has suffered enough already, and we have no doubt she will accept any explanations which Napoleon III. may be pleased to offer her, and express herself amply satisfied. But if the emperor be bent on war, he will find a foeman not unworthy of his steel in Austria. Since 1848 the utmost efforts have been made to augment the efficiency of her army, and it is now as powerful and well-organised as the French. It is very possible that it might be beaten in a first campaign, for the Austrians are the slowest of all Germans; but, on the other hand, they possess a peculiar amount of dogged perseverance, which would render them most troublesome opponents in any protracted war. It is true they have lost Radetzky, who was so thoroughly acquainted with all the ramifications of Italian warfare, but he has left behind him many promising scholars, whom Austria may safely depend on in the hour of need.

We consider, then, that the appeal to public opinion on which Napoleon III. depended has failed, and although he alludes in such flattering terms in his speech to the intimate relations subsisting between France and Russia, he is far too wise to depend on that country for any valuable assistance in the event of a continental war. Russia is well aware of her own weakness, and that she cannot take the field with any chance of success for the next fifty years; and though she might do her best to cripple the resources of Austria, she would engage in no open hostilities. If, then, the Emperor of France be determined on war at any price, he now knows precisely where to look for his allies; from us he can expect no assistance, and if events forced us into an adverse position, he would only have himself to blame. His policy during the last three years has compelled us to draw more closely the bonds connecting us with Austria, and it might be that an aggressive war on his part would compel us most reluctantly to throw our weight against him in the interests of Europe.

But such a result would be most deplorable. Strong in our alliance, the Emperor Napoleon might have gone down to posterity with a reputation greater than that of his uncle, insomuch that he displayed the virtue of self-restraint which is so rare among autocrats; while, if he yield to the dictates of his ambition, and seek the hollow glory of the battle-field, he will turn his sincerest friends away from him, and deal his country a blow from which it would require years to recover. The liberation of Italy is not worthy such a sacrifice. In the words of Lord Derby, "the declaration that 'l'empire c'est la paix' had established confidence throughout Europe, and credit and prosperity in France," and we should be sincerely sorry to see such a result imperiled to satisfy a barren thirst for renown which would only end in bitter disappointment.

We confess that we have taken a gloomy aspect of the present state of continental affairs, for the moody silence the Emperor of France has maintained, and his incessant preparations for war, enforce such a view. Most heartily do we hope that our forebodings may be entirely frustrated, and that the emperor by one word of manly avowal will at once restore that confidence, the want of which is producing such lamentable results throughout Europe. One thing, however, is certain: unless Napoleon III. hastens to make that avowal, matters will grow beyond his control, and an awful responsibility will rest upon him and his advisers to evil.

NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

MEXICO AND THE MEXICANS.

THE popular mind satisfies itself with three very general ideas in reference to Mexico: first, that it is a vast and fertile territory, more particularly remarkable for its romantic scenery, as also for its dangers and inconveniences-both natural and artificial-from storms, banditti, and vile hostelries; secondly, that it had an ancient history, of which very little is known, save that its older inhabitants left some magnificent monuments of industry, and many more of a grotesque character, behind them; and thirdly, that as a Spanish viceroyalty, or a Spanish republic, its present inhabitants have inherited the pride and vices of the mother country, have superadded to them those of a tropical climate, and that the vices of the people having extended to its rulers, the whole nation is now in a state of anarchy and disorganisation.

And no wonder that the popular mind should be satisfied with such crude and imperfect ideas, when we consider that previous to the publications of our own native historian, the elegant and learned Robertson, little more was known of this and the other Spanish colonies than the history of their discovery and conquest; and even the information afforded by Robertson was, till the days of Prescott, most scanty and imperfect. For two hundred years, with the exception of Ulloa's travels, and the narratives of Bouguer and Condamine, no satisfactory intelligence had been communicated to the world relating to any of the principal Spanish settlements. It was not till Spain abandoned the system of secrecy and concealment, and threw open the trade to other nations, that travellers appeared such as Molina, Alcedo, Estalla, Depons, Antillon, and, above all, Humboldt, whose "Political Essay on New Spain" is, despite the changes which fifty years have called forth, a point d'appui for every writer on Mexico. The great Prussian's researches did not, however, extend to northern, or New Mexico, and we are mainly indebted to what we know of that region to the people of the United States, among whom Prescott takes the lead as historian, and Pike and Stephens as explorers. In our own times, C. Sartorius, a German by birth, but who has resided in this magnificent country, and amidst the people and with them, during a long series of years, has published what he designates as "Landscapes and Popular Sketches," not exactly "a book of travels, conscientiously detailing every event from day to day, with the customary adjunct of the bill of

