lons, limones, naranjas, figas, dulces, aqua-fresca, limonada, florres, cigarras, fuego, &c. &c. re-echo on every side. Young lads or pretty damsels offer you sliced melons, oranges, pomegranates, figs, sweetmeats, and nosegays tastefully disposed in elegant baskets; while athletic Galicians carry about water for sale in large pitchers, and for a single octavo refresh many a parched tongue. Scarcely is the cigar-merchant passed but he is succeeded by a ragged boy, who carries a small lamp, and continually exclaiming "Qui quiere fuego?" (who wants fire?) will furnish you with a light for so trifling a coin as a maravedi. The broad carriage-way, separated from the walks set apart for the use of the foot-passengers, is now gradually filled with vehicles of every description. These, on Sundays and festivals particularly, form a continued procession, driving up one side of the Prado, until they turn round in the circular place before the Convent of the Recollects, and so return to the Atocha Gate. This scene is by no means one of the least entertaining: here may be seen an old-fashioned, heavy, worm-eaten coach, overloaded with monstrous gilt ornaments; this is the antique family equipage of some Hidalgo. Next appears a splendid English phaeton, whose snorting impatient Andalusian steeds are detained by the tardy pace of the four jaded mules, with bells at their necks, by which the neighbouring carriage is drawn, and which a caricature figure of a coachman attempts in vain to urge on by his incessant Arra mula! Horsemen, as various in their appearance as the carriages, surround the motley procession: the stately prancing Navarre stallion appears to glance contemptuously at the starved Rosinante of a second Quixote, and while splendid liveries excite the admiration of the gazing spectators, many a clumsy, grotesque Sancho Panza, stuck up behind a vehicle as odd as himself, excites the mirth of the young and fashionable elegants. The sun is now fast descending behind the Guadarana mountains:-the carriages begin to disperse; the dashing of the fountains is more distinctly heard; the aromatic perfumes from the botanic garden, berne along by the cool evening gale, emit a more sensible and delicious fragrance; the heavens already expand their starry canopy of deepest azure across the Prado; and the silvery orb of the moon breaks through the thick branches of the elm trees, casting a pale splendour on the solemn shadowy walks. The strict duenna has now conducted home her fair charge, through streets where no sound is heard, except where some seguidillas have been gently whispered here and there from balconies;-nor is the fair one herself sorry to exchange the bustle abroad for the social circle at home,-in the midst of which some inspired youth chants his warm strains to the guitar or mandoline. About this hour, little parties form dances round some lofty elm, while the castagnets beat time to their lively motions. The evening breeze begins to breathe more keenly over Buen Retiro: the ladies wrap themselves up closer in their mantillas, and the crowd gradually disperses itself. It is at this time that poor creatures who have obtained a few octavos by begging during the day, and labourers whose hard destiny allows them no better shelter than the open sky, succeed to the gay world of fashion :-they are seen gliding along through the deserted walks, ill-covered by their ragged cloaks: they lie down to sleep upon the benches and seats which have been just occupied by the most blooming beauties and most elegant beaux of Madrid. London Magazine. MRS. JORDAN AND THE METHODIST PREACHER. THOSE who, like me, have had the pleasure of being on terms of friendly intimacy with this unrivalled actress, equally a credit to her profession and an honour to human nature, will corroborate my testimony in asserting that, in addition to her many other good qualities, she possessed a heart susceptible of the most tender and humane emotions, called into instant action by the least approach of misery or distress. During her short stay at Chester, where she was performing, as usual, to crowded and enraptured houses, her washerwoman, a widow, with three small children, was, by a merciless creditor, thrown into prison; a small debt of forty shillings having, in a very short time, by the usual process of the glorious uncertainty, item, this, that, and the other, been worked up to a bill of eight pounds. As soon as this good creature heard of the circumstances, she sent for the attorney, paid his demand, and observed, with as much severity as her good-natured countenance could