the Chief of his Staff. The connexion did not turn out a pleasant one for either party, and after various embrouillements the Ex-General exchanged his sword for the pen, and taking up his abode at New York, indited these Memoirs of his last master, which have cost him five years' labour, and which are published to enlighten the world as to the real character and merits of the President Liberator of Columbia.

We have no means of ascertaining the narrator's trustworthiness but such as are afforded by the book itself. He is a disappointed man, and writes like one. He bas endured, or believes that he has, neglects and injuries, from the subject of these memoirs. His avowed object is the demolition of Bolivar's reputation, which he regards as a great hoax upon the public. All this is little in his favour. On the other hand, he is not at all sparing of minute particulars, of names, dates, places, and the various materials for correcting whatever errors he may have committed, and if he have ventured on invention for exposing it to his irretrievable disgrace. At the best, there is probably a good deal of exaggeration and (it may be) unconscious misrepresentation in his narrative; at the worst, we cannot but think it more true than false; and that is enough to keep Simon Bolivar out of the calendar of pure patriots, and even out of the roll of brave and able generals.

Egregious vanity, and habits offensively licentious; a gross deficiency of personal courage and military skill; occasional treachery, private and public; both vindictive and wanton cruelty; and that low-minded ambition which seeks personal aggrandizement per fas aut ne fer: such are the distinguishing traits of the portrait here exhibited: were they only set forth oratorically, little impression would be produced; but they are supported by, or embodied in, a distinct and circumstantial narrative.

Various questions must occur to the reader, most of which the author has anticipated. Has not Bolivar repeatedly had the Dictatorship pressed upon him, and repeatedly resigned it? He shews that it has always been in fact, some times in form, his own assumption; aud that he has never let go any power which he could hold. But did he not actually rid the country of the Spaniards? The author replies that, without the most inconceivable mismanagement, the Spa niards must have been expelled years and years before. How then, and this is the most difficult question of all, is his

acknowledged popularity to be accounted for? It is replied, by the ignorant and debased state of the people on whom his arts of cajolery have been practised with perseverance; by the continued oppressions and cruelties of the Spaniards, to which his elevation seemed the only alternative in their choice; and by his promptly and dexterously availing himself of circumstances as they occurred to promote his personal views and reputation. Such, in substance, are the ExGeneral's explanations, which on the last point seem less complete than on the others.

It seems to be, "like master like man," in Columbia. The people are described as most superstitious, ignorant, and demoralized. Of their bigotry the following tale is told as a specimen. It is related on the authority of the French officer himself.

"Lieutenant-colonel Collot, a French officer, who had served in France under Napoleon in the artillery, came over, as many others did, to the Main, and served in his rank as an artillery officer in the army of the patriots. Becoming much disgusted, he asked his dismission from General Urdaneta, with whom he was serving. His request was refused. Soon after, he obtained leave to go from the environs of Tunja to Carthagena, where he had some private business to settle. He travelled on horseback, with a guide, a servant, and a few dragoons, all well armed. After travelling a number of days under a burning sun, he arrived at a large borough in the interior of New Granada, called Fa-, before the largest inn of which he dismounted. As soon as he came into the house, he was suddenly seized with great pain and fever, insomuch that he cried aloud. The people of the inn put him to bed, and called in their priest, in great alarm. This man was versed in the arts of curing, and, believing the stranger to be in the last extremity, came with the viaticum. He sat down before the stranger's bed, and made various inquiries about his malady; and then told him it was not of a dangerous nature. He ordered the numerous bystanders to retire. When all were gone out, he rose from his chair, and carefully locked the door. He then resumed his seat, and in an interested manner inquired if he was a Christianmeaning a Roman Catholic, which in these countries the word signifies. M. Collot understood him, but answered not his question; and supplicated for a glass of water. The parson told him he should first answer to his God, of whom

be was the representative, whether he was a Christian. The patient, under the suffering of pain and thirst, (having been born a Catholic,) answered that he was. The parson then opened the door, and, at his call, some excellent lemonade was brought in a short time, which in some measure relieved him. The priest then renewed his questions about his disorder; and told him he had an Indian, not far from the borough, who could cure him perfectly; but, as you are a Christian,' added he, it is necessary to confess you first, and that you receive the sacrament, which will cause half your cure.' The Colonel replied, saying, that this was surely a jest; that the Indian might come and cure him, after which he would confess himself with great pleasure. No, no, my friend, it is absolutely necessary to begin with the confession and the sacraments.' M. Collot, seeing his obstinacy, told him to go out. The parson jumped from his seat in a violent passion, saying, 'Well, Sir, as you deny your God, I can give you no help;' and then he went out, shutting the door with violence.

