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have obtained no notice, unless perhaps he had excited some wonder how so diminutive a lad had contrived to perch himself on so large a steed. Seen nearer, however, it was easy to discern that it was no ordinary urchin, who, with a sabre nearly as long as himself buckled at his side, a light lance slung on his right arm, and the silver epaulette of a cornet of cavalry covering his left shoulder and falling nearly to the elbow, had intruded in so unceremonious a manner on the party of officers. His low stature, which did not exceed five feet English, and his slender frame, were those of a boy of twelve or thirteen; but his features, although pale and delicate, and without a sign of beard, had a character of fierce resolution befitting a veteran. His limbs, although slight, were nervous and wiry; his dress was a short green jacket and scarlet overalls; and his boina, which was brought very forward on the forehead, threw a dark shade over his face, from out of which his eyes gleamed like live coals. A bright red spot was on each cheekbone, the effect probably of excitement, or of the sharp pace at which he had ridden; and as he stared haughtily, almost savagely, round the circle into which he had broken, he presented as pretty a specimen of a budding guerilla chieftain, as could be met with even in Spain. Such was Don Martin Zurbano, the younger son of the well-known partizan of that name.*

"Que es esto, Señorito ?" was the first question of the astonished colonel; "what means all this violent haste, and lack of ceremony? Have the Carlists taken Vittoria, or what other important event has caused this sudden outbreak on the part of your worship and band?"

"The matter is this," replied the boy, without paying attention to the sneering manner of his interrogator, and speaking in a voice which, although shrill as that of a child, was

so piercing and energetic in its tones that it seemed to command attention: "Antonio Perez, my father's lieutenant, was last night carried off by the factious from the venta of Armentia. A spy brought us the intelligence at noon to-day, and also that the detachment which surprised him had been ordered to take him to Guevara, that the rebel who commands on the lines of Alava might stare at him before he was shot. From the road they took they cannot have passed Alegria as yet, nor will they, now you are close to it; but they will go through yonder hamlet on your right front, and I have come out with what men I could muster to cut them off."

"In doing which, you will have an excellent chance of being cut off yourself," replied the colonel. "In the very hamlet you point out, are nearly five hundred of the enemy, and you do not appear to muster more than half that number."

"Thereabouts. Some of our men were on escort duty, and others in the wine-shops; and as the case brooked no delay, I came out with those who assembled at the first sound of the trumpet. My father too is ill, and in bed, or he would have been out with us. But, colonel, you will surely aid me with part of your force, since the enemy muster so strong?"

"Not so fast, young sir," replied the officer. "My orders were to collect forage, and not to risk the loss of men, or even of cartridges, unnecessarily; and, since you have come thus far to rescue your comrade, you must carry it through with your own men, or else give up your intention, which is in truth rather Quixotic."

Young Barea did not deign to reply, but made a gesture of contempt; and, turning his horse, galloped back to the road on which he had left his cavalry halted. The infantry had just come up, and he addressed himself to a grimlooking old soldier who headed them,

* This high-spirited, and really extraordinary lad, who, at the period alluded to above, was only fifteen years of age, and cornet of cavalry, served under his father's banner during the whole of the war, and distinguished himself on numerous occasions. He was remarkable for his headlong courage, and deadly hatred of the Carlists. An excellent horseman, and possessed of natural talents for guerilla warfare, he was entrusted with the command of men at an age when most boys are under the ferula of a schoolmaster. He has since shot up into a more manly stature and appearance, and before the close of the war had arrived at the rank of captain, at which grade, however, he is not likely to remain stationary, should opportunities be afforded him of meriting farther advancement.

his own command only extending to the cavalry :-" The poltron who is in charge of the battalion refuses to act, alleging that he has no orders. He says there are five hundred Carlists in the village; but his fears have doubtless exaggerated the number, and were there a thousand I will save Perez or die.' And he was about to lead his handful of cavalry forward, when the other, whose age gave him rather more prudence than was to be found in the hot head of young Martin, checked him.

