His reply was: " clearly because it is now considered the seat of honour. The old Hudibrastic notion is exploded-at least if that noble quality dwells before, beyond a doubt, its head-quarters are the nose-pull it, even with the most circumspect gentleness, and how incurable the insult. Now it being of the essence of honour, to be as alive to benefits as it is sensitive to outrage, hence its visible dwelling-place has been made the subject of all these costly gifts, precisely on the principle of the Pagan offerings of old, at the shrine of some high-minded but irritable divinity."

The writer whom I am refuting, expresses extraordinary wonder at the continuing prevalence of snuff-taking. I recommend to his consideration two facts: First, it is equally a luxury of the rich and the poor, and almost the only luxury which the rich have not discarded, because the poor can afford to enjoy it. I put it to his candour, whether there be not here some proof, "that there must be a pleasure in snuff-taking, which snuff-takers only know."Secondly, it has ever been a favourite custom with men the most distinguished for genius in every department of intellect: I have already named a few, Sir Joshua, Frederick of Prussia, Napoleon, and Mr. Vansittart; and it is generally considered, that without some such help the minds of those eminent persons, however naturally elevated, could not have risen so high, or soared so long. I might multiply examples without number. In my own poor way, I have found what an aid it is to inspiration. A celebrated Irish writer of the present day, being asked, where he had got one of his most brilliant fancies, replied with equal truth and candour, "where I got all the rest, in Lundy Foot's shop ;" and (to give one more contemporary instance) the frequenters of the Italian Opera cannot fail to observe, that the admirable leader of the band there, no sooner perceives a difficult Obligato coming upon him, than he invariably prepares his mind by a hasty pinch for that exquisite conception of his subject, which his tones and execution never fail to communicate.

But to go an inch or two deeper into the subject: when a man takes a pinch of snuff, he exemplifies one of the most remarkable principles of human nature-the love of excitation. Nature has given our blood and thoughts a certain rapidity of movement, but we find it more agreeable to set them going a little faster, or (the more usual case,) we jade them by excessive exercise, and must have recourse to artificial stimulants to restore their vigour-else we are the victims of ennui, Anglice, the blue devils. We become harsh and testy; we torment our families, distrust our friends. If we are rich enough to travel, we fly from place to place, "seeking comfort and finding none." If we are poets, we write sonnets against the human race, magnanimously including ourselves. If the wars are raging, we long for the tumult of the camp; we somehow feel that cutting-off the heads of half a dozen Frenchmen,

would prove a great relief. If it be time of peace, we stay at home and pine away; and unless some real calamity should fortunately step in to divert our thoughts, the chance is, that we call in the razor or the pistol to terminate the scene. This is an extreme

case, though not an imaginary one, as every coroner can tell; but the intermediate degrees are felt more or less by all, and the application of powdered tobacco to the nose, is only one of the thousand methods that have been invented to satisfy the universal craving for excitement.

Were it possible for the mind to seize at a single view the occupations of all the inhabitants of the globe, it would be somewhat curious to behold the numbers that at any given point of time, are busily and solely employed in raising their animal spirits to the agreeable point of elevation, and to compare the various artifices adopted for this purpose. Of the eight-hundred millions, the computed number of the whole, we should have so many millions smoking, so many carousing; so many millions or thousands throwing off drams; so many sipping coffee; so many masticating opium, and other exhilarating extracts; so many dancing, singing, hunting, or gambling, all to keep off the tedium vitæ. Some must have mimic scenes of bloodshed on the stage; some must see men kill one another in earnest; for others a mortal cock-fight is a sufficient stimulant. Some keep the vapours at bay by talking politics, others by talking scandal, millions by talking of themselves. Some droop if the world neglects to praise them, and of these, some prefer a full draught of adulation at stated intervals, while others, among whom are authors, actors, crowned heads, and handsome ladies, must be tippling it from morning till night. Some take to the excitement of hot suppers; others to ghost stories; others to authentic accounts of earthquakes, murders, and conflagrations. But it were endless to proceed; money-making, moneyspending; fanatical devotion; auto-de-fès; Indian torturing of prisoners; sight-seeing; last new novels; in a word, many of men's occupations and most of their amusements-what are they but the several ways of attaining the same end: and happy they who have so regulated their passions, as to require no other stimulant than a few diurnal sneezes to keep their minds in good humour with the world and themselves.

