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The city is open to the south, and sheltered on the north by a range of mountains whereby it is protected from the cold wintry blasts. There is a very excellent hotel here, which is much frequented by English invalids in the winter-season, where one will find many English comforts not to be had in many parts of Spain. Malaga has a very pretty Alameda, shaded with trees, and ornamented with a handsome marble fountain, where the higher classes promenade in the evening. The public buildings will hardly require any mention. The Cathedral is comparatively modern, having been commenced in 1538, and finished in 1719. Though a spacious edifice, it is devoid of architectural beauty, and contains no good paintings. The stranger should not leave Malaga without visiting one of the factories of clay-figures. These little statuettes are made to represent majos, contrabandistas, bull-fights, and other national characteristics, with a truthfulness to nature that is really surprising. The finish, the painting, and the expression, together with the anatomical accuracy with which they are moulded, excite the admiration of all. Leaving Malaga for Alicante, we stopped for a few hours at Carthagena, once a naval post of great importance, but now in a languishing condition. The Marine Arsenal is on a large scale, but its basins, its docks, its foundries, and its rope-walks, are silent and deserted. Every thing appears to be suffering from neglect, and an air of gloom hangs over this once important place. Leaving Carthagena, we experienced a severelevanter, and our steamer was obliged to put into the small harbor of Santa Pola after running about fifteen miles. We endured a penance of two days in this little port, being unable to land on account of the heavy sea running, or to continue on our voyage, owing to the severity of the gale. But the good and the evil things of this life have alike their end. On the morning of the third day of our detention, the wind abated sufficiently to allow us to proceed to Valencia. Valencia is situated about three miles from its port, and I was conveyed thither in a vehicle muchf used here, called a Tartana, which is nothing more than a cart without springs, covered with a round top, and having the bottom made out of a netting of ropes. Crack went the whip, and away flew the horse at a full gallop, over one of the roughest roads it has ever been my misfortune to travel; and the jolting was so great that I was obliged to hold on to the sides of the vehicle to steady myself. Valencia is the capital and chief city of its province, and contains a population of one hundred and twenty thousand souls. It is surrounded with tapia walls, and has eight gates, the towers and machicolations of which are extremely picturesque. The town, like all Moorish-built towns, has narrow and tortuous streets, and high, gloomy-looking houses. The Cathedral is one of the least ois. in Spain, and appears to be a mixture of the Gothic with the Corinthian style, which harmonize badly. There are some very fine paintings in the chapels and sacristia by Sassoferrato, Juanes, and Ribera. The two latter were natives of Valencia. In the Relicario is the Santo Calir, the cup used at the Last Supper. I believe there are several other churches which claim to have the cu but the Sacristan assured me this was the true one.
In the museo will be found a large collection of paintings, taken principally from suppressed convents. A majority of them are poor, but among the number are several master-pieces by Pibalta, Ribera, and Juanes. The climate of Valencia is very favorable for invalids. In the winterseason the air is soft and balmy, while during the summer the heats are tempered by the sea-breeze. It is also one of the richest agricultural districts of Spain. Under a system of artificial irrigation bequeathed by the Moors, this huerta, c. garden, as it is called, produces a never-ending succession of crops. The Valencians are a much darker-looking people than any I have yet seen in Spain. They appear to be a gay, jovial, pleasure-loving race, but are said to be exceedingly fickle and treacherous. They are very prone to use the knife on the slightest provocation; and in no part of Spain are assassinations more common. While I was in Valencia, there were one or two murders committed in the street, and I was warned by my friends not to stray into any of the by-ways after dark. The costume of the lower classes is quite oriental. The men wear the sandal, with their legs naked, or covered with a kind of a gaiter, or stocking, without feet; pantaloons of white linen, made broad, and extending only a little below the knee; a gay jacket, with slashed sleeves; and over one shoulder is thrown the manta, a many-colored plaid, which serves the purpose of a bed or a cloak. Leaving Valencia by steamer in the afternoon, on the following afternoon I was in Barcelona. On approaching this city, the stranger is somewhat surprised to see the smoke of numerous forges and factories, a sight not witnessed in any other part of Spain. All the new portion of the city is magnificently built; and the streets are wide and well-paved. Every thing looks like good order and industry, wealth and prosperity, and presents a strong contrast to the other towns of the peninsula. The Catalans, however, appear to be a distinct people; they differ in dialect and habits, and are extremely frugal and industrious. In fact, they might with much propriety be called the Yankees of Spain. Here the picturesque costumes of Andalusia and Valencia disappear; the graceful mantilla is almost entirely replaced by the French bonnet, and the musical language of Spain is changed into a vile patois. I arrived in Barcelona in the midst of a great fete, in celebration of the recovery of the Queen from the wound she had received in the attempt made upon her life. All the public buildings and private mansions were decorated with flowers and rich drapery, the streets thronged with well-dressed people, and the Rambla, the fashionable promenade, crowded with the élite of the city. At one end of the promenade a richly-ornamented tent was erected, where a fine band discoursed sweet music for those who wished to join in the dance. Near it was a greased pole, about forty feet high, which afforded constant amusement to a portion of the crowd, for the unlucky wight who attempted to climb it was almost sure to fail. If he succeeded in mounting to the top, he gained great applause, and in addition received a trifling prize. At night the city was brilliantly illuminated; bands of music were playing in every direction, and parties dressed out in fancy costumes, holding large flambeaux
