POETRY. them during a different condition of things. 2. As to the account for the singular Flora which is now native there. POETRY. LAYS FOR THE LABOURER. Hail honest workman! Hail to thee. For such is love's command. Or robes of courtly pride; Who than the husk doth not e'en prize The corn-blade twice as well? As husk, then, outward gear doth seem Among the dwellers in the silent fields GRACE The natural heart is touched, and public way Thy spirit's inmost cell; Was Christ in this world's rank-not more. In ages long before. In this we're equals, workman brave; DARLING. BY WORDSWORTH. Whom, since her birth on bleak Northumbria's coast, Do not unperishable record find Save in the rolls of heaven, where here may live A theme for angels, when they celebrate Has witnessed. Oh! that winds and waves could speak A maiden gentle, yet at duty's call, All night the storm had raged, nor ceased, nor When, as day broke, the maid, through misty air, Beating on one of those disastrous isles Half a vessel:-half-no more; the rest Had vanished, swallowed up with all that there Or thither throng'd for refuge. With quick glance Where every parting agony is hush'd, And hope and fear mix not in further strife. “But courage, father! let us out to sea- A few may yet be saved." The daughter's words, To launch the boat; and, with her blessing cheer'd, And inwardly sustain'd by silent prayer, Each grasps an oar, and, struggling, on they go— Here to allude and there surmount, they watch The billows lengthening, mutually cross'd True to the mark, They stem the current of that perilous gorge, Though the danger, as the wreck is neared, becomes In woman's shape! But why prolong the tale, That no one breathing should be left to perish, Breathes out from flock or couch, through pallid lips, Though young, so wise, though meek, so resolute)→→ SCIENCE. NOTES ON CLIMATE.--The effects of thorough draining or tile draining on the soil, as respects its fertility, have been very striking, extensive portions of land with a cold clayey subsoil which formerly produced little else but rushes and weeds, being now converted by this process into excellent grain-bearing fields. It is highly probable that this process, when it becomes, as it will do in time, almost universal over Britain, will also produce a marked effect upon the climate. It is well known that an uncultivated country with dense woods and large portions of the surface either covered with water, or in a stagnant marshy condition, retains more of the annual rain on its surface than a well cleared and well drained country. The consequence of this is a less amount of absorption of the sun's rays in the uncultivated country than in the cultivated, and of course a diminished temperature on the surface. The fall of rain may be much the same, but the evaporation is less, especially in the colder country, and the discharge by streams and rivers being impeded, the tendency is to an increased accumulation of surface moisture. In the cleared country again the surface of the soil absorbs the greatest proportion of the sun's rays, the evaporation is from the increased temperature more rapid, and the free flow of springs and rivers drains off the superfluous moisture to the sea. This drainage is so sudden that, as has been repeatedly remarked, our streams and rivers during heavy falls of rain rise higher and more rapidly now than they did in a less cultivated state of the country, because every declivity and every valley pours out by innumerable channels that moisture which under other circumstances would have been obstructed in its course. With this amelioration of soil and climate, which though apparently small in the main yet will be quite sufficient to produce a marked influence, we doubt not but many plants, and even animals, may in process of time be added to the list of native or acclimated species. A very few degrees of elevation of temperature over the whole year, but especially a slight amelioration of winter, would be found sufficient to promote this acclimatation. So that in process of time we do not despair of seeing our Scottish valleys rivalling even the finest of the English midland and southern counties. The complete drainage of the bogs of Ireland would no doubt produce a marked effect on the moist and dripping sky of that country, as well as on the condition of its human inhabitants. It would be curious to compare the temperature and the amount of rain occurring in certain localities in Scotland, a century or two back, with the amount in Here the annual average of rain has apparently diminished by 4.290 The second table exhibits the remarkable increase of the annual fall of rain as we proceed from the eastern side of the island to the western. This increase is general and constant throughout Britain, and is readily explained by the fact that the westerly winds come to our shores charged with moisture, and with an elevated temperature, whereas the easterly winds are of low tem perature and deficient in moisture. PRODUCTION OF SOILS.