WASHINGTON IRVING'S ALHAMBRA.

IT was a mistake in WASHINGTON IRVING to call his composi- tions sketches—they are finished pictures: in the paintings of his countryman LESLIE, there is not a nicer attention to the minutiae of costume, complexion, air, character, and gait. But there is more than mere precision,—over all there is thrown the vivid glow of a warm imagination; the subject, whatever it be, is animated with a thousand hues lent to it by the associations of the writer.

Where there is least of the reality, it often happens there is most of the riches of fiction : no banquets are so luxurious as those given . in the cerebellum of a hungry beggar. WASHINGTON IRVING, on the banks of the Hudson, thought of Europe as the land of romance, dwelt upon its stories, and invested it with all the brightness of an enchanted scene. He came to us, not to see what we are, but to realize a dream—to live over the past. What is more evident, than that, in all his pictures of the ancestral country, he sees not the mere creature as he is, but the reflec- tion of some ancient glory? After putting us down in his Sketch- book as PROUT portrays an old town of France, with all its crum- bling picturesqueness and more than its gaudy gayety, leaving out the squalor that shticks the eye and the filth that offends the nostrils,—he has now gone to pay the same duty to Spain. Spain, it must be observed, stands in a reverend relation to Ame- rica : it is the land of the discoverers—the true European terri- torial ancestor of America. COLUMBUS was the ADAM of the New World.

We have long heard of hymn's sojourn in Spain, and always looked forward to great results as regarded the realms of poetry. For be it observed, that he is nothing but a poet—that is, a gilder of the past—a singer of the deeds of old—one who lives not in what is, but what has been or might be. A poet is a man in the preterite tense regarding him as a verb, and always in the super- lative degree taking him as an adjective. If there was any part of Spain provocative to his imagination, it was the Moorish capital ; and of that capital, the palace of the sounding name—the Alhambra. Here it is in ruins, but clothed with every species of art: its actual state is described in the all-beautiful style of the author. The fancy is pleased with allusions to the past ; the beggars and vagrants that swarm in it are invested with ideal character; tra- dition is called to the aid of the enchanter, and he finishes his task by garrisoning the old palace-fortress with more charms than it possessed in the days of either ZORAYDA or LI NOARAX.4..

The Alhambra is but a mere episode in the author's travels and residence in Spain; but a man with his fancy could fill a nutshell with a fairy palace, and people it with ten thousand tiny courtiers, each in a different costume, and all with varying and distinctive Characters. An ordinary traveller might find in this ancient Moorish fortress little besides a few deserted courts, some broken fountains, and dilapidated chambers; but WASHING- TON takes up his residence in it, and, with the skill of Aladdin, does more than restore its beauty and splendour, for he con- trives to mingle the pure joy of retrospection with the delights of mere present existence. Thus, in his book, the Alhambra is more than it was in its grandest period of Morisco splendour; the brilliancy is softened by distance, and tempered by time; ima- gination lets in the light under the dictates of taste, and that which would have been glaring becomes luxuriously tender.

The plan of the work is simple: it is a description of the author's journeying to Granada—of his taking up his abode in the falace of BOABDIL—of his observations on the place and its in- habitants, interwoven with the legends respecting it picked up from the persons dwelling in and about it; with many of whom we are made intimately acquainted. It is scarcely possible to conceive any thing more exquisite than the style in which all this is couched. It is a sort of music—now swelling like the organ, now dying away like the sound of a horn reverberating among the mountains—now ascending with a clear even note like a cla- rionet, or sometimes piping away like a shepherd on the hills, " as if he would never grew old."

It may be inferred, that our pleasure is chiefly derived from the .aescriptive parts of the work. It is so. The legends or tales have all this writer's hurndur and perfectness of representation, but we are, after all, most charmed with that part which it is now almost ridiculous, since the days of Mr. Shandy, to term the " Sentimental Journey." The landscapes of Spain, so glowingly tinted—the peculiar character of Spaniards—the humorous development of their' distinctive traits—together with the artist-like drawings of the Alhambra itself—these are the things which would cause ms to lay up this book among our favourites, bind it in mo- zocco, and reserve it for summer reading in happy hours.