in their hands, paraded the streets on horse-back, and all the theatres were turned into ball-rooms. To the pleasure-seeker, Barcelona presents few attractions; and, in fact, for all classes of travellers, except the commercial, a sojourn of two or three days will amply suffice. Barcelona terminates my journeyings in Spain, and I will conclude these brief sketches with a few passing remarks upon the people and the country. Those who have never travelled in Spain, or who are little acquainted with the manners and customs of the country, have an idea that all Spaniards are grave and formal, like the Castilian. This, however, is far from being the case. The people of each province are almost as distinct as different nations, having manners and customs, dress and dialect peculiar to themselves. This peculiarity is doubtless owing to the isolation of the different provinces by the chains of mountains which intersect the peninsula, and cut off intercommunication, as well as to the fact that for ages these provinces formed separate and distinct kingdoms. The rude, boorish Gallician, the industrious Catalan, the idle, jovial Andalusian, the sly, vindictive Valencian, and the grave, dignified sons of Castile, differ from each other as much as the inhabitants of distinct nations. In travelling over this beautiful country, upon which PRovidence has lavished His choicest favors, and which, under the rule of the Romans and Moors, was a land flowing with milk and honey, the tourist is struck with the scenes of desolation that every where meet the view. He roams over deshechas y despoblados, or wild unpeopled wastes, treeless and arid, where the melancholy picture is often heightened by ruined castles and villages, the signs of former prosperity passed away. The towns through which he passes are too often the abodes of poverty and wretchedness, and an air of gloom and sadness pervades their silent streets. The sea-ports have lost their former commercial importance, and the silent quays, once thronged by a busy crowd, attest the decayed condition. of the land. And wherefore, it may be asked, is this poverty, desolation, and wretchedness so visible, in a country which possesses advantages unsurpassed by any in Christendom; where a fertile soil and every variety of climate admit of the productions of the tropical and temperate zones; where the bowels of the earth yield precious metals, coal, and quarries of innumerable varieties of marble; in fine, with a position most favorable to commerce, and a line of sea-coast abounding in fine harbors ? Yes, wherefore is this beautiful and once flourishing land so fallen, her people so sunk in ignorance, and so far behind every other civilized nation in arts and agriculture? An answer may be found in these words—bad government!
THE CRYSTAL WAVE OF MACKIN A W.
BT A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.
No more the Huron dips his poiseless oar,
Of Mackinaw -
Nor the fierce Chippewa, with bounding leap,
Their younger brother now, with lofty pride,
Though the pale tradesman or the dusky brave
Of Mackinaw -
For ever flows: for Winter shall in vain
Of Mackinaw -
And when the vernal zephyrs softly blow,
Of Mackinaw -
When, languishing, from torrid heats I flee,
Of Mackivaw -
TRANSCRI P T S
FROM THE DOCKET OF A LATE SE ERIP?.
BY FREDERICK I VULTE.
A TEUNDERING MUSICIAN.
GOODNITY gracious me! the Old Boy's dead and buried !' ejaculated old Thison to me one morning, as he came in the office; de • Old Boy's' dead, Mr. Sheriff; I dreamed it last night; and whenever I dream, continued he, 'of the old fellow, good-luck follows, and whatever we've got to do to-day will be successful. We a'n't a going to be disappointed in any thing to day; business will go on smoove; no ups, no downs; square work; pleasant and nice. Beside, I got my boy's feet on me once more, and I feel young again. Yes! yes ! the Old Boy's dead and buried! Nothing but good-luck to-day ; bless you! bless you! good-luck day!' and so the music of the old man's voice died away in a lengthened cadenza.
It may be well for me to remark here, that the old man was a remarkable dreamer, and be always had a prognostic of some particular action in which he would figure successfully, or that some event would be successfully achieved by him whenever he dreamed. He was a firm believer in the prophecy of dreams.
“So, so, TISE, you had a dream, eh? pray tell it to me. And the Old Boy is dead at last, and buried,' said I to him, playfully ; dead and buried,' emphasizing where he did ; and so you think we'll have goodluck to-day?'
"Well, Mr. Sheriff,' answered he, ‘I was cumfably fixed in my room last night 'bout ten o'clock, duin' something for my head — for you know I've been sufferin' de last day or two with a cold in my head — I woun'. a stocking round my throat- nothin' better for a sore throat than that, you know — and Mrs. Biggum, my land-lady, telled me dere was nothing better for me den a gin-punch made hot, and I must n't be very particular 'bout how much gin I took, only don't let it be too small; so I followed her advice, and I made it good, and hot, and strong, (and he emphasized
strong;'] and I got in bed afterward, and I fell asleep soon, like a gentle little baby, I did; and I slept like a top, I did; and I dreamed, I did; and
"Don't stop me, Mr. Sheriff; you'll spile it. I can't tell you the dream if you interrupt ine. I was on a good string, and would let you have it all just as it come to me. Now do n't do that ag'in ! bless you, do n't do that ag'in.'
I knew that he could not bear to be stopped in the recital, yet I was indisposed to hear his nonsense; nevertheless, as I had given him encour agement to listen to his dream, it would be provoking the very Old Boy