Many characteristic reminiscences of the man and his oratory are connected with the old House of Commons. Were its walls still standing, were they endowed with memory, and could they speak, how would they tell of his famous speeches on American affairs, on financial reform, on Mr. Fox's East India bill, on the nabob of Arcot's debts! pieces of resplendent eloquence, in which reason, knowledge, and imagination vie with each other, all dressed in that livery of stately diction, with which his master mind was wont to clothe them as they fulfilled his service. Those walls would tell of that memorable scene of excitement, when he and Mr. Fox, after a firm friendship for many years, broke on the subject of the French revolution; the former exclaiming: "I know the value of my line of conduct; I have indeed made a great sacrifice; I have done my duty, though I have lost my friend; there is something in the detested French constitution that envenoms every thing it touches;" while the latter, bursting into tears, appealed to the remembrance of their past attachment, their reciprocal affection, as dear and almost as binding as the ties of nature between father and son. Those walls would tell of subsequent fierce conflicts between Burke and the Whig party, among whose leading members he had formerly been ranked; and how the violence, not to say bitterness of speech, that sometimes marked the debates between him and them, illustrated those well-known words of the wise man, "A brother offended is harder to be won than a strong city, and their contentions are like the bars of a castle." Those walls would tell of the significant looks with which Burke was often regarded when he arose to address the house, and how even strangers easily recognised him in his latter days, in the tall and elderly gentleman with a tight brown coat, bobwig with curls, and huge spectacles, on the side opposite to Mr. Fox; how occasionally even the eloquence of the great orator had a soporific effect, and an elaborate speech, full of abstract disquisition, extended rather beyond the limit of parliamentary patience, induced honourable members, not accustomed to go so deeply into things, to get up and put on their hats and leave the house; and how, finally, when a young generation appeared, knowing little of the days of Chatham and the applause he yielded Burke, they would sometimes, when he rose, rudely drown his voice with boisterous interruptions. Those walls could also tell of a ludicrous Irish incident in the history of Burke's oratory, and with what tact he turned it to account. "The minister," said he, comes down in state, attended by his creatures of all denominations, beasts clean and unclean; for the treasury, as it has been managed of late, is worse than Noah's ark. With such, however, as they are he comes down, opens his budget, and edifies us all with a speech. Well, he sits down. What is the consequence? One half of the house goes away. A gentleman on the opposite side gets up and harangues on the state of the nation, and in order to keep matters even, another half retires at the close of the speech. A third gentleman follows their example, and rids the house of another half." A loud laugh rung through the building at this bull of the great Irishman. "Sir," said he, addressing the chair, "I take the blunder to myself, and express my 66 satisfaction at having said anything that can put the house in good humour." Walking up and down Parliament-street-that pathway to the grandest of political arenas-along which so many anxious senators, their brains throbbing with excitement, their hearts bursting with passion, have gone to and fro, we pass and repass the shade of Edmund Burke, and have recalled to our minds two little incidents in this great man's life, connected with that well-known thoroughfare, the one illustrative of his strong feeling of political antagonism, the other of his pitiful and practical benevolence. One wet night, as Mr. Curwen, a supporter of Mr. Fox's views on the French revolution, was waiting for his carriage at the door of the House of Commons, Mr. Burke requested that he would give him a ride home. The former rather reluctantly complied. The two statesmen comfortably seated, Mr. Burke began to compli ment Mr. Curwen, under the mistaken idea that he agreed with him in his opinion of recent events in the history of France. The latter could not disguise his real sentiments, though he expected that by expressing them he would rouse the indignation of his companion. So it proved; for Mr. Burke, on hearing a declaration of sympathy with Fox, caught hold of the check-string, and furiously cried: "You are one of these people-set me down." They had reached Charing-cross. Mr. Curwen with difficulty prevailed upon the irascible statesman to continue in the carriage till they reached his house in Gerrard-street, when, without breaking the silence, which had lasted since his fiery exclamation, he hurried out of the vehicle, and ended for ever all intercourse with the honourable member. But the breast so susceptible of resentment was equally the subject of generous and kind affections. Going home from the house one night on foot, he was accosted by one of those unhappy beings who haunt the highways of the great metropolis, seeking for a subsistence the wages of vice, and who, wasted by want and sorrow, became a suppliant for charity. In reply to his