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heaven, whose history excites so many feelings of romantic interest. We have loved to think of the manly pride and honor, to a proverb, of the old nobles of Castile and Arragon, and the lofty bearing and high courage of its haughty but generous Hidalgos. Often cold in outward manner, but full of fierce passion and latent enthusiasm, we believe no nation has exhibited in the field more splendid instances of unshrinking bravery or adventurous daring: from the times, when for hundreds of years they provoked and sustained the furious onset of a half barbarous and warlike people, whose trade was blood, and to whom the warshout was the very breath of life, till they drove them from their shores at the lance's point; from fatal Pavia, where the chivalry of France quailed at the fierce charge, and Dennis Montjoye was drowned in the war-cry of Iago! and close, Spain! down to our recollections of Saragossa's ruin'd streets

And brave Gerona's deathful story,

where can history point out more brilliant examples of lofty courage and undaunted resolution? The moonlight that lingers on the Alhambra's time-worn but magnificent walls,-the golden sands of the Tagus, the abounding beauty of the rolling Guadalquiver ;-her impassable mountains, her mighty forests, her vineyards and olive groves, and the twilight music of her light guitar, gaily sounding to the graceful movement of

many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequer'd shade ;

more than this, the rich and glorious beauty of her dark-eyed daughters; how many romantic incidents, how many pleasant dreams does the name of Spain awaken ?

Her fascinating literature, too, so full of humorous description, of poetic incident, and of brilliant invention;-her ballads, now, mournfully deploring the fall of some heroic chief or splendid city; now, in bolder numbers, recounting the story of successful resistance of their Moorish assailants, or of some daring foray upon these spirited and restless neighbors; and now, in more graceful strains, uttering the tender pleadings and reproaches of devoted passion; above all, those friends of our boyhood, who have grown dearer to us through every step of advancing manhood, Sancho and his master,-Rosinante and Dapple, for every one of whom we entertain too great respect to feel the full ridicule of their adventures ;-we cannot help loving them all. But our recollections detain the reader too long from the author. The following is a pleasing description of the dress of the inhabitants in a small town on the frontiers.

"The little village of Tordera lay just beyond the bank of the stream, and its whole population had come out to the corner of the last house, to witness our simultaneous arrival. It happened to be Sunday, and, as I have sometimes fancied is apt to be the case, it brought with it a bright sunshine and a cloudless sky. The inhabitants, in consideration of the day and the weather, were decked in their gayest, furnishing me with a first and most favorable occasion of seeing something of the Catalans and of their costume. The men were of large stature, perfectly well made and very muscular; but there seemed something sinister in their appearance, partly produced by the length and shagginess of their hair and the exaggerated cast of their countenances; partly, by the graceless character of their costume. It consisted of a short jacket and waistcoat of green or black velvet, scarce descending half way down the ribs, and studded thickly with silver buttons, at the breasts, lappels, and sleeves; the trowsers of the same material, or of nankeen, being long, full, and reaching from the ground to the arm-pits. Instead of shoes, they wore a hempen or straw sandal, which had a small place to admit and protect the toes, and a brace behind with cords, by means of which it was bound tightly to the instep. Their dark-tanned and sinewy feet, seemed strangers to the embarrasment of a stocking, whilst their loins were girt with a sash of red silk or woollen. This article of dress, unknown among us, is universally worn by the working classes of Spain, who say that it keeps the back warm, sustains the loins, and prevents lumbago; in short, that it does them a great deal of good, and that they would be undore without it. Most of the young men had embroidered ruffles, and collars tied by narrow sashes of red or yellow silk; some displayed within their waistcoat a pair of flashy suspenders of green silk, embroidered with red and adjusted by means of studs and buckles of silver. The most remarkable article, however, of this singular dress, and by no means the most graceful, was a long cap of red woolen, which fell over behind the head, and hung a long way down the back, giving the wearer a look of a cutthroat. Whether from the association of the bonnet rouge, or some other prejudice, or from its own intrinsic ugliness, I was not able, during my short stay in Catalonia, to overcome my repugnance to this detestable head-gear.

