PORTUGAL, GALLIC 1 A, AND THE BASQUE PROVINCES.

THE advertisements tell us that the author of these volumes is a nobleman ; he himself informs us that he is a member of the Somersetshire Yeomanry, in whose uniform he figured at a Por- tuguese review ; there is internal evidence that be is a man accustomed to society, and a gentleman in the social meaning of' the term, if not in any loftier sense. It appears that he is, or was, a great lover of rambling and excitement, even to the ex- tent of seeking the latter in the turmoil of revolutionary coun- tries. He is a Tory both by his own testimony and confession, with the absolute blindness to his opponents' part of a question, the magnifying power with which he views his own, and the measured language but inward fanaticism, that distinguish your genuine high-bred Tory from every other species of the genus homo.

Such was the traveller, who rather more than nine years ago (in July 1827) started from Falmouth in a steamer for Lisbon ; preceding the worthy Don MIGUEL in his visit to Portugal by -about seven months. After a pleasant voyage, he reached his destination ; mixed with the first society of the capital, which was then enlivened by the presence of the elite of the British army ; -visited the Portuguese paradise, Cintra; the Convent and Palace of Marra, the Escurial's rival ; and the Convents of Alcobaca and Butallia, commemorated by BECKFOR D. Thence he rambled on- ward to Oporto ; and explored the Traz os Montes, remarkable for the grandeur of its scenery, the feudal state of its social condi- tion, and more than all for its wines. lie then traversed the Minh°, the most Northern and perhaps the most beautiful province of Portugal ; and entered Gallieia, travelling as be had travelled in Portugal, on horseback ; deviating from the road to visit any re- markable objects of art or nature; investigating the fortresses and public buildings, with a more critical eye than seemed to the igno- rant Spaniards consistent with the purposes of a common traveller, if a common traveller could think of visiting Gallicia; and capped the whole by wishing to go to Orense, a place where nobody went, least of all in winter-time. In c insequenee of these proceedings, coupled with the disturbed state of the country, and his resem- blance to an exiled Liberal, our nobleman was arrested at Lugo ; marched to Segovia under a guard as a conspirator against the state ; and only released, after several examinations and a long de- tention, on the British Consul at Corunna vouching for his being English; when he was sent across the frontier e ith all possible directness and despatch, and returned to Lisbon.

He reached that capital just in time to see Don Mienee ar- rive; of whose appearance on swearing to the Charter he gives a good account, as well as a characteristic description of the dubious and troubled state of society in Lisbon. After seeing the English army depart and many of the Constitutionalists escape, our tra- veller crossed the Tagus, and threaded a good part of the South- ern and virtually unknown provinces of Portugal, amid scenery unrivalled for alternations or mixture of softness, wildness, and sublimity; and amongst a people hospitable, ignorant, so perstitious, savage, and excitable, with the animal triumphing over the men- tal—" the blood and baseness of our nature" subduing the rea- sonable man, to a degree scarcely credible, if the pictures of our author did not carry upon their 4":ce the stamp of truth. Having visited Sagres, the residence . Prince HENRY, the sti- mulator and patron of early Portuguese discovery ; examined the promontory of St. Vincent's, memorable for the gloomy gran- deur of its nature, and its historical associations; and crossed the kingdom till he touched again up.' the Spanish frontier,—the headstrong Englishman, contrary to advice, persisted in returning through Evora, which city, on his arrival, was in a state of high commotion ; the ignorant and priest-led people having risen en masse, denounced the Charter, declared for Don MIGUEL, and instituted themselves masters over the authorities. As an Eng- lishman, he was stopped by the mob; unwillingly detained by the officials; kept, first in a guard-room, exposed to the gaze and comments of the Miguelites, ani then confined in a prison con- stantly threatened with an attack in order to the massacre of its inmates. At last, an order from Lisbon, to which reference had been made, procured his release; and, reaching the capital without more adventures, our author bade adieu to Portugal; and his "long wanderings, the fatigues of his solitary expeditions, and the perils of revolution, were all forgotten, as he trod once more upon the soil of native, peaceful, and then unreformed England." Except for the light thrown upon the character of the people of the Peninsula, and the pictures given of their social state in the narratives of the author, and the frequent disquisitions by which he suspends them, the work will not support the expecta- tions formed from its titlepage; for it has no relation to passing events., It is, however, an agreeable and characteristic book of travels; full of pictures of scenery and society, sketches of man- ners and touches of character, intermingled with a good deal of not uninteresting personal adventure, and graphic views of wild people in stirring times. And although the author cannot pee– tend to the higher literary qualifications, he has considerable merit, and that of a fresh and native kind. He writes like a welt. educated and travel-sharpened gentleman ; conveying the gene- ral impressions which things have made upon his mind, but not searching after the more occult qualities of objects, and of course not attempting to bring them out. What he sees be sees ; any thing deeper than the surface, is not "dreamt of in his phi- losophy."

