black gowns and caps; and by the dull light the scene carried me back to the dark ages, and seemed a meeting of Inquisitors.
The subject under discussion was a motion to revive the old law of tithes, which had been abolished by the Liberal party. The law was passed unanimously; but there was a discussion upon a motion to appropriate a small part of the proceeds for the support of hospitals for the poor. The priests took part in the discussion, and with liberal sentiments; a lay member, with big black whiskers, opposed it, saying that the Church stood like a light in darkness; and the Marquis Aycinena, a priest and the leading member of the party, said that "what was raised for God should be given to God alone." There was another discussion upon the point, whether the law should operate upon cattle then in being or to be born thereafter; and finally, as to the means of enforcing it. One gentleman contended that coercive measures should not be used, and, with a fine burst of eloquence, said that reliance might be placed upon the religious feelings of the people, and that the poorest Indian would come forward and contribute his mite; but the Assembly decided that the law should be enforced by "Las leyes antiguas de los Espagnoles," the old laws of the Spaniards, the severities of which had been one of the great causes of revolution in all Spanish countries. There was something horrible in this retrograde legislation. I could hardly believe that, in the nineteenth century, men of sense, and in a country through the length and breadth of which free principles were struggling for the ascendancy, would dare fasten on the people a yoke which, even in the dark ages, was too galling to be borne. The tone of debate was respectable, but calm and unimpassioned, from the entire absence of any opposition party. The Assembly purported to be a popular body, representing the voice of the people. It was a time of great excitement, and the last night of its session; and Mr. Hall and I, four men and three boys, were the only listeners.
As it was not safe to be in the streets after eight o'clock, the Assembly was adjourned, and, after a short session the next morning, assembled at a state breakfast. The place of meeting was in the old library, a venerable room, containing a valuable collection of rare old Spanish books and manuscripts, among which had lately been discovered the two missing volumes of Fuentes, and where I promised myself much satisfaction. The only guests were Mr. Hall, the French consul-general, Colonel Monte Rosa, an aide of Carrera, and myself. Carrera was invited, but did not come. The table was profusely ornamented with flowers and fruits. There was very little wine drunk, no toasts, and no gaiety. There was not a grey-haired man at table; all