inquiries, she stated that she had been lady's maid in a respectable family, and had been driven through gradations of misery to her present forlorn state, which she confessed to be wretched beyond description, looking forward to death as her only relief. "Young woman," said Mr. Burke, as he reached his door, "you have told a pathetic story; whether true or not is best known to yourself; but tell me, have you a serious and settled wish to quit your present way of life, if you have the opportunity of so doing?" "Indeed, sir," she replied, "I would do anything to do it." "Then come in," said Mr. Burke. "Here, Mrs. Webster," he proceeded, addressing his housekeeper, "here is a new recruit for the kitchen; take care of her for the night, and let her have everything suitable to her condition, till we can inform Mrs. Burke of the matter." The poor fallen creature was reclaimed through his compassionate care; and we must confess, that on that achievement of mercy our minds rest with a satis faction and pleasure far beyond what we feel as we dwell on his most brilliant intellectual exploits. Walking past Whitehall, we recollect that Burke, as paymaster-general in the Rockingham pursuits, and soothed his mind amidst sylvan scenes after the chafings and irritations of political controversy, his residences in London were only temporary and often changed. We find him during the sittings of parliament occupying houses in the Broad Sanctuary, Westminster; Fludyer-street; Charles-street; Duke-street; and Gerrard-street. One of these residences is associated with a wellknown story. While staying in Charles-street, he was visited one day by a young man, who with a rich genius had an empty purse. He had come to London as a literary adventurer, and had exhausted all the little stock of money he could scrape_together. He wrote a volume of poems, but he had no name to recommend it. In his distress he went to an opulent peer, who did not refuse his patronage, but passed by in total neglect the poet's application for pecuniary aid. The young man thought of Mr. Burke, and wrote a letter to him, "hearing," he said, "that he was a good man, and presuming to think that he was a great one." He went with a full heart to Charles-street, and there left the letter. He said, "The night after I delivered my letter at his door, I was in such a state of agitation that I walked Westminster Bridge backwards and forwards until daylight!" The commoner, with far less ample means, did what the nobleman refused. He helped the young man, gave him criticism and advice, sent round members of his family to get subscriptions for his work, introduced him to men of influence, and opened to him a door that led to fame and fortune. young man was the poet Crabbe, and it was not without tears that he used to tell of Mr. Burke's kindness. The cabinet, once occupied the office in that building devoted to this department; but there we cannot linger on our way back to Westminster Hall, where we must glance at the great orator on the most celebrated occasion of his life. The part he took in the impeachment of Warren Hastings was characteristic of the man. His imagination was apt to lead captive his reason, to inflame his passions, and to carry him away as on the wings of a storm. He did nothing by halves, and there was no resisting the outbursts of his impetuosity. Impelled by conscientious feelings, though directed by mistaken opinions, a moral power increased the force of the excitement. Hastings, no doubt, had been unrighteous in his administration of Indian affairs, but he was hardly the culprit that Burke made him out to be. The scene of the trial was Westminster Hall; and never since the days of Lord Stafford and king Charles the First had that edifice witnessed such an array of judicial state. It was fitted up with scarlet hangings, and was surrounded by military pomp. Grenadiers guarded the entrance, and cavalry kept the streets. Peers, in robes of velvet and ermine, were conducted by heralds to their appointed seats. The twelve judges were present in full judicial costume. On green benches, with tables, sat members of the House of Commons, and in a box, specially appropriated for their use, were the conductors of the impeachment. Fox, Sheridan, Windham, and Grey were of the number, all in court dresses. Burke, in like manner attired, was foremost among them. The audience, too, was worthy of the occasion and the actors. It was an assemblage of the beauty, chivalry, and talent of the land. Princesses and peeresses, generals and captains, authors and One more locality we must visit. Brompton is artists, together with ambassadors from foreign a neighbourhood where, formerly more than now, courts, crowded the seats appropriated for specta- consumptive invalids were wont to repair. Thither tors. The serjeants made proclamation. Hastings many a parent has conveyed his child as a last knelt at the bar, while his counsel, including high hope; and as we walk through its squares and legal names-Law, Dallas, and Plomer-were at streets, we feel an air of melancholy come over us, his side. The charges were read. It took two at the thought of domestic joys there crushed-of days to read them-a process which, tedious as it fair blossoms of promise there torn away. Burke was, did not diminish the interest felt in the pro- had a son he loved with his whole heart. Disease ceedings. On the third day