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"We have somewhat more than a mile to the village," he said; "the first turning on the right leads directly to it. Advance quietly up the lane I will divide the infantry on the flanks; and, when within a hundred yards of the houses, we'll charge with the bays onet, whilst you at the same time can make a rush with the lancers."

placed on their knees opposite to a firing party. Some confusion was

apparent amongst the Carlists when Zurbano's cavalry came in sight, its approach not having been previously visible to them, owing to the narrowness of the lane, which was fringed with trees, and tall hedges.

"Perez ! Perez! a ellor !"* cried, or rather screamed young Martin, the instant the above scene burst on his view, and, driving his spurs into his charger, he dashed at a mad gallop over the deep and broken ground, closely followed by his men. Notwithstanding their furious speed, they had scarcely got over a quarter of the distance between them and the enemy, when the fatal word "fuego" was heard, quickly followed by the rattle of a dozen muskets; the two prisoners fell on their faces, and the Carlists, giving a hasty and ill-directed volley, The words were hardly uttered were in full retreat out of the village. when the eager boy was off at a trot, Martin followed closely on their track, scarcely attending to the advice that and no quarter was given to those who was shouted after him to be prudent, came within reach of his or his men's and let the infantry get well up before lances. The infantry, which came up he charged. He moved up the lane, a few moments later, joined in the purhowever, at a tolerably steady pace, suit of the flying enemy, who were and soon saw the infantry divided into chased with great loss close under the two small and compact bodies, moving walls of Guevara. Nearly sixty slain rapidly over the fields on his right and Carlists paid for the deaths of Perez and left, whilst a line of skirmishers re- Quintanar, whose bodies were carried plied to the sharp fire which was open- to Vittoria, and there interred. Colonel ed from the hamlet so soon as the Zurbano, on learning the death of Christinos came within range. At Perez, paid the tribute of a soldier's about two hundred yards from the grief, short but sincere, to the memory nearest houses, the lane made a bend, of a daring officer and a faithful foland then leading onwards in a straight lower; and long after the incident we line, allowed Zurbano to see what was have narrated, he was known to remempassing on a sort of plaza, or open ber and regret the irreparable loss he space, in front of an old convent. A had sustained in Pablo Quintanar, who picket of horse and company of in- had rendered him invaluable services fantry were formed up, whilst two or as an unpaid spy, prompted only by three mounted officers, one of whom his attachment to the cause he had in appeared to be of rank, were superin- secret espoused, and for which he so tending a military execution. often suffered. His memory is still cherished amongst the hardy partisans of the late war.

Two

men, bareheaded, and with their arms tightly pinioned to their sides, were

* A ellor!-at them!-the usual charging cry of the Spaniards.

ENGLAND, FRANCE, GERMANY, AND RUSSIA.*

THERE is a result, which a better acquaintance with the history of exist. ing nations, and the continually growing experience of statesmen, are daily making more plain to the generality of mankind, and which is not without importance at the present moment, when Europe is only just free, if indeed she actually be so, from the danger of a general war:-it is this, that international alliances can never be firmly based, and never become lasting, un less, in addition to ties of mutual interest, they be cemented by mutual sympathies of national ideas, and mutual resemblances of national character. The diplomatic history of all modern times will inevitably lead the careful student to a conclusion of this nature, and the examination, not always a very interesting one, of the endless family compacts by which modern Europe has partially been brought into the form it now assumes, will show how futile at tempts have generally been to bolster up fictitious amities between people of opposite nations, and to make links for tribes of men, whom the differences of language, religion, morals, and political systems have rendered any thing but apt for association. Many a devastating war has been set on foot, and myriads of peaceable mortals have been plunged into the extremities of physical and moral evil, as much without their knowledge as against their will, merely with the object, on the part of their rulers, to force the formation of affinities which never would have taken place of themselves, or to set on foot combinations which succeeding generations have hastened to set aside. Alliances may no doubt be established by force, and maintained for longer or shorter periods by principles of national honour, or feelings of national interest; but they do not, in such cases, add much to the strength of the people between whom they exist: on the contrary, they are causes of uneasiness, of secret jealousy, and of public expense: nor is an alliance with a nation of widely different ideas and wishes, though apparently advan tageous, of half the real utility that one

with a related or fellow-thinking people commonly tends to produce, even amidst unequal or disadvantageous conditions.