-A friend remarked to me, while we were contemplating a venerable and hoary ruin, in the mellow light of a still autumnal day, that he had discovered several different species of lichens covering the stones, and varying not only according to the different exposures of the walls, but according to the different kinds of stones of which the edifice was composed. It would appear that the walls of the ruin had originally been built by contributions of stones from different localities, at the distance of several miles from each other, and that these stones, differing somewhat in their nature and composition, still continued to be covered with species of lichens peculiar to each. This was an ingenious enough discovery, yet quite in accordance with the habits of nature-each plant and vegetable, however insignificant, has its own peculiar soil or locality, and there, when left to itself, it will delight to vegetate. Some like a deep rich soil-some a dry, and others a moist one-some take to the ditches and pools, while others are found on the tops of mountains, old walls, or even roofs of houses. It is thus with the lichen-thousands of the minute and almost invisible seeds of these are continually wafted about in the air, and whenever they meet with a rock or wall so old as almost to be returning to its original state of rock again, they fix their gluey and adhesive seeds to it, and spread out a circular vegetation all around, which in time covers the whole place, and imparts that light hoary grey, or soft yellow and reddish tint, so picturesque in rocks, and so expressive of associations of age in ruins erected by the piety or munificence of human beings who have themselves, centuries ago, mouldered into dust. It was curious to see these different stones, varying perhaps somewhat in their composition and texture, each clothed with its respective lichens, and here wearing the same livery which they would have done in their native quarries. The numerous and apparently insignificant tribe of lichens may be called the pioneers of vegetation, for it is to them in all probability that we owe the first formation of soil or vegetable mould, without which the more perfect kinds of plants and herbs will not grow. It is well known to botanists and practical agriculturists, that the pure earth alone will not support vegetation, even with the aid of copious moisture and air, but that a certain mixture of decayed vegetable matter is necessary for a vigorous and healthy growth. In the first ages of vegetation, then, and in the gradual extension of verdure over the globe, these simple and hardy plants must have been, and still are, the preparatory agents. It would appear that they are calculated to live and increase, and to derive sufficient nourishment from the bare rock, aided by moisture and air. To form an idea, then, of the gradual accumulation of soil, let us suppose a mass of matter thrown up in the ocean, consisting of hills and valleys of hard bare rock, composed of the usual carths of clay, lime, and quartz. By degrees the air and moisture begin to act upon their flinty and impenetrable surfaces, rendering these porous and friable. Innumerable seeds of lichens floated on the wind, take root in these, and soon overspread the whole with a hoary covering. In time, the parent plants decay, and are succeeded by innumerable successions of new onesthus a decomposed vegetable mould is gradually formed, which mingling with the earthy particles of the rocks that are also daily detached by exposure, a sufficient soil is at last formed, its depth being accelerated in particular spots by the wind sweeping down the friable dust into the hollows and plains. In process of time the germs of mosses (cryptogamic plants), carried by the air or water, spring up and decay successively in the new locadity, and thus add considerably to the depth of mould, till at last herbs of various kinds, and shrubs and trees, carried there by the agencies of the elements, by birds and men, spring up in profusion, and clothe the undulating surface with beautiful verdure. Thus, supposing certain central spots in the globe, where the Creator's agency first called animal and vegetable existences into being, we may easily conceive how this original stock increased, and multiplied, and spread, and still continues to spread, over the surface of the earth. Miscellaneous. ELECTRICAL GIRL.-The wonder of the day among the Parisians is a girl who is said to possess extraordinary electrical properties. She is a girl of thirteen years of age, and was employed in a thread glove manufactory as winder. One day; while at work with her companions, the reel on which she was winding the thread was suddenly projected from her. The circumstance excited surprise; the reel was replaced, when the same effect followed. The circumstance was talked of in the village, and the Cure informed of it. It was immediately conjectured that she was possessed with an evil spirit, and she was solemnly exorcised, but no good results followed. Doctors, too, visited her, but they could not fathom the cause of her condition. At last, she was sent from the country village where she resided, to Paris, and submitted to the scrutiny of the scavans of the academy. In presence of Arago, and others, a piece of paper was placed upon the edge of a table, which paper was immediately attracted by the left hand of the girl. She then, holding her apron in her hand, approached a cabinet, which was pushed back, although her apron scarcely touched it. She was next placed on a chair, with her feet on the ground, and immediately the chair was projected with violence against the wall, while the girl was thrown the other way. This experiment was repeated several times, and with the same results. M. Arago laid his hand upon the chair, to prevent its moving, but the force was too great for his resistance; and another gentleman having seated himself on a part of the chair, was thrown off as soon as the girl had also taken her seat. In another experiment the chair was held fast by two powerful men; but no sooner had the girl taken her seat in it, but it was forced into pieces. The mere contact of the girl's clothes made chairs, tables, and every thing else, fly from her like feathers. When the girl is isolated on a glass stool, the same effects do not take place. She experiences different sensations when the north and south poles of a magnet are respectively placed near her left hand-the north pole repelling her. When the electric effects take place from her body, she suffers great uneasiness, and her electric powers are greatest in the evening, after she has dined. Such is the notice of this human Gymnotus, gravely detailed as taking place before the members of the French Academy. We have heard of late so many things done by girls in the mesmeric and clairvoyance sciences, that we have even our doubts of this. We give the details, however, and let our readers judge for themselves. MODERN WITCH.