The Sun.
London, England, 1848-01-17 00:00:00

0/
Vitina

LONDON, MONDAY. JANUARY 17, 1848.

ESPAItTERO has not only returned to the Spanish
capital with the permission of the Government, but
he has been received with an enthusiasm that sur-
passes description. He is the hero—the idol—the
great man of his oountry. Citizens of all opinions
have emulated each other in demonstrations of joy at
his return to them from the land of his banishment.
Since the morning of his arrival (January 7th) at
Madrid, the Calle de la iNlontera, a long and spa-
ciouS thorrougiifare, in which he has taken up his
temporary residence, has been choked with a dense
multitude. Every one ha,s striven to obtain a glimpse
of the illustrious warrior, and to afford him, by their
voices, a token of the affectionate admiration with
which he is regarded by all Spaniards. From day-
break until twilight the windows,. the balconies, and
the very roof-tops in the neirghhb.ourh.ood have been
lace r rice in the course
thronged by the poi.m .
were the doors a •
of the first morningo
Pn by the people. ,6 Thleis
dwelling-house broken
~
13,,5-a'sone who has vvitnesseyi
rushed to his pr.es.ence,
they lifted him from the
this popular delirium—
his feet. they embraced the
grourad—they fell at
hem of his coat—and hin.dred s of them wept and
sobbed like children." Although we place no re-
liance whatever upon the permanence of a devotion so
s 0,,
such
vociferous, and which displays itself ina acts
tumultuous extravagance, it is impossible to observe
this spectacle of excitement without experiencing emo-
tions of a profound and respectful sympathy. Spain is
so perillously situated, both in a geographical, a com-
mercial, and a dynastic sense, as to render a move-
milt like this one of a very peculiar importance. The
inhabitants of the Peninsula have been so monstrouslv
deceived by their rulers, and so infamously cajoled by
diplomei4ts of n crafty Cabinet, that th." most
phlegmitie must l'orgive tliPm when their aspirations
for national redemption impel them to thpAp evi-
dencla of love and reverence for the only statesman
who has enhanced his military glory by his legisla-
tive wisdom), who has given them security by his
conquests, and prosperity by his admimistration, and
Who had, above all, acquired immortality for himself
in the history of his native land, scarcely so much by
the capacity of his genius as by the operation of his
brilliant and uncompromising patriotism.
There is something, therefore, in the welcome
afforded to ESPARTERO by his countrymen be-
yond the mere ebullition of a long-pent rap-
are ; there is in it so much that is asso-
ciated with the hopes fur the preservation of

their common na lona ity, and the vindication of
their common independence, that a more than ephe•
meral interest attaches itself to the smallest incidents
which have marked the progress of this renowned
soldier since his departure from the scenes of his
exile in London. In tracking that progress we are
watching one of the most interesting phases in the
career of, perhap-S, the most remarkable adventurer in
our times. After a seclusion of four years in Eng-
land, ESPARTERO is summoned homewards by the
invitation of his SOVEREIGN. The vicissitudes of
Political events again lure him from privacy to pub•
licity, again elevate him from a private individual
to a powerful and conspicuous chieftain. In obe-
dience to the entreaties dispatched to him from
his Government, ESPARTERO hastens from his
villa in the Itegent's-park to participate in the
struggles which are being made in the cause of her
Most Catholic MAJESTY by the senators of ISABELLA.
On landing (January 4th) at San Sebastian he is
received by its inhabitants with shouts of delight ;
the Commandant of Carabineers, accompanied by the
municipal authorities, conveys him in a triumphal
barge from the steamer to the quay ; on pressing his
foot once more on the soil of Spain he is welcomed
with renewed acclamations—with acclamations worthy
of saluting the ears of the conqueror of Morella and
Luchana. The civilians conduct him to his residence;
picked companies from the garrison defile before his
windows, their colours flying, and their musicians
playing a❑ old Castilian march dear to his heart and
familiar to his senses. A guard of honour is posted
in the doorway ; EsrAwrzsto is serenaded in the
evening; all San Sebastian is animated with one
sentiment of devotion. On the Hernani-road the
Basques are hurrying down the mountains to obtain
a glance as he gallops onwards ; in every village he
is impeded by the congratulations of the Ayunta-
mientos ; at Bergara he is compelled to depart by
stratagem, to avoid being taken from his carriage and
borne on the shoulders of its inhabitants. From the
gates of Vittoria his journey becomes an ovation, and
he enters Madrid before the dawn of the 7th inst.,
and is greeted with the frenzy we have already de-
scribed. Nothing could by possibility have exceeded
the fervour of his reception. He is not only the lion
of the day, he is the idol of the whole population.
So passionate were the demonstrations of rapture on
the morning of his arrival in the capital that
ESPARTERO is said to have " cried like a woman,"
and to have entreated the crowd, " if they did not
mean to break his heart with joy," to take their de-
parture. Towards nightfall he was admitted
to an audience by Queen ISABELLA, and,
as might be conjectured, was welcomed not
only with kindness, but with affection. The
young QUEEN implored him to see her frequently—
" every day, every hour, if he wished to cause her
pleasure." Among the other inquiries made by the
Duke of VICTORY on this occasion was the question,
Whether her MAJESTY was happy ? " One inci-
dent is recorded as having taken place on the
following morning (January 8), which evidences a
manly sensibility redounding to the honour of
ESPARTERO. A young man presented himself to
offer hit; congratulations. " Who are you ?" said the
General. " Soy higo de ZURBANO," was the reply,
" I am the son of ZURBANO." ESPARTERO wept.
There is immeasurably more in all this ecatacy
of enthusiasm than an expression of popular idolatry.
Had we thought otherwise we should not have dilated
upon the details of the delirium which is just now
prevalent throughout Madrid. To us there is dis-
cernible, in an excitement so extreme, an after thought
greater than that of affording a fitting reception to a
single patriot, even though that patriot be Don
BALDOMERO ESTARTEINV The unanimity of all
parties, the participMrof the QUEEN and the
people in the same predominant feelings is, to
say the least, significant. To us it appears
to be the preliminary to a vital and mo•
mentous contest—a contest in which the Afran-
cesados may he extinguished. Of this great
struggle of Spanish patriotism the Dukes of VICTORY
and VALENCIA are to be the leaders—of its speedy
and successful consummation may the precursor prove
to he ESPARTERO.

