"Eugenia," who may be either his washerwoman or his grandmother, although he evidently makes her by implication "his mistress." wish, notwithstanding, that he had let us a little more into this "loveaffair," for

"Of all the strains which mewing minstrels sing,

The lover's one for me!-I could expire

To hear a man with bristles on his chin,
Sing soft with upturn'd eye and arched brows,
That talk of trickling tears that never fall."

Leaving "Eugenia" somewhat uncourteously to shift for herself,
Poetica surgit

Tempestas

I

he brews a storm in his wash-hand basin, which lulls into "O Madeira, Madeira, O thou gem of the ocean! thou paradise of the Atlantic!" which, with a little numerical assistance from the "sick scholar in the adjoining cabin," and his digits, might arrogate the title of " prosaic poetry;" but which, wanting that aid, must I fear be set down as "poetic prose"-(thou art too poetical, boy-thou must not be so- -thou must leave poets, young novice, thou must)— "I have no heart," he says, (scribbling, be it remembered, all the time,)" to take up my pen to write of the days (FOUR! by the Almanack!) which I spent in thee," &c. &c.—" I did not choose any of the gay and luxurious houses," &c. &c.-" I admired, like all the world, their perfect elegance," &c. &c.-" but they did not fill my heart with that fondness which I felt for one simple mansion at Camacha," &c. &c.-" I often hear the brawling brook at night, and think myself seated on the bench of green turf, drinking that [what?] cool bottle of wine, with a view of-Rosa!!!" &c. &c.

sim

The author had no power of choice-he was admitted under the same roof with the bishop, as a matter of course, and much in the same manner as his band and surplice and other appendages!—he did not, as he implies, and I am assured, live at Camacha in a ple mansion of delight," but in a plain old-fashioned house in the centre of the city, and so far from the Madeira houses being "gay, luxurious, and perfectly elegant," they are notoriously the contrary; there is not an elegant building of any description in the whole island!

"The hospitality of the English merchants is princely; you cannot bring too many; [bishops?] you cannot stay too long. The houses of all are open to the guests of each, and I never met with less kindness from Stoddart, because I had shown a preference for Gordon! I am loth to believe that they look upon us only as customers, although they lead vehemently into temptation by Malmsey, Tinta, and Sercial, and bid you remember the old house when they shake hands with you at parting."

What "the English merchants" (many thanks for their disinterested hospitality to me when a sojourner in their land) may think of this, I know not; but to me it appears a piece of as arrogant impertinence as ever was penned that one who was admitted to their tables as the "hanger-on" of a great man, should treat as butchers and bakers, hungry after custom, and civil! under disappointment! gentlemen who gratuitously fed and lodged him-that he should

taunt them as "princely" at the moment that he is sneering at them as tradely-that he should presume to talk of "his preference," which consisted in eating and drinking at their cost-and with all his loathing," wish his readers to believe (how truly I do not pretend to determine) that "they do look upon us only as customers, (a word "to choke a daw withal")—that he should not only do all this, but stigmatize, and ridicule by name! the most conspicuous of his dupes! and escape (hitherto) with impunity, is a memorable example of either contempt or forbearance!

"There is a generality of intelligence, an independence of spirit, and a courteousness of manner about those (English merchants) whom I saw, which seemed the effect and the symptom of great opulence and unimpeachable credit. They have no huckstering, shopkeeping, agency taint; they are true descendants (I was going to say remnants) of that grand character, the English merchant of former times."

"Well said, my noble Scot-if speaking truth

In this fine age were not thought flattery."

"The English merchants" may determine whether it be truth or flattery, and our readers may contrast it with what was quoted before. This will be most merciful to all parties!!

"Their (the merchants') information indeed with regard to certain islands," &c. &c. &c. (Here follows what may either be construed into a gentle let-down to "their generality of intelligence," &c. &c. or into an insinuation that they palm upon the public wine from the Azores and Canaries, as "genuine Madeira." I will, however, generously give him the choice of whichever horn of the dilemma he may prefer for his impalement, leaving his friends Stoddart and Gordon either to release him, or give the coup de grace.)

"The town is by no means so dirty as the Portuguese like; but the English residents are so influential here, that they have been able to exercise a tyranny of cleanliness, which the natives sullenly endure at the hazard of catching colds." The English have no influence whatever in the most insignificant act of police or government; they live passively under the protection of the Portuguese laws, and in the enjoyment of peculiar privileges as British subjects.

"Some nice houses, &c. &c. and in particular there is a beatorio, or make-believe nunnery on the north side, the windows of which were literally crammed full of the meek faces of some score probationers for single blessedness."