Having thus indulged in a burst of critical admiration, we shall proceed to furnish forth a .banquet of the delicious viands, the flavour of whichwe ourselves so greatly. prize. To extract one of the tales, may be all very well in the way of robbery, but is a bad system of chaperonage: we would put our protegee in the best light, and at less expense than the best part of her dowry.

Now for our notes of admiration! Let our readers beware of

omitting a word : the very echo of a sentence is precious: not an extract shall we make that ought not to be written in letters of gold—if the author himself had not already indited them in an in- delible and immortal ink, far more precious than metal or other earthly treasure.

PICTURE OF seam.

Many are apt to picture Spain to their imaginations as a soft southern region, decked out with all the luxuriant charms of voluptuous Italy. On the contrary,

though there are exceptions in some of the maritime provinces, yet, for the greater part, it is a stern, melancholy country, with rugged mountains, and long sweeping plains, destitute of trees, and indescribably silent and lonesome, par- taking of the savage and solitary character of Africa. What adds to this silence and loneliness, is the absence of singing-birds, a natural consequence of the want of groves and hedges. The vulture and the eagle are seen wheeling about the

mountain-cliffs, and soaring over the plains, and groups of shy bustards stalk

about the heaths; but the myriads smaller birds, which animate the whole face of other countries, are met with in'but few provinces in Spain, and in those chbfly among the orchards and gardens which surround the habitations of man.

In the interior provinces the traveller occasionally traverses great tracts cub; tivated with grain as far as the eye can reach, waving at times with verdure, at other times naked and sunburnt, but he looks round iu vain for the hand that has tilled the soil. At length, he perceives some village on a steep hill, or rug- ged crag, with mouldering battlementsand ruined watch-tower; a strong-hold, in old times, against civil war or Moorish inroad ; for the custom among the peasantry of congregating together for mutual protection, is still kept up in most parts of 'Spain, in consequence of the maraudings of roving freebooters. But though a great part of Spain is deficient in the garniture of groves and forests, and the softer charms of ornamental cultivation, yet its scenery has something of a high and lofty character to compensate the want. It partakes something of the attributes of its people ; and I think that I better understand the proud, hardy, frugal, and abstemious Spaniard, his manly defiance of hard- ships, and contempt of effeminate indulgences, since I have seen the country he inhabits. • There is something, too, in the sternly simple features of the Spanish land- scape, that impresses on the soul a feeling of sublimity. The immense plains of the Castiles and of La Mancha, extending us far as the eve can reach, derive an' interest from their very nakedness and immensity, and have something of the solemn grandeur of the ocean. In ranging over these boundless wastes, the eye catches sight here and there of a straggling herd of cattle attended by a lonely. herdsman, motionless as a statue, with his long slender pike tapering up like a lance into the air; or beholds a long train of mules slowly moving along the waste like a train of camels in the desert ; or a single herdsman, armed with blunderbuss and stiletto, and prowling over the plain. Thus the country, the habits, the very looks of the people, have something of the Arabian character. The general insecurity of the country is evinced in the universal use of weapons. The herdsman in the field, the shepherd iu the plain, has his musket and his knife. The wealthy villager rarely ventures to the market-town without his trabuco, and, perhaps, a servant on foot with a blunderbuss on his shudder; and the most petty journey is undertaken with the preparation of a warlike en- terprise. MULETEER or SPAIN. MULETEER or SPAIN.

The muleteer is the general medium of traffic, and the legitimate traverser of the land, crossing the Peninsula from the Pyrenees and the Asturias to the Al- ptstarrits, the Serrauia de Ronda, and even to the gates of Gibraltar. He lives frugally and hardily : his alforjas of coarse cloth hold his scanty stock of pro- visions ; a leathern bottle, hanging at his saddle-bow, contains wine or water, for a supply across barren mountains and thirsty plains. A mule-cloth spread upon the ground, is his bed at night, and his packsaddle is his pillow. His low, but clean-limbed and sinewy form betokens strength ; his complexion is dark and sunburnt ; his eye resolute, but quiet in its expression, except when kindled by sudden emotion ; his demeanour is frank, manly, and courteous, and he never passes you without a grave salutation—" Dios guarde a usted !" " Va noted con Dios, Caballero !" " God guard you! God be with you, Cavalier !"