GIVEN WITH MY PICTURE TO MY BROTHER.

I bade the artist use his utmost care,

To make this image of my sister smile;

That though in woe, or sickness, thou may'st there
Ne'er trace the sorrows thou could'st ne'er beguile:

Or that when time or fate shall chill my heart,
And when in silent peace I calmly sleep,
E'en then, to thee no pain I may impart,

To swell thy breast with sighs, or bid thee weep!
July, 1821.

LETTERS FROM SPAIN.

BY DON LEUCADIO DOBLADO.

LETTER VI.

DEAR MADAM, Seville, AN unexpected event has, since my last, thrown the inhabitants of this town into raptures of joy. The bull-fights which, by a royal order, had been discontinued for several years, were lately granted to the wishes of the people. The news of the most decisive victory could not have more elated the spirits of the Andalusians, or roused them into greater activity. No time was lost in making the necessary preparations. In the course of a few weeks all was ready for the exhibition, while every heart beat high with joyful expectation of the appointed day which was to usher in the favourite amusement.

You should be told, however, that Seville is acknowledged, on all hands, to have carried these fights to perfection. To her school of bullmanship that art owes all its refinements. Bull-fighting is considered by many of our young men of fashion a high and becoming accomplishment; and mimicking the scenes of the amphitheatre forms the chief amusement among boys of all ranks in Andalusia. The boy who personates the most important character of the drama-the bull -is furnished with a large piece of board, armed in front with the natural weapons of the animal, and having handles fastened to the lower surface. By the last the boy keeps the machine steady on the top of the head, and with the former he unmercifully pushes such of his antagonists as are not dexterous enough to evade, or sufficiently swift to escape him. The fighters have small darts, pointed with pins, which they endeavour to fix on a piece of cork stuck flat on the horned board, till at length the bull falls, according to rule, at the touch of a wooden sword.

Our young country-gentlemen have a substitute for the regular bullfights, much more approaching to reality. About the beginning of summer, the great breeders of black cattle-generally men of rank and fortune-send an invitation to their neighbours to be present at the trial of the yearlings, in order to select those that are to be reserved for the amphitheatre. The greatest festivity prevails at these meetings. A temporary scaffolding is raised round the walls of a very large court, for the accommodation of the ladies. The gentlemen attend on horseback, dressed in short loose jackets of silk, chintz, or dimity, the sleeves of which are not sewed to the body, but laced with broad ribbons of a suitable colour, swelling not ungracefully round the top of the shoulders. A profusion of hanging buttons, either silver or gold, mostly silver gilt, twinkle in numerous rows round the wrists of both sexes. The saddles called Albardones, to distinguish them from the peak-saddle, which is seldom used in Andalusia, rise about a foot before and behind in a triangular shape. The stirrups are iron boxes, open on both sides, and affording a complete rest the whole length of the foot. Both country-people and gentlemen riding in these saddles, use the stirrups so short, that, in defiance of all the rules of manége,

the knees and toes project from the side of the horse, and, when galloping, the rider appears to kneel on its back. A white beaver-hat, of rather more than two feet diameter, fastened under the chin by a ribbon, was till lately worn at these sports, and is still used by the horsemen at the public exhibitions; but the Montera is now prevalent. I find it difficult indeed to describe this part of the national dress without the aid of a drawing. Imagine, however, a bishop's mitre inverted, and closed on the side intended to receive the head. Conceive the two points of the mitre so shortened that, placed downwards on the skull, they should scarcely cover the ears. Such is our national cap. Like Don Quixote's head-piece, the frame is made of paste-board. Externally it is black velvet, ornamented with silk frogs and tassels of the same colour.

Each of the cavaliers holds a lance, twelve feet in length, headed with a three-edged steel point. This weapon is called Garroca, and it is used by horsemen whenever they have to contend with the bulls either in the fields or the amphitheatre. The steel, however, is sheathed by two strong leather rings, which are taken off in proportion to the strength of the bull, and the sort of wound which is intended. On the present occasion no more than half an inch of steel is uncovered. Double that length is allowed in the amphitheatre; though the spear is not intended to kill or disable the animal, but to keep him off by the painful pressure of the steel on a superficial wound. Such, however, is the violence of the bulls when attacking the horses, that I once saw the blunt spear I have described, run along the neck into the body of the beast and kill him on the spot. But this is a rare occurrence, and foul play was suspected on the part of the man, who seems to have used more steel than the lance is allowed to be armed with.

