retreat without turning his face from the tiger, who follows him step by step, watching for a false movement. The Guanche knows this; he makes his horse rear; the tiger darts forward and is caught; the horse springs away on his hind legs with all his power, dragging the ferocious beast after him. The Guanche turns round at times; and if his laço has caught only the neck, he flings a second, which binds the legs: he is now the conqueror. He dismounts, arms himself with the two knives from his boots,* and his victim expires. Having finished his day's work, he returns to Monte-Video; sells the skin of the animal he has killed; caresses his horse, and hastens to seek new dangers.

You may easily suppose, however skilful these astonishing people may be, that the irregular springs of such an enemy as the tiger may often enable him to escape the laço, and compel the Guanche to engage in another species of combat more dangerous than the former.. In such cases the horse plays the principal part, though the man makes the attack. When it happens that the laço has missed, which I can assure you is very seldom, the Guanche arms himself with his two knives, and defends himself very courageously. The horse sees the danger of his master, and in place of galloping off, presents his chest to the enemy. He knows that if he turns away, he will have no defender. His blood flows, but his courage never for one minute fails; he knows also that his master will not forsake him. If the tiger, exhausted by fatigue, allows the horseman a single moment's respite, it is all over with him; the laço, which is always ready at the saddle-bow, is again laid hold of; and for a Guanche twice to miss his aim, is almost unexampled.

* The boots of a Guanche are made of the skin of a horse's leg, turned inside out. His toes, never covered by this skin, are always free; and he fixes only his great toe in the little stirrups he uses. The spurs are enormously large.

How much trouble and pains must have been taken to accustom the horse to this extraordinary work? How many dangers does the man expose himself to, who ventures for the first time on such a combat with an untried horse?

The mode of living, the courage, and the activity of the Guanches must appear fabulous to those who are unacquainted with these people; and even those who have lived with them have some difficulty in crediting it. I know not why, but the presence of one of these men excites in me a species of veneration, which I can scarcely define. I have made an excursion with one of the most intrepid hunters of this country; we found nothing but wild mules, of which he frequently asked me to point out one for him to catch; and though I always chose the smallest, concealed in the middle of the herd, he never once missed his aim.

This Guanche was four feet eleven inches high; and his lean countenance, all skin and bone, had scarcely any expression, except when he was agitated by some violent passion; and in that state, I saw him once kill his horse, on account of being beat by a youth fourteen years old, at a game which is very frequent among this people.

Going out of Monte-Video, by the gate which leads to the burial-place, you meet with a barren spot, intersected by crooked and rising paths, which lead to a sort of suburb, about a league and a half from the town. A few days ago, I saw assembled there several Guanches, and among them the one with whom I had made some excursions. They were practising some difficult games, which I will endeavour to describe to you.

A Spanish doubloon is placed on a small heap, about a foot and a half high. The parties to the game, mounted on swift steeds, without saddles, are obliged, passing at full gallop, to pick up the piece of gold, without throwing down the tile on

which it is laid. There were only two out of a dozen persons, who carried away the doubloon several times without even moving the little tile. The youngest of these two was the most skilful, and gained a large sum of money. The Guanche of whom I have told you, indignant at being beat by a youth, began to be angry with his conqueror, who seemed to insult him by his coolness and malignant smile; he first turned his rage against himself; then he reproached his horse, which in a moment afterwards he stabbed dead with his knife.

The game in which they next engaged, is still more wonderful, and particularly terrific from its dangers. I shall describe it.

A Guanche mounted, but without bridle or stirrups, sets off at full gallop in a straight dry road. Another Guanche is placed in the road, provided with a cord, eight or nine feet long, at each end of which there is an iron ball; when the horseman is at the height of his speed, this cord is thrown about the legs of his horse, which gets entangled, and is thrown down with violence. The dexterity of the horseman is shown by his lighting on his feet, at a short distance from the head of the fallen animal. The prize is adjudged to him who has not used his hands to support himself.

To find amusement in such games, it is necessary, as it appears to me, to have a heart of iron; for, as a mere spectator, I could not look at them without extreme terror. In this game, the Guanche who killed his horse was victorious, and the youth who carried away the first prize from him, also disputed the second several times.

This youngster, I am told, has already frequently fought with large tigers, and been successful; and though his father has bequeathed him considerable wealth, he delights only in the deserts, in dangerous excursions, and in encountering wild beasts.

The cord and balls which I have described, are also employed with advantage against the tygers; and some Guanches even prefer them to the laço.

We sail to morrow, and though delighted to have seen this country, we shall leave it without regret.

We have had a very bad passage to Rio Janeiro; we lost our bowsprit, and arrived in the harbour in a truly deplorable

condition.

Adieu my friend; though I began this letter at Monte-Video, it will be sent from hence, and I shall arrive a few days after it; to what happiness do I look forward!

LETTER CLXII.

Rio Janeiro.

THIS is quite a new country, my dear Batlle. It is no longer the Brasil of 1817, but of 1820, which I find in America. All the people who crowd the streets of the city are Brasilians; the cultivators who seek wealth from its soil are also Brasilians; the generous soldiers too who already encounter fatigue, and prepare themselves for battle, and who blush to be under the command of an Englishman, are all Brasilians. Did they foresee their independence; or are they not the same people?

...

I have some friends at Rio, let us hasten to enquire of them. Oh! How richly does a country like this deserve the wishes which are breathed for its prosperity.

Where is the King?—At Saint Christopher.-What is he doing?-He is surrounded by great men, to whose voice he listens; he studies their characters, and places those who have the best claim to his confidence at the head of affairs; he wishes,

and is anxious to see his subjects happy. What do they on their part require? A constitution?-If he promises to give one, he will know how to support it.

Where is the Prince Royal?--With his father. His noble heart is forming great projects; his active mind finds reasons to support them; his young brother listens to his councils.-He already knows that the King's son should know something more than that he is the son of a King.

Where is the Princess Leopoldine?-In her apartments. She studies the nature of the country; orders distant excursions; collects rare plants, minerals, and animals; she enriches her father's cabinet; and with her zeal, and the charms she finds in such researches, she has inspired the ladies around her with a similar taste, and with a love for natural history.

The King's other daughters are no longer children, and in the happiness of their father they see the happiness of the people he governs.

In all the countries of the globe, the provinces imitate the capital, and the manners of the capital are formed by those of the court. You may judge, therefore of the difference which may be observed between the Brasilians of the present day, and those of 1817! It seems almost impossible, that three years should have effected so remarkable a change.

The new buildings are in rather a noble style of architecture, and in good taste. A French architect, M. Grandjean, has built a magnificent exchange, and a large amphitheatre in Saint Anne' Square, where bull fights are frequently exhibited; but I have observed, that in general the Portuguese differ in this respect from the Spaniards, and are not much attached to this sort of amusement, which is always purchased by the death of two or three gladiators.

I am not disposed to say any thing more to you of the con