Then, too, methinks, better than when everything is dry, bright, and rampant, beneath the sun's flaring beams,' may the deeprevolving poet build the lofty rhyme.' Was it of a gadding, sunshiny day, think you, when the world and his wife were abroad, and all creatures prated, that Dan Homer

Heard the Iliad and the Odyssey

Rise to the swelling of the voiceful sea'?

No, James; be assured, 'tis to rainy days we owe the conception of most good and great thinkings, sayings and doings. A man is commonly alone, when he is great-alone, when he studies hard-alone, when he discovers, invents, creates — alone, when his spirit plumes herself, cherub-like, and soars on the wings of vast aspiration alone, when he communes with God. Therefore, James, accept the early and the latter rain, as kind signals to retire and be alone. We have men of action enow, James exhibitors enow forwarders of movements — stirrers up-talkers-men who lead lives of speaking and being spoken to men, whose pocket-minds are furnished with nothing but a mere circulating medium- enough and more than enough of them all! We want mediators devotees thinkers rainy-day men. So did the Persians and Assyrians, of old. Their history is a long tract of darkness. But, from Hebrew and Greek historians, we learn that they were powers of great duration, made immense conquests, and reared hundreds of magnificent cities. They abounded, therefore, in the active, ambitious and bold. Yet have the mighty empires of Babylon and Persia left behind them absolutely nothing for the benefit of mankind not a precept or a truth-not a monument of grandeur and no other trace of their existence than three heaps of bricks and clay on the banks of Euphrates.

- still

Gracious Rain! how long wilt thou vouchsafe thyself to us, thankless groundlings? Wilt thou never tire, serviceable priestess, of thy great lustrations? From a thousand mountain-torrents, and emerald meads, and imperial rivers-from those pleasant homes of thine, the great lakes of the wilderness - from thy palace of Ocean-painfully art thou ever ascending-suffering the intolerable sun-stroke, and expanding to bodiless vapor that thou mayst climb the air, and re-gather thy weary atoms—not to sail off, in thy gorgeous cloud-squadron, to a better world, or to live in soft dalliance forever with the blue Heaven and the silver starbut to hang anxiously over our unworthy heads, and descend seasonably upon city or field, without a murmur from thy hard-earned elevation. Ay! and during that aerial watch of thine, heavenly benefactress! while thou art waiting to be gracious tempering the meridian and unutterably decorating sunset and the dawn- art thou not exposed to the rude and wanton

winds, who rend thy skirts, and hurry thee shivering about the inhospitable skies? And dost thou not entertain, perforce, the lightning-fearful guest! deafened with his monstrous music, the thunder-peal, and scorched and riven with his fierce love? Yet wherefore that toilsome ascent that dread sojourn — but to descend at last, purified by the sublime ordeal, in beneficent cadence, upon an oft ungrateful world? Oh! our offence is rank! One heart, at least, hereafter shall humbly and thankfully welcome thee, whenever thou fallest, sweet rain from Heaven, upon the place beneath.' Whether in the genial infusion of thy fitful April favors, or in the copious and renovating magnificence of the summer shower, or under thy heavy equinoctial dominion, or in the loud, black storm- - wintry or autumnal; welcome ever welcome in all thy seasons and in all thy moods!

For in none, fair minister, art thou not benignant; in the least amiable of them, most singularly dost thou deserve our love. Well would it please thee, doubtless, to usher in perpetual Maymornings with a soft suffusion-to fall never but when fanned by zephyrs and the sweet south-west- or from the breathless skies of June, when a verdant world pants for thy bountiful downcoming! And do we upbraid thee, in our heartless stupidity, because, rather than withold thy life-giving dispensations, thou allyest thy gentle nature with thy opposites, and comest in unwelcome company in chilly league with Eurus, or riding on the stormy wings of night-confounding Aquilo - subduing him to thy soft purpose, and charming away his rage- daring all things, so thou mayst reach and nourish the bosom of thine ancient Mother? Pious child dear invader-forgive us!

COSMO.

A BULL-FIGHT AT MADRID.

BULL-FIGHTS are still much in vogue in Spain, but among the Spaniards of the better classes, there are few who are not ashamed to confess their partiality for so cruel an amusement. They seek, therefore, many grave reasons to justify it. For instance, it is a national amusement. This word national would alone be sufficient, for the patriotism of the anti-chamber is as strong in Spain as in France. Then, say they, the Romans were still more barbarous than we, because they pitted men against men. And the economists come to their aid with the argument, that agriculture profits by the custom, for the high price of fighting bulls encourages the owners to raise them in large numbers. You must know that all bulls have not the courage to rush upon men and horses, and that out of twenty you will hardly find one brave enough to figure in a circus; the nineteen others answer for the farms.

The only argument which they are afraid to advance, and yet which would be unanswerable, is this-that the spectacle, whether cruel or not, is so interesting, so attractive, and causes such powerful emotion, that it is impossible to give it up after one has conquered the repugnance of a first sitting. Strangers, who enter the circus for the first time with a degree of horror, and only to acquit themselves of a duty as faithful travelers strangers, I say, soon become as passionately fond of bull-baiting as the Spaniards themselves. We must confess, to the shame of humanity, that war itself, with all its horrors, possesses irresistible charms to those who contemplate it from its borders.

