The following remarkable fact, I had from the lips of an eye-witness, a highly respectable American merchant, of Malaga. One day last winter, two butchers quarrelled in the market-place, and got to high words; and one of them, according to the usual practice in such cases, put his hand under his girdle, and half drew forth his knife. All the while, an escrivano, of known talent in his profession--a man who never allowed any one who confided in him, to be either tried or executed, stood close by. While the man still but half shewed his knife, as if uncertain whether to use it or no, the escrivano continued to jog him on the elbow: “_Da le_,” (give it him), said the lawyer, “_aqui estoy yo_;” (don’t you see that I am here, so that no harm can come to you). The butcher, however, had not been sufficiently roused, for he put up his knife; and the escrivano, turning to him with a look of contempt, said, “_Alma miserable!_” (mean-spirited creature), “and so, for the sake of 400 or 500 reals, you would not revenge yourself upon your enemy.” Before concluding these examples of a bad, weak, and tyrannical government, I cannot refrain from mentioning the case of a man, who has been in prison ever since the evacuation of Spain by the French army; and who has still many years of punishment before him. Shortly after the Duke D’Angouleme took possession of Barcellona, the inhabitants were one morning awoke by the ringing of bells, and other tokens of rejoicing: the cause of this was soon announced to be, that the Virgin of _Monte Serrate_, an image of silver or wood,--I forget which,--had come to Barcellona, of her own free will, probably considering herself more secure there, than in the convent of _Montserrat_; and about a year afterwards, when it became evident that the French intended no outrage upon the convent, it was given out that the virgin had signified her intention to return; but it was determined, upon this occasion, that she should not be allowed to return by herself, but that she should be carried with great pomp. A Catalunian peasant, who stood in the line of procession, perhaps with better eye-sight--perhaps with less faith, than his neighbours,--unfortunately expressed aloud, the thought that passed through his mind: “She’s only made of wood,” said he;--and for this offence, he was arrested, tried, and condemned to ten years’ imprisonment in the citadel! These various facts will suffice, I think, as proofs of that which I intended they should illustrate: the despotism and the weakness of the Spanish government--the total want of integrity that characterizes all its dealings--and its absolute inefficiency to execute the laws, either for its own protection, or for the redress of others.