-According to a statement in the Athenæum, there is a French witch, in the shape of a young and cunning girl, performing most wonderful cures among the nobility at the west end of London. She is both a sorceress and homoeopathist. She receives patients at her own lodgings, and also condescends to visit them at their houses. Fees flow in in abundance. Nor do we in the least wonder at this. The "delusions of the day," which we alluded to in some of our earlier numbers, are rankest among the rich, the idle, and the fanciful. NICE SENSE OF TOUCH IN THE BLIND.-Mr Sanderson, the blind mathematician, could distinguish with his hand, in a series of Roman medals, the true from the counterfeit, with unerring precision; and when he was present at the astronomical observations in the garden of his college, he was accustomed to perceive every cloud which passed over the sun. Dr Abercrombie mentions two instances related to him of blind men, who were much esteemed as judges of horses. One of them, in giving his opinion of a horse, declared him to be blind, though this had escaped the observation of several persons who had the use of their eyes, and who were with some difficulty convinced of it. Being asked to give an account of the principle on which he had decided, he said it was by the sound of the horse's step in walking, which implied a peculiar and unusual caution in his manner of putting down his feet. The other individual, in similar circumstances, pronounced a horse to be blind of one eye, though this had also escaped the observation of those concerned. When he was asked to explain the facts on which he formed his judgment, he said he felt the one eye to be colder than the other. The late Dr Moyse, the blind philosopher, could distinguish a black dress on his friends by its smell; and this seems to be good evidence that blind persons have acquired the power of distinguishing colours by the touch. The blind, in walking along crowded streets, are enabled to avoid posts, and other objects, by a fine sense of the concussion of the air in approaching them. Dr Rush relates of two blind young men, natives of the city of Philadelphia, that they knew when they approached a post in walking across a street, by a peculiar sound which the ground under their feet emitted in the neighbourhood of the post, and that they could tell the names of a number of tame pigeons, with which they amused themselves in a little garden, by only hearing them fly over their heads. SLEEP AND DREAMS.-Sleep is the temporary repose of the voluntary and active powers. It is quite essential to existence. Deprive a person of sleep, and the body sinks under the privation more rapidly than under famine. Indeed, no circumstances, however urgent, will prevent the approaches of sleep for any length of time, and under the severest calamities. Even while in the hour of battle, or when suffering from extreme fatigue, or cold, or hunger, sleep steals upon us to steep the senses in oblivion. Healthy sleep is so profound as to resemble, in all that regards selfconsciousness, death itself. We are unconscious of the exact moment when we pass into sleep, but occasionally it happens that immediately afterwards we are awakened by a convulsive start, which is caused by the sudden breaking in of the powers of volition when as yet but newly and imperfectly lulled to rest. Sometimes, however, the mind exerts its activity, though it is but a partial exertion, and hence dreams, or the thoughts of sleep, are made up of all incongruous associations, such as thoughts of the past day, and incidents of long bygone years-scenes of actual experience, and others totally imaginary, being all mixed up and jumbled together. Yet in sleep the vital functions are carried on as usual-the heart beats, the lungs play, and digestion goes on, though all these processes are somewhat more feeble than in the waking state. Dr Gregory mentions of himself, that, having on one occasion gone to bed with a vessel of hot water at his feet, he dreamt of walking up the crater of Mount Etna, and of He had at an early feeling the ground warm under him. period of his life visited Mount Vesuvius, and actually felt a strong sensation of warmth in his feet when walking up the side of the crater, but it was remarkable that the dream was not of Vesuvius, but of Etna, of which he had only read Brydon's description. On another occasion he dreamt of spending a winter at Hudson's Bay, and of suffering He found that he much distress from the intense frost. had thrown off the bed-clothes in his sleep, and a few days before he had been reading a particular account of the state of the colonies in that country during the winter. The following, also related on the authority of Dr Gregory, affords the singular circumstance of two individuals dreaming simultaneously the same thing, and also illustrates the curious