The attempts to amalgamate the French and the Italians on the one hand, or the French and the Germans on the other; the endeavours, under our Plantagenets, to keep France and England under one and the same sceptre; or, at a later period, the experiment of an European monarchy, which Napoleon tried in vain to complete-with all the wars by which they were attended, will be fresh in in every one's recollection. These attempts, and others of a similar na、 ture, failed altogether, so many elements of impossibility did they involve in the conditions which such political problems always require to be satisfied: but there are numberless others which, from their failure not having been so glaringly evident, though they have been nearly as wide of success, have not been so obvious to succeeding generations: and it is only when the unexpected occurrence of some curious anomaly takes place, that the long dormant cause is searched for and found. Such instances are those of Austria and Italy, Turkey and her Albanian provinces, England and Ireland, the Dutch and the French Netherlands, &c.,-instances where deep-seated national antipathies, and an innate dissimilarity of races, taking its origin in the night of remotest tradition, have perpetuated, to the present day, heartburnings and political troubles, to the total extinction of which no proximate limits can with any probability be assigned. It is true that time, the great healer of all human woes, may produce such changes in national character as to render two totally distinct tribes not only nearly similar to each other, but even sympathetically allied: just as, on the other hand, it may split a great family into two or more portions, which become more dissimilar and more hostile the longer the separation lasts. Thus the national antipathy between the Saxon and the Gael has become nearly effaced in the north

* 1. DE LAMARTINE. La Question d'Orient, &c. 2. DE LAMENNAIS. Le Pays et le Gouvernement. VOL. XLIX. NO. CCCIII.

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ern portion of our island; that between the Saxon and the Cymri in the west; while the hatred between the Saxon and the Erse, though cooling down through secular periods, has been sufficiently fanned by bad government of past centuries on the part of the conquerors, and by bad conduct on the part of the conquered in the present, to keep smouldering on, even to the days in which we live. If ever there was an apparently unnatural separation between two portions of a great people, torn asunder by casual political circumstances, that of the schism between Great Britain and the United States was one of the most contrary to what might have been supposed possible and yet, partly from circumstances of place, partly from admixture of the North American settlers with people of all nations, the dissimilarity between these two branches of the English family is increasing every year; and, if ever the language of either should become much modified, they will probably constitute distinct types of the human race in future ages. France, by dint of unwearied efforts at centralization, and by the activity of her government, especially previous to the Great Revolution, has succeeded in amalgamating the various provinces conquered by Louis XIV. with those subjugated by his predecessors. Austria, too, retains under her sceptre the Teuton, the Hun, the Bohemian, and the Pole-and that, too, without much difficulty; whereas she is forced to hold his own stiletto at the Italian's throat, and to use force, and even intrigue, to effect what by legislative prudence and political honour she has succeeded in doing in her transalpine dominions. In the Spanish peninsula the Ibero-Goth has extirpated, or is amalgamated with the Moor, and keeps under an unwilling yoke the Basque; at the same time, however, the Gothic family has split into two tribes that, with kindred languages and similar ideas, hate each other with the antipathy that only a Portuguese or Spaniard can know, and, if nature admitted it, would rend the Lusitanian slip from the continent, and place the Atlantic at least between them.

Were a nation perfectly free to make its own alliances, there is no doubt but that it would be drawn towards those people with whom some previ ous ties of family similitude existed:but this is not often the case: when

ever it does so occur, however, it is an opportunity too precious to be lost, and, from its importance to the future welfare of a state, should never be-neglected. To apply this to the present circumstances of England with regard to Europe, we wish distinctly to advocate the formation of those alliances, and the encouragement of those political connexions which have moral sympathies and natural inclinations to back them, in preference to those which have for a longer or a shorter time been founded on reasons of political expediency, and present few more benefits to be hoped for in future days:

-we intend to recommend the friendship and alliance of the northern nations of this quarter of the world, in preference to those of the southern,those of the Teutonic and Sclavonic, rather than those of the Gallic and Gallo-Roman tribes. In so doing, we beg it may be distinctly understood, that the absence of a political leaning to close friendship, does not imply a desire for political hostility :-all that we desire to urge is this, that it is better for England and Englishmen to associate themselves with the northerns, until ameliorations of political institutions and national character shall render a closer union with the southerns more desirable than it is at the present moment. It is a dreadful extremity alone that can justify a recommendation to hostility; but common prudence will, at all times, constitute a sufficient apology for a preference in the forming of friendship.