This is a common Foundling-hospital for females, and one of its inmates was married just before the author's visit! Is it under this roof-this beatorio-that the lady dwells, to whom he tells us he is engaged to be married when they both arrive (a postponement sine die I fear) at years of discretion!!

"The friars looked wretched; one poor fellow without shoes or shirt, moved my compassion to such a degree [the degree of tenpence!] that I conferred a pistorine on him. He seemed as grateful as if I had taught him to read his Breviary, which he confessed to me he could not do."

The friars are bad enough, heaven knows! all over the world they are the very worst of those "fruges consumere nati ;" but even

the devil is entitled to his due. The man who moved so extravagantly our author's compassion, is not, and never was a friar! he is called O Irmao Terceiro; he wears an uncouth habit, frequents churches, and looks sanctified, and is by trade-a sow-gelder!!!-he is a poor, ignorant, inoffensive creature, and would be more thankful for a dollar than " the gift of tongues."

"The Portuguese ladies in Madeira never wash their faces,"

["My lady's prattle filter'd through her woman."]

"and complain that the English spoil their fine complexions by too much water. Dry-rubbing is the thing!""

Now, before Jove, admirable! by Phoebus, my most facetious rascal, I could eat water-gruel with thee for a month for this jest! my dear rogue !!

"In returning more quietly through the town, I saw ! [saw !!!] that happen to others which had not happened to me." (Here follows a page of description of some midshipmen riding over the Bishop of Madeira, Dom Frei Joaquim, &c. in his palanquin.) Saw!! the Bishop of Madeira, Dom Frei Joaquim de Menezes Ataide! ridden over by midshipmen!!!-saw! a man ridden over in Madeira, who was at the moment, and had been for nearly six years! in Portugal!!! However, that I may not be suspected of having recourse to a quibble, and inferring (for the inference is palpable) a falsehood, where a blunder only has been committed, I will state positively that the present Bishop of Madeira NEVER was ridden over by any one; and that there is no mistake about the NAME, because it is identified with that which the patron of the poet Medina actually bore-the present Bishop never patronized the writer of the "Georgida"— the "Cavalheiro da real ordem da Torre e Espada," to whom it is dedicated, still (I believe) resides there, and as (I understand) he is somewhat addicted to ride in a palanquin, and decorate his person with an amphibious sort of ornament, may perchance have been trodden under foot by the "younkers" of the Herald in the guise of a bishop! (N. B. I find upon inquiry, that this will not bear even the charitable construction which I endeavoured to put upon it-that it is incontrovertibly one of the numerous family of facts! for which the author is "indebted to his imagination," and that no one above the rank of a merchant has ever, in the memory of the present generation, been TRAMPLED upon by a visitor!!)

"I called upon the Governor, Dom Mancel de Portugal, who has the credit of being a bastard slip of some of the Royal Family; he is a little, prim gentleman, and talks French, besides his vernacular."

The author called upon the Governor as one of the attendants upon the Bishop of Barbadoes; in his individual capacity he would not have had that honour! The Governor of Madeira is own and legitimate brother to the Marquis of Valencia; whether the family may have the same original claim to illustrious birth as those of St. Albau's and Grafton, I am ignorant: would he dare to call either of those peers of the realm "" a bastard! they are neither more nor less so than Dom Manoël de Portugal.

6

"Immediately before me [at the primeira vista of the Curral] an enormous chasm opened [it has been open for ages!] of two miles, or more in length, a mile in breadth, and some four thousand feet! in

depth. The bottom was, &c. &c.—with a nunnery and its church. Note-[by the author]-I believe this nunnery was intended as an asylum for the females of all the religious houses in the island, in casé of invasion or other danger."

Of the descriptive part of this indescribable view I shall say no2 thing; the length is, as he most truly and correctly states, two miles, or more!!! how he contrived to impose a mile as the limit to its breadth, the eagle who conveyed his line can alone explain; the actual measured depth approaches to sixteen hundred feet!!! a modicum of difference not worth the attention of an 66 imaginative writer," although involving an impossibility according to the existing laws of nature; there neither is, nor ever was, a nunnery at its bottom," or within leagues; his note therefore is purely gratuitous.