"A miserable night lamp was in the room, and he saw what they call a Christ, suspended under a small lookingglass upon the wall. M. Collot remained some time in a state of stupefaction; then raising his head, he perceived that silence reigued through the house. After suffering in this condition for about half an hour, with pain and fever, he called as loud as he could for assistance. The door half opened, and a woman demanded, in a harsh and stern voice, what he wanted; Assistance, for God's sake,' he answered; help, help, for I am deadly sick.' He spoke in good Spanish; but the door was shut immediately. He received no answer, and silence again reigned over the whole house. Notwithstanding frequent calls for a glass of water, no one came to him. It was expressly enjoined upon his servant, who was very much attached to him, to remain with the people, or he would incur the vengeance of the holy father, as they called the priest. The servant was a native of New Granada; and was so terrified by these words, that he did not dare go to his master's assistance. The priest, in his curse, had distinctly declared that no one under pain of excommunication should enter the room of that perverse sinner, who denied his God.' Colonel Collot at last asked, as a great favour, that the landlord would come to him for a minute. After a long time the landlord appeared, half opened

the door, and harshly demanded, what was wanted of him. 'Come nearer, my friend,' said he; I want to speak with you.' 'What,' said the landlord,' will you confess yourself? Shall I call the reverend father priest? O do so; it would make me happy above any thing.'

"No, Sir, I do not speak of confession, I wish - I cannot hear you then,' said the landlord: good bye, Sir: may heaven assist you.' So saying, he shut the door and disappeared. The Colonel in his distress made every exertion to move their compassion, but in vain. They absolutely refused to do any thing for him.

All

"The apprehension of dying in that condition at last compelled him to declare that he would be confessed and take the sacrament. The parson came, after four hours' absence, at eleven o'clock at night; and the Colonel confessed and received the sacraments. was now changed around him. The Indian perfectly cured him, in the following singular manner: He stripped him naked, anointed him with a decoction of indigenous plants, and, laying him on the ground upon some blankets, he handled him just as a baker kneads bread; so that he cried out with pain. The Indian continued the operation until his patient was in a proper sweat. He then wrapped him in a blanket, and put him to bed. The next day the operation was repeated, and the Colonel was perfectly cured. When he was quite recovered, he was scarcely suffered to depart. He and the priest became close friends, and he was treated by all the inhabitants with the kindest hospitality. When he insisted on going, and asked the landlord for his bill, he was told that so good a Christian owed nothing. He could not prevail on them to receive any thing. On the contrary, at his departure, a mule was laden with excellent provisions and choice fruits for his journey.”—l. pp. 55-59.

To this story is appended a sketch of the characteristic differences of the inhabitants of the several provinces which constitute the new State of Columbia:

"The character of the inhabitants of New Granada is very different from that of Venezuela. A striking difference also exists among the thirty-seven provinces of Columbia in this respect. The Margaritans, for example, differ in many points from the Llaneros; so do those of Cumana and Barcelona, from those of Caraccas, &c.

"The Caraguin is much quicker, more petulant, and also more sanguinary, than

the man of Bogota. He is also more enlightened. But he is more corrupt, vicious, false, cunning, jealous, and inclined to vengeance, than the Granadian. The latter having given his word will keep it. The Caraguin will give his word promptly, and will add protestations, and even oaths; and after he has deceived you, he will laugh at your credolity. The Caraguin will sacrifice every thing for pomp and show, and especially for a brilliant retinue. The Granadian is more modest, more prudent in his expenses, and has far more order in the interior of his establishment. The Caraguin, when observed, will give handfuls of gold to a beggar. The other will give secretly, but not profusely, and will enter into the feelings and sufferings of the object of his charity; while the Caraguin gives, and thinks of him no more. In almost all the convents of Bogota, there was a house for the poor maintained by the charity of private persons. There was besides, a large hospital for men, and another for women.

"The Creoles generally are jealous of all foreigners, and dislike to be commanded by any but their own countrymen. They will obey a foreigner, in their necessity, but as soon as they cease to feel their need of his services, they obey him no longer, and use every exertion to turn him out. Duty and gratitude have little or no weight with them. In Venezuela, where no foreigner has ever been admitted to the chief command, there have been repeated instances of their being displaced. In New Granada, various foreigners have been entrusted with distinguished commands: and have generally been perfectly well received and treated, and still are so. The Caraguin, as he hates all foreigners, despises the Granadian, and submits with great reluctance to be commanded by him, taking every opportunity in his absence to render him suspected or contemptible.

"The uncultivated and ignorant Llaneros will encourage no stranger, extending their aversion to Europeans, Caraguins, Granadians-to every one not born in the plains of their country.