Passing by the descriptions of mere scenery, which, however good, have not any novelty of subject, we will chiefly draw upon the volumes for traits of national character and manners, and such scenes as may in a measure be now considered as appertaining to historical memoirs, if not to history.

The following story conveys a lively idea of Portuguese polite- ness, and indicates the value set upon time in Portugal. In the early periods of nations, when their scanty numbers and social con- dition leave many an unoccupied hour, ceremonies seem contrived pour passer le temps, and form an important part of the business of life. As population increases and civilization advances, "finished politeness" fades away; partly because every thing is more or less subjected to the test of reason, partly because time becomes too valuable to be wasted upon forms.

PORTUCEESE CEREMONIALS.

I remember a striking instance or the great extent to which mere ceremonial is carried by Portuguese of the old school ; and it may not be amiss to 'elate it while I am touching on the subject. I called one morning on a high dignitary of the church, and, ascending a magnificent staircase, passed through a long suite of rooms to the apartment in which the reverend ecclesiastic was seated. Having concluded my visit, I bowed and departed; but turned, according to the invariable custom of the country, when I reached the door, and made another salutation ; my host was slowly following nue, and returned my inclination by one equally profound ; when I arrived at the door of the second apartment, he was standing on the threshold of the first, anti the same ceremony again passed between us; when I had gained the third apartment he was occupying the place I had just left on the second ; the saute civilities were then renewed, and these polite reciprocations were continued till I had traversed the whole suite of apartments. Al the banisters, I made a low, and, as I supposed, a final saluta- tion; but no, when I had reached the first landing place he was at the lop of the stairs ; when I stood on the second landing-place he hall descended to the first ; and upon each and all of these occasions our heads wagged with increas- ing humility. Our journey to the foot of the stairs was at length completed. I had now to pass through a long hall, divided by columns, to the front door, at which my carriage was standing. Whenever I reached one of these pillars, I turned, and found his Eminence waiting for the expected bow ; which he imme- diately returned, continually progressing, and managing his paces so as to go through his share of the ceremony on the precise spot which had witnessed my last inclination. As I approached the ball-door, our mutual salutations were no longer occasional but absolutely perpetual ; and ever and anon they still con- tinued, after I had entered my carriage, as the Bishop stood with uncovered head ti 1 it was driven away.

STRANGE INCONGRUITIES.

Late in the evening, we entered Over, a long, straggling town, in which I naturally concluded that some house of ace lllll modation must exist ; but literally there was none. The Peninsula generally, although it may be said more of Spain than Portugal, abounds in these strange inconsistencies. I once stopped at a yenta in Andalusia, which not only possessed the necessaries, hut many of the comforts of life. Meat and fowls, with tea, coffee, and chocolate, formed a sumptuous bill of fire for a Spanish count' y inn ; forks abounded, but when I called for a knife, I was told that no such implement was kept in the house, on a principle of self-preservation. The reason given was eminently Spanish ; but in fact the road was chiefly frequented by smugglers, who live well, but always carry their own knives; and this was the real cause of the deficiency. The same curious contradictions are occasionally found in the higher ranks. I remember sleeping at the house of a decayed noble, who received ate with the utmost hospitality. My sleeping apartment was, however, destitute of the most common conveniences of life ; may bed had no curtains, there was net a looking-glass, there was not a chair in the room. Such lying the case, I was surprised and somewhat amused at seeing a menial, attired in a faded livery of green and gold, enter my apartment with much state, bearing a basin of massive silver, which lie was himself compelled to hold, because there was no table on which he could place that ponderous relic of the departed splendour of the house.