THE TRUANT.

Since noting the foregoing pages, we have had a scene of petty tribulation in the Alhambra, which has thrown a cloud over the sunny countenance of Dolores. This little damsel has a female passion for pets of all kinds ; and from the super- abundant kindness of her disposition, one of the ruined courts of the Alhambra is thronged with her favourites. A stately peacock and his hen seem to hold regal sway here, over pompous turkeys, querulous guinea-fowls, and a rabble rout of common cocks and hens. The great delight of Dolores, however, has for some time past been centered in a youthful pair of pigeons, who have lately en- tered into the holy state of wedlock, and who have even supplanted a tortoise- shell cat and kittens in her affections.

As a tenement thr them wherein to commence housekeeping, she had fitted up- a small chamber adjacent to the kitchen, the window of which looked into one of the quiet Moorish courts. Here they lived in happy ignorance of any world beyond the court and its sunny roofs. Never had they aspired to soar above the battlements, or to mount to the summit of the towers. Their virtuous union was at length crowned by two spotless and milk-white eggs, to the great joy of their cherishing little mistress. Nothing could be more praiseworthy than the conduct of the young married folks on this interesting occasion. They took turns to sit upon the nest until the eggs were hatched, and while their callow progeny required warmth and shelter ; while one thus stayed at home, the other foraged abroad for food, and brought home abundant supplies. This scene of conjugal felicity has suddenly met with a reverse. Early this morning, as Dolores was feeding the male pigeon, she took a fancy to give him a pep at the great world. Openinga window, therefore, which looks down upon the valley of the Darro, she launched him at once beyond the walls of the Al- hambra. For the first time in his life the astonished bird had to try the full vigour of his wings. He swept down into the valley, and then, rising upwards with a surge, soared almost to the clouds. Never before had he risen to such a height, or experienced such delight in flying; and, like a young spendthrift just come to his estate, he seeined.giddy with excess of liberty, and with the bound- less field of action suddenly opened to him. For the whole day he has been cir- cling about in capricious flights, from tower to tower, and tree to tree. Every attempt has been vain to lute him back by scattering grain upon the roofs; he seems to have lost all thought of home, of his tender helpmate and his callow young. To add to the anxiety of Dolores, he has been joined by two palomas ladrones, or robber pigeons, whose instinct it is to entice wandering pigeons to their own dovecotes. The fugitive, like many other thoughtless youths on their first launching upon the world, seems quite fascinated with these knowing, but

graceless companions, who have undertaken to show him life, and introduce him to society. He has been soaring with them over all the roofs and steeples of Granada. A thunderstorm has passed over the city, but he has not sought his home; night has closed in, and still he comes not. To deepen the pathos of

the affair, the female pigeon, after remaining several hours'on the nest, without being relieved, at length went forth to seek her recreant mate; but stayed away so long that the young ones perished for want of the warmth and shelter of the parent bosom. At a late hour in the evening, word was brought to Dolores, that the truant bird had been seen upon the towers of the Generalife. Now it happens that the Admisistrodor of that ancient palace has likewise a dovecote, among the inmates of which are said to be two or three of these inveigling birds, the terror of all neighbouring pigecn-fanciers. Dolores immediately concluded, that the two feathered sharpers who had been seen with her fugitive, were these bloods of the Generalife. A council of war was forthwith held in the chamber of Tia Antonia. The Generalife is a distinct jurisdiction from the Alhambra, and of course some punctilio, if not jealousy, exists between their custodians. It was determined, therefore, to send P6pe, the stuttering lad of the gardens, as ambassador to the Administrador, requesting, that if such fugitive should be found in his dominions, he might be given up as a subject of the Alhambra. Pepe departed accordingly, on his diplomatic expedition, through the moon- light groves and avenues, but returned in an hour with the afflicting intelligence that no such bird was to be found in the dovecote of the Generalife. The Ad- ministrador, however, pledged his sovereign word, that if such vagrant should appear there, even at midnight, he should instantly be arrested, and sent back prisoner to his little black-eyed mistress.