We have, on several occasions, referred to the con-
troversy as to the extent and nature of the license of
counsel which has been originated by the I uhlished
opinion of Mr. RIGHT SLY Mors—by his opinion, we
say, as we have already proved, as well from the
Learned Gentleman's own statement as from a care-
ful examination of the evidence adduced on both
trials—that in his case the question did not really
arise. \V shall now proceed to consider the duties of
the different psrties upon whom the future fate of the
prisoner—his life or death, his freedom or captivity,
the restoration of his character or his perpetual infamy
—mainly depends--via., his jury, his judge, and his
advocate.

The duty of a juryman is embodied in the lan-
guage of the oath or affirmation that must be
administered to him before he is permitted to
enter upon the investigation. He is " a true
♦erdiet to give, according to the evidence." He is
to dismiss from his mind every impression he may
have received foreign to, or dehors, the evidence.
Though he may hare the strongest moral conviction
of the prisoner's guilt, he is hound to remove it
wholly from his mind, and to decide in accordance
with the testimony which has been adduced, and to
be influenced by that alone.

The duty of the judge is to direct the jury as to
the prOper manner of discharging their duty—to
guard them against any impressions from extrinsic
source:—to warn them against the influence of pre-
judice, zeal, or opinion—to explain the due weight
and bearing of the evidence, and its applicability to
the leading points hi issue. It is his duty to remind
the jury that the law of England tempers justice
with mercy, and that, if a reasonable doubt should
arise upon the evidence, they are bound to give the
prisoner the benefit thereof. lie is, in fact, the mo-
derator of the forensic dispute.
Lastly, the advocate, in the discharge of his duty,
is concerned upon the evidence—with the evidence—.
about the evidence—and that only. The instant he
travels from it he oversteps the line of his duty.
He is not to misquote the evidence, or to state that
that has been sworn by a witness which in truth was
not sworn. lie is not to fling his personal character,
or personal belief, into the scale—for in so doing he
would become a ititnegs ; nor is he, no matter on
what grounds, or from what private sources of infor-
mation, to condemn, or relax his exertions for the
acquittal of, his client—for in so doing he would
become a judge.
When the law concedes to him the solemn privilege
of keeping his client's secrets, and declares that, no
matter how urgent the circumstances, public or pri-
vate, may be, or how important soever the disclosure
might prove to the highest interests of the community,
he is not only entitled, but absolutely bound to make
no revelation, it regards not the counsel but the client.
The privilege is not conceded for the benefit of the
advocate—it is the prerogative of the accused ; and
when the client is thus encouraged to repose an un-
limited confidence in his counsel, can it for a moment
be
said to consist with this wise and just provision
that the counsel so confided in should suffer any state-
ments
manner to him by his client to operate in any
_whatsoever against that client, whether by
inducing bun to alter the line of defence he
would otherwise have adopted, to refrain
from urging the arguments
which
or
the actual
evidence on the trial would
gest—whether in determining manifestly esttoy
alludesug
merely to points 'of law, or, still worse, to damn his
that a
client by a faint defence? We not assert
counsel is not bound by moral obligations. We in-
sist that he is eminently so. And if the proper de-
finition
be—as we are told by those who profess to
Iflat a oven 36/ 38 hound to frlnte
If,r brat de%ence in his power
.1 rom the evidence given
of the trial, brae+ided that lit doing 80 he violates ita
m )I'ol we accept the definition, and
4
cordially concur therein, hut we hold that the first
moral obligation he is to observe is fidelity to his
client. Ilis very character as counsel imposes this
obligation upon him. lie is no doubt to avoid doing-
an y unnecessary injury to others, but he must not, in
his efforts to observe one moral obligation, violate or
trample upon another.
In commenting upon the views put forward by Mr.
SEYMOUR, some of our Contemporaries have given
expression to opinions on the subject with which we
cannot coincide. " On any terms (says one of the most
powerful) we conceive it to be inexcusable that an ea-