operation is not executed by incision, but merely by squeezing the scrotum until the spermatic vessels are twisted and decayed. In April, the time comes for their return to the Montana, which the flock expresses with great eagerness, and shows by various movements and restlessness; for which reasons the shepherds must be very watchful, lest they make their escape, whole flocks having sometimes strayed two or three leagues while the shepherd was asleep; and on these Occasions they generally take the straightest road back to the place whence they came. On the first of May they begin to shear, unless the weather is unfavourable; for the fleeces being usually piled one above the other, would ferment in case of dampness and rot; to avoid which injury, the sheep are kept in covered places, in order to shear them the more conveniently: for this purpose they have buildings that will hold 20,000 sheep at one and the same time; which is the more necessary, as the ewes are so very delicate, that if, immediately after shearing, they were exposed to the chilling air of the night, they would most certainly perish. One hundred and fifty men are employed to shear 1000 sheep: each man is computed to shear eight per day; but if rams, only five: not merely on account of their bulk, and the greater quantity of wool on them, but from their extreme fickleness of temper and the great difficulty to keep them quiet; the ram being so exasperated, that he is ready to strangle himself when he finds that he is tied fast. To prevent his hurting himsef, they endeavour, by fair means and caresses, to keep him in temper; and with much soothing, and having ewes placed near him so that he can plainly see them, they at last engage him to stand quiet, and voluntarily suffer them to proceed and shear him. On the shearing day, the ewes are shut up in a large court, and thence conducted into a sudatory, which is a narrow place constructed for the purpose, where they are kept as close as possible, to make them perspire freely, in order to soften their wool and make it yield with more ease to the shears. This management is peculiarly useful with respect to the ram, whose wool is more stubborn and more difficult to be cut. The fleece is divided into three sorts and qualities : The back and belly produce superfine wool. The neck and sides produce fine wool. The breast, shoulders, and thighs, produce the coarse wool. The sheep are then brought into another place and marked; those sheep which are without teeth being destined for the slaughter-house, and the healthy sheep are led out to feed and graze, if the weather permit; if not, they are kept within doors until they are gradually accustomed to the open air. When they are permitted to graze quietly, without being hurried or disturbed, they select and prefer the finest grass, never touching the aromatic plants, although they may find them in great plenty; and in case the wild thyme is entangled with the grass, they separate it with great dexterity, moving on eagerly to such spots as they find to be without it. When the shepherd thinks there is a likelihood of rain, he makes proper signals to the dogs to collect the flock and lead them to a place of shelter; on these occasions the sheep (not having time given them to choose their pasture) pick up every herb indiscriminately were they in feeding, to give a preference to aromatic plants, it would be a great misfortune to the owners of beehives, as they would destroy the food of the bees, and occasion a decrease and disappointment in the honey and in the crops. The sheep are never suffered to move out of their folds until the beams of the sun have exhaled and evaporated the night-dews; nor do the shepherds suffer them to drink out of brooks, or out of standing waters, wherein hail has fallen, experience having taught them, that on such occasions they are in danger of losing them all. The wool of Andalusia is coarse, because the sheep never change their place, as is practised by the Merino flocks, whose wool would likewise degenerate if they were always kept on the same spot; and the wool of Audalusia would improve in quality, were their sheep accustomed to emigrate as the Merino sheep do. Between 60 and 70,000 bags of washed wool are exported annually out of Spain. A bag generally weighs eight Spanish arrobas, of 25 Spanish pounds each arroba, which are equal so 214 English pounds. Upwards of 30,000 bags of Spanish wool are sent annually to London and to Bristol, which are worth 351. to 50l. each bag; so that England purchases and manufactures into goods, about one-half the quantity of this produce of Spanish wool, and her imports in general are of the best and of the finest quality. This wool when warehoused in England, is worth from 3s. per pound to 68. 9d. per pound, ready money; and from 451. to 551. per bag. The wool of Paular, which is the largest fleeces, though not the best in quality, is reserved for the royal manufactures which belong to the king of Spain. The common dresses, as well as the shooting dresses of the royal family of Spain, and the dresses of their attendants, are made of the cloth of Segovia, which is an ancient populous city in Old Castile, where the best woolen cloths made in Spain are all manufactured, The crown of Spain receives annually, by all the duties, when added together, paid on wool exported,upwards of sixty millions of reales de vellon, which are equal to 600,000l. sterling (English money). Statement of Spanish wool imported into London and into Bristol during the years 1804, 1805, 1806, 1807, averaging the year from September to September in each respective year: Imported into London-from September, 1804 to September 