unclouded glories of the western sky reflected upon the crisped bosom of the ocean, and steeping bay, creek, headland in hues that would defy the powers of a Claude to transfer to canvass. From these little watch-towers one looks down upon a vast expanse of flat-terraced roofs, white as the walls they surmount, and, in many instances, gay with flowers, which gradually become animated by the presence of some of the dwellers within; Senoritas are there to be seen tending the blooming shrubs that impart to their terrace the appearance of a gay parterre; children at high romps; gentlemen smoking cigars; ladies fanning themselves, and stepping daintily backwards and forwards, conscious that, even there, admiring eyes are fixed upon them; while, from the streets below, ascends the hum of the busy throngs who at that hour are all directing their steps towards the Alameda and the Plaza de la Constitucion. But that which has the most amused me in the moving tableau which the roofs of Cadiz exhibits at sunset is a sportsman, accoutred in a shooting jacket and gaiters, with powder-flask, game-bag, and gun en règle, and attended by a fine pointer, who actually takes the diversion of shooting over the preserves of his terrace, with all the ceremonies that would attend a similar pursuit in a turnip field or stubble ground in Norfolk. The dog regularly beats about the ground and points, and puts up a sparrow or a swallow, and his master as regularly takes aim and fires; and although literally "il tire sa poudre aux moineaux," and that, even should he hit his bird, it inevitably falls into the street, or upon some neighbouring roof, he appears to be as much delighted as though he had brought down the finest pheasant that ever whizzed out of a brake-whistles his dog to him, makes much of him, and recommences. That this ardent sportsman should like to shoot at sparrows upon the housetop is quite intelligible; but the accompaniment of the pointer is one of those solemn absurdities that defy calculation. It reminds me of the seamanship of some of our Thames-yachting amateurs, who, although they have never screwed up their courage to the sticking point of venturing into blue water, never go on a white-bait excursion to Greenwich or Blackwall without ordering close-reefed top-sails and a stormjib to be got ready, in order to meet the contingent perils of their cruise.

Our last and longest specimen carries us from Gibraltar to Africa:

Seen from afar, Tetuan really looks beautiful, from its advantageous position and the dazzling whiteness of the whole mass of buildings, which is rendered still more conspicuous by the deep verdure of the mountains that form its back ground; but, on reaching the town, all the prestige of its beauty vanishes! The houses have the most gloomy appearance; nothing but whitewashed walls are to be seen, with no windows looking outwards, their place being supplied by little apertures like holes to peep through. The streets are exceedingly narrow; and the houses are only two stories high, with flat-terraced roofs, upon which the inhabitants take the air in the evening. After passing through innumerable dark and winding lanes. abominably paved, and too narrow for two horses to proceed a-breast, we arrived at the Jewish quarter, which is quite distinct from the Moorish part of the town, and where the greatest industry and bustle appcared to prevail : for in the Barbary states, as throughout the Levant, commerce and business are in a great measure monopolized by the thrifty sons of Israel. The

shops of these merchants and artizans are miserable little échoppes open to the street, but having neither windows nor doors, and not large enough to contain the vendor and his customers; the latter therefore remain standing in the street, bargaining over the shopboard with the crafty dealer. The merchandise is never exposed to view in these shops, and we could only guess at the various trades of their owners by seeing them employed in the manufacture of their goods in these miserable little holes, which serve them for workshop and warehouse. At last our leader made a halt at a little door in a long white wall, which formed one side of a particularly crooked lane; and we descended from our horses on being informed that this was the entrance to the habitation of Solomon Nahon, the Jew, to whose house all European travellers visiting Tetuan repair. The outward appearance boded nothing very favourable to the dwelling; but, the moment we passed through the narrow inhospitable-looking gate, all our misgivings were converted into the most agreeable surprise, for we found ourselves in one of those pretty and exquisitely clean Moorish habitations of which the Mahometan remains at Granada had given us so correct an idea. A patio, or court paved with different coloured glazed tiles, is surrounded with two tiers of galleries, within which are cool-looking chambers, receiving their light through the horse-shoe arches that look into the court; and every part of the building is as clean and fresh as though it had just been newly painted and whitewashed. In the centre of the court stood a group of very pretty young women, (the wife and sisters of Solomon Nahon,) who, in the manner of the Jewesses of the East, stepped forward and kissed me as I crossed the threshold. As I had been told that the costume of the women of Tetuan is a remnant of the fashions bequeathed to them by the luxurious Moors of Spain when they took refuge upon these shores, I was very curious in examining the toilette of my pretty hostesses, some parts of which struck me as being very elegant. The mistress of the house wore a kaftan of green cloth lined with crimson and edged with gold twist, so fashioned as to display the sleeves and bosom of her chemise, which were tastefully embroidered in coloured silk and gold; the body was also enriched with a sort of stomacher of velvet, worked with gold thread and coloured foil, which produced a very rich effect. A striped silk scarf was tied round her waist: neither draws nor stockings were worn by her; and her pretty little bare feet were slipped into scarlet morocco slippers edged with gold twist, and having heels as high as those which rendered our great-grandmothers si grandement ridicules. Her coiffure was the most complicated part of her dress, being composed of two handkerchiefs, one crimson, the other yellow, put on not exactly like a turban, nor even like a fillet, but something between the two; and descending so low upon the forehead as merely to show a little of the parted hair, which was disposed in shining braids close to the eyebrows. This head-dress was enriched with velvet ornaments, embroidered in foil and gold, like those affixed to her corsage. The dresses of the other women of the family only differed in colour from the one I have described, with the exception of the younger sister of our hostess; who, being unmarried, wore her head uncovered, and her hair parted down the middle and hanging over her shoulders, braided into twenty or thirty small tresses. But the personal beauty of these fair Jewesses appeared to us much more