assume, 66 You lawyers are certainly infernal spirits, sent on earth to make poor mortals miserable." The attorney, however, pocketed the affront, and with a low bow made his exit. On the afternoon of the same day the poor woman was liberated. As Mrs. Jordan, with her servant, was taking her usual walk on the Chester walls, the widow with her three children followed her, and just as she had taken shelter from a shower of rain, in a long kind of porch, dropped on her knees, and with difficulty exclaimed, "God for ever bless you, madam! you have saved me and my family from ruin." The children beholding their mother's tears, added their plaintive cries, and formed together a scene too affecting for so sensitive a mind to behold without the strongest sensations of sympathetic feeling, affording, I should conceive, a sort of heavenly pleasure not to be described, and felt but by those whom Providence has blessed with a soul of sufficient magnitude. The natural liveliness of disposition Mrs. Jordan was well known to possess would not easily be damped by sorrowful scenes; nevertheless, although she strove to hide it, the tear of feeling stole down the cheek of sensibility, and stooping to kiss the children, she slipped a pound note into the mother's hand, and in her usual playful manner replied, "There, there; now it's all over; go, good woman, God bless you! don't say another word." The grateful creature would have replied, but this good Samaritan insisted on her silence and departure, which at last she complied with, sobbing forth thanks, and calling down blessings on her benefactress. It so happened that another person had taken shelter in the porch, and witnessed the whole of this interesting scene, who, as soon as our heroine observed him, came forward, holding out his hand, and with a deep sigh exclaiming, "Lady, pardon the freedom of a stranger, but would to the Lord the world were all like thee." The figure of this man plainly bespoke his calling; his countenance was pale and woebegone, and a suit of sable, rather the worst for wear, covered a figure thin and spare. The penetrating eye of our fair philanthropist soon developed the character and profession of this singular-looking person, and with her wonted good-humour and playfulness, retiring a few paces, she replied, "No, I won't shake hands with you." "Why?" -"Because you are a methodist preacher, and when you know who I am, you'll send me to the devil."-" The Lord forbid! I am, as you say, a preacher of the gospel of Jesus Christ, who tells us to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, and relieve the distressed; and do you think I can behold a sister so cheerfully obeying the commands of my great Master, without feeling a spiritual attachment that leads me to break through worldly customs, and offer you the hand of friendship and brotherly love?”. Well, well, you are a good old soul, I dare say; but a -I don't like fanatics, and you'll not like me when I tell you who I am."-"I hope I shall."-" Well, then, I tell you I am a player."-The preacher turned up his eyes, and sighed. "Yes, I am a player; you must have heard of me; Mrs. Jordan is my name." After a short pause, he again put forth his hand, and with a complacent countenance replied, "The Lord bless thee, whoever thou art; his goodness is unlimited; he hath bestowed on thee a large portion of his spirit, and as to thy calling, if thy soul upbraid thee not, the Lord forbid that I should!" Thus reconciled, the rain having abated, they left the porch together, whilst the deep impression this scene, together with the fascinating address of our heroine, made on the mind of the preacher, overcame all his prejudices, and the offer of his arm being accepted, the female Roscius of the comic English drama, and the melancholy disciple of John Wesley, proceeded, arm in arm, affording, in appearance at least, rather a whimsical contrast, till the door of her dwelling put an end to the scene. At parting, the preacher again took her hand."Fare thee well, sister," said he; "I know not what the principles of people of thy calling may be, for thou art the first I ever conversed with; but if their benevolent practice equals thine, I hope and trust, at the great day, the Lord will say to each, " are forgiven thee." Thy sins Ryley's Itinerant. ODE TO A FRIEND. FROM THE SPANISH OF FRANCESCO DE MEDSANO. O TRIED in good and evil hour, My partner through life's thorny track, O partner of my soul, how soon With thee the dancing moments flew Companions in calamity, We fled the stormy ocean's roar : Fate bore in safety to the shore :-- ; |