Mr. J. mentions an animal in the Ramghur hills, called Dholes or Quihoes, which he does not think has been described by any naturalist.

-- "They are between the size of a wolf and a jackall; slightly made, of a light bay colour, with fierce eyes, and their faces sharp like that of a greyhound."

They are very fierce and shy, and, hunting in packs, often destroy large beasts of prey. The bears seem to be a more humorous race in India, for we are assured

"They are often met by travellers on the new road; the carriers of palanquins are so accustomed to see them, that they take little notice of them, unless they think they are carrying a person unaccustomed to the country, whom in that case, they endeavour to intimidate by pretending that there is great danger in going on. This they do with the hope that a reward will be offered them to proceed; but if they find that the person is aware of their tricks, they try to get a present, by amusing him with a song, in which they imitate the bear.

"Bears will often continue on the road in front of the palanquin for a mile or two, tumbling and playing all sorts of antics, as if they were taught to do so; I believe it is their natural disposition, for they certainly are the most amusing creatures imaginable in their wild state. It is no wonder that with monkeys they are led about to amuse mankind. It is astonishing as well as ludicrous to see them climb rocks, and tumble or rather roll down precipices. If they are attacked by any person on horseback, they stand erect on their hind legs, shewing a fine set of white teeth, and making a cackling kind of noise. If the horse comes near them, they try to catch him by the legs, and if they miss him they tumble over and over several times. They are easily speared by a person mounted on a horse that is bold enough to go near them."

The elephant, if not so sportive as the bear, claims from our impartial author the higher character of sagacity; and he adds several curious instances to the already well known host of sto

ries which display this quality. For example;

"An elephant belonging to Mr. Boddam of the Bengal civil service, at Gyah, used every day to pass over a small bridge leading from his master's house, into the town of Gyah; he one day refused to go over it, and it was with great difficulty, by goring him most cruelly with the Hunkuss, [iron instrument] that the Mahout [driver] could get him to venture on the bridge, the strength of which he first tried with his trunk, shewing clearly that he suspected that it was not sufficiently strong; at last he went on, and before he could get over, the bridge gave way, and they were precipitated into the ditch, which killed the driver, and considerably injured the elephant. It is reasonable to suppose that the elephant must have perceived its feeble_state when he last passed over it. It is a well known fact, that elephants will seldom or ever go over strange bridges, without first trying with their trunks if they be sufficiently strong to bear their weight, nor will they ever go into a boat without doing the same.

"I had a remarkably quiet and do cile elephant, which one day came loaded with branches of trees for provender, followed by a number of villagers, calling for mercy (their usual cry when ill used;) complaining that the Mahout had stolen a kid from them and that it was then on the elephant, under the branches of the trees. The Mahout took an opportunity of decamping into the village and hiding himself. I ordered the elephant to be unloaded, and was surprised to see that he would not allow any person to come near to him, when at all other times he was perfectly tractable and obedient. Combining all the circumstances, I

was convinced that the Mahout was guilty, and to get rid of the noise, I recompensed the people for the loss of their kid. As soon as they were gone away, the elephant allowed himself to be unloaded, and the kid was found under the branches, as described by the people. I learnt from my Sarcar, that similar complaints had been made to him before, and that the rascal of a Mahout made it a practice to ride the

elephant into the midst of a herd of goats, and had taught him to pick up any of the young ones he directed; he had also accustomed him to steal their pumpions and other vegetables that grew against the inside of their fences like french beans, which could only be reached by an elephant. He was the best Mahout, I ever knew and so great a rogue, that I was obliged to discharge him.

"The very day that he left my service, the elephant's eyes were closed, which he did not open again in less than a fortnight, when it was discovered that he was blind. Two small eschars, one in each eye, were visible, which indicated pretty strongly that he had been made blind by some sharp instrument, most probably a heated needle. The suspicion was very strong against the former keeper, of whom I never heard any thing after. The elephant I frequently rode on,

shooting, for many years after this, through heavy covers, intersected with ravines, rivers, and over hollow and uneven ground, and he scarcely ever made a false step with me, and never once tumbled. He used to touch the ground with his trunk on every spot where his feet were to be placed, and in so light and quick a manner as scarcely to be perceived. The Mahout would often make him remove large stones, lumps of earth,or timber out of his way, frequently climb up and down banks, that no horse could get over; he would also occasionally break off branches of trees that were in the way of the Howdah to enable me to pass.

"Although perfectly blind, he was considered one of the best sporting elephants of his small size in the country, and he travelled at a tolerably good rate, and was remarkably easy in his paces."