St. Augustin relates that, in his youth he had an extreme repugnance for gladiatorial combats, and had never witnessed one. Being induced by a friend to accompany him to one of these splendid butcheries, he swore to himself that he would keep his eyes closed during the whole exhibition. For a while he kept his promise manfully, and managed to think of something else; but on a shout raised by the whole assembly at the fall of a celebrated gladiator, he opened his eyes; he opened them, and could not close them. From that time and to the period of his conversion, he was one of the most devoted amateurs of the sports of the circus. After so great a saint, I feel rather delicate about citing myself; but you know that I have not the tastes of a cannibal. The first time that I entered the circus of Madrid, I feared

*One of the most spirited and popular of the French magazine writers, is Prosper Merimée. Some of his sketches have been collected in a volume, under the title of Mosaique; from one of them we have translated this description of a BullFight.

that it would be impossible for me to bear the sight of the blood which was to flow so liberally; I feared especially that my sensibility, which I distrusted, would render me ridiculous in the eyes of the veteran amateurs who had given me a seat in their box. There was nothing of it. The first bull appeared, was wounded; and I thought no more of going out. Two hours rolled on without any intermission, and I was not yet fatigued. No tragedy in the world could have interested me to such a degree. During my stay in Spain, I never missed a single fight, and I blush to confess that I prefer the death-combats to those in which they are content with teasing the bulls, and fix balls to the end of their horns to prevent any serious injury. Here is the same difference as between actual combats and tourneys with blunted lances. However, the two kinds of bull-fights are very much alike, except that in the second the men escape all danger.

The evening before a bull-fight is already a fête. To avoid accidents, they do not lead the bulls into the stables of the circus till night; and the evening before the appointed day, they graze in a pasturage but a short distance from Madrid. It is a favorite walk to go and see these bulls, which are often brought from a distance. Great numbers, in carriages, on horseback and on foot, resort to the pasturage. Many young men, on this occasion, assume the elegant costume of the Andalusian * majo, and display a magnificence and luxury which the simplicity of our ordinary dress does not admit. Besides, this promenade is not without danger; the bulls are at liberty, their conductors find it difficult to manage them, and it is a matter of some skill to avoid the blows of their horns.

There are circuses in almost all the great cities of Spain. These edifices are very simply, not to say rudely constructed. They are in general nothing but great plank barracks - and the amphitheatre of Ronda is cited as a wonder, because it is built entirely of stone. It is the most beautiful in Spain, as the Chateau of Thunder-ten-trenkh was the most beautiful in Westphalia, because it had a gate and windows. But what matters the decoration of a theatre, when the spectacle is attractive?

The circus of Madrid can contain about seven thousand spectators, who enter and leave without confusion, by a large number of doors. They sit on benches of stone or wood; some boxes have chairs. That of his Catholic majesty is the only one elegantly ornamented.

The arena is surrounded by a very strong palisade, about six feet high. About two feet from the ground, and on both sides of the palisades, extends a projection of wood, a kind of footstep or stirrup, which serves to assist the pursued bull-fighter in leap

* Fashionable among the lower classes.

ing the barrier. A narrow gallery separates it from the seats of the spectators, which are also protected by a double cord fastened by strong pickets. This precaution has been practised but a few years. A bull had not only leaped the barrier a matter of not uncommon occurrence- but had even thrown itself among the seats, and killed or wounded several of the spectators. tight cord is thought sufficient to prevent the recurrence of such an accident.

The

Four gates open into the arena. One communicates with the stable; another leads to the shambles, where they skin and dissect the bulls. The other two are used by the human actors in this tragedy.

A little before the trial, the toreadors assemble in the hall contiguous to the circus. Hard by are the stables of the horses. A little farther is an infirmary. A surgeon and a priest attend in the neighborhood, in readiness to yield their aid to the wounded.

The hall, which serves as a green-room, is ornamented with a painted Madonna, before which some tapers are burning; under it, we see a table with a little chafing-dish containing ignited charcoal. On entering, every torero* takes off his hat to the image, hurries over the fag end of a prayer, then pulls a cigar from his pocket, lights it at the chafing-dish, and smokes through a conversation with his comrades and the amateurs, who have come to discuss the merits of the bulls which are to be brought into the

arena.

Meanwhile, in an interior court, the combatants who are going to tilt on horseback, are trying their steeds. For this purpose, they drive them at full gallop to the wall, which they dash against with a long pole, made after the fashion of a pike; and without quitting this rest, they exercise their horses by turning them rapidly, and as near to the wall as possible. You will see at once that this exercise is not without its advantage. The horses made use of are old hacks, bought for a trifle. Before entering the arena lest the cries of the mutitude and the sight of the bulls should terrify them their eyes are bandaged, and their ears are filled with moistened tow.

The aspect of the circus is exceedingly animated. The arena, before the combat, is filled with people, and the benches and boxes show a confused mass of heads. There are two kinds of places. Those on the shady side are the most convenient and expensive; but the sunny side is always thronged with the boldest amateurs. We see much fewer women than men, and the greater part are of the lower classes. In the boxes we observe, however, many elegant dresses, though few young ladies. The Romans, French and English have recently perverted the Span

* One who fights on foot.