by the starving inhabitants is in some respects very forcibly coloured, but the most curious part of the detail is the poem of lamentations composed by a noble Moor residing in the city, which Mr. S. pronounces with some confidence to be strictly genuine.

Then was there a Moor in the city who was a learned man and a wise, and he went upon the highest tower, and made a lamentation, and the words with which he lamented he put in writing, and it was rendered afterwards from the Arabic into the Castillian tongue, and the lamentation which he made was this.

Valencia! Valencia! trouble is come upon thee, and thou art in the hour of death; and if peradventure thou should'st escape, it will be a wonder to all that shall behold thee.

'But if ever God has shown mercy to any place let him, be pleased to show mercy unto thee; for thy name was joy and all Moors delighted in thee and took their pleasure in thee.

And if it should please God utterly to destroy thee now, it will be for thy great sins, and for the great presumption which thou had'st in thy pride. The four corner stones whereon thou art founded, would meet together and lament for thee if they could!

Thy strong wall which is founded upon these four stones trem bles, and is about to fall, and hath lost all its strength.

Thy lofty and fair towers which were seen from far, and rejoiced the hearts of the people, little by little they are falling.

Thy white battlements which glittered afar off, have lost their truth, with which they shone like the sun-beams.

Thy noble river Guadalaver, with all the other waters with which thou hast been served so well, have left their channel, and now they run where they should not.

Thy water-courses, which were so clear and of such great profit to so many, for lack of cleansing are choked with mud.

'Thy pleasant gardens which were round about thee, the ravenous wolf hath gnawn at the roots, and the trees can yield thee no fruit.

Thy goodly fields with so many and such fair flowers, wherein thy people were wont to take their pastime, are all dried up.

Thy noble harbour, which was so great honour to thee, is deprived of all the nobleness which was wont to come into it for thy sake.

The fire hath laid waste the lands of which thou wer't called mistress, and the great smoke thereof reacheth thee.

There is no medicine for thy sore infirmity, and the physicians despair of healing thee.

Valencia! Valencia! from a broken heart have I uttered all these things which I have said of thee.

And this grief would I keep unto myself that none should know it, if it were not necdful that it should be known to all.'

We would willingly quote, besides the story of how the Cid made Martin Pelaez, of a coward a good knight;" because it redounds most highly to the credit of the Cid's patient and generous disposition, and of his knowledge of human nature. This Martin Pelaez, a man of excellent principles but constitutionally prone to fear, was by the prudent and mild management of the Cid, effectually cured of his only fault, and became, afterwards one of the most active, as well as most zealous, companions of his exploits.

In the Cid's conduct after the surrender of Valencia, we are presented with the reverse of this delightful picture, in another instance of treachery and regardlessness of promises. Among all the strange inconsistences of human nature one of the most striking is this very peculiarity in the Spanish character, which, in various passages of history, seems to be marked at the same time with a most romantic sense of honour, and with the most flagrant breach of it, in, the violation of solemn treaties. How often do these instances occur, in the eventful story of the revolution in Holland, and in that of the conquest of South America! The convention which followed the battle of Baylen is, we fear, only a more recent example of the same remarkable contradiction; and, as moralists, we still feel ourselves obliged to condemn the violation of that treaty even at the moment that we join with the most heartfelt enthusiasm in praising the heroic exertions by which it was preceded. How happy should the spirit of patriotism (which, we hope, still lives, though repressed, not extinguished, in the minds of the Spaniards), blaze out afresh in the person of some second Cid, even though the flame were partially obscured by errors and faculties, from which the highest degree of human perfection can never be totally exempt.

The martial bishop of Saint, Andero may be supposed to have formed himself on the model of Don Hieronymo, "he of the shaven crown," who came from the regions of the east, and on account of his good qualities was promoted by the Cid to the bishopric of his newly acquired dominion. These qualities are thus enumerated. He was a full learned man and a wise, and one who was mighty both on horseback and a'foot: and he came enquiring for the Cid, wishing that he might see himself with the Moors in the field, for if he could once have his fill of smiting and slaying them, Christians should never lament him." ***" God! how joyiul was all Christendom that there was a lord bishop in the land of Valencia !"

There follows a most interesting account of the message

sent by the Cid to his wife and daughters to inform them of his good fortune, and of the journey undertaken by them to Valencia and re-union to their husband and father. Having quoted the affecting incidents of their separation, we can hardly allow ourselves to pass over those of the meeting; but it is absolutely necessary for us to put some restraint on our inclinations. On this account we also most unwillingly hasten over the interesting particulars recorded of an invasion by the Moors, and, among the rest, the animated description of the fears entertained by Donna Ximena and her daughters, who witnessed the whole fortune of the day from one of the highest towers in Valencia, the gallant and chivalrous exploits of Alvar Salvadores, performed in sight, and for the honour of the ladies, the no less noble actions of the good bishop of Hieronymo, with many others in the highest degree picturesque or characteristic.