The company being assembled in and round the rural arena, the one-year-old bulls are singly let in by the herdsmen. It might be supposed, that animals so young would be frightened at the approach of the horseman couching his spear before their eyes; but our Andalusian breeders expect better things from their favourites. A young bull must attack the horseman twice, bearing the point of the spear on his neck, before he is set apart for the bloody honours of the amphitheatre. Such as flinch from the trial are instantly thrown down by the herdsmen, and prepared for the yoke, on the spot.

These scenes are often concluded with a more cruel sport, named Derribar. A strong bull is driven from the herd into the open field, where he is pursued at full gallop by the whole band of horsemen. The Spanish bull is a fleet animal, and the horses find it difficult to keep up with him at the first onset. When he begins, however, to slack in his course, the foremost spearman, couching his lance, and aiming obliquely at the lower part of the spine, above the haunches, spurs his horse to his utmost speed, and, passing the bull, inflicts a wound, which, being exceedingly painful, makes him wince, lose his balance, and come down with a tremendous fall. The shock is so violent that the bull seems unable to rise for some time. It is hardly necessary to observe, that such feats require an uncommon degree of horsemanship, and the most complete presence of mind.

Our town itself abounds in amusements of this kind, where the professional bull-fighters learn their art, and the amateurs feast their eyes, occasionally joining in the sport with the very lowest of the people. You must know, by the way, that our town corporation enjoy the privilege of being our sole and exclusive butchers. They alone have a right to kill and sell meat; which, coming through their noble hands, (for this municipal government is entailed on the first Andalusian families) is the worst and dearest in the whole kingdom. Two droves of lean cattle are brought every week to a large slaughter-house (el matadero) which stands between one of the city gates and the suburb of San Bernardo. To walk in that neighbourhood when the cattle approach is dangerous; for, notwithstanding the emaciated condition of the animals, and though many are oxen and cows, a crowd is sure to collect on the plain, and by the waving their cloaks, and a sharp whistling which they make through their fingers, they generally succeed in dispersing the drove, in order to single out the fiercest for their amusement. Nothing but the Spanish cloak is used on these occasions. Holding it gracefully at arm's length before the body, so as to conceal the person from the breast to the feet, they wave it in the eyes of the animal, shaking their heads with an air of defiance, and generally calling out Ha! Toro, Toro. The bull pauses a moment before he rushes upon the nearest object. It is said, that he shuts his eyes at the instant of pushing with his horns. The man keeping his cloak in the first direction, flings it over the head of the animal, while he glances his body to the left, just when the bull, led forward by the original impulse, must run on a few yards without being able to turn upon his adversary, whom, upon wheeling round, he finds prepared to delude him as before. This sport is exceedingly lively; and when practised by proficients, seldom attended with danger. It is called Capéo. The whole population of San Bernardo, men, women, and children, are adepts in this art. Within the walls of the slaughter-house, however, is the place where the bull-fighters by profession are allowed to improve themselves. A member of the town corporation presides, and admits, gratis, his friends; among whom, notwithstanding the filth natural to such places, ladies do not disdain to appear. The Matadero is so well known as a school for bull-fighting, that it bears the cant appellation of the College. Many of our first noblesse have frequented no other school. Fortunately, this fashion is wearing away. Yet we have often seen Viscount Miranda, the head of one of the proudest families of the proud city of Cordova, step into the public amphitheatre, and kill a bull with his own hand. This gentleman had reared up one of his favourite animals, and accustomed him to walk into his parlour, to the great consternation of the company. The bull, however, once, in a surly mood, forgot his acquired tameness, and gored one of the servants to death; in consequence of which his master was compelled to kill him.

That Spanish gentlemen fight in public with bulls, I suppose you have heard or read. But this does not regularly take place, except at the coronation of our kings, and in their presence. Such noblemen