Burke commenced laid its hand upon him, and the father took him to his harangue. It was a wonderful effort, full of Cromwell House at Brompton. Here he sunk and ingenious argument, pictorial description, splendid died. That blow nearly broke the great man's imagery, and resistless appeals, now swelling into heart. He never recovered from it. As we go terror, now melting into pathos. The ladies wept; down the gloomy lane by Cromwell House, we are there were hysterical sobs; Mrs. Sheridan fainted; led to ruminate on those pathetic passages in and even the heart of the stern chancellor was Burke's letter to a noble lord, in which he gives moved. At last came the thunder-clap:-"I im- way to his parental grief: "The storm has gone peach Warren Hastings of high crimes and mis- over me, and I lie like one of those old oaks which demeanors; I impeach him in the name of the the late hurricane has scattered about me. Commons House of Parliament, whose trust he stripped of all my honours; I am torn up by the has betrayed; I impeach him in the name of the roots, and lie prostrate on the earth. I am alone. English nation, whose ancient honour he has I have none to meet my enemies in the gate. I sullied; I impeach him in the name of the people greatly deceive myself if in this hard season, I of India, whose rights he has trodden under-foot, would give a peck of refuse wheat for all that is and whose country he has turned into a desert; called fame and honour in the world. I live in an lastly, in the name of human nature itself, in the inverted order. They who ought to have succeeded time of both sexes, in the name of every age, in me are gone before me. They who should have the name of every rank, I impeach the common been to me as posterity are in the place of ancesbe placed beside Demosthenes' crown oration. themy and oppressor of all." It was a speech to tors." Poor Burke! Writing to a friend, he said, "Mrs. Burke seeks tranquillity in prayer!" We must return, before we conclude, to the pri- We hope he did himself. That is the last and followed his early predilections for agricultural and approaching him through that Son with fained his rural retreat at Beaconsfield, where he joys. In communion with the Father of spirits, After he had ob- best resource for souls stripped of their dearest rate life of this eminent man. I am whom he is ever well pleased, the desolate find | world. The mother may bend over him with tearsympathy, and the wounded heart is healed. Amidst a cloud of domestic sorrow the shade of the great statesman here leaves us. His last days were spent away from his old London haunts, and his remains rest in the grave of his son and brother in the churchyard of Beaconsfield. A WORD FOR THE IDIOT. Had better be the head than heart. The teaching of the idiot-born!" ful eyes and an aching heart, but no response is there. His enfeebled powers can hardly direct his tottering steps; the mere animal part may be perfeet, but the mentality, that which raises man to the pinnacle of creation, where is it? Mind doubtless exists, but how beclouded! The jewel is there, but where the key to unlock the casket? These are no visionary pictures; the writer has had ample opportunities of seeing and studying many such. The statement will perhaps be almost questioned; yet, nevertheless, it stands out as a lamentable fact, that in England and Wales, according to the report of the Commissioners in Lunacy for 1847, there were ascertained to be at that time 26,516 lunatics in the various hospitals and asylums of the land; in Ireland (including wandering idiots and epileptics), 12,397; while in Scotland the numbers were 3413. Add to these the private patients in each country, the various medical and other officials, and it will be seen that the total number in Great Britain and Ireland, who are di lunacy, will not fall far short of fifty thousand persons! Attention is drawn to this stupendous fact, the more so that it opens up a question of stern importance as to the numbers of our idiot popula tion. THE title of this paper may startle some persons, and almost deter others from its perusal; for the very name of "idiot" conveys a something repulsive, that is instinctively shunned, and, if possible, put away from us. We confess to all this; for the human mind is ordinarily so constituted that a picture drawn of itself, to possess attraction must either contain the bright and beautiful, or be composed of the dark shades of gloom and tragic horror; either the one or the other readily com-rectly and indirectly involved in the subject of mands attention, and often creates an almost morbid | interest. Suffer us, however, to take the few materials at our command, the few colours of which the subject will admit, and to sketch the picture of him who, although unhappily in the lowest grade of our common humanity, is nevertheless a link in The lunatic has awed us into providing for our the chain, a strand in the cord, which binds man own safety by insuring his. He has been legislated to man. for, and recognised by acts of parliament; but the Be it remembered that the calamity of idiocy is poor and would-be harmless idiot class, whose numnot confined to the garret or cellar home of po-bers we have reason to fear are even larger than verty alone; for no class, no rank, is exempt. The poor man, with a family often large in number, demanding every strength of bone and