only his Emma, and thought not of the precipice; he sprang after her with his war-horse, and plunged into the whirpool which still bears his name. There, changed into a black hound, he watches the Princess's crown, that no one may draw it from the gulph. "A diver was once induced, by large promises, to make the attempt -he plunged in, found the crown, and drew it up till the assembled crowd beheld the golden points.--Twice the burden escaped from his hands, and the people cried to him to renew the attack. He did so, and-a stream of blood tinged the pool, but the diver came up no more. "The wanderer passes through that vale with chilly horror, for clouds and darkness hang around it, and the stillness of death broods over the abyss-no bird wings its way over, and in the dead of night the hollow bellowing of the heathen dog is often heard in the distance." SNUFF-TAKING. "When they talked of their Raphaels, Corregios, and stuff, I often take a pinch myself-and though I never yet have carried a box, I know enough of the human nose and its tendency after long indulgence, to exact as a matter of right what was originally granted as a favour, to make great allowances for those who do; I can, therefore, fully sympathise in the feelings of a numerous and respectable portion of the community, who complain with some indignation, of the uncharitable attack upon their private habits in a late Number of the New Monthly. Certain epithets, altogether unworthy a civilized Journal, are there levelled at a very antient and harmless custom; and though backed by the authority of an English peer, bear unequivocal marks of that radical spirit, which, as far as a hatred of tobacco is concerned, cannot be too vehemently reprobated. But let not the writer flatter himself, that Rappee and High Toast are so easily put down. He may denounce our noses as "dust-holes" if he willbut what precious dust!-what an aider of thought-what a solamen curarum-what a helpmate of existence, Bis apwyn as Plato said of the olive!-what a soother of irritability, as Sir Joshua found it. Let this anti-nasal declaimer just step into Messrs. Fribourg and Pontets, and he'll soon see, in the formidable array of robust and well-battalioned jars, what an unequal contest he has undertaken to wage against one of the most popular usages of his country-jars containing every modification of sternulatory materials, collected from every quarter of the globe, and sanctioned, many of them, in emblazoned characters, by the highest names in Europe, from Hardham's No. 37, for rough sneezers, down to the delicate and costly Maccabau, whose essence is so subtle and per Article on Noses. vading, that, like Desdemona's charms, it makes the " senses ache" with exuberance of delight. There is Martinique, pungent, aromatic, and best after dinner; Masulapatam, its name and odour transporting the fancy to the gorgeous East; French Bureau, every grain of which gives a man a feel of business; The King of Prussia's, compounded from Frederick's receipt, expressly for heroes and statesmen ; Fine Spanish, with which Bonaparte gained all his victories; Mr. Vansittart's, usually called for by writers and readers of plans for paying off the National Debt; Violet and a-la-Rose, for noviciates and dandies-and, above all, the inimitable Lundy Foot, that master-spirit in sneezing matters, whose single genius has done more for the human nose than the combined discoveries of every preceding tobacconist or amateur, and whose name, though he now is "laid in dust," flourishes, and will flourish, as long as the world shall keep in view that cardinal maxim, to establish which his life was devoted-that snuff in its perfection should be taken dry. Nor let it be supposed, that these and the many others I might enumerate, operate solely as physical excitants; no, the imagination comes in for its full share of the enjoyment. When we take a pinch for instance, of Napoleon's favourite, (fine Spanish above-mentioned,) how soul-stirring to feel that we are doing precisely what the hero himself did after the battle of Marengo. Again, what a fund of delicious association is thrown in, without any extra charge, in a fresh canister of Wellington's, or Lord Petersham's-what a conscious community of tastes!-what a grateful levelling of distinctions, without disturbing the public peace, or Mr. Birnie! How cheering to our selflove to reflect that, however exalted above us these great men may be in other respects, their nostrils fare no better than our own. Let the libeller of noses think of this, and pause before he renews his unseemly vituperation. Let him further consider, that his invectives directly tend to bring into contempt some very venerable ceremonies, adopted after mature deliberation, for civic and state occasions, where, while the other senses are disregarded, we see the pleasures of the nose selected as most worthy of public favour and princely countenance. Who, for example, ever heard of the freedom of a city being presented in a splendid fiddle-case? or a foreign ambassador, on the eve of departure, requested to accept, as an especial mark of Royal approbation, a valuable soup-ladle, or a beautifully wrought cork-screw?-No such thing; the bare idea excites derision; but for ages past, both in England and other European states, the snuff-box has been the favoured vehicle of privilege and honour; and it requires little argument to shew, that a preference so long established and acquiesced in, must have solid reasons on its side, that cannot now be shaken by all the sophistries of ridicule or abuse. I once asked an ingenious friend, "how the organ of smelling had contrived to come in for all this honour ?"— 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, Anglicè, 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 vita. 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 Or that when time or fate shall chill my heart, To swell thy breast with sighs, or bid thee weep! 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, |