Thus stands the melancholy affair, which has occasioned much distress throughout the palace, and has sent the inconsolable Dolores to a sleepless pillow.

" Sorrow endureth for a night," says the proverb, " but joy cometh in the morning." The first object that met my eyes, on leaving my room this morning, was Dolores, with the truant pigeon in her hands, and her eyes sparkling with joy. He had appeared at an early hour on the battlements, hovering shyly about from rostto roof, bufat length entered the window, and surrendered himself prisoner. He gained little credit, however, by his return; for the ravenous manner in which he devoured the food set before him, showed that, like the prodigal son, he had been driven home by sheer famine. Dolores upbraided Lim for his faithless conduct, calling him all manner of vagrant names,—though, woman like, she fondled him at the same time to her bosom, and covered him with kisses. I observed, however, that she had taken care to clip his wings to prevent all future soarings ; a precaution which I mention, for the benefit of all those who have truant lovers or wandering husbands. More than one valuable moral might be drawn from the story of Dolores and her pigeon.

THE TWO CLASSES OF SPANIARDS.

Here are two classes of people to whom life seems one long holyday,—the very rich, and the very poor; one because they need do nothing, the other because they have nothing to do ; but there are none who understand the art of doing nothing, and living upon nothing, better than the poor classes of Spain. Cli- mate does one half, and temperament the rest. Give a Spaniard the shade in summer, and the siin in winter ; a little bread, garlick, oil, and garbances, an old brown cloak and a guitar, and let the world roll on as it pleases. Talk of poverty ! with him it has no disgrace. It sits upon him with a grandiose style, like his ragged cloak. He is a hidalgo, even when in rags. The "sons of the Alhambra" are an eminent illustration of this practical phi- losophy. As the Moors imagined that the celestial paradise hung over this favoured spot, so I am inclined at times to fancy, that a gleam of the golden age still lingers about the ragged community. They possess nothing, they do nothing, they care for nothing. Yet, though apparently idle all the week, they are as ob- servant of all holydays and saints' days as the most laborious artisan. They at- tend all ff•tes and dancings in Granada and its vicinity, light bonfires on the hills on St. John's eve, and have lately danced away the moonlight nights on the harvest home of a small field within the precincts of the fortress, which yielded a few bushels of wheat.

MOONLIGHT IN ANDALUSIA.

Sometimes I have issued forth at midnight, when every thing was quiet, and have wandered over the whole building. Who can do justice to a moonlight night in such a climate and in such a place ! The temperature of an Andalusian midnight in summer is perfectly ethereal. We seem lifted up into a purer at- mosphere ; there is a serenity of soul, a buoyancy of spirits, an elasticity of frame, that render mere existence enjoyment. The effect of moonlight, too, on the Alhambra, has something like enchantment. Every rent and chasm of time, every mouldering tint and weather-stain disappears; the marble resumes its original whiteness; the long colonnades brighten in the moonbeams; the halls are illuminated with a softened radiance until the whole edifice reminds one of the enchanted palace of an Arabian tale. ".

At such a time I have ascended to the little pavilion called the Queen's Toi- lette, to enjoy its varied and extensive prospect. To the right, the snowy sum- mits of the Sierra Nevada would gleam like silver clouds against the darker firmament, and all the outlines of the mountain would be softened, yet delicately defined. My delight, however, would be to lean over the parapet of the tocador, and gaze down upon Granada, spread out like a map below me ; all buried in deep repose, and its white palaces and convents sleeping, as it were, in the moonshine. •

A DAY IN SPAIN.

Scarce has the grey dawn streaked the sky, and the earliest cock crowed from the cottages of the hill-side, when the suburbs give sign of reviving animation ; for the fresh hours of dawning are precious in the summer season in a sultry climate. All are anxious to get the start of the sun, in the business of the day. The muleteer drives forth his loaded train for the journey; the traveller slings his carbine behind his saddle, and mounts his steed at the gate of the hostel; the brown peasant urges his loitering beasts, laden with panniers of sunny fruit and fresh dewy vegetables; for already the thrifty housewives are hastening to the market.