sinew to give them mere bread, yet who toils on manfully and hopefully, and who, whether at the loom, the bench, or the spade, shows himself the man-steal a glance at him ever and anon, and you will see a deeper shade on the already care-worn face, or a pent-up sigh breaks forth, to be responded to by a shudder through his very frame. Why is this? Ask him, and he will tell you that when he returns to his lowly home, he knows too well that his sad welcome will be the unmeaning babble, or the pining moan, or the vacant stare of his idiot child. Under the pressure of this deep affliction, that strong heart of his will again and again be wrung with agony, and will be often well-nigh crushed within him. But next let us enter yon lordly mansion, the abode of luxury and wealth, and where grandeur meets us at every step. Yet the possessor of these halls, and the rich domains that surround them, has one feeling in common with the poor man whom we have just left, for he also has the one shuddering thought with which he dare not grapple, that in his only child, his long hoped-for heir, he sees an IDIOT. Let us give the outline of yet another picture. There is a family, united in the strongest and fondest ties of brotherhood and sisterhood, and full of prattle and joyous glee; but there is a sad gloom-spot which falls upon the sunshine of that little band. One child may be seen sitting apart; he is amongst them, but not of them; he is pitied and sympathized with; but, alas! he understands it not. He dwells alone in his own blank that of the lunatic, has no such adequate provision. Is he a pauper? there is but the unionhouse or the County Lunatic Asylum for him; and the kind of refuge he finds there the following facts will illustrate. Not very long since we visited one of our larg est lunatic asylums, and in the basement ward, amidst worse than hopeless epileptic and imbecile old men, possessing hardly the outward form of humanity, we found two little boys, idiotic it is true, but with intelligence enough to be terrified at the sights and scenes around them. And why placed there ? because their cases came under the clause of the act of parliament which says, regardless of age, "lunatic, idiot, or person of unsound mind." May some parliamentary Howard arise to teach our senators wisdom on a matter of such deep social importance! Let it not, however, be supposed that nothing has been done. We are thankful to know that the noble thought has been swelling in the hearts of earnest and benevolent men, and has at length burst forth into a recognition of this most deplorable portion of our com munity. The hand of philanthropy has been stretched out, and has kindly drawn the poor idiot from the cold outward world to a safe and happy asylum home. Until the year 1847, no public effort had been made in England for this object; but the effort once made, and an asylum for idiots having been founded, it soon became evident how much the need had been felt. Applications flowed in from every quarter, the stream still deepens and widens, and at a recent election of this charity, there were 192 candidates for admission. Speculations and indeed well-meaning doubts as to the possibility of educating the idiot are being removed, and the fact is becoming patent, that regularity, kindness, and devotedness of purpose, are reducing the chaos into something like order. Whilst, however, hundreds of the idiot children of the humble and less wealthy classes are being thus happily provided for by the hand of intelligent benevolence, and means are being used for increasing the sphere of usefulness by the erection of a spacious and appropriate building, there still remain very many children, belonging to families in the middle and higher ranks of society, whose position and means, as well as other considerations, forbid their availing themselves of any charitable | institution. To meet the case of such, and as a new feature in the social history of the age, more private and select institutions have arisen. There is an asylum of the kind at Bath, and, if we mistake not, one more recently at Cheltenham; nor must we omit to notice that, near Lowestoft, a physician who has given deep attention to this subject, and who has had peculiar advantages for fitting himself for such an undertaking, has established a rural institution, which seems well adapted for the purpose, and which has the peculiarity, we believe, of being the only institution in England expressly for imbecile children that does not partake of an eleemosynary character. Whilst it would be presumptuous to expect cure or even marked improvement in some cases, where from malformation or other causes the mental powers can hardly be said to exist, nor even the merest rudiments of brute instinct; yet in even such extreme cases something may be done, and in many of them much has been done; at all events there is the asylum with its boon of friendly shelter, appropriate treatment, amusement, warmth, and food; even so far a great philanthropic end is gained, and mercy, that high attribute of Christianity, receives a grateful sacrifice. But more, far more, than this can be and has been done. Paris, Germany, and Switzerland tell the welcome tale that endeavours are being made to restore this lost tribe of humanity to the rights of man. America sends her voice from Massachusetts with cheering tidings, urging on this noble and