IN N our last, describing a French picture styled a great work, we pointed out that it could only justly be so designated with reference to its immense size; and now, we find ourselves most agreeably called upon to reverse our mode of expression, and say, if this book be termed, in the common phrase a heavy quarto, it can only justly be with reference to its bulk. For it is a noble History; and if the name of its author had not already stood so eminently high, this production alone would have engraved it on that splendid roll where the name of Gibbon, of Hume, and of Robertson, are inscribed in immortal characters.

We confess that we opened these pages with apprehension of fatigue; we thought that at best the narrative must come upon us like a twice told tale, for the events seemed to be recent, and too important to admit of forgetfulness, and too well known to allow of any novelty in disposition and colouring. We were entirely mistaken. The interest of the story grew upon us from

page to page, till our whole mind was engrossed; and we now as truly state our opinion, that Mr. Southey has begun the consummation and consolidation of his literary fame in this admirable Volume.

We can hardly communicate to our readers an idea of the impression made by the devotion of a few hours to this History. Any extracts, by detaching the continued interest, must injure it. There are, no doubt, links of the chain more perfectly wrought than others; but it is the whole chain, unbroken, and binding the senses, which compels from us the strong acknowledgment of the writer's powers. The matters recorded are worthy of the ablest pen; the style is peculiar, and peculiarly vivid; sometimes highly elevated, always clear and forcible, and generally subdivided (as will appear from our selections) in a new manner, which relieves us from the rounding of long periods without being abrupt, but on the contrary giving full developement to the author's meaning.

fered no opportunity to escape: those who were quartered in the great convent of St. Domingos pulled down the doors and window-frames, and put up the wood and iron work at auction. Yet their insolence was more intolerable than their rapacity, and their licentious habits worse than both. The Revolution had found the French a vicious people, and it had completed their corruption. It had removed all restraints of religion, all sense of honour, all regard for family or individual character; the sole object of their government was to make them soldiers, and for the purposes of such a government the wickedest men were the best. Junot himself set an example of profligacy he introduced the fashion of lascivious dances, imported perhaps from Egypt-one of them bears his name; and the Portugueze say that no man who regards the honor of his female relatives would suffer them to practise it." "The situation of Lisbon, at this time, is one to which history affords no parallel: it suffered neither war, nor pestilence, nor famine, yet these visitations could scarcely have produced a greater degree of misery; and the calamity did not admit of hope, for whither at this time could Portugal look for deliverance? As the government was now effectually converted into a military usurpation, it became easy to simplify its operations; and most of the persons formerly employed in civil departments were dismissed from office. Some of them were at once turned off; others had documents given them, entitling them to be reinstated upon vacancies; a few had some trifling pension promised. All who had depended for employment and subsistence upon foreign trade were now destitute. Whole families were thus suddenly reduced to poverty and actual want. Their trinkets went first; whatever was saleable followed: things offered for sale at such a time were sold at half their value, while the price of food was daily augmenting. It was a dismal thing to see the Mint beset with persons who carried thither the few articles of plate with which they had formerly set forth a comfortable board, and the ornaments which they had worn in

happier days. It was a dismal thing to see men pale with anxiety pressing through crowds who were on the same miserable errand, and women weeping as they offered their little treasure to the scales. Persons who had lived in plenty and respectability were seen publicly asking alms-for thousands were at once reduced to the alternative of begging or stealing; and women, of unblemished virtue till this fatal season, walked the streets, offering themselves to prostitution, that the mother might obtain bread for her hungry children,the daughter for her starving parents. Such was the state to which one of the most flourishing cities in Europe was reduced!

"As the general distress increased, tyranny became more rigorous, and rapine more impatient. - - - - Suicide, which had scarcely ever been heard of in Portugal, became now almost a daily act. There is no inhumanity like that of avarice. The Royal Hospital at Lisbon was one of the noblest institutions in the world. Under the house of Braganza it was the admiration of all who knew how munificently it was supported, and how admirably conducted; under the usurpation of the French more than a third part of the patients who died there perished for want of food.”

The following is as curious as it 'is a remarkable account of a great national superstition, and is admirably written

"The French, in the pride of their strength, and their ignorance of the national character, despised this poor oppressed people too much to be in any fear of what despair might impel them to; and one remarkable effect of the general misery tended at once to increase their contempt and their security. There exists in Portugal a strange superstition concerning King Sebastian, whose re-appearance is as confidently expected by many of the Portugueze as the coming of the Messiah by the Jews. The rise and progress of this belief forms a curious part of their history: it began in hope, when the return of that unhappy prince was not only possible, but might have been considered likely, it was fostered by the policy of the