of letter-press placing before our eyes, with the brilliant minuteness
of a richly-coloured and highly-finished painting, men, things, and
scenes characteristic of Spain. Amongst these, the sketch of the
muleteer, that errant descendant of the old Morisco carriers, is full of
life; and we defy the brush of the most cunning artist to bring the man,
in all his peculiarities, more vividly before us than is done by Mr.
Ford's vigorous and graceful pen and ink touches. We see the long line
of tall mules, with dusty flanks and well-poised burdens, winding their
way over some rugged sierra, or across a weary _despoblado_, their gay
worsted head-gear nodding in the sunbeams, the tinkle of their
innumerable bells mingling with the mournful song of their conductor, to
which, when the latter, weary of striding beside his beasts, mounts
aloft upon the bales for a temporary rest, is added the monotonous thrum
of a guitar. The song is as unceasing as the bells, unless when
interrupted by a pull at the wine _bota_, or by the narration of some
wild story of bandit cruelty or contrabandist daring. "The Spanish
muleteer is a fine fellow; he is intelligent, active, and enduring; he
braves hunger and thirst, heat and cold, mud and dust; he works as hard
as his cattle, never robs or is robbed; and whilst his betters in this
land put off every thing till to-morrow, except bankruptcy, _he_ is
punctual and honest." Mr. Ford's book will hardly find much favour in
the country of which it treats. It tells too many home truths. We have
heard his "Hand-book" found fault with by Spaniards, although it was
evident they were puzzled where to attack him, and equally so that their
hyper-critical censure of certain trifling inaccuracies, real or
imaginary, was merely a mode of venting their vexation at the
shrewdness, wit, and delicious impertinence with which he shows up the
national vices and foibles. He dives into the most secret recesses of
the Spanish character, and whilst admitting its good points, probes its
weakness with an unsparing hand. No people in the world entertain such
an arrogant overstrained good opinion of themselves and their country as
Spaniards. To hear them refer to Spain, one would imagine it to be the
first kingdom in the world, combining the advantages of all the most
civilized and flourishing countries in Europe. We here speak of the
masses; of course there is an enlightened and clear-sighted minority,
that sees and deplores its