rite saint, and the Virgin Mary, under the appellation of our " Lady of the Pillar" is the Patron Saint of Zaragoza. In this town there is a lofty and magnificent cathedral, dedicated to her, called El Pilar. In the centre of this cathedral is an edifice, which is strikingly beautiful. The principal front is a chapel of our " Lady of the Pillar," who is said to have appeared upon this very Pillar to St. James, and afterwards gave to him the image which is worshipped at her altar. Over this, there is a dome corresponding to the great dome under which it stands, serving by way of canopy to the image of the Virgin. The three other fronts of this elegant tabernacle are in like manner chapels. In the different compartments are historical paintings by the celebrated Bayen. The wealth of this cathedral is inestimable, in silver, gold, precious stones, and rich embroidery, sent by all the Catholic sovereigns of Europe to deck its priests and adorn its altars. Many of these presents being modern, are worthy of attention for their elegance, as well as for the value of their pearls, diamonds, emeralds, and rubies. In a word, whatever wealth could command, or human art could execute, has been collected to excite the admiration of all who view the treasures of this church.

Roads of Spain.

There are few countries in a civilized state that contain so few good roads as Spain. The Count Florida Blanca during his ministry was particularly attentive to this subject. Biscay and Navarre, owing to him, now boast a few good roads, but this minister was more attentive to improve and complete the principal road which entirely crosses Spