything but a land overflowing with milk and honey, or realised promise; and departed from Cuba, never to return, in a schooner bound for New York.

We wish he had found an opportu nity of visiting the great and flourishing city of Havana, a detailed description of which, in its present state, has never yet been given to us. A very imposing looking place it is, with fine churches, convents, and other public buildings. Were it not for the tropical trees and fruits, with a mixture of Negro and coloured population, it resembles a town in old Spain so perfectly, that when traversing the well-built, antique looking streets and squares, you can, without much stretch of imagination, fancy yourself in Barcelona, Valencia, or Carthagena. We spent a few days there in 1815, at the conclusion of the American war, when there was a large English fleet in the harbour, and many English regiments in crowded transports. In those days we were neither observant nor reflective, but passed our time in flying about in "volantas," and in discussing good dinners, at an English hotel, in the "Gran Plaza," having for many weeks before exercised our masticating energies on ship beef and pork, hard enough to be chopped with a cleaver; and still harder peas, with no liquid more generous than the simple element.

The harbour of Havana will contain one thousand ships; the water is deep enough for the largest three decker, and the entrance is so narrow that not more than one vessel can conveniently sail in or out at the same time. It is completely land-locked, and protected by extensive fortifications. On the

left-hand side of the entrance, as you go in, on a precipitous rock, stands the celebrated castle, called 66 El Moro," which looks impregnable, and as if it could easily blow an invading fleet out of the water. Nevertheless, it was carried by storm in 1762, by the British forces under Lord Albemarle and Admiral Pococke. We walked over this formidable citadel, and looked on the spot where the breach was effected, and through which the gallant warriors forced their entrance. The chasm appeared impassable, and we have read that when the victors themselves gazed down on it, they wondered how they had got in, and thought their own achievement a fable of the days of chivalry. The_obstacles men will surmount in the ardour of attack are quite incredible. The same soldiers who drove the French from their position on the sand hills near Alexandria, on the 8th of March, 1801,under Abercrombie, when they tried to run up on the following day, could scarcely reach the summit, without halting, though there was no enemy to oppose them. If the Moro was held by an English garrison, there exists not on earth the attacking force that could win it from them by assault.

Just before winding up his volume, Mr. Taylor falls foul of Dr. Madden, who published a small treatise on Cuba and its resources in 1849, and charges him with ignorance of the Spanish language, and gross mis-statements and mistakes:

"Can we,' says he, place reliance on any traveller, who, professing to have obtained his information from personal examinations and conversations with all classes of Spaniards and Negroes, yet in every page betrays a decided ignorance of the language? Surely if a man only half learn a language, and then presume on that knowledge, it is worse than if he bad not learned it at all. Under these circumstances, it is not surprising that I have found thirty-four errors in the first thirty-seven pages."

Taking this for granted, it is almost as bad as the number of mistakes detected, by a sharp investigator, in a single chapter of Voltaire's Universal History, and for which we suspect Dr. Madden could scarcely give so plausible a reason as the witty Frenchman did, who pleaded guilty to his embellishments, but said he put them in to make his book read the better. But we should have been more pleased if this

passage had been omitted. It is not graceful in a writer to assail a brother scribe. He should leave him to the tender mercies of the reviewers, whose legitimate province it is to discover and castigate these delinquencies. As the old Scotch proverb says, "Corbies should na pick out corbies' een." If you are attacked, defend yourself tooth and nail, but never throw the first stone.

And now, what will become of Cuba? The question is important, and not easily answered. Many eyes and thoughts are turned towards her, forgetful of the last injunction in the decalogue. The island is weak, under an effète government, and ready to be sold or seized. America has long had yearnings towards this fair possession. It would form an invaluable outpost in case of war with any great European power, or in the event of prospective conquests. It would also weigh as an additional slavestate to counterbalance California, with a productive revenue under improved administration. In 1815, England might have obtained Cuba by fair treaty, in payment of a large debt due by Spain, which was wiped out for nothing. There was then no power to gainsay or oppose the transfer, but the opportunity was suffered to slip away. By a strange application of underprized magnanimity, our sapient legislators then gave everything when they might have kept all, and asked for nothing, not even a single commercial treaty, in exchange. The other nations who reaped the advantage of what we had paid dearly for, laughed in their sleeves, but we were so intoxicated with glory and success, that we heeded them not. For years, when island after island, and colony after colony, fell before our arms, and people asked "what are they all good for?" the answer was, "they will do to give up at a peace." And so they were all given up-Martinique,and Guadaloupe, and Bourbon, and Java-while unprofitable and expensive rocks were retained. And, worse than all, Sicily was abandoned back to Neapolitan tyranny and ignorance; Sicily, which had been promised a British constitution under British protection! What an island would that have been by this time under such auspices! Talk of Naples subjugating rebellious Sicily!

Why, if the power of Sicily was led by English generals, with some half-pay English officers under them, and two or three thousand old soldiers, in the shape of an English legion, to show the way; they would not only liberate themselves, but would root out the iniquity of perhaps the very worst of the old rotten despotisms of the Continent. The Sicilians can and will fight. The Neapolitans deserted even the gallant Murat at the first volley. They can do nothing but run away, or murder from behind å hedge. But this is a digression.

In 1837, the Cubans would have thrown off the Spanish sovereignty if their independence could have been guaranteed under British protection. Again, the hour and the accomplishment glided by. If we are to believe the American papers (a suspicious authority), they are now anxious to pass under the banner of the United States, and become incorporated with AngloSaxon America. Nay more, it is said, that Spain will sell her dominionship for one hundred millions of dollars, and that the colonists are willing and readyto raise this sum, if America will accept the bargain. All this sounds and looks plausible, but we neither think it true, nor likely to happen. Cuba is larger and has more internal resources than half the secondrate powers of Europe. The revenue is nearly five millions sterling, out of which she entirely supports herself, maintains a large Spanish army of 20,000 men and upwards, and remits to the mother country a million-and-a

quarter annually. The population at present scarcely exceeds one million souls, a small amount for the extent of territory. But population depends much on good or bad government, and increases rapidly with active enterprise and expended capital. It would be better for the peace of the world, the general improvement of society, and the balance of human interests, that Cuba should be independent, than a province or colony of either England or America. Let her be delivered from Spain by honourable compromise, and placed on her own merits, under the joint pro tection of the two great maritime and commercial powers, and we are much mistaken if all parties are not benefited by the arrangement.

Of all knights, and of all lovers, the Moor-Arab of Spain, towards the close of the fifteenth century, was the pink, the palm, the prime, the jewel, and the flower. Reverses and an opprobrious name had reduced him, at the beginning of the next, to the level of the world. Granada was taken; the Moro changed into the Morisco,-that is, insult was added to injury, and the pride of Moorish chivalry was at an end. Ballads took the place of battles, the lute supplanted the lance, and the proscribed and unfortunate Morisco was fain to tinkle his woes to the burthen of his own sad thoughts and those of his countrymen, and to draw tears, perchance, for blood.

It is not entertaining to begin by a digression, or we might here say a word on certain points of resemblance between the Moriscoes and our unlucky selves in this respect; and exhibit the affinity between the Moorish chitarra and the Irish harp:-a parallel might be drawn between the pathetic monotony of the music of Granada, and the subdued and minor cadences of our native minstrelsy; and both might be referred to causes not entirely dissimilar;—but, in accordance with established usage, as well as for sundry other prudential reasons, we forbear; and, for the present casting politics, patriotism, and all that sort of thing, overboard, to take their place beside Prospero's book, deeper than did ever plummet sound, we land, without so much as a knapsack of nationality about us, on the quay of Malaga "the royal," the chief port of Moorish Spain.

Here we are in two worlds, the present and the past-Christian and Mahometan. The former we will leave to its desert, that is, to its oranges and raisins, together with its olives and its cigars, its heat, roguery, mirth, intrigue, superstition, and filth. The latter overlooks us from the grim old bastions of the Gibalfaro, peering threateningly into every street, like a bad conscience. The truth is, it has ugly whispers for Spain, making it tremble as it "thinks upon her towers," and the miseries endured in that fortress and the city it overshadows, in 1487.

The Moorish empire was even then tottering to its fall. Abu Abdallah, or Boabdil, or Bobadil, as the name grew at length by repeated corruptions, Latin, Spanish, and English, was still weakly struggling against his valiant old uncle, El Zagal, while the Castilian power was thundering at his gates. Divided against itself, the kingdom of Granada was as sure to fall as that of Lucifer before it. Nevertheless a stubborn old dog of an African whom El Zagal had placed in Malaga, was determined to nail his crescent to the sky. Hamet Zeli picked his men, retired into the citadel, and swore by his beard, a considerable oath, from which his barber alone could absolve him, that he would eat the citizens when the other vermin failed, rather than open his gates to that dog of a Ferdinand, to say nothing of Isabella his queen, whom he roundly favoured with the corresponding epithet.

In this posture of affairs, deeds of valour incredible and indescribable were done on both sides, by the aristocracy of Castile and of Granada, aunque Moros, hijosdalgo, here brought en evidence of Europe and Africa at once, like the neighbouring Gibel-el-Taric, or Gibraltar. Amongst the Arab nobles, Abrahen Zenete was conspicuous; and indeed, sometimes shamed the Spanish chivalry by his Christian-like and orthodox courtesy. But there were men of another stamp amongst them; and as Spain had its Torquemada, its Ojedo, and its Merla, so had Malaga ferocious rabitos of its own, comrades of their general, the Gomeres, African mercenaries, who had brought with them across the strait the ferocity of Barbary, uncooled by any admixture of peninsular civilisation.

Of some of these the deeds are perpetuated in the literature of the day; but the greater part have settled down side by side with the worthies who flourished before Agamemnon, under the pressure of three hundred fathom, or years, of oblivion. A ballad is an excellent float upon the stream of time, where the heaviest things commonly go to the bottom. Some flies have, no doubt, owed their preservation to the amber of the unctuous Peter Martyr,