The sun is up and sparkles along the valley, tipping the transparent foliage of the groves. The matin bells resound melodiously through the pure bright air, announcing the hour of devotion. The muleteer halts his burdened animals before the chapel, thrusts his staff through his belt behind, and enters with hat in hand, smoothing his coal-black hair, to hear a mass, and put up a prayer for a prosperous wayfaring across the sierra. And now steals forth on fairy foot the gentle Senora, in trim basquina, with restless fin in hand, and dark eye flashing from beneath the gracefully. folded mantilla : she seeks sonic well-frequented church to offer up her morning orisons ; but the nicely adjusted dress, the dainty shoe, and cobweb stocking, the raven tresses, exquisitely braided, the fresh plucked rose, that gleams among them like a gem, show that earth divides with Heaven the empire of her thoughts. Keep an eye upon her, careful mother, or virgin aunt, or vigilant duenna, whichever you be, that walk behind.

As the morning advances, the din of labour augments on every side ; the streets are thronged with man, and steed, and beast of burden, and there is a hum and murmur, like the surges of the ocean. As the sun ascends to his me- ridian, the hum and bustle gradually decline ; at the height of HOOD there is a pause. The panting city sinks into lassitude, and for several hours there is a general repose. The windows are closed ; the curtains drawn, the inhabitants retired into the coolest recesses of their mansions ; the full-fed monk snores in his dormitory; the brawny porter lies stretched on the pavement beside his burden ; the peasant and the labourer sleep beneath the trees of the Alameda, lulled by the sultry chirping of the locust. The streets are deserted, except by the water-carder, who refreshes the ear by proclaiming the merits of his spark- ling beverage, "colder than the mountain snow." As. the,sun declines, there is again a gradual reviving ; and when the vesper

bell rings out his sinking knell, all nature seems to rejoice that the tyrant of the day has fallen. Now begini the bustle of enjoyment, when the citizens pour forth to breathe the evening air, and revel away the brief twilight in the walks and gardens of the Darro and the Xenil.

As night chilies, the capricious scene assumes new features. Light after light gradually twinkles forth; here a taper from a balconied window ; there a votive lamp befime the image of a saint. Thus, by degrees, the city emerges from the pervading gloom, and sparkles with scattered lights, like the starry firmament. Now break forth from court and garden, and street and lane, the tinkling of innumerable guitars, and the clicking of castanets; blending, at this lofty height, in a faint but general concert. Enjoy the moment, is the creed of the gay and amorous Andalusian; and at no time does he practise it more zealously than in the balmy nights of summer, wooing his mistress with the dance, the love ditty, and the passionate serenade.

SPANISH VETERAN.

Among the curious acquaintances I have made in my rambles about the for- tress, is a brave and battered old Colonel of Invalids, who is nestled like a hawk in one of the Moorish towers. His history, which he is fond of telling, is a tis- sue of those adventures, mishaps, and vicissitudes that render the life of almost every Spaniard of note as varied and whimsical as the pages of Gil Bias. He was in America at twelve years of age, and reckons among the most signal and fortunate events of his life, his having seen General. Washington. Since then he has taken a part in all the wars of his country ; he can speak experi- mentally of most of the prisons and dungeons of the Peninsula; has been lamed of one leg, crippled in his hands, and so cut up and carbonadoed that he is a kind of walking monument of the troubles of Spain, on which there is a scar for every battle and broil, as every year was notched upon the tree of Robinson Crusoe. The greatest misfortune of the brave old cavalier, however, appears to have been his having commanded at Malaga during a time of peril and confu- sion, and been-made a general by the inhabitants, to protect them from the in- vasion of the French. This has entailed upon him a number of just claims upon government, that I fear will employ him until his dying day in writing and printing petitions and memorials, to the great disquiet of his mind, exhaustion of his purse and penance of his iriends; not one of whom can visit him without having to listen to a mortal document of half an hour in length, and to carry away half a dozen pamphlets in his pocket. This, however, is the case through- out Spain; everywhere you meet with some worthy Wight brooding in a corner and nursing up some pet grievance and cherished wrong. Beside, a Spaniard who has a lawsuit, or a claim upon government, may be considered as fur- nished with employment for the remainder of his life.