The second return of Ruy Diaz to the court of Castile and his reconciliation with Alfonso, are detailed with no less minuteness, and furnish food for a number of most entertaining and useful observations. In the meeting of the king and his great subject, we recognise the true features of Spanish loyalty, a quality which we are not to despise on account of the servile appearance which it presents to the imagination of an Englishman; because it is only the force of education and habit that makes the difference between us, in which we so vaingloriously pride ourselves; and, be the motives for great and generous exertions what we please, still those exertions are not more or less deservedly the objects of our admiration and applause. It is under this view that, with the most exalted reverence for true independence of character, we can hardly express, in terms strong enough for our feelings, our decided reprobation of the sentiments expressed by some of our countrymen that the present cause of Spain is unworthy of the exertions to which it has given birth, or the in'ference which would naturally arise from them that a French regeneration is preferable to the re-establishment of the ancient system. The defects of that system will cure themselves in proportion to the slow, but certain progression of knowledge among mankind. But national independence, once lost, can never be regained. Let Ferdinand, or the pope, or the inquisition, be the nominal cause, still it is for every-thing that is held valuable under the names of country, Jaws and liberty, that the Spaniards actually conteud; and if they are at last compelled to kiss the feet of a conqueror, the abolition of feudal rights or of royal imposts, the dimiuation of the church revenues, or the annihilation of that

formidable bug-bear, inquisition, will only gild, and gild very superficially, the strong and indissoluble chain with which he binds them. The first and greatest of national evils is foreign subjugation. Avert that most dreadful plague and trust to the revolutions of time, the progressive nature of the human understanding, and the ultimate preponderance of good and honest feeling, for the improvement of the independence which is preserved to you!

We are now arrived at the most romantic part of this romantic history, the marriage of the Cid's daughters with the Infants of Carrion. These ungentlemanly gentlemen were connected in blood with the royal house of Castile, and were possessors of lands which we know better at present as the scene of a skirmish between our English cavalry and Marshall Soult's advanced guard.

These cowardly scoundrels, seeing the high regard in which the Cid was held at court after his return, seem to have conceived that they could not pay their own court to the king more successfully than by entreating his interest

with the favourite bero for an alliance with Doña Elvira and 'Doña Sol. It does not appear that the Cid contemplated their proposal with very high satisfaction, or looked on his daughters' suitors with eyes of affection; but to his loyal soul the least intimation of his sovereign's desire is a law: accordingly the writings are soon settled, the marriages completed; and the whole family, having staid with the king as long as decency and duty seemed to demand, accompany the champion of Bivar back to his lordship of Valencia.

After their arrival at this place,various circumstances happenwhich tend too amply to justify the Cid's unwillingness towards the proposed alliance, but for the detail of which it is necessary that we should refer our readers to chapters 2 and 4 of the 8th book, viz. "Of the cowardice shewn by the infantes of Carrion when the lion broke loose ;" and "how the infantes were afraid when they beheld the great power of the Moors."

On these unhappy occasions, the cool and noble forbearance exemplified by the Cid on a former occasion towards Martin Pelaez, did not forsake him every opportunity of redeeming their character and of saving the fragments of their reputation was amply afforded the dastards; but they (as is the vice of weak minds) counting every indulgence which they did not expect for a debt which they could not pay, chose rather to attribute their own disgraces to a combination of circumstances designed for their mortification, and seek to hide from themselves the sense of their own CRIT. REV. Vol. 16. February, 1809. M

baseness in a most base determination to revenge themselves upon their benefactor for fantastic injuries.

In execution of this most infamous plan, they ask the Cid's permission to depart, and take with them their brides for the purpose of shewing them the inheritance designed for their children in the land of Carrion, The Cid, pursuing his open and generous plan of conduct, betrays no mark of unwillingness, and dismisses them with an handsome retinue and his good swords Colada and Tisona (one won from Ramon Berenguer, the other from a Moorish king, both in personal conflict) as pledges of his confidence and affection. Passing through the wilderness of Corpes, the two villains contrive to disengage themselves from their suite, and decoying their wives into the most unfrequented recesses of a forest, strip them naked, beat them with their horse-furniture and spurs till the blood streams abundantly from their tender bodies, and then leave them without any signs of life. Felez Munios, one of the retinue and a relation of the Cid's, suspecting foul play,lingers behind and discovers the wretched ladies in their so hard plight. His timely attentions restore them to life, and bring them at last safe back to Valencia. It may be easily supposed how the Cid was transported with rage at so foul an indignity. He represents the case to king Alfonso who, for once, determines to act with justice, and assembles the Cortes to try the fact alleged against the unknightly Infants. The traitors, being summoned, make their appearance, supported by their rogue of an uncle, Suero Gonzales, and with unparalleled impudence confront their accuser.

The ceremonies and proceedings of this august assembly are detailed in the Chronicle itself with a most entertaining minuteness. Among other circumstances we must notice the extraordinary fondness of the Cid for his beard, which was the longest and most remarkable in Christendom,and was always kept delicately combed and tied up with ribbands to the grievous annoyance and dismay of the unbelieving Moors; and next to that, his partiality to a certain ivory chair, which had been sent biui as a present by some great eastern monarch, and which king Alfonso, in honour to him, caused to be brought from Valencia and set by the side of the royal throne in the great hall of audience. The events which follow are most entertaining, as related in the text; but we prefer, for the sake of variety, to give some specimens of them from the appendix, containing metrical translation & from the Poema del Cid. Mr. Southey confesses his obligations to a friend for these fragments, and we entirely coin