"The antipathy and hatred existing between the inhabitants of Venezuela and New Granada, is strongly expressed, though no good reason can be given for it. It is well known to have existed for centuries, and continues in full force to this day. It has produced consequences dreadful to the cause of Independence, as I shall shew in the course of this memoir. The vain and proud Caraguin has

never ceased to despise and ridicule the more ignorant Granadian, who, while he feels his own inferiority, secretly and bitterly hates the other on account of it. The native of Caraccas is distinguished by his gesticulations, his continual talk, his boasting and biting wit. He has a sovereign contempt for all who are not born in his own province. It has been said by well informed persons, that the Caraguin has all the vices of the native Spaniard, without any of his virtues."— I. 59-61.

In the war of Independence there has been a frightful mass of crime and suffering, and doubtless much also of individual disinterestedness, heroism, and martyrdom. Such contests are always distinguished by the worst atrocities, and the noblest virtues of which human nature is capable. The records of the French Revolution especially present, in the midst of the most revolting scenes, examples of magnanimity and self-sacrifice, not to be paralleled in romance. There is little of this kind in the work before us. One instance of female determination is worth extracting, although we could have wished to feel more sympathy with the object for which this strength of resolution was evinced :

"The wife of General Arismendy had a rich uncle, who had been many years settled at Trinidad, and had often pressed her to come and visit his family. At the end of 1815, she suggested to her husband the plan of going herself to Trinidad to pay the long-desired visit, and also for a more important purpose, which was to solicit from her uncle, by way of loan, a large sum of money for the purpose of aiding the war: her husband refused his consent to her going, and pointed out the dangers to which she would be exposed in that time of war and trouble, particularly from the numerous cruising vessels of the enemy, which then covered the seas in almost every direction from Margarita. She persisted, however, in her purpose, and at length obtained his consent, and a proper commission from him for obtaining the loan. She was young, handsome, and well educated: she embarked in a small schooner, without even a servant, and when she went on board, was unknown to any one in the vessel. After sailing some days with a fair wind, the schooner was chased and overtaken by a Spanish privateer, and though she sailed under Dutch colours, was sent into Porto Cabello.

"As soon as she arrived in that city, she was recognized by a number of per

sons as the wife of General Arismendy, and was immediately arrested and put into a dark and damp dungeon in the citadel. Arismendy, who almost always put his prisoners to death, had spared three Spanish Colonels and Majors, whom he put into one of his forts, that they might serve him as hostages in case of need. The governor of Porto Cabello knew their situation. They were beloved by their superior officers, and the governor sent one of his officers to Arismendy's wife, with his word of honour, that she should be immediately set at liberty if she would write a line to her husband and persuade him to release the three Spanish officers in exchange for her. She feared that her husband would be weak enough, as she expressed it, to consent to the proposal, and she positively refused to write. By the urgency of the governor, she understood the importance of these officers, and told him plainly she would not write. After she had received a number of visits to the same purpose, the governor came himself, and endeavoured to persuade her, but in vain. They then threatened her; but she replied, laughing, that it would be cowardly to torment a defenceless woman, whose only crime was being the wife of a patriotic general. They next employed more rigorous treatment with regard to her living, but still treated her respectfully, and promised her immediate liberty if she would write to her husband to release the officers. At length she became vexed with their importunity, and told the officer who came to her, that if General Arismendy were informed of their cowardly treatment of her, he would be mad as a tiger, and would put to death thousands of Spaniards, men, women, and children, all that might fall into his power; and that, for her part, she was determined never to commit so weak and vile an act as they required of her, and that she would suffer a thousand deaths rather than attempt to persuade her husband to forget his duty.

"During three months she was treated with great barbarity, but she remained firm, and constantly gave the same answers. The Spaniards at last finding that nothing could alter her determination, permitted her to go to the Island of Trinidad, fearing that if her husband should hear of her detention, he would do as she had predicted. Such was the wife of General Arismendy at the age of twenty-three years."-II. 228-230.

Very glad shall we be to find this publication leading, by discussion and further information, to the solution of the

doubts which have been felt here as to the character of Bolivar. Very glad, indeed, shall we be to find him "more sinned against than sinning," to have a satisfactory vindication of his past conduct crowned by his future patriotism; and to recognize in him not the blundering ape of Napoleon, but the manly imitator of Washington.

ART. VIII.-Memoirs of the Life and Times of Daniel De Foe. By Walter Wilson, Esq. 3 Vols. Hurst. 1830.

THE "Life and Times," should rather be entitled the "Times and Life" of Daniel De Foe; for it exhibits but a scanty stream of biography meandering through an immense field of political history and disquisition. The great events and characters of those days are made to pass in review before us simply because De Foe animadverted upon them, as if the opinions of a pamphleteer, even though that pamphleteer was afterwards the author of Robinson Crusoe, were a thread sufficiently large and strong to hold together the facts of history. So large a picture required a central figure rather more colossal in its proportions. De Foe is often not very prominent, and sometimes scarcely visible, in his own life. It was scarcely possible that, on such a plan, an interesting book, to the great majority of readers, should be produced. A long succession of long quotations from by-gone controversies; even including that protracted one on Occasional Conformity, will be too much for the many, and not enough for the few, who make such matters their study, and who after all must have recourse to the publications themselves. At the same time, the principles, spirit, and power of the author, the Cobbett of his day, with integrity and consistency to boot, are an apology for Mr. Wilson's propensity to extract, which we cannot but feel. The really biographical part of the work we have very briefly epitomized for our readers.