fact that in a second or two of time a dream may comprehend the idea of the actions of many hours. It happened to a gentleman and his wife, at a period when there was an alarm of French invasion, and almost every male in Edinburgh was a soldier. All things had been arranged in expectation of the landing of the enemy, the first notice of which was to be given by a gun from the castle, and this was to be followed by a chain of signals calculated to alarm the country in all directions. The gentleman to whom the dream occurred, and who had been a most zealous volunteer, was in bed between two and three o'clock in the morning, when he dreamt of hearing the signal gun. He was immediately at the castle, witnessed the proceedings for displaying the signals, and saw and heard a great bustle over the town, from troops and artillery assembling. At this time he was roused by his wife, who awoke in a fright in consequence of a similar dream, connected with much noise and the landing of an enemy, and concluding with the death of a particular friend of her husband's who had served with him as a volunteer during the late war. The origin of this remarkable concurrence was ascertained in the morning to be the noise produced in the room above by the fall of a pair of tongs, which had been left in some awkward position in support of a clothes' screen. We have often heard, that in some particular individuals dreams could be produced by whispering some incidents into their ears while asleep, but would scarcely have credited such reports, had not the following case been related by Dr Gregory, as he received it from a gentleman who witnessed it. The subject of the experiment was an officer in the expedition to Louisburgh in 1758, who had this peculiarity in so remarkable a degree, that his companions in the transport were in the constant habit of amusing themselves at his expense. They could produce in him any kind of dream, by whispering into his ear, especially if this was done by a friend with whose voice he was familiar. At one time they conducted him through the whole progress of a quarrel, which ended in a duel, and when the parties were supposed to be met, a pistol was put into his hand, which he fired, and was awakened by the report. On another occasion, they found him asleep on the top of a locker or bunker, in the cabin, where they made him believe he had fallen overboard, and exhorted him to save himself by swimming. He immediately imitated all the motions of swimming. They then told him that a shark was pursuing him, and entreated him to dive for his life. He instantly did so with such force as to throw himself entirely from the locker upon the cabin floor, by which he was much After the landing bruised, and was awakened of course. of the army at Louisburgh, his friends found him one day asleep in his tent, and evidently much annoyed by the cannonading. They then made him believe that he was engaged, when he expressed great fear, and showed an evident disposition to run away. Against this they remonstrated, but at the same time increased his fears by imitating the groans of the wounded and dying, and when he asked, as he often did, who was down, they named his particular friends. At last, they told him that the man next himself in the line had fallen, when he instantly sprung from his bed, rushed out of the tent, and was roused from his danger and his dream together by falling over the tentropes. A remarkable circumstance in this case was, that after these experiments he had no distinct recollection of his dreams, but only a confused feeling of oppression and fatigue, and used to tell his friends that he was sure they A similar case is had been playing some trick upon him. related by Smellie, the subject of which was a medical student at the university of Edinburgh. Many curious cases of dreams are given by Dr Abercrombie, where they seem to coincide in a remarkable manner with facts that immediately afterwards happened to the individual. Yet the same acute observer remarks, that all these may be readily accounted for by natural causes, such as previous impressions and associations on the mind. Indeed, there are no grounds for supposing that dreams are ever supernatural or prophetic. The multiplicity of incongruous fancies that come across the dreaming brain rarely find any real corresponding parallel in existence. For one dream that happens to correspond with an actual event, there are ten thousand that are perfectly inexplicable. And if supernatural communications were still necessary for mankind, as we are expressly told they no longer are, we would have the utmost difficulty to select those from the mass of fancies which come like shadows to depart. A credulous attention to dreams then, by leading the judgment astray, may cause infinite error and confusion. THE BOOKSELLER OF LOGRONO.