Can anything be more amazing, than the blunder of that great commander, and his total overthrow at Salamanca? Can anything in the page of history give more interest to a Briton than King Joseph's retreat to Vittoria, terminating in that extraordinary and amusing victory, with the total expulsion of the French from Spain? The eruption of Soult seemed to threaten disaster for a moment, but the tide was at full, at Sauroren, and the ebb commenced on Wellington's arrival in person, and overwhelmed the French army in its bloody reflux, which was far more overbearing than the advance. After a protracted display of the most beautiful tactics, manœuvres, strategies, and combats, between two of the most accomplished generals that ever lived, we see the complete overthrow of the French army at Toulouse, at a moment when peace, unseen, had already dawned. It were idle to dwell on that most critical combat, which gave the coup de grâce to the great ruler of France. In this unparalleled conflict, where much depended on the general, still more perhaps, on the endurance and indomitable courage of the troops, the greatest victory of the age was gained, and its results to the contemplative mind are the most important, wonderful, and even in some degree melancholy, that can engage the eloquent pen of the immortal historian.

LETTER TENTH.

PISA, August, 18

MY DEAR

THIS dull, dilapidated, antiquated, but classical city is at present enlivened in its comparatively circumscribed circle of society by the arrival of a beautiful young Roman lady, called Irene Zerga, who has caused a sort of furore among the men, and no small symptoms of jealousy among the ladies. Irene, though married, is only eighteen years of age, and the exact height of the Venus de Medicis, though rather embonpoint in other parts, she is exceedingly slim in the waist, with a face so classical, and perfectly beautiful, that no statuary or painter could desire anything superior. She is a lively, joyous creature, animated, affable, and sweet, and the finest dancer I have ever seen off the stage. Her family were originally from Tuscany, and she has fled to them from a jealous, I believe, blackguard husband, with whom, even her life had been in

danger. At fifteen years of age she was removed from a nunnery, where she had been placed for several years for her education, and married by her parents to a fellow she had only seen for a few times at the grate. Such was her transcendent beauty, that wherever she appeared in the corrupt society of Rome, she was followed by innumerable libertines, who vied with each other in pouring into her young ears the poison of their adulation, among whom her own confessor had introduced a cardinal of immense wealth and princely lineage-O, Tempora! Her husband, who had an appointment as head of the police, a coarse fellow, and very different from the respectable persons who hold similar situations in our country, became jealous, discontented, rude, overbearing, but all in vain, for poor Irene had before her the corrupt example of the first, the most fashionable, and influential of the ladies of Rome, and was assailed and seduced by the insinuations and artifices of certain persons of her own sex, a class fortunately not known in our country, who, when their own charms have faded, make themselves convenient, and advance their interests by administering in this infernal mode to the passions of their corrupt patrons. The Sbirro was at length wrought into a state of frenzy; one evening came home late, rushed into the bedroom where his beautiful wife lay, stabbed her four times with his stiletto, and supposing he had

murdered her, fled from the house. Her parents and friends, of course, called in the best medical aid that could be procured, and wonderful to relate, she completely recovered from the wounds-two of which were in the abdomen. Upon her recovery, her friends recommended her not to remain longer in the same city with the monster, who had evidently intended her murder, and hence the cause of the dull atmosphere of Pisa being warmed and enlightened by the radiance and beauty of her sunny countenance. Both my friend Pesciolini and myself, as men of taste, discernment, and feeling, and admirers, of course, of that fairest work of nature's hand-woman-had often met, admired, and perhaps flirted, with the beautiful young Roman. One afternoon a little sea breeze, an occasional visitor of the still atmosphere of Pisa, was passing over the slumbering town, and induced us to make a short excursion outside the walls, accompanied by an old cavalier, an exceedingly garrulous amusing person, the elder brother of the Countess Flaminia Testa. In passing a large vineyard, and casa de contadini, judge our amazement, when we saw from the upper window, the beautiful head of the fair Irene. As we came to a sudden angle of the wall, my companion seized me by the arm, and whirled me round towards the casa de contadini, leaving the old cavalier in earnest conversation, but minus an auditor, when we bolted off to .

reconnoitre the abode of our fair friend, and ascertain what could possibly induce so gay and distinguished a person to live in so extraordinary a seclusion. In entering it, however, we found it a much more convenient and comfortable dwelling than we anticipated; we passed through a large hall, a corner of which was devoted to culinary purposes, at the end of which there was a neat staircase, leading to the second floor, which was a well-furnished, nice, cleanly abode. Here we found Irene and her maid, a plump good-looking lively girl, for such servants in Italy are not treated in the aristocratic manner of this country, (a style of manners much condemned by our friends on the continent,) but in a kindly, friendly, genteel way, and I must do them the justice to say, that notwithstanding this, they exactly understand their position, and are much less given to rudeness and familiarity than the servants in England. They received us in the warmest and kindest manner-with that gay, cheerful affability peculiar to Roman ladies, and we were soon engaged in a light, easy, cheerful, animated conversation about the society and theatres of Leghorn and Pisa, and many other pleasant topics, among which, I assure you, law, physics, politics, popery, and other grave subjects were not included. By-and-bye the peasants returned from the vineyards-splendid robustlooking persons-verifying what Alfieri remarks, "La