have been deeply afflictive to me, and to those with whom Nature, and a peculiar domestic education, had united me by the most endearing and grateful ties." Two reasons are afterwards assigned for inscribing the Work to the gal lant military Peer.

"One was, that many of the facts I had introduced into them were not unknown to your Lordship; and the other was, that the manuscript had had the good fortune to meet with less equivocal approbation, from a man of too much known judgment to be deceived, and of too much acknowledged virtue to deceive. In saying this, my Lord, I will not conceal that the approbation was accompanied with a wish, that I had thrown the subject into the form of a journal, or general observations, rather than into that of a romance. I was willing to be corrected, and from such a judge as I allude to, what unpractised candidate would not be proud of the correction? But if I could have changed the form of my composition, my object itself must also have been changed. I had neither History, nor the materials of History in view: sketches and portraits were my aim, which was as distant from the flight of sublime poetry on the one hand, as from the majestic simplicity of historical narrative and profound remark on the other. My encourager is himself engaged in an undertaking of the latter kind relative to the Peninsula, a species of composition in which he is acknowledged to have few rivals: but for me, who only mean at most to offer some interesting pictures taken on the spot, I thought I could not do better than embody them in a whole, by the use of a fictitious character, whom I could place in situations, and to whom I could give sentiments, more likely to produce the effect I intended, than if I wrote in my own person."

Ramirez," a poem by the same Author, has been duly noticed this Year in Part I. p. 243.

The scene of the present Work commences in Cadiz, at the period when nearly the whole of Spain had been overrun by the unprovoked inroads of the French; and Cadiz, the only strong-hold of the loyal Spaniards, was closely blockaded. At that eventful period, however, dissipation appears to have been the order of the day, or rather of the night-when the Neverias and Tertulias were crowded to excess.

"Neverias are public-houses, where refreshments of all kinds are sold. They GENT. MAG. July, 1818.

derive their name from being the places generally resorted to for taking ices. Almost all the houses in the South of Spain are built with a large square open space in the middle, which is called the patio; this, in the neverias, is frequently

covered at the commencement of the first story of the house with trellis-work, upon which are trained vines, the leaves of which afford a more agreeable shade than the canvass awning which is stretched over the patio at the top of the house in private houses."

"To prevent the ill-effects arising from the use of ice, when the blood is in a heated state, the masters of the neverias in Cadiz, and I believe in all the larger towns in the South of Spain, are forbidden to sell it until after eight o'clock in the evening. This prohibition would appear unnecessary as unfounded, from the custom of Italy, not disregarded in England, of serving ice after dancing. Agraz is a very agreeable and refreshing drink, made of the juice of unripe grapes."

A Tertulia is an assemblage of people met together to amuse themselves in the manner most agreeable to their tastes; whether by cards, musick, conversation, or dancing. These assemblies are divested of formality; but, in other respects, differ little from the general meetings of company, call them what you will. There the common topics of conversation are nightly exhausted; the state of Empires is discussed, Kings are dethroned, Ministers dismissed, battles fought, captives made, characters liberally dealt with, present enemies extolled, absent friends calumniated. A tertulia is a concentrated picture of fashionable society, where the minor shades of character obscure the lustre of good qualities, and where, for the sake of appearing agreeable, one often renders oneself really unworthy. Industrious to conceal real virtue, if the opposite vice happen to be of a fashionable nature, good sense is often sacrificed in these tertulias at the shrine of folly, and truth lost in the labyrinth, where it is entangled by ridicule. The passion for ridicule is the most general amongst the society which forms the Spanish tertulia; and such is the devotion to it, that sense, feeling, and delicacy, are continually outraged in the gratificat cation of the prevailing propensity.-The arrangement of the company who form the tertulia is as devoid of etiquette as their manners and conversation: the ladies generally sit in lines or circles, and are not a little loquacious; but if a momentary pause should ensue, a general crack of fans dispels the hated silence,

and

and gives a signal for new topicks. The men stand in groups, or walk about the apartment, excepting some decided curutacos, or ladies' men, and such as are only in the earlier stages of attendance upon the glance of a peculiar Dona. These lean upon the chairs of the ladies, are sometimes seated by them, and are armed with the fan of their favourites, in the twirling and flirting of which they generally display a feminine dexterity. Let not the possession of this accomplishment excite contempt: for it is highly necessary for a young man in Spanish society, to understand the hidden meaning of the different movements of this organ of female wit; by the use of which the Spanish lady expresses the passions which agitate her mind, whether jealousy, resentment, or pleasure; and by which she encourages or repels the too timid or too enterprising lover; and from the knowledge of their meaning, to the power of expressing it, is but a step. The greater part of the society are generally engaged at banco, or some other fashionable game. The ladies occupy the greater number of seats round the table; and the gentlemen either risk their money on the fortune of some chosen one, or follow their own fortunes from behind."