-About the middle of the sixteenth century, there resided one Francisco Alvarez in the city of Logrono, the chief town of Rioja, a province which borders on Aragon. He was a man above the middle age, sober, reserved, and in general absorbed in thought; he lived near the great church, and obtained a livelihood by selling printed books and manuscripts in a small shop. He was a very learned man, and was continually reading in the books which he was in the habit of selling, and some of these books were in foreign tongues and characters, so foreign indeed, that none but himself and some of his friends, the canons, could understand them: he was much visited by the clergy, who were his principal customers, and took much pleasure in listening to his discourse. He had been a considerable traveller in his youth, and had wandered through all Spain, visiting the various proIt was likewise vinces and the most remarkable cities. said that he had visited Italy and Barbary. He was, however, invariably silent with respect to his travels, and whenever the subject was mentioned to him, the gloom and melancholy increased which usually clouded his features. One day in the commencement of autumn, he was visited by a priest with whom he had long been intimate, and for whom he had always displayed a greater respect and liking than for any other acquaintance. The ecclesiastic found him even more sad than usual, and there was a haggard paleness upon his countenance which alarmed his visitor. The good priest made affectionate inquiries respecting the health of his friend, and whether anything had of late occurred to give him uneasiness; adding, at the same time, that he had long suspected that some secret lay heavy upon his mind, which he now conjured him to reveal, as life was uncertain, and it was very possible that he might be quickly summoned from earth into the presence of his Maker. The bookseller continued for some time in gloomy meditation, till at last he broke silence in these words:-"It is true I have a secret which weighs heavy upon my mind, and which I am still loath to reveal, but I have a presentiment that my end is approaching, and that a heavy misforwill therefore unburtune is about to fall upon this city: den myself, for it were now a sin to remain silent. "I ain, as you are aware, a native of this town, which I first left when I went to acquire an education at Salamanca. I continued there until I became a licentiate, when I quitted the university and strolled through Spain, supporting myself in general by touching the guitar, according to the practice of penniless students; my adventures were numerous, and I frequently experienced great poverty. Once, whilst making my way from Toledo to Andalusia through the wild mountains, I fell in with and was made captive by a band of the people called Gitanos, or wandering Egyptians. They in general lived amongst these wilds, and plundered or murdered every person whom they met. I should probably have been assassinated by them, but my skill in music perhaps saved my life. I continued with them a considerable time, till at last they persuaded me to become one of them, whereupon I was inaugurated into their society with many strange and horrid ceremonies, and having thus become a Gitano, I went with them to plunder and assassinate upon the roads. "The Count or head man of these Gitanos had an only daughter, about my own age; she was very beautiful, but, at the same time, exceedingly strong and robust; this Gitana was given to me as a wife or cadjee, and I lived with her several years, and she bore me children. "My wife was an arrant Gitana, and in her all the wickedness of her race seemed to be concentrated. At last her father was killed in an affray with the troopers of the Hermandad, whereupon my wife and myself succeeded to the authority which he had formerly exercised in the tribe. We had at first loved each other, but at last the Gitano life, with its accompanying wickedness, becoming hateful to my eyes, my wife, who was not slow in perceiving my altered disposition, conceived for me the most deadly hatred. Apprehending that I meditated withdrawing myself from the society, and perhaps betraying the secrets of the band, she formed a conspiracy against me, and, at one time being opposite the Moorish coast, I was seized and bound by the other Gitanos, conveyed across the sea, and delivered as a slave into the hands of the Moors. "I continued for a long time in slavery in various parts of Morocco and Fez, until I was at length redeemed from my state of bondage by a missionary friar who paid my ransom. With him I shortly after departed for Italy, of which he was a native. In that country I remained some years, until a longing to revisit my native land seized me, when I returned to Spain, and established myself here, where I have since lived by vending books, many of which I brought from the strange lands which I visited. I kept my history, however, a profound secret, being afraid of exposing myself to the laws in force against the Gitanos, to which I should instantly become amenable were it once known that I had at any time been a member of this detestable sect. 'My present wretchedness, of which you have demanded the cause, dates from yesterday; I had been on a short journey to the Augustine convent, which stands on the plain in the direction of Saragossa, carrying with me an Arabian book, which a learned monk was desirous of seeing. Night overtook me ere I could return. I speedily lost my way, and wandered about until I came near a dilapidated 'edifice with which I was acquainted; I was about to proceed in the direction of the town, when I heard voices within the ruined walls; I listened, and recognised the language of the abhorred Gitanos; I was about to fly, when a word arrested me. It was Drao, which in their tongue signifies the horrid poison with which this race are in the habit of destroying the cattle; they now said that the men of Logrono should rue the Drao which they had been casting. I heard no more, but fled. What increased my fear was, that in the words spoken, I thought I recognised the peculiar jargon of my own tribe; I repeat, that I believe some horrible misfortune is overhanging this city, and that my own days are numbered." The priest, having conversed with him for some time upon particular points of the history that he had related, took his leave, advising