DON MIGUEL AND TIIE CHARTER.

I repaired on the 26th of February to the great saloon of the Ajada. The Peers, attired like Roman senators, occupied the front benches on the right hind; immediately above sat the Peeresses, among whom the Countess of Villa Flor and the Countess of Alva were undoubtedly the most distinguished by their personal attractions; the Deputies were ranged along the benches on the left hand, and the space above was reserved for strangers. At one o'clock, Don Miguel entered the saloon, accompanied by his sisters. The Infanta Regent seated herself on the throne: the Prince at first stood by her side under the royal canopy ; but, taking him familiarly by o...e arm, she forced him to occupy part of her seat during the delivery of the speech. She expressed her sincere desire for the welfare of the Charter, and assured her hearers of the upright in- tentions which had uniformly actuated her conduct in the administration of the Government, and of the pleasure with which she now resigned it into her brother's hands. She was frequently interrupted by shouts proceeding from the court below, and her voice was at one time so completely lost in the clamour that she was obliged to pause; upon which occasion, Don 11Iigoael's flashing eyes gave indications of that impatient temper which has characterized him from his earliest years. Having concluded her speech, she arose, and re- tiring from the throne, which she appeared to resign with the utmost cheer- fulness and good -humour, she placed herself by her sister, an interesting young person, seated on the right-hand bench immediately above the Peeresses. The written oath of adherence to the Charter was then presented to the Infant ; who regarded it with apparent confusion, and seemed unable or unwilling to read it; at the same time, the Duke de Cadoval drew near with a missal to administer the oath ; but his Excellency's wide-spreading mantle so effectually concealed the Infant from the general observation, that it was impossible to see him kiss the Sacred Book, or hear him pronounce the solemn words. I was not far from the royal party, but cannot give any dacided opinion upon that much-debated point, whether Don Miguel really went through or evaded the forms prescribed. Many of his adherents declared then, and still assert, that he neither repeated the words nor kissed the book ; and the Infant himself is said to have assured his favourite nurse, on the same day, that in subverting the Charter he should incur no moral guilt, as he had not bound himself by any oath to maintain it.

The ceremony being now completed, he walked towards the great folding

doors at thcextremity of the hall, between the Peers and Deputies ranged on both sides; hut suddenly paused midway, and recollecting that he had left his sister, the Infanta Regent, he returned, and led her down the saloon. During the whole proceeding, Don Miguel's countenance was overcast, and he had the constrained manner of a most unwilling actor in an embarrassing part. I read the approaching fate of the Constitution in the sullen expression of his counte- nance, in the imperfect manner in nhich the oath was administered, and in the strange and general appearance of hurry and concealment. This opinion was so much increased by his hasty departure from the saloon, without uttering a single word confirmatory of his new obligation, that, under the strong impres- sion of the moment, I observed to an officer standing near ine, " This is surely ominous?" He replied, " Poor boy, he is only shy." I began to doubt the justice of my suspicions ; but in the evening they returned with all their original force. Yet, in spite of symptoms so discouraging to their cause, the Imperialists began again to indulge in sanguine anticipations, and the city was brilliantly illuminated that night hut the appointment of a Coreunda, or Ultra Royalist Ministry, on the following morning, destroyed their hopes, and placed the real intentions of the Infant in the clearest light.

A DINNER- PARTY IN DOUBTFUL TIMES.

Three (lays afterwards I (lined with the Marquis of Fronteira, at his noble mansion near Bendica. The dining-room is truly magnificent, the carving rich, the height imposing : it is built in the old style, and graced with a fine heroic bas-relief of the fist chivalrous Marquis of Profiteira. Our party consisted of the British Commander of the Forces Sir William Clinton, and his military secretary, Colonel Hare, the Count and Countess of Villa Flor, the Count uf Alva, and his young daughter. in-law, the beautiful and unaffected Countess of Alva. the Count of Taipa, the Count of Puente, Don Carlos, and our noble host and hostess. I allude particularly to this party, because it was chiefly composed of men who played a prominent part during that eventful crisis ' • be- cause it was the last act of hospitality I received from my Portuguese friends at Lisbon ; and still more because it was the last time they met in their native land around the festive board ; for before three days had elapsed, they were exiled, and at sea. This was a trial hour indeed : their long.descended rank was henceforth to be denied, their privileges annulled, their possessions confiscated ; even those ancient halls in which we were then Bitting for the last time, those halls inherited from a long line of ancestors, were passing away from the rule of their lineal lord.