"As for the women, some of them were dressed in a gala suit of white, with silk slippers covered with spangles; but more wore a plain black frock, trimmed with velvet of the same color. They were generally bare-headed, just as they had come from their dwellings; a few, returning perhaps from mass, had fans in their hands, and on their heads the mantilla. The Spanish mantilla is often made entirely of lace, but more commonly of black silk, edged with the more costly material. It is fastened above the comb, and pinned to the hair, thence descending to cover the neck and shoulders, and ending in two embroidered points which depend in front. These are not confined, but left to float about loosely; so that, with the ever moving fan, they give full employment to the hands of the lady, whose unwearied endeavors to conceal her neck furnishes a perpetual proof of her modesty. Though in former times, the female foot was doomed in Spain to scrupulous concealment, to display it is now no longer a proof of indecency. The frock had been much shortened among these fair Catalans, each of whom exhibited a well turned ancle, terminated in a round little foot, neatly shrouded in a thread stocking, with a red, a green, or a black slipper. They were besides of graceful height and figure, with the glow of health deep upon their cheeks, and eyes that spoke a burning soul within. There was much of the grace, and ease, and fascination of the Provencelle, with a glow and luxuriance enkindled by a hotter sun." pp. 19, 20.

The author states in a note to p. 30, to which we refer the reader, the singular fact, that a steam engine was used in Barcelona, for the purpose of propelling vessels, as early as the year 1543: and shortly after, p. 47. he gives a shocking story of the robbery of their diligence and an attempted murder of the conductors. At which interesting but unenviable scene, had we been present, without means of defence,

certainly all our romance would have oozed out at the ends of our fingers. Our traveller, however, proceeds with unabated courage.

After a journey, replete with various and more pleasant incidents, he arrives at Madrid, and, amongst other things worthy of note, visits the museum of statuary and painting, which obtains his great and, as is seems, deserved eulogy. The author shall here speak for himself.

"The Spanish school is chiefly celebrated among painters for perfection of perspective and design, and the vivid and natural carnation of its coloring. One of the first painters who became celebrated in Spain was Morales, who began his career about the time that Raphael's was so prematurely closed, in the early part of the sixteenth century, and whose heads of Christ have merited him the surname of Divine. Morales was a native of Estremadura, but the art in which he so greatly excelled made more rapid progress in the city of Valencia, where a kindly soil and a kindlier sky seem to invite perfection. Juan de Juanes is considered the father of the Valencian school, which in the beginning was in imitation of the Italian, but which afterwards assimilated itself to the Flemish, and to the manner of Rembrandt and Vandyke; until, under the name of the school of Seville, the Spanish painters had acquired a distinctive character.

"Under Ribera, better known at home and abroad by the singular surname of Espanioleto, the Valencian school attained the highest perfection. The subjects of Espanioleto are chiefly Bible scenes, taken indifferently from the Old or New Testament; but his most successful efforts have been the delineation of scenes of suffering and sorrow, such as are abundantly furnished by the lives of our Saviour and the saints. In describing the extremes of human misery, a macerated wretch, reclining upon a bed of straw in the last agony of starvation or infirmity, he is perhaps unequalled; and he has been able to give such a relief to the perspective, such a reality to the coloring, that the deception, at a first glance, is often irresistible. Indeed, my memory became so strongly impressed with some of his pieces, that I can still call them up at will in all their excellence. Espanioleto was, however, a gloomy painter, giving to his works the sad coloring which he borrowed from the religion of his day, a religion which was fond of calling up reflections of despondency, and thinking only of Christ as the bleeding and the crucified.

"Another great painter, who, like Espanioleto, flourished at the beginning of the seventeenth century, was Diego Velasquez. Velasquez is sometimes an imitator of his great cotemporary; at others, his style is materially different, and he is generally allowed to be superior to Espanioleto in correctness of style and fertility of invention. His portraits, for furnishing accurate representations of individuals, are perhaps superior to those of Titian and Vandyke. They are not, indeed, highly wrought, but have about them the strong strokes of a master.

"Bartholomew Murillo, who, like Velasquez, was born in Seville, studied at Madrid under the direction of his countryman, and never travelled out of Spain. There is in his manner all the correctness of Velasquez; all his truth to nature, which he seems to have studied thoroughly, and at the same time a more perfect finish, and a warmth and brilliancy of coloring to which his pencil was a stranger. Nothing indeed can be so true and palpable as Murillo's scenes of familiar life, nothing so sweet and heavenly as the features and expression of his Virgins. Murillo brought the school of Seville, or more properly of Spain, to the height of its glory. He seems to have combined the excellences of Vandyke and Titian, the truth of the one, and the warm carnation of the other; and though Raphael be looked on by painters and connoisseurs as the most perfect of known artists, yet if the chief excellence of the imitative art consists in showing nature, not as it ought to be, but as it is, and in producing momentary deception, this excellence belongs to none so entirely as to Murillo.

"The decline of painting throughout Europe during the past century, has likewise extended itself to Spain, with, however, some honorable exceptions, such as Bayeu in the past century, and Mailla and Lopez in the present. The latter is a living artist, whose portraits are admirable." pp. 111, 112.