admirable than their costume; and, strange to say, it is a description of beauty quite distinct from the Jewish type. Nahon's wife has fine dark hazel eyes, with a complexion of the clearest red and white, and neither the full lips nor peculiar nostrils of her people, but something of what the Italians so expressively term simpatia in her blooming face; but her less brilliant-looking sister, with her fairer cheeks, soft blue eyes, dark eyelashes, and light brown hair, attracted the gentlemen's admiration in a superior degree.

ART. XIV. The Closing Events of the Campaign in China; the Operations in the Yang-Tze-Kiang; and Treaty of Nanking. By Capt. GRANVILLE G. LOCH, R.N. Murray.

NOT one of the publications written by persons who sided with the British during the recent campaign in China have been destitute of merit as books, each of them contributing its share of information concerning the people and country of the Celestials. The great interest which the war excited has been remarkably well met and kept up by the writers, and their works have, with hardly an exception, fulfilled the pretensions of the title pages. We think that Capt. Loch has been as successful as any in the list, narrating and describing clearly and briefly what he witnessed, and in a manly style expressing his sentiments. Indeed, he handles the pen with superior skill, affording at the same time many engaging evidences both as respects his head and his heart. To be sure his opinions and deductions are not always in unison with the views of most of the writers; but what he states in the way of facts and description is done in an unaffected and graphic manner, so that the reader finds himself in a condition to form a distinct judgment from the account; and hence it is that, although much that is told has repeatedly before been made familiar to the public, yet he adds considerably to our conceptions of the Chinese character and to our acquaintanceship with individuals, as well as to the lively pictures already possessed of modes of life and particular localities. We need not look for a better example of graphic and pleasant description than where the novelty is the busy scene which Singapore Harbour presents to the stranger.

At day-dawn when the sky receives its first bright tints from the rising sun, and the morning mist yet shrouds the marshes and hangs about the damp verdure, the harbour is alive with boats and resounding with the noisy hum of awakened crowds;--the long low canoe of the Malay, propelled by twenty or thirty paddles, each stroke accompanied by their peculiar cry; punts, the undoubted progeny of the mother junks, conveying to the shore the Chinese mariner with his fan and umbrella; the sanpans, with their clean matted seats and plantain-leaf awnings, "waiting for passengers, and promiscuously manned by the Hindoo, the Moor, the Malay, or the

Arab, the wild native of Borneo or Amboyna, Madura or the more independent and manly inhabitant of Bali; the unwieldy junk herself, with painted eyes, which are presumed to guide it in safety clear of shoals and dangers, its large masts without rigging, mat sail, high-peaked stern (not unlike ours of the fifteenth century) bedaubed with flying dragons, painted devils, and proverbs, and the poop entirely occupied by the indispensable jos, disgorging scores of chattering Chinese: boats laden with fruit of every description, amongst which pineapples predominate, arriving from distant creeks, ready for the morning market; and the light fishing canoe, with its patient occupant, who will sit for hours under the shade of his light grass hat, are amongst the many novelties that attract the attention of the stranger.