* Mexico. Landscapes and Popular Sketches by C. Sartorius. Edited by Dr. Gaspey. With Steel Engravings by Distinguished Artists, from Original Sketches by Moritz Rugendas. Trübner and Co. 2 c

April-VOL. CXV. NO. CCCCLX.

fare, nor geographical, ethnological, statistical treatises, nor even a systematical enumeration of the natural history of Mexico; but views of the country, sometimes a mere outline taken at a distance, sometimes a more complete picture, drawn in the immediate vicinity, adorned with foliage and creeping lianas-sketches taken from the life, in the palace or in the cottage, in the far-extending savannah, or in the mine." It has, indeed, been Mr. Sartorius's aim to follow in the footsteps of the great Humboldt, and at the same time be, if possible, in one sense of the word, more popular in his descriptions. If Germany, he says, may be proud of possessing so scientific an architect, his pages "may perhaps be regarded as the ornamental carving and fluting of the great master's strictly correct edifice."

If we approach the coast of Mexico, as is usually done, by the port of Vera Cruz, with its renowned fort of St. Juan de Ulua, dark forests, gradually sloping upwards, are seen to enclose the sandy shore to the west; then follow several mountain terraces, one commanding the other, till at length, towering above all, the magnificent cones and indented summits of the dark blue Andes seem to support the clear vault of heaven. Majestically rearing their heads over their fellows are the snowy summits of the peak of Orizava and the wild jagged crater of Perote. From the latter the mountains branch off northwards to the sea, terminating in an abrupt rocky wall on the shores of the gulf, whilst to the south the Cordilleras extend in a huge semicircle in the distant horizon. Everywhere we find the same features-a narrow level tract of coast, not many miles in width, then a gradual ascent by gently inclining slopes to the spurs of the mountains, and finally to the highlands, which, almost uninterrupted, extend for many hundred miles from north to south, nearly parallel with the coast.

On landing, everything appears strange-language, dress, and complexion of the inhabitants, and the town, with its Andalusian Moorish trappings. "Here we behold a group of negroes and mulaties gesticulating in the most passionate manner, there the copper-cloured Indian silently offering his fruit for sale; the clearer skinned Mstizo, or Mestin, urges forward his horse, or trots on an ass after his vellladen mules, whilst the European or Creole dandy, puffing his car, examines the new arrivals. On one side the Paris fashions, on the oer the lightest possible clothing, consisting of a broad-brimmed straw t, coloured or white shirt, and ample trousers. The fair sex exhibits he same contrast: on one hand the greatest luxury, on the other half-nake What European can fail to be astonished at the sight of the fat negre there, who, seated comfortably at the door of her house, with a shot clay pipe in her mouth, caresses her perfectly naked offspring, clinging to and clambering about her like a very ape? Who would not cast a glance after that troop of Mestin girls, all mounted, with fluttering ribands in their straw hats, as, smoking their cigarettes, they jest with their brown admirer, who, seated on his long-eared steed, thrums his jarana and sings jocular songs ?"

The women and girls of the lower classes wear large four-cornered wrappers of calico, with nothing save a fine chemise, often embroidered and trimmed with lace beneath. They have also a wide petticoat of bright calico or muslin, sometimes with a white under-petticoat, whilst

the feet, innocent of stockings, are encased in light silk shoes. The dress of the wealthy Creole ladies is pretty much the same as with Europeans, being regulated by the newest Parisian fashions. For churchgoing, nevertheless, they adhere to the ancient Spanish black mantilla, falling from the head over the shoulders, and half way down the arms.

In Mexico, as indeed in all the originally Spanish colonies, the appearance of the towns is more or less similar to what is observed in the mother country. Straight streets with raised foot-pavements, massive stone houses with flat roofs, churches in the Italian style of the seventeenth century, with lofty towers and high cupolas, covered, for the most part, with parti-coloured shining tiles, meet the eye. The interior of the houses is decidedly Moorish. You enter through an arched gateway into the first court, surrounded by a colonnade, which is repeated in the upper stories. The doors and windows of the apartments all open on this court. In some districts there is a pretty fountain in the centre round which flowering plants are grouped in large vases. A.second court is usually surrounded by the servants' offices, kitchens, and stables. In Vera Cruz there are no fountains, the flat sandy soil does not afford a drop of water, and that which is furnished by the tropical storms is collected in large stone cisterns. Within the town the numerous black vultures, seated in long rows on the buildings, or disputing with the lean dogs in the streets for the refuse of the kitchens, make a strange impression, and, without, the shrubless downs impart a dull, forbidding feeling. Two great roads lead from Vera Cruz to the interior; the one passing through Jalapa and Perote, the other through Cordova and Orizava. The traveller may either proceed by mail-coach, by sedan borne by mules, or in a still more independent manner, mounted on a mettlesome little Mexican horse. The road lies at first over the sandy district, and it is some time before the wooded region is attained, and where the beautiful flowering trees, shrubs, and lianas rejoice the traveller's eye. On the banks of the river Antigua rows of black and white ibises, dazzling white herons, and red spoonbills, may be seen perched on the horizontal branches of the Ficus americana; and occasionally an old alligator may be seen sunning himself on a dry log, and looking like a log, too.