During dinner, no allusion was made to public events; but afterwards the party divided into separate groups : the conversation was now carried on by the i

men n a low hut calm voice, and the darkening prospects of the country, which engrossed their thoughts, became the only subject of discussion. They knew the extent of the crisis, they felt the magnitude of the danger : they had main- tained Don Pedro's cause with unshaken fidelity, and were in consequence ex- poses! to the resentment of the actual Government ; that Government was ad- vancing by rapid strides to the establishment of absolute power, and had already dismissed from the army many officers of moderate opinions, and had supplied their places by persons devoted to the Court. They knew that the vengeance of Don Miguel would be directed against themselves, when the changes then in progress should be completely effected, and the Court be enabled to strike the blow securely. They were still unmolested, it is true; but theirs was a hollow peace, a treacherous quiet ; they slept upon gunpowder, and were well aware that the match would be applied at the fitting moment. Wishing to divert the minds of her guests from the heavy sense of impending calamity, the Marchioness of Fronteirs placed herself at the piano, and played a lively air : but, though her taste and execution were equally admired, it seemed as if the very music was infected by the melancholy of the time ; and like

"The practised minstrel's fabled strain,

That, disobedient at the call.

Wuird loud through Bothwell's banneed hall, Ere Douglases, to ruin driven.

Were exiled from their native heaven,"

even so her notes, as if prophetic of approacing wo, fell heavily upon a silent room and a lifeless audience.

The author seems rather to lean to the opinion that there are still hopes for MIGUEL. The wish is probably father to the thought; but if the feelings of the people generally are similar to those displayed at Setuval and Evora, the Don may have yet a chance, or rather a better man might, assisted by the evident mismanagement of the Queen and Constitutionalists.

As a picture of events on a turn of the political wheel in Por- tugal, the narrative of the adventure at Evora is capital, but too long for us. Instead of it, we will take the sketch of

A MIGUELITE MOB AT SETUTAL.

Engrossed in conversation, we unconsciously approached the chapel at the extremity of the green, before which an enormous concourse of people were assembled. Night had long set in ; but we saw by the glare of the lamps the crowd collected most densely around a regimental hand, which was playing with amazing spirit the Ultra-Royalist hymn • but even this favourite tune was often drowned by the deafening shouts of " Miguel the First, the Absolute, the most Absolute King ! and death to the Malleardos, death to the infamous Consti- tutionalists !' It was evident that the designs of the Miguelists in promoting this meeting had been crowned with success. The popular enthusiasm was at its height, and characterized by such extreme ferocity that I could not behold it without awe, or hear the deadly imprecations heaped upon the Constitution- alists without feeling that a terrible hour of vengeance was at hand. I have mingled much in revolutionary scenes, but never before or since, not even at Evora during the heat of civil conflict, have I seen the human face distorted by such a variety of horrible passions; passions cradled in fanaticism, nursed in silence and in gloom, but now roused to madness, and ready to break down every barrier opposed to their gratification. Every passing occurrence ministered to their hate, and furnished matter for hateful illustration : if a rocket went up ill, the people called it a Constitutionaliet,—a declaration received with yells ex- pressive of the utmost detestation and contempt ; if. it rose well, they cried out that even thus should their knives be sent into the hearts of the accursed Free- masons; and then they expressed fervent wishes that their traitorous heads were burning in the wheel of the rocket. In short, among that assembled multitude, all seemed alike transported by one common love for the Infant, by one COIDITIOD hatred to his opponents, and by one pervading sentiment of un- limited and almost frenzied devotion to the Church. 'They were inflamed by music and the spirit, stirring hymn ; by wine, which gave an appalling charac• ter of desperation to their gestures; and by religious zealots, who Whispered, in each pause of the storm, that every blow they struck was struck for God. It is difficult to describe the effect produced at intervals by the sudden glare of the fireworks dispersing the gloom, and lighting up, though but for an instant, their stern and excited countenances. Those momentary gleams showed each man his neighbour's passion, and strengthened his own from a sense of the general sympathy; so that every moment their expressions of vengeance be- came fiercer, and their shouts more vehement and unintermitted.