The events of the campaign which form the subject of the gallant Captain's volume, are those which occurred during the last four months of its history, viz. from April to August 1842. Consequently the siege of Chin-Kiang-Foo figures in the book. We had before heard much of the horrors of this affair, but never obtained such a clear perception of what the general butchery of the enemy must have been, not only in combat, but by murderous and suicidal hands in the moment of despair. On entering one house Capt. Loch beheld "twenty bodies of women and young girls, some hanging, others extended upon the floor;" and all had either killed themselves, or been destroyed by their relatives. Every second house, he declares, contained self immolated bodies. As our troops marched along the walls for the first time in the resistlessness of their attack, how horror-struck must every soul have been that did not savagely thirst for blood, on discovering this result of the war and of victory," old men, women, and children, cutting each others throats, and drowning themselves in dozens." The Captain adds that no one of the panic-seized people attempted or appeared to have any inclination to save the poor wretches, regarding them with no more notice "than they would a dead horse carried through the streets of London to the kennel." From this and other things witnessed, our author pronounces the Chinese to be hard-hearted, the most indifferent to human suffering, and coldly cruel. He thus characterises them in one passage:

They are curious beings: with an outward placidity of temper, and the good humour of amiable people, they possess the hardness of heart and unforgiving nature of the Moor. From all that I hear, as a nation they are without virtue, deep feeling, or dignity of character. Sir Thomas Herbert told me, that after battering down forts and houses, and killing hundreds at Amoy, the boats of the Chinese were alongside his ship with supplies, before the guns were secured, to obtain what they prize before any good sentiment or moral obligation-profit and gain.

Capt. Loch will have it that the flowery people in many instances displayed great courage and bravery, (recklessness and the madness

of despair would perhaps be the better way of characterising the impulsive principle and behaviour; and on this ground, as well as from their aptitude and cleverness as imitators, is convinced that should we wage another war with them, victory will not be so easily achieved, and therefore the horrors will be greater and the bloodshed still more terrific. But what an amount of dreadful things does the volume present during the closing scenes of the late campaign. Surely never did war appear in a more revolting and ghastly form; and how awful must be the responsibility of that government and people who hurry to seize the sword, to avenge their supposed wrongs, and to humble an enemy! Let us present one picture more of the terrors and the destruction, the hatred and revenge, the unmitigated scenes of self-slaughter and family massacre that the siege of Chin- · Kiang-Foo involved. Could any thing that ever occurred be paral-. leled with what we now read?

I went with two soldiers of the 18th down a street to the right, to a large house, which I concluded belonged to a Tartar of consequence: we burst the door and entered. Never shall I forget the sight of misery that there

met our view.

After we had forced our way over piles of furniture, placed to barricade the door, we entered an open court strewed with rich stuffs and covered with clotted blood; and upon the steps leading to the "hall of ancestors" there were two bodies of youthful Tartars, cold and stiff, much alike, apparently brothers. Having gained the threshold of their abode, they had died where they had fallen, from the loss of blood. Stepping over these bodies, we entered the hall, and met, face to face, three women seated, a mother and two daughters; and at their feet lay two bodies of elderly men, with their throats cut from ear to ear, their senseless heads resting upon the feet of their relations. To the right were two young girls, beautiful and delicate, crouching over, and endeavouring to conceal, a living soldier...

I stopped, horror-struck at what I saw. I must have betrayed my feelings by my countenanee, as I stood spell-bound to the spot. The expression of cold unutterable despair depicted on the mother's face changed to the violent workings of scorn and hate, which at last burst forth in a paroxysm of invective, afterwards in floods of tears, which apparently, if anything could, relieved her. She came close to me, and seized me by the arm, and with clenched teeth and deadly frown pointed to the bodies-to her daugh.... ters to her yet splendid house, and to herself; then stepped back a pace, and with firmly-closed hands, and in a hoarse and husky voice, I could see by her gestures spoke of her misery-of her hate, and, I doubt not, of revenge. It was a scene that one could not bear long; consolation was useless; expostulations from me vain. I attempted by signs to explain, offered her my services, but was spurned. I endeavoured to make her comprehend that, however great her present misery, it might be in her unprotected state a hundred-fold increased; that if she would place herself under my guidance, I would pass her through the city gates in safety into the open country, where, doubtless, she would meet many of the fugitives; but the poor