god-like effort. Our own England too, as we have mentioned, echoes back the sound, and proves that her mantle of charitable sympathy can enfold even the poor hapless and forlorn idiot. And who shall stay her hand, or say, What doest thou? THE DARIEN CANAL. In the present day, engineering achievements which a century ago, had they been possible, would each have marked an epoch, follow one another in rapid and startling succession. To meet the requirements of the ever-expanding commerce of the nations, broad rivers are yearly being bridged across, isthmuses, to use an engineering phrase, are canalized, mountains tunnelled, continents intersected with the all-uniting rail, and new highways for the restless activities of modern enterprise are opening up in every direction. It will probably *See Dr. Howes' Second Report on Idiocy. be in the recollection of many of our readers, that about six months since we devoted a paper to the exposition of a scheme, then exciting considerable attention among the mercantile classes, by which it was proposed to effect a canal junction between the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. This was known as the Nicaragua route. The engineering difficulties and the immense cost of this undertaking, however, taken in connection with the fact that, even if accomplished, its advantages would fall far short of the demands of the world's inter-oceanic traffic, render it extremely improbable that any practical steps will be adopted to carry out this project. Besides this route, no fewer than six other projects have been brought more or less before the public, of which one is partially executed. Commencing at the northern extremity of the thread of land that links together the two great continents of America, there is, first, the Mexican line of railway, extending from the Bay of Tehuantepec to the Bay of Campeche. Next, beyond the site of the Nicaragua route, we have a proposal for a roadway across the state of Costa Rica. The fourth is a railway from Chagres on the Atlantic to Panama on the Pacific, part of which has already been completed, while twenty-three miles of the journey has yet to be performed by means of mules on a miserable road. The first ten or twelve miles of this line is supported on timber-piles, driven into swampy land far worse than many of the bogs of Ireland, and formed one of the most arduous engineering operations that is to be met with in the history of railway construction. The next line suggested is from St. Blas or Mandigo to Chepo in the Bay of Panama. About 100 miles to the south of the Panama iron highway is the spot, in the district of Darien, where it is now proposed to cut a wide and deep seapath for the vessels of all nations. The remaining project, is to render the river Atrato on the borders of New Grenada navigable, and form a canal navigation into the Bay of Cupica or the river San Juan. Of all these conflicting schemes, that which proposes to excavate a watery route through the Isthmus of Darien possesses the greatest feasibility and the most universal interest. It has the sanetion of names eminent for engineering achievement, and has been favourably entertained by the governments of the first commercial nations of the earth. A company has been formed under the highest auspices, a deputation from which only a few weeks since obtained an audience with the French emperor, and secured his promise of cordia. co-operation in carrying out the project. Even so early as the sixteenth century the Spanish government instituted inquiries into the practicability of such an undertaking; but the difficulties to be surmounted being too formidable for the engineering science of those days, it was of necessity abandoned. These obstacles to the realization of this mercantile desideratum, although they have changed in character in more recent times, have scarcely diminished in number or force. Foremost among them has been the total lack of all reliable information respecting the interior of the country to be crossed, together with the jealous vigilance and hostility of the aboriginal tribes inhabiting it. If we except Dr. Cullen, who visited the Isthmus of Darien in 1848, and subsequently imparted to us some glimpses of its geographical features, we have had, until the present year, no evidence that this terra incognita has ever been completely explored by a white man. The only work professing to give anything like authentic information on this region of woods, swamps, unknown rivers, wild beasts, reptiles, and savage Indians, is the history of the buccaneers of the sixteenth century, written by themselves, and which records their piratical adventures on the coasts of the Pacific ocean. In the commission of their depredations, the isthmus was crossed several times by them; but as the natives by whom they were guided generally acted compulsorily in these excursions, they evidently took them by the most difficult and circuitous routes, and cunningly contrived never to return by the same way. These détours have rendered it impossible to define their route on a map with anything like accuracy. The attention of Sir Charles Fox having, in December, 1851, been specially called by Dr. Cullen to that portion of the isthmus lying between the two excellent harbours of Caledonia Bay aud the Gulf of San Miguel, two civil engineers were sent out in the spring of last year, under the auspices of Messrs. Fox, Henderson, and Brassey, as the representatives of an embryo company, for the purpose of making a survey of the proposed line. After an absence of four months and a half they returned, having to a great extent succeeded in their scientific mission; and Mr. Gisborne, one of these gentlemen, has since published, in the form of a journal and an official report, the result of their explorations.