The huts of the garochos, or coasters, are the most simple things imaginable-walls of bamboo stems, and a roof of palm-leaves. The river supplies them with fish and turtle, the forest with game; ready money is obtained by charcoal burning, and they cultivate a little maize and a few fruits, as bananas, pines, oranges, and lemons. Such a bounteous nature makes man idle. If the garocho wants fuel he goes out with his donkey and brings in a fallen tree; he then passes it in by the door to the fireplace, and when the end is consumed it is pushed in further, and so on, till it gets into the house. On the same river is the village of the same name, the first permanent settlement of Fernando Cortes, and whose stone church is one of the oldest in the country.

Beyond this the traveller reaches the first palm forest. Our author, who is most minute, and, indeed, an invaluable guide, in describing the rich and luxuriant vegetation of the country, was, as might be expected, entranced at the scene now presented to his view. A forest of this kind, he says, represents "the grandest cupola; palms of all sizes constituted the proud vaulting, the capitals were represented by the blossoms

and fruit which regularly appeared under the stipules, the dark gloomy forest forming the walls, the light of the deep blue sky penetrating solely through the feathery palm foliage. A feeling of indescribable awe and reverence was given birth to in me, and too distinctly I recognised and bowed before the might of the All-Wise."

That part of the coast in which the conditions most favourable for luxuriance of vegetation-a powerful sun, and moisture loaded with carbon-exist, is the one least fitted for man. The moist atmosphere produces not only all the bad fevers prevalent in tropical regions, but calls into existence countless armies of tormenting mosquitoes, ticks, and blood-sucking insects, which render life a complete torment. The only sounds that enliven these dark forests are the chirping of crickets and grasshoppers, the chattering of parrots, the tapping of woodpeckers, and the of the apes.

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A few leagues more, and the plains, with their palm forests, are left behind, the country becomes undulated and rocky, chiefly volcanic, and rent by fearful chasms. In the summer months the tropical rains call forth a lively green in these savannahs or prairies, which extend from 800 to 2500 feet above the sea. At such times thousands of cows pasture on the rich juicy grass, tended by the leather-jacketed rancheros, who dwell in solitary farms, for there are neither towns nor villages in these wild districts. Yet it was not so in olden times. Traces of terraces, water-dams, houses, large cities, and miles of regular roads, are to be met with buried in shrubs and tall grass; remains of extinct tribes and of a dense agricultural population, who had been extirpated before the Spaniards invaded the country. At one time every foot of land appears to have been as diligently cultivated as the banks of the Nile, or the Euphrates in the days of Solomon. At other times of the year these wildernesses are clothed with low thorny mimosas and other shrubs and trees, whilst dark pillar-shaped cacteæ, opuntias, mamillareas, bromelias, and agaves start up from heaps of stones. In the dry season the prairies are also often set on fire, partly to destroy the clouds of tormenting ticks and tarantulas, partly to call forth a new crop from beneath the ashes. In this region the village of Codasta alone, the ancient Cantastlan, with fine ruins of hewn stone, covered with sculpture, dates from an historical period; it was a royal residence, and was destroyed in the Aztec wars with the Toltecs a century before the arrival of the Spaniards.

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On attaining an elevation of 2500 feet we come to the oak and evergreen forests. There is no gradual transition from bush to tree; complete forest stands all at once before us." This region extends to an elevation of 5000 feet. "Here we can breathe freely, no pestiferous vapours rise from the soil, no intermittent fevers rob the planter of his vigour, no enervating heats hem his activity. A soft, mild atmosphere prevails here all the year round, rendered pleasant during the day by the sea-breeze, cooled at night by the refreshing mountain air. Here the clouds, driven by the trade-wind towards the highlands, most frequently discharge themselves; the country is never long without fertilising rain, and the plants are nightly refreshed with a heavy dew. Without artificial irrigation, here flourish the sugar-cane, rice, tobacco, and the banana;