VOL. I.-NO. VI.

54

The author gives, on p. 130, an interesting account of the Spanish dance, the bolero, a story connected with which we shall quote, to show the danger of exposing ourselves to unnecessary temptation.

"The holy see, it appears, being incited by the solicitude of the Spanish clergy, to attempt the reformation of public morals in Spain, issued a decree forbidding the exhibition of bull-fights, and sent a Roman bull to drive all the Spanish ones out of the arena. This triumph paved the way for another. The fandango was presently attacked in form, as having a tendency to excite unchaste desires, and to promote sensuality. But as the reverend consistory of cardinals was too just to pass sentence unheard, even upon the fandango, a couple were brought before the grave assemblage to exhibit the character of their dance. The dancers made their appearance in the usual costume, took out their castanets, raised their voices, and commenced the fandango. The venerable fathers first received them with the moderate look of sages, determined to bear in patience and decide justly. When the dance began, however, they contracted their brows and looked on frowningly, as if each would conceal his own secret satisfaction. But at last nature overcame dissimulation, their hearts warmed, their countenances brightened, and, slinging their long hats and skullcaps at each other, they began to caper over the floor in vain imitation of the fandango."

After a variety of perils, (which, contrary to the custom of most travellers, do not seem to put him at all out of humor with the country) and after much apparent enjoyment, the author takes leave of Spain.

We had marked some minor errors in his classical allusions and use of language, such for instance as, 'he pacified Spain,' for pacificated; hence it is that we have so many Hercules,' instead of 'so many of the name of Hercules :' and below, he speaks of the eleven labors of Hercules; the slaughter of the Geryons being one of them;' unless he means to convey the idea that the slaughter of the Geryons made the twelve; which the construction of the sentence does not allow. p. 308. These, however, are unquestionably faults of carelessness, for the book is generally written in a good and easy style. If we had space, we would gladly spend more time upon it, but can safely recommend it to our readers, as a well written and entertaining work. We shall close with the author's concluding remarks:

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"It would seem that there is much chance of a revolution in Spain at some future day, and that when it arrives it is likely to be terrible. But when it shall have passed, with a fearful, yet regenerating hand, over this ill-fated country, removing the abused institutions and unjust privileges which have borne so long and so hardly upon her, and she shall have passed, as France has done, through the various ordeals of spurious liberty and military despotism, intelligence may have a chance to creep in, and the people may at length turn their attention to the enjoyment of life and the developement of their resources. Nature has been most kind to Spain. Her bowels teem with every valuable production, her surface is everywhere spread with fertility; a kindly sun shines forth in furtherance of the universal benignity; her almost insular situation at the extremity of Europe releases her from the dangers of aggression; and whilst the ocean opens on one hand a convenient high road to the most distant nations of the earth, the Mediterranean on the other facilitates her communications with the rich countries that enclose it. Her coasts, too, indented with finer ports than are elsewhere seen, and her waters, not deformed by those fearful storms, which cover more northern seas with wrecks and ruin; all, in connexion with her internal wealth, furnish

the happiest adaptation to commercial pursuits. Thus, whilst her native riches and fertility make trade unnecessary to Spain, her situation enables her to pursue it with unequalled advantage. Surely where God has been thus good, man will not always remain ungrateful.

"In taking leave of Spain, may we not then indulge a hope, that, though her futurity looks threatening, ominous, and full of evil forebodings, the present century may yet see her safely through the storm, and leave her, as she deserves to be, rich, respected, and happy?"

BLACK BARBARY.

THE eastern gray is blending fast
With orange on the mountain height,
The misty clouds are hurrying past,
The stars are melting in the light:
I feel the air's delicious glow
Revive my heart and bathe my brow;
The morning's unbought joys for me!-
I'll saddle soon black Barbary.

My beauteous mare! whose bounding speed
Has never fail'd my utmost need ;-
Her tossing head and glancing eye
Own that she knows her master nigh.
With golden grain her crib I'll fill,
And water from the clearest rill,-
And then the far blue hills shall see
A gallant race, fleet Barbary!

Her graceful limbs and glossy hide,
Without a speck to mar its pride,—
Her silken tail of raven black,
That streams behind our hurried track,
Prouder than even Pacha bore,
'Mid charging hosts, his ranks before ;-
Her stamping foot,-how wild and free,—
How dear thou art, proud Barbary!

Wert thou an Arab's desert-steed,
To share his tent and serve his need,-
His wife's delight, his kinsmen's joy,
The playmate of his prattling boy,—
Scarce might an empire's wealth obtain
One lock of all thy floating mane ;-
And art thou not as dear to me,
My gentle, playful Barbary!

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