DANIEL DE FOE (the DE was an interpolation of his own, his father was plain James Foe, a butcher in St. Giles, Cripplegate) was born in the year 1661, and, it is supposed, baptized by the Rev. Samuel Anuesley, LL.D., an ejected minister who then preached at a meetinghouse in Little St. Helen's, Bishopsgate Street, on whom his parents attended. He was educated in an academy at Newington Green, conducted by the Rev. C. Morton, who afterwards emigrated to

New England, and became Vice-president of Harvard College. His original destination was to the ministry, among the Presbyterians; and it does not appear why this intention was abandoned. in 1685 he joined the standard of the rash and ill-fated Monmouth; and upon the failure of that attempt returned unnoticed to the metropolis, where for the next ten years he appears to have been engaged in trade as "a hose-factor, or the middle man between the manufacturer and the retail dealer."

This occupation he carried on in Cornhill; but during some part of the time he had a residence at Tooting, in Surrey, "where he was the first person who attempted to form the Dissenters in the neighbourhood into a regular congrega tion." Dr. Joshua Oldfield was their first pastor. De Foe had early in life commenced Author and Controversialist; and from this period he took an active and ardent part in the political discussions of the agitated times in which he lived. While he was the acute and sarcastic opponent of the Tory and High Church Party, the Nonconformists occasionally feit bis lash for their inconsistencies. In business he was unsuccessful; his original attempt, and other speculations in which he afterwards embarked, having all come to a disastrous, though not disbonourable, termination. Towards the conclusion of the seventeenth century "De Foe took up his abode at Hackney, and resided there several years. Here some of his children were born and buried. In the parish register is the following entry: Sophia, daughter to Daniel de Foe, by Mary his wife, was bap tized, December 24, 1701.' Martha de Foe, a child, was carried out of the parish to be buried in 1707.'" The extravagance of Sacheverell and others of the High Church Party provoked De Foe to publish, in 1702, his "Shortest Way with the Dissenters," and a very short way it was which he thus ironically suggested, viz. pulling down all the meeting-houses and sending the ministers to the galleys or the gallows. The faction was so blind as to fall into the trap; the proposition was at first taken for earnest and praised in earnest; and when the trick was discovered, the spirit of persecution stood confessed and almost confounded. But the joke was too biting to be borne without vengeance. The House of Commons ordered the book to be burned by the common hangman; the government offered a reward of fifty pounds for the apprehension of the Author; he was tried for libel at the Old

Bailey; cajoled by his own lawyers into not making a defence; convicted, and sentenced to pay a fine of 200 marks, stand three times in the pillory, be imprisoned during the Queen's pleasure, and find securities for his good behaviour for seven years. Such were the tender mercies of Church and Queen. The disgraceful part of the punishment failed of its effect; De Foe wrote a Hymn to the Pillory, and the people wreathed it with flowers. He remained in prison till the change of ministry in 1704, when Harley obtained of the Queen his release, and gave him an appointment which he held while that administration continued in power. It is thought that by this connexion his Whiggery was somewhat modified. While in prison he projected, and commenced the publication of his "Review" of public affairs, which at first only contemplated those of France, but was afterwards extended to all departments of politics and public morals. At first it was a sheet once a week, but was chauged to half a sheet twice a week. It may be considered as the prototype of such works as the Political Register. It was continued till nine volumes, of 100 numbers each, were completed, of which De Foe was the sole writer. As a record of his opinions it is largely used in the work before us. In 1706 De Foe was sent into Scotland by Harley and Godolphin to promote the Union; a measure which he had himself suggested, many years before, to King William. He entered very heartily into the object of his mission, and by his conversation and pamphlets, which appear to have been all the agency he exercised, did much in reconciling many who were disaffected. It was not long after his return from Scotland that he fixed his abode at Stoke Newington. In 1715, after various political conflicts, in the course of which he had been again in Newgate, and been ill-treated and disgusted by both parties, he formed the resolution of taking a public leave of political life by a pamphlet entitled "An Appeal to Honour and Justice, though it be of his worst Enemies. By D. De Foe. Being a true Account of his Conduct in Public Affairs." 8vo. Pp. 58. Before the completion of this work he was struck with apoplexy, and his recovery was deemed so doubtful, that after a delay of six months it was published by his friends without his finishing hand. He did recover, however, and survived sixteen years, and during this period it was that the works were produced by which now he is best known. Not only that book of books,