At length they raised the cry of "Death to the English !" 3fy host had long before urged me to quit the scene ; but the deep Interest with which I viewed these tumultuary proceedings, fixed me spell-bound to the spot. Had my British origin been discovered, my situation might have been very unplea- sant ; but the same dark face which in Spain convinced the authorities that I was a native outlaw, effectually shielded me at Setuval from the suspicion of being an Englishman : still, my foreign accent might have betrayed me, had I been conipelled to speak ; and .1 felt on many grounds the necessity of retiring, for the people were ripe for violence, and their leaders, seeing that the time for action had arrived, bade the music cease. The crowd that had long been pent up, chafing like a mighty stream within a narrow channel, now overflowed on all sides, bearing down on Setuval to carry their revolutionary intentions into effect. In trying to disengage myself from the turmoil, I observed that I was often recognized as a stranger, though not as an Englishman. Many fierce in- quiring glances were bent upon me; many persons seemed inclined to stop me, and were only prevented by the hurried movements of the multitude, which, pressed on, rank after rank, like the waves of the sea. Once, indeed, a savage- looking fellow, rendered still more fierce by intoxication, seized me by the coat, and, declaring that I was a Freemason, desired me to shout for the Absolute King. My actual position was not agreeable ; fur my host had warned me, that although I might pass through the crowd unmolested, still, if a mere urchin raised the cry of Freemason against me, the people, in their irritated state, might fall upon me, as a pack obeys a single hound ; no well-known Constitu- tionalist would that night, he assured tne, bust himself on that plot of ground for all the treasures of the British Exchequer. But the danger, if real, was but inonientary ; for, disordered by wine and forced onwards by the irresistible pressure of the crowd, my assailant lost his hold before Iliad time to reply. .Extricating myself from the crowd, I took refuge in a knoll of trees behind tile. chapel, where I saw groups of men careering around with shouts and gesticula- tions absolutely demoniac, and rather resembling enraged wild beasts than rational beings; and still, as I made the best of my way to the inn by a cir- cuitous path, I heard the loud beat of the drum and the infuriated cries of the people, as they tushed to attack the dwellings of the Constitutionalists; who were, however, generally speaking, prepared for the tempest, attd had fled front their houses some hours before the rising of the gale.

Appended to the tour, and forming about a third of the entire volumes, is what is called in the titlepage a "Review of the Social and Political State of the Basque Provinces." It in reality con- tains an historical sketch of the junction of these provinces with the kingdom of Spain; an antiquarian exposition of the freedom and self-government secured to them by charters on their volun- tary reception of the Spanish kings for their lords ; a review of the mistaken policy by which the Queen's Government determined on abrogating the fueros (customs and privileges) of the Biscayans and Navarrese, and of the rash and rapid manner in which they carried it into execution. Blended with these topics,—which have an inteiest in themselves, and are clearly treated,--there are va- rious speculations on the probable success of the rival belligerents, or, to speak more correctly, a covert prophecy of the failure of the Christinos ; and a long attack upon the foreign policy of the Bri- tish Government, as well as a tirade against the murders and mas- sacres of the Queen's party,—as if those of the Don's were not quite as atrocious. Added to these, is a Tory sketch of the Con- stitution of 1820, and a variety of notes, either explaining the texts or serving to introduce fragments from the author's former travels. Any detailed account of these fragments is of course unnecessary ; but two impressions, that have been considerably strengthened by, if not altogether formed from the volumes, may be worth stating. First, that the peasantry of the Peninsula, in- cluding Portugal as well as Spain, are too backward to be fitted for liberty, whilst the best of the Constitutionalists seem incapable of achieving it. Second, that whatever may be the immediate up- shot, we have as yet only seen "the beginning of an end." And the conclusion which most unbiassed persons will draw upon the subject probably is, that the quarrels of Spaniards and Portuguese are no affair of ours. Should any other nation think differently, in Heaven's name, let them take a part in the drama, and they may reckon their gains when the play is over.