1805, Bags. 12,372 23,954 To those readers whose knowledge of the French language does not extend to the import of the title which I have prefixed to my lucubrations, I shall merely state, that its meaning is very nearly the same as that of our coarse term "an ordinary," a table prepared in hotels, for guests assembled indiscriminately. In some of the hotels in the European capitals, which are conducted on a grand scale, persons sometimes sit down together from each of the quarters of the globe, and often from twenty or thirty different nations. For such a variety of tastes, as the cravings of appetite assemble thus together, it is obviously necessary to make a most diversified provision. I regard The Port Folio as the hotel-the Editor as the Monsieur Dessein-and the different departments of literature as les chambres garnies, for each description of readers. To my table d'hote, I invite the attention of such of these different descriptions as may be fond of light literary food; and shall attempt to compensate for any deficiency in point of importance or solidity in the fare I shall offer, by the variety of my dishes. As soon as the maitre d'hotel finds my entertainment begins to cloy his customers, I request he will give me due notice, and I shall then close the scene, make my bow, and retire. Horace. THERE is hardly an author of Greece or Rome, whose opinions are more generally correct, than those of Horace-none, of the poets at least, who furnishes more sound and just maxims for the regulation of human life. But notwithstanding this general soundness of opinion, there are errors, and some of them of considerable magnitude, to be found in his writings. Among those errors, I have always regarded the opinion intended to be conveyed in the following lines: Fortes creantur fortibus. Et bonis Which Francis renders thus: "The brave and good are copies of their kind. In steers laborious, and in generous steeds We trace their sires. Nor can the bird of Jove, Horace here intimates that illustrious sons may as surely be expected from illustrious sires, as that the "fierce, intrepid" eagle shall not produce the "unwarlike dove," or that the "generous steed" shall perpetuate an equally "generous race." At the first glance the philosophy of this appears somewhat plausible. But it will not stand the test of even a moderate degree of examination. To its unsoundness the aching hearts of many parents, who contemplate the degeneracy of their children, bear ample testimony. Let us look through the world, and we shall immediately see numberless instances, in full proof, that neither the virtues of the parental head or heart are entailed upon the children. There is hardly a street in our cities that does not evince this truth, and furnish instances which the reader will recollect, and which it would be invidious to enumerate. History is full of similar cases. The cruel, the dastardly, the narrow-minded Philip II, was son of the daring, the courageous, the aspiring Charles V, the arbiter of the fate of Europe. The mild, the unaspiring, the estimable Richard Cromwell had not a single trait of the character of his hypocritical, enthusiastic, and ambitious father, Oliver. And not to swell the subject too far, who would ever recognize any affinity between the awkward, the unpolished, the mediocre Stanhope, and the dissembling, refined, and enlightened Chesterfield? Junius. "Curs'd be the verse, how smooth soe'er it flow, That tends to make one honest man my foe." WITH the fame of Junius the world has resounded. This fame, acquired in a period of turbulence and faction, still gives currency, after a lapse of forty years, to a work, the basis of which is a malignity of the most detestable kind—a work the objects and topics whereof have, with few exceptions, ceased to interest mankind. After the lapse of time which I have mentioned, Junius is still unknown. Respecting no writer whatever has public curiosity ever been more highly excited. The most unceasing and laboured efforts have been made to discover him. All have been totally ineffectual. He still eludes, and, for a reason which I shall suggest, will probably forever elude, the utmost endeavours of the curious. Numbers of persons, probably twenty at least, have been at different times named as the author. Those who have brought forward Single Speech Hamilton, Lord Sackville, Boyd, Lord Chatham, &c. &c. as the writers of Junius, have, in support of their respective hypotheses, adduced various secret anecdotes, and mysterious circumstances, some of them sufficiently plausible to acquire credit for a time. Each tale has had its day and its partisans, but finally sunk with the others into one common cave of oblivion. The uncertainty is at this moment no less than when the officers of justice beset Woodfall's doors in quest of the author or publisher. Surprise has been expressed at this concealment. It has been regarded as wonderful, that "the love of Fame," which, according to Young, is "the universal passion," has not induced the writer to come forward, and claim the laurels that have so long courted his acceptance, Junius has been regarded as a most marked exception to the position of the author of the Night Thoughts. This idea is incorrect. Junius appears to have had a much more accurate idea of the intrinsic merits of his productions than his cotemporaries generally. He well knew, what must be obvious to every person who reads these celebrated letters with impartiality, and free from the bias of prejudice-He well knew, I say, that their chief, almost their only merit, consists in a style most elaborately refined and elegant; and that whatever laurels he might acquire for his |