Perhaps also you may see there [at the convent of S. Clara,] poor Maria, if she be not dead! if she comes, speak to her very kindly, [none but a brute would do otherwise,] and give my love to her; but you do not know me, [indeed!] or poor Maria either. Her history [here follow at full the names of her parents; and other unfeeling, unmanly exposures, of the privacy of domestic life, which are by universal consent respected, and considered entitled to respect; and which I will not give further publicity to by quoting.] "She was disliked by her father and mother from the first years of her infancy; her brothers neglected her in obedience to their parents; and her sisters, who were very ugly, hated her for her beauty. Every one else in Feinchal and the neighbourhood loved her, and she had many offers of marriage at thirteen years of age, which the little maideu laughed at, and forwarded to her elder sisters. Amongst other arrangements for the purchase of commissions for two of his sons, and for giving portions to two of his daughters-determined to sacrifice his best and sweetest child Maria, &c. &c." One of the first acts of the Cortes was to order the doors of all religious houses to be thrown open; S. Clara was visited by friends and strangers, some to see the church, some to see the gardens, and some to see the nuns. Amongst others, a Portuguese officer, at that time quartered in Feinchal, saw, and fell in love (of course) with Maria. He was a handsome youth, of good family. A nun is emancipated from her parents, and the law declared the vow of celibacy null and void. The marriage was determined on, &c. and the wedding-day fixed. Maria fell ill, &c. &c. The wedding was fatally postponed, &c. &c. Maria rose from her bed of sickness to return to her cell and her rosary. Her lengthened ringlets were again mercilessly shorn, &c. &c. Maria put her hands through the grating, took one of mine, and made me feel a thin gold ring (she wears several) on her little finger, and then pressing my hand closely, said in an accent which I still hear [with "the brawling Camacha brook" as an accompaniment,]" trão, trão, trão, tinho dor do coracão." If this had been merely an attempt at the pathetic, with Sterne for a model, I should have smiled at the presumption, and pitied the failure; but it bears a very different character; it is an unjustifiable, ungenerous, wanton, act of cruelty towards a highly respectable family; it is outraging some of the best feelings of our nature, and deserves unqualified condemnation. Did the author never hear from the lips of "his relative," the

worthy bishop," as he stiles him, that blessed injunction, "Do to others as you would be done unto !!!") and has he in this instance put it into practice? How would he like to have his own "family records" dragged before the multitude? A late noble poet (with consummate bad taste, it must be acknowledged) accused one of "the name of having married "a milliner of Bath," and the hue and cry which it occasioned has hardly yet subsided. Surely he (the author) is not so pure a Christian, and so true an Englishman, as to lay the flattering unction to his soul," that being only Portuguese, and Catholics! their feelings are not entitled to respect, and their homes to sanctity!!! He will not either pretend that the enormity of the act (one of every day occurrence, and to a Catholic a meritorious one, however accomplished) prompted the exposure, for a very different tone pervades it; in that case, too, names were not required; reputations and feelings might have been spared; it would also have occurred to him, that a much more stern and severe moral lesson, a much more palpable and unwarrantable abuse of the unnatural system of shutting up our fellow creatures in convents, might have been brought before the public in the case of the inmate of an adjoining cell, the natural daughter of an Englishman! and a Protestant!! and who, as a good orthodox Athanasian Protestant, knew that she was thus condemned to perpetual incarceration in this world, and (according to his creed,) to eternal damnation in the next!!! He has not even (the least he could have done) adhered to the truth. The nun in question was persuaded by her mother to take the veil, by what means, or from what motives, are known to her God and her conscience; let us not judge them; her sisters are not ugly, and could not therefore have hated her on that account; they are still unmarried, and portionless! this was not therefore the object of our sacrifice; she had not a single offer at the age of thirteen, and although "the little maiden" (how pathetic!) might (in that case) have laughed at, she could not have "forwarded them to her elder sisters, for she hap pens to be the eldest and first-born!! of the family!!!" "Commissions" in the Portuguese service are not to be bought; were they, however, as marketable commodities as church-livings, Maria's fate would have remained uninfluenced, for neither of her brothers is in either the army or navy!!! The Cortes never either committed or contemplated so absurd an act as that of "throwing open the doors of all religious houses;" and S. Clara never was entered by either friends, strangers, or lovers! The " vow of celibacy" never was declared null and void; "the marriage" never was determined on! the "wedding-day" never was fixed! Maria, I can assure our readers, still retains (or did a few months back) her ringlets, and so far from being dead!!! is in excellent health and spirits, and ready to flirt with any or all of them!!! In truth, the whole "affair" was neither more nor less than a little of this innocent passe-temps with a midshipman of the Portuguese brig of war, the Tagus!!!

I now take my leave. I am a perfect stranger to the author, and he is equally unknown to me. I am quite unconnected with either the Portuguese natives or English residents of the island of Madeira;