him to compose his spirits, as he saw no reason why he should indulge in such gloomy forebodings. The very next day a sickness broke out in the town of Logrono. It was one of a peculiar kind; unlike most others, it did not arise by slow and gradual degrees, but at once appeared in full violence, in the shape of a terrific epidemic. Dizziness in the head was the first symptom; then convulsive retchings, followed by a dreadful struggle between life and death, which generally terminated in favour of the grim destroyer. The bodies, after the spirit which animated them had taken flight, were frightfully swollen, and exhibited a dark blue colour, chequered with crimson spots. Nothing was heard within the houses or the streets, but groans of agony; no remedy was at hand, and the powers of medicine were exhausted in vain upon this terrible pest; so that within a few days the greatest part of the inhabi tants of Logrono had perished. The bookseller had not been seen since the commencement of this frightful visita tion. Once, at the dead of night, a knock was heard at the door of the priest, of whom we have already spoken; the priest himself staggered to the door, and opened it,-he was the only one who remained alive in the house, and was himself slowly recovering from the malady which had destroyed all the other inmates; a wild spectral-looking figure presented itself to his eye-it was his friend Alvarez. Both went into the house, when the bookseller, glancing gloomily on the wasted features of the priest, exclaimed "You too, I see, amongst others, have cause to rue the Drao which the Gitanos have cast. Know," he continued, "that in order to accomplish a detestable plan, the fountains of Logrono have been poisoned by emissaries of the roving bands, who are now assembled in the neighbourhood. On the first appearance of the disorder, from which I happily escaped by tasting the water of a private fountain, which I possess in my own house, I instantly recognised the effects of the poison of the Gitanos, brought by their ancestors from the isles of the Indian sea; and instantly suspecting their intentions, I disguised myself as a Gitano, and went forth in the hope of being able to act as a spy upon their actions. I have been successful, and am at present thoroughly acquainted with their designs. They intended, from the first, to sack the town, as soon as it should have beem emptied of its defenders. "Mid-day, to-morrow, is the hour in which they have determined to make the attempt. There is no time to be lost; let us, therefore, warn those of our townsmen who still survive, in order that they may make preparations for their defence." Whereupon the two friends proceeded to the chief magistrate, who had been but slightly affected by the disorder; he heard the tale of the bookseller with horror and astonishment, and instantly took the best measures possible for frustrating the designs of the Gitanos; all the men capable of bearing arms in Logrono were assembled, and weapons of every description put in their hands. By the advice of the bookseller all the gates of the town were shut, with the exception of the principal one; and the little band of defenders, which barely amounted to sixty men, was stationed in the great square, to which, he said, it was the intention of the Gitanos to penetrate in the first instance, and then dividing themselves into various parties, to sack the place. The bookseller was, by general desire, constituted leader of the guardians of the town. It was considerably past noon; the sky was overcast, and tempest clouds, fraught with lightning and thunder, were hanging black and horrid over the town of Logrono. The little troop, resting on their arms, stood awaiting the arrival of their unnatural enemies; rage fired their minds as they thought of the deaths of their fathers, their sons, and their dearest relatives, who had perished, not by the hand of God, but, like infected cattle, by the hellish arts of Egyptian sorcerers. They longed for their appearance, determined to wreak upon them a bloody revenge; not a word was uttered, and profound silence reigned around, only interrupted by the occasional muttering of the thunder clouds. Suddenly, Alvarez, who had been intently listening, raised his hand with a significant gesture; presently, a sound was heard-a rustling like the waving of trees, or the rushing of distant water; it gradually increased, and seemed to proceed from the narrow street which led from the principal gate into the square. All eyes were turned in that direction. That night there was repique or ringing of bells in the towers of Logrono, and the few priests who had escaped from the pestilence sang litanies to God and the Virgin for the salvation of the town from the hands of the heathen. The attempt of the Gitanos had been most signally defeated, and the great square and the street were strewn with their corpses. Oh! what frightful objects: there lay grim men more black than mulattos, with fury and rage in their stiffened features; wild women in extraordinary dresses, their hair, black and long as the tail of the horse, spread all dishevelled upon the ground; and gaunt and naked children grasping knives and daggers in their tiny hands. Of the patriotic troop, not one appeared to have fallen; and when, after their enemies had retreated with howlings of fiendish despair, they told their numbers, only one man was missing, who was never seen again, and that man was Alvarez. In the midst of the combat, the tempest, which had for a long time been gathering, burst over Logrono in lightning, thunder, darkness, and vehement hail," |