Under the character of a young and well-educated Spanish Cavalier, Mr. Dallas (without incurring the unpleasant imputation of egotism) describes many interesting circumstances which fell within his own observation, and has given on the whole a lively exhibition of Spanish manners, and more especially of the Spanish ladies, whose natural gaiety is no longer restrained by the terrors of an antiquated Duenna, or the more violent caprices of a jealous husband.

A promenade on the Alameda at Cadiz is thus noticed :

"It was not one of those crowds that sometimes press themselves into its avenues during the carnival, or on the great fêtes when all the world seem as if desirous to ascertain how many people they could hold, or to wish to form an idea of the power of compressibility of their own bodies: it was a moderate crowd, where

there was room in the interstices of the ranks to admit the Boca boys, who, with their baskets on their arms, wormed themselves between the people, announcing their approach by a repetition of the shrill cry, Boca fresca de la Isla* ;' and where the as active fire-boys with less difficulty made their way, affording an opportunity of resuming their usual occupation of smoking to those gentlemen whom an exhausted segar had obliged to relinquish it, recommending their commodity by the frequent cries of good fire;' excellent fire;' 'the best fire;' and occasionally striking their matches of combustible rope against the ground, producing a shower of sparks.

་

"The sun had been some time apparently enlarging the circumference of his orb; his brilliant disk had gradually received its evening tinge of red; and now his last ray darted upward from the refulgent bosom of the ocean, streaking with gold the expanded edge that veiled his face. It was the signal for the Oraciones, or evening prayer, which being repeated by the tolling of the bell of every church, the whole city, the whole kingdom, addressed a prayer and a thanksgiving to the Almighty Being who had brought the day to a close. The crowd upon the Alameda, whose busy hum and footsteps mingled their bruit upon the ear like the fall of waters where the course of a gentle streamlet is broken by some impeding rock, now stood still, and there prevailed, as if by magic, a sudden, profound, and awful silence. At the sound of the bell the carriages stopped; all who were sitting arose; those who were walking remained in the position in which this moment overtook them; all conversation was suspended, and every one repeated an inward prayer. The sign of the cross, which closed the prayer of each, was the signal for the breaking of this holy silence; every one gave a salutation to those who surrounded him, known or unknown, and then the stream flowed on unaltered in its

course.

"There is nothing with which a foreigner, unacquainted with the religious customs of Spain, is so struck as the Oraciones, or prayer at sunset, which is above described. The reflection, that at that same moment, or rather in an un

Fresh

broken

broken succession of moments, there is a general suspension of all work and conversation, and that a national act of adoration in silence takes place throughout the whole kingdom, renders it truly awful and imposing."

Interspersed throughout the volumes are many genuine and heartrending anecdotes of the more than savage brutality of the French troops interwoven with gratifying details of the consummate skill and personal bravery of our heroic Military Commanders, more particularly Wellington and Graham, and of the conduct and unshaken attachment of the British Army, from the memorable victory on the heights of Barossa in March 1811, to the decisive battle of Vittoria, the defeat of Soult in the Pyrenees, and the storming and capture of St. Sebastian, all which were achieved in August 1813.

and finding no interruption, nor seeing any person near the place, my curiosity led me to take a nearer view of them. I therefore dismounted in the great road, fastened my horse to a laurel hedge, walked through a path which led to the lawn, where I saw through the paling four Ostriches, birds which I had never seen before, a cock, and three hens, and at the very instant I was looking at, and admiring them, an amorous intercourse took place, a sight which I imagined few people had ever seen. Having satisfied my curiosity, I mounted my horse, rode on to Eton, and joined my young friends. On my telling them of what I had seen, I found that it was nothing rare, and they had all witnessed the same. spent a pleasant evening together, talking of the various amusements most in Vogue at that season, such as fishing, cricket-playing, and other boyish sports, until the College bell gave us notice to separate and depart.

We

9. A Second Edition of the Anecdotes and History of Cranbourn Chase. By William Chafin, Clerk. With Additions, and a Continuation of the said History to some Extent. To which are added, some Scenes in, and Anecdotes of Windsor Forest; by the same Author. 8vo, pp. 103. Nichols, Son, & Bentley.

IT is delightful to see these pleasant effusions of a green old age. Of Mr. Chafin some entertaining anecdotes have been given, by himself, in the first part of this year's volume, p. 10. The present Work is enriched by some lively reminiscences; one of which shall be here extracted:

"In the year 1751, when Henry William Portman, Esq. the father of the present Member for the County of Dorset, was a young gentleman at Eton School, being much interested in his welfare, I made a point of calling upon him annually during his stay there, and spending an evening with him, and some of his school-fellows, at the Christopher Inn. On my way to Cambridge at the time of the Commencement, and about the latter end of June that year, I began my journey as usual, and having dined at Bagshot, took the cool of the evening, for the weather was very hot, and travelled slowly over Ascot-heath, and through the Forest, until I came in view of the Grand Lodge, in the front of which, within a lofty paling, I observed some very large birds playing and enjoying themselves in the declining sun-beams;

we

were

course, dined at Bagshot in the evening, passed over the Heath and Forest as before; but when I came in sight of the Duke's Lodge I was greatly disappointed, for the pales were all removed, and no vestige of the birds remaining. I therefore pursued my way on the broad road leading to Windsor, and had not advanced far, before I perceived a person in the royal livery with some dogs following him coming towards me: we soon met and accosted each other; it was Mr. Ives, the Duke's chief huntsman, and sole manager and director of the sporting department; known to each other, for Mr. Ives was a very intimate friend of my brother's. In conversing together, I mentioned to him my journey of the last year, and the disappointment I now met with, in not seeing the Ostriches, but I hoped they were alive, and well. He then informed me, that one of the hens died soon after the time when I saw them, and her death was attributed to the want of a more extensive range, and a freer circulation of air; that they were therefore removed to a much more spacious enclosure near to the Palace, where the three were perfectly healthy and well. On my mentioning to him what I had the summer before seen, and asking him if he knew the result, he informed me, that the three bens had laid one egg each, and that the Duke had been in hopes that he should have a breed from them. And that the most experienced persons in Ornithology had been consulted and advised with, respecting the most proper means and methods to accomplish such a desi

increased without exceeding the middle height. Her carriage and deportment were quiet, yet graceful. Her features were separatelygood. Their assemblage produced an unrivalled expression of that cheerfulness, sensibility, and benevolence, which were her real characteristics. Her com

plexion was of the finest texture. It might with truth be said, that her eloquent blood spoke through her modest cheek. Her voice was extremely sweet. She delivered herself with fluency and precision. Indeed she was formed for elegant and rational society, excelling in conversation as much as in composition. In the present age it is hazardous to mention accomplishments. Our authoress would, probably, have been inferior to few in such acquirements, had she not been so superior to most in higher things. She had not only an excellent taste for drawing, but, in her earlier days, evinced great power of hand in the management of the pencil. Her own musical attainments she held very cheap. Twenty years ago they would have been thought more of, and twenty years hence many a parent will expect their daughters to be applauded for meaner performances. She was fond of dancing, and excelled in it."

The two Novels now published have no connexion with each other.

The characters in both are principally

taken from the middle ranks of life, and are well supported. Northanger Abbey, however, is decidedly preferable to the second Novel, not only in the incidents, but even in its moral tendency.

11. Attributes of Satan. Hatchard. THIS is the anonymous performance of some very able writer, a master in flexibility of mind and command of language. He is sometimes serious, sometimes ironical, and evidently well - intentioned (though on that point we shall have somewhat to say hereafter) as well as plainly a man of most benevolent sentiments. The desultory Reader will find it an amusing essay; and the philosopher will see in it how the diffusion of science is operating upon Religion, not, as before the French Revolution, to calumniate and destroy, but to light it up with gas, in splendid exhibition.

This Work is not likely to fall into the hands of ignorance, and so to create abuse; for there we much fear it would be sadly misconstrued. We have read much upon the Devil; sense

and nonsense. We have presumed that this Author is well-intentioned, as endeavouring to produce strength of mind by removing fears and follies; but we think the subject, as he has lightly treated it, one which may Infidelity: and therefore, in a future be artfully warped to the support of edition, some serious Scriptural quotations, properly explained, should be, in our opinion, judiciously added.

There seem to be some leading prepossessions and omissions, tending to error, common upon the subject of the fallen Angel. The chief is, that there are two distinct principles of good and evil, God and the Devil. This is impossible; the latter being created and dependent, allowed, as our Author very properly observes, (p. 23. seq.) to do evil, that God may produce good from it. The old Commentators on the Lord's Prayer observe, that when we pray "deliver us from evil," by evil is meant Пovnpos, or the Devil: nor does Scripture admit moral evil to have any other authors, except abuses of the passions. These old Commentators say, that in the above petition the mind, infidelity, self-sufficiency, we deprecate the abstract vices of let's weak wife with her "Sir, We beresy, Gibbonism, Voltaireism, MalDeists," and all that farrago of happy

self-satisfaction. But the doctrine of Scripture is simple. A thing must be before it can be any thing else; and the properties of every thing whatever must exist in the primary being. Free-will was a communicated property, and placed in poise, upon a fulcrum, but capable of amoval by wrong volition. This is the meaning of the Apostles, when they say, that the Devil has no power, unless there is a previous corruption of mind. When we see a corpse, and say, that God created man, we do not mean, that he created him a putrid carcase; only that he permits him under circumstances to become so. God did not create evil, purposely and intentionally; he only permitted evil to result. The Devil, therefore, is a deteriorated superior being, through erroneous volition, and permitted to exist in such deteriorated state. to the question (says our Author) why Angels of the first order, dwelling in the beatifying presence of their Maker, should have apostatized, we

Therefore

"As

are