on his dressing-gown of printed calico,* and repairs to the outer peristyle, where he walks up and down, and receives, at the same time, those persons who are admitted to an audience. Towards seven he enters his closet, where he remains until nine, when the officers and other functionaries come to make their reports, and receive his orders. At eleven o'clock the fiel de fecho (principal secretary), brings the papers which are to be submitted to his inspection, and writes from his dictation until noon, when all the officers retire, and Doctor Francia sits down to table. His dinner, which is extremely frugal, he always orders himself. When the cook returns from market, she deposits her provisions at the door of her master's closet. The Doctor then comes out, and selects what he wishes for his own use. After dinner he takes his siesta. On awaking he drinks his mate, and smokes a cigar, after taking the same precaution as that observed in the morning. From this, until four or five, he is occupied with business, when the escort to attend him on his promenade arrives. The barber then enters and dresses his hair, while his horse is saddling. During his ride, the Doctor inspects the public works and the barracks, particularly those of the cavalry, where a habitation is preparing for him. While riding, though surrounded by his escort, he is armed with a sabre, and a pair of double-barrelled pocket pistols. He returns home about nightfall, and sits down to study until nine, when he goes to supper, which consists of a roast pigeon and a glass of wine. If the weather be fine, he again walks under the peristyle, where he often remains till a very late hour. At ten o'clock he gives the watchword. On returning into the house he fastens all the doors himself.

"For several months in the year he resides at the cavalry barrack, which is outside of the city, about a quarter of a league from his usual residence ; but then his manner of living is the same, except that he sometimes takes the pleasures of the chase. In the apartment that he occupies, there are always arms within his reach; pistols are hung upon the walls, or placed upon the table near him; and sabres, the greater number unsheathed, are to be found in every corner. This fear of assassination is also shown in the etiquette prescribed at his audiences. The person admitted must not approach nearer to the Dictator than six paces, until he makes him a sign to advance; and even then he must always stop at a distance of three paces. His arms must be held close to his body, and his hands open hanging down, so that it be evident that he has no concealed weapons. The officers even are not permitted to enter his presence with their swords by their sides. Nevertheless, he is pleased that the person addressing him, should look him straight in the face, and return him prompt and positive answers. Speaking on this subject one day, as I was about opening the body of one of the natives, he told me to see if his countrymen had not one bone more than the usual number in their neck, which prevented them from holding up their heads and speaking out.

At the commencement of a conversation he strives to intimidate; but if his first attack be met with firmness, he softens down, and finishes by conversing very agreeably; that is, when he is in good humour. It is in such moments that you perceive him to be a man of great talent; he turns the conversation upon the most varied subjects, evinces considerable powers of mind, great penetration, and very extensive acquirements, for one who, it may be said, has never quitted Paraguay. Divested, himself, of the numberless prejudices with which his countrymen are imbued, he often makes

"In imitation of the Dictator, the commandants and alcaldis, and in general all the government officers, wear similar dressing-gowns, which they seem to consider their official costumes; as they never lay them aside, not even when they ride out."

"At our first audience, as I was not acquainted with this etiquette, it happened that my hands were not in the position required by the Dictator, when he gruffly asked me if I was endeavouring to draw a poignard from my pocket. On my replying that such was not the custom among the Swiss, he became appeased, and continued the conversation."

them the subject of his wit, or sarcasm. During a conversation I once held with him, he turned into great ridicule the commandant and priest of Curuguaty, who had sent him a poor woman in chains, and decorated with an immense rosary, whom they accused of being a sorceress. He then went into an account of the charms and spells chiefly used in Paraguay, pointing out the particular virtues ascribed to some of them, in effecting cures. He concluded thus: You see what priests and religion are good for, they make us believe more in the devil than in God.'

"If the conscience of man be a sanctuary, which even history itself should respect, the same indulgence ought not to be extended towards those open acts which betray the infidel principles of the chief of a government, particularly when he exercises so absolute a power as Doctor Francia. I therefore think myself warranted in stating, that for some time after this elevation, he had mass celebrated every Sunday in the chapel of one of his barracks, at which he was present; he also attended during holidays at the ceremonies in the cathedral, but he soon after gave up this practice, and in 1820 dismissed his almoner. Since that time he has taken no part in public worship, but has seized every occasion to show his dislike to the established religion. To a commandant, who asked him for the image of a saint, that he might place a newly constructed fortress under its protection, he answered: O people of Paraguay, how long will you remain idiots? When I was still a Catholic, I believed as you do, but now I know that bullets are the best saints you can have on the frontiers.' In the first audience we had of him, after having asked us of what religion we were, he said, 'Profess the religion that pleases you best; be Christians, Jews, or Mussulmans,—any thing but Atheists.'

"When the Dictator is attacked by an excess of hypochondria, he either shuts himself up for several days, and leaves off public business altogether, or vents his ill humour on those around him. Civil functionaries, officers, soldiers all are equally ill treated by him. It is during these paroxysms particularly, that he is most prone to order arrests, and to inflict the severest punishments. At such periods, he thinks nothing of issuing a sentence of death.