* By following the steps of these enterprising travellers, we shall be able to pick up many important particulars respecting this contemplated inter-oceanic route-a route, let it be remembered, which the great Humboldt, after devoting nearly half a century to the study of central America, has pronounced superior to any other that could be selected through that entire neck of land. Starting from Southampton on the 2nd of April, Mr. Gisborne and his assistant, Mr. Forde, arrived at Cartagena, one of the chief maritime towns of New Grenada, on the 1st of last May, where he was detained six weeks waiting for Dr. Cullen, who, it had been arranged, was to join the small exploring band. This time, however, was not wasted, for Mr. Gisborne and his companion undertook excursions into the interior for the purpose of making observations in the natural history, the vegetation, and the geology of the country. The former was likewise engaged by the authorities to examine and report upon an uncompleted canal, intended to connect the Dique and Magdalena rivers, the construction of which had been arrested by the failure of the contractor. The consummation of this work was regarded with intense anxiety by the inhabitants of Cartagena, as an antidote to many of the evils under which they were suffering, and as a germ of certain future prosperity. As a specimen of the inconveniences of which they complain, it may be mentioned that the journey to The Isthmus of Darien in 1852 : Journal of the Expedition of Inquiry for the Junction of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. By Lionel Gisborne. London: Saunders and Stan ford. 1853. Bogotà, the capital, consumes from twenty-two to twenty-five days, and costs 251. for a single person. The proposed canal would obviously economise both time and money. The Grenadian government, indeed, is so impressed with the importance of this undertaking, that, in Mr. Gisborne's opinion, it would be disposed to grant almost anything except money to a company engaging to open and maintain this navigation. The impoverished state of its treasury is strikingly apparent from the fact that, when lately threatened with an invasion by General Flores, the House of Assembly voted a forced loan of 2,000,000 dollars for the equipment and support of 20,000 troops, which sum they could only raise by selling the fortresses and cannon of the country. While impatiently tarrying at Cartagena, Mr. Gisborne encountered several other representatives of his profession, bent on somewhat similar errands, several of them with roving commissions between Atrato and Panama. Most of them were Americans. A singular specimen of native decoration also met his eye on one occasion. "The other evening," he says, "I saw on the opposite balcony a number of young ladies, one of whom seemed covered with the most luminous brilliants. I found that she had formed a necklace, bracelets, and brooch with a number of fire-flies, which I am sorry to say she had stuck upon pins. Notwithstanding their sufferings, they continued to emit their phosphorescent light for a long time, serving her vanity at the cost of a lingering death." Dr. Cullen being still detained at Bogotà, the seat of the government, where he was attempting to negotiate the cession of a lease of land for the intended canal, Mr. Gisborne took his depar ture without him, on the 11th of June, on board the brigantine "Veloz;" and in four days anchored in Port Escoces, or Scotch Harbour, so called from having been, in 1695, colonized by a number of Scotch emigrants, who were induced to attempt to found a settlement there by the allurements of an excellent haven, an exuberant soil, a salubrious climate, and the prospect of rich gold mines. This well-meant effort at colonization disastrously failed through the hostility of the aborigines and the buccaneers, and the jealousy of the Spaniards, entailing upon poor Scotland a loss of 400,000l. and the lives of many of her energetic children. On the spot shadowed by these melancholy remembrances it was that the enterprise of the nineteenth century was about to strive to conquer the defeats and disasters of the seventeenth. Here it was that the special labours that brought Mr. Gisborne from Europe were to commence. The isthmus at this point is inhabited by the Mandingo tribe of Indians, who are represented as very numerous, and exceedingly jealous of an invasion of their territory, which they and their forefathers have held and defended for ages against all hostile comers. Well knowing, as they do traditionally, the terrible consequences that have almost invari ably resulted from the incursions of white men, they are resolved to resist the aggressions of intruders at all hazards. The lapse of more than a century and a half has not effaced the stain upon the cause of civilization left behind by Spanish cupidity and cruelty; and any fresh attempts to penetrate the interior of their country, especially if attended by barometers, theodolites, the mea |