Great Britain is essentially a member of the northern portion of Europe, not more by its geographical position than by the origin of its inhabitants, and by all the physical characteristics that constitute what is termed a nation. Her language, or rather her various tongues and dialects-the ethnical distinctions of her people-their spirit of maritime enterprise, and their coolness and sobriety of character, constitute numerous points of resemblance between them and their relations of the Teutonic family. The same sort of similitude, only different in degree, exists between the English nation and the inhabitants of ancient Scandinavia; it is probably more close, in many points, than that with regard to the Germans, especially in a sturdy spirit of freedom, in maritime skill, and in what may be termed home-feelings, And again, there is also a like

ness, though a more remote one, be. tween the English and the western tribes of the Sclavonic race. Whatever may be the kind and degree of affinity naturally existing between Great Britain, Germany, Scandinavia, and Russia, the ties that unite them have been drawn much more closely by the political events of the last half century, and these nations have had to form a powerful and a holy union on a memorable occasion. On the other hand, the southern nations of Europe, allowance being made for the admixture of Gaelic and Celtic elements in their composition, are now, whatever they may have been in former ages, of a very distinct moral if not physical type, and, taken as a class of mankind, present much fewer points of affinity with the English. The origin and structure of their language their comparative want of independent feelings-their deficiency in maritime and commercial enterprise-and the impetuous rashness by which they are more or less markedall these points, from whatever causes they may have arisen, draw a strong line of distinction between the two families. Without dwelling on the advantages or disadvantages of the two sets of characteristics, and without at present indicating the good or bad qualities that co-exist in any of these nations, there can be no doubt of the fact as to Europe being mainly divided into great classes-the northern and southern; and we maintain that the natural position of England is in the former rather than the latter division.

During the middle ages-during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and especially during the eighteenth, the wars that England waged on the continent of Europe were mainly against the southerns; while the alliances she made, the good effects of which still endure, were with the northerns. This circumstance, caused in no small degree by affinity of races, has linked the national existence of England much more closely with that of her German and Scandinavian friends than with that of her Gallic and other neighbours; it was from this cause that the epithet of a natural enemy came to be bandied about from one side of the British Channel to the other, and that anti-Gallic feelings existed with considerable intensity in England, till towards the end of the

last century. At that period the French Revolution found too many advocates and admirers among the misguided portion of the British public, and a sort of esteem for the French nation was springing up, when the true character of that people became developed amid the horrors of the Reign of Terror, and their unjustifiable aggressions successfully aided the honourable and right-thinking majority of Britons in coercing the evildisposed at home, in checking the infection of Gallomania, and in making that glorious stand for the liberties and moral good of Europe, which is one of the brightest spots not only in the national history of our country, but even in that of modern times. The national feelings throughout the last war were strongly and decidedly turned against France, and were as much excited in favour of Germany, of Sweden, of Holland, and of the southern victims of French ambition; the peculiarities of the northern people were fully developed; and on the Holy Alliance being formed, the God of victory gave it that rapid success for which the justice of its cause and the noble use made of its powers so well entitled it to hope. At the end of the great war, few advocates of an alliance with France could be found in Eng. land, whereas Germans, and subjects of the great power on the north-east of Europe, were received with open arms whenever they came. Since that period, proximity of situation between France and England, the existence of mutual commercial interests, and the frequency of personal intercourse, have greatly removed asperities of national feeling on the part of the English; and political occurrences since 1830 have given a still stronger impulse to a certain portion of our fellow-countrymen to make up to their French neighbours. It is true, that this softened feeling on the part of England has not been met with corresponding cordiality on the other side of the Channel; and that national antipathy, and even national hatred, exist there as strongly as ever: the stretching out of the hand of friendship has been entirely on the side of ourselves: the hand has been shaken, if at all, only in a cold, heartless manner, by those to whom it was proffered; and they now would be anxious to reply with blows, if they had the means and the spirit to strike. The advantage of the intercourse has

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