"The weather appears to exercise a great influence over his disposition: at least, it is remasked, that when the north-east wind blows, which always brings on sudden and frequent rains, the Dictator is more frequently, and more violently affected by his hypochondriacal fits; but his good humour is restored when the wind changes to the south-west. Then he sings, laughs to himself, and chats very readily with all persons who approach him.

"However unequal his humour may be in other things, there is one laudable quality to which he is constant; I allude to his disinterestedness. He is as generous in his personal expences as he is economical in the state disbursements, and pays ready money for every thing that he purchases for his own use. His private fortune has not been increased by his elevation; he has never accepted a present, and his salary is always in arrear his greatest enemies do him justice upon these points. On several occasions he has proved that gratitude was not a stranger to his breast. Having been informed that the son of a person in Cordova, who had received him kindly in his youth, was in Assumption, in a state of great distress, he had him sent for, gave him some hundred franks, and appointed him his secretary. He will sometimes also recognise an old school-fellow, and afford him assistance if he be in want of it.

"But he instantly forgets all benefits and services-all claims of relationship or acquaintance, in any one who fails in paying due respect to his authority and person. Not to give him the title of Most Excellent Signor," crime never to be forgiven; although he himself thee's and thou's every one

*

is a

"He received no letter which was not thus superscribed: Al excellentissmo Senor, Don Gaspar Rodriguez de Francia, Supremo Dictator Perpetuo de la Republica del Paraguay,"

with the exception of a few foreigners. This custom he gradually assumed, as his power became more secure. 'You should look upon me with equal respect as upon your own sovereign, and even more,' said he, one day to a foreigner; for I have it more in my power to benefit or injure you than he has.' Several of his favourites fell into disgrace, for having attempted to put themselves on too familiar footing with him; others were loaded with irons for having assumed a power which he had not conferred upon them. Two of his nephews, officers in the regular troops at the commencement of the revolution, were the first whom he dismissed the service, after he had become Dictator, for no other reason than the fear he had that they might presume upon their relationship. For this reason, while in the service, the slightest fault was punished more severely in them than in others; one of thein was confined in irons four years for having, at a ball, struck a man who had insulted him; and the other passed a year in the public prison for having employed one of the military band in a serenade which he gave his mistress. In fine, he sent away his sister, the only being for whom he appeared to have any lasting attachment, and who took care of his countryhouse, because she ordered a zelador to chastise a slave.

"Jealous to excess of his authority, the Dictator admits of no confidant ; he has never been known to take counsel of any one, nor can any one boast of ever having exercised the slightest influence over him. If, sooner or later, he yields to the lot which appears to be reserved for all oppressors of their country, he will have only himself to blame."-pp. 198—207.

The population of Paraguay is exceedingly small. Dr. Rengger calculates it at about two hundred thousand; so that the tyranny of Dr. Francia, though it has a wide sway, prevails over but a few subjects. In a more closely inhabited country his system could not endure a single day.

Dr. Rengger's book is to be followed by another devoted to the natural history of Paraguay: we expect it with impatience, and anticipate from its perusal much pleasure and instruction. The Reign of Dr. Francia is a simple and interesting narrative; the author is an honest and intelligent man; and though he probably knows more about the natural than the political world, the facts he details give value and importance to his book.

THE CHARACTER OF LORD CLARENDON.

Historical Inquiries respecting the Character of Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, Lord Chancellor of England. By the Hon. George Agar Ellis. Murray. 1827. THE subject of this inquiry is as interesting as any that can be found among the personal questions connected with history and literature. The Earl of Clarendon is the man, who, of all others in England, has combined in the highest degree, influence as a practical statesman with fame as an author; and both his acts and his works are connected with the most important of all crises in English history, when the genius of the English people for good and for evil, was more completely developed than at any other time; and when the English constitution, after a struggle between its elements, took that form which it yet retains, almost unchanged, and which it seems destined long to retain. It was he, who in the name of Charles I. spoke to the world in behalf of one of the great parties engaged in that remarkable struggle. The declarations of the royal party are his declarations; they contain his arguments and his doctrines; he impressed in

this authoritative manner his opinions on a part of the nation, while the royal cause was militant and suffering; and when finally royalty was restored, he wielded for many years the whole power of the crown, and exercised an almost unbounded influence even over the legislative authority.

Mr. Ellis's intentions in the inquiry seem to be of the purest and most amiable kind. Though his disposition is to detract from the high opinion which he considers to be the generally received one concerning Clarendon's merits, that disposition is excited by nothing except a generous indignation at cruelty and injustice. His political opinions seem to be sound; and combined with a feeling of religion, he has a love of toleration creditable to his head and his heart. But we must not disguise our opinion, that his work is flimsy and most unsatisfactory it would have been better for his reputation either to have inquired more diligently, or not inquired at all.

The following is a summary, in his own words, of the conclusions to which Mr. Ellis endeavours to bring his reader:

"That the strongest suspicions attach to the character of Lord Clarendon, upon the score of rapacious and corrupt practices; and that it is evident, that such was the general opinion of his contemporaries.

"That his measures against the sectaries were of a most cruel and tyrannical nature.

"That various circumstances of different kinds, favour very strongly the belief of his having been an unconstitutional, and, in some respects, an unprincipled politician, whose religion was also, probably, more of a political kind than any thing else.

"And lastly, that this character has been unjustly favoured by historians from various motives for party purposes; from pity for his subsequent misfortunes; from admiration of his talents, and especially of his historical work; and from a just dislike and contempt of his successors."-p. 180.

It is on the subject of the first of these points, that Mr. Ellis's book contains most novelty, and to his manner of treating it our remarks must principally apply.

It may seem almost an insult to Mr. Ellis, to suggest a doubt whether he has read Lord Clarendon's Life by Himself; and his "Continuation of his Life, and of the History of the Rebellion," which was especially intended as a defence of his conduct, and as an answer, for the satisfaction of his children, to most of the very charges which appear in Mr. Ellis's book; yet it is inconceivable why, if Mr. Ellis has read it, he takes no other notice of it than may have been derived from some quotation in a biographical dictionary. Surely, in a work of this kind, in which the political actions of a man are called in question, though the charges against him should be first given, his own answers should be added, and their validity examined, unless historical inquiries are to be considered like the strings of queries which are put by some rhetoricians, to which it is never intended that any answers shall be given.

It can hardly be said, in defence of Mr. Ellis, that he has taken for granted that all his readers are fully acquainted with this work of Lord Clarendon's, for it is notoriously much less read even than his History; and Mr. Ellis is copious in his quotations from Hume and Rapin. He thinks it necessary also to give a sketch of Lord Clarendon's Life, quite superfluous to those who have read his own; and only

remarkable for an error, trifling indeed, but which, with the latter before him, he could scarcely have fallen into.*

It was the more incumbent on Mr. Ellis to have given his readers an account of Clarendon's answers to the charges against him, because the greater part of the charges of corruption against him are founded on the gossip of the time when he was in the height of power, and which preceded the period when the articles of impeachment were drawn up against him. As it is notorious that he was not only charged with corruption by his contemporaries, but impeached of it in Parliament, no progress is made by showing, that, at a period antecedent to that impeachment, he was, by his enemies, accused of the same crime; but something would be gained, if it could be shown that his full and apparently conclusive answers to those charges were false or unsatisfactory.

The first evidence which Mr. Ellis brings, is from Pepys's Diary, to prove the disposition in the chancellor (Clarendon) to rapacious and corrupt practices;" and it is intended to convey, not the opinion of Pepys, but of Evelyn; whom, as a friend of the chancellor, as well as a man of the same politics, Mr. Ellis considers an unexceptionable authority. "By the way," says Pepys, "he (Evelyn) tells me, that of all the great men of England, there is none that endeavours more to raise those that he takes into favour, than my Lord Arlington; and that on that score, he is much more to be made one's patron than my lord chancellor, who never did, nor will do any thing but for money."— Diary, vol. ii.

We shall not stop to inquire, whether or no, (which may be reasonably questioned, considering that Pepys's Diary is an out-pouring of his own mind, as well as a record of his conversations,) the assertion concerning Clarendon be the sentiment of Evelyn-we incline to think it Pepys's own. But to whomsoever it belongs, it is far from supporting the charge of corruption, when we consider the whole purport of the sentence. The object of Pepys's investigation, at the time he was seeking the means of raising himself in the world, was to find a man on whom a toad-eater might fasten himself with the best hopes of profit-and he learns from Evelyn, that Arlington is a good subject for his purpose; because, though a man, by the testimony of all history, notoriously corrupt, he endeavoured to raise those he took into favour; studying, by the fidelity of his adherents, to make up for his small consideration in the state, on the score of birth, probity, or talents. What is meant by Clarendon not doing any thing, except for money, as is obvious from the context, is not that he was corrupt, either as a judge or a minister, but that he sold the offices within his gift, which, according to the custom of the

Mr. Ellis says, "In 1622, he (Clarendon) was sent to Oxford, and entered of Magdalen Hall. In 1625 he became B.A. After which, failing of a fellowship of Exeter College, he entered of the Middle Temple, and commenced the study of the law." The fellowship (or scholarship rather) Clarendon failed of, was in reality of Magdalen College, where he hoped to have been chosen a demy, but no vacaney occurred, and he relates the circumstance in his life with some particularity; but the occasion of his commencing the study of the law, (for he had previously been destined for the church,) was not so much his not obtaining a fellowship, which he need not have despaired of he being then seventeen years of age-but his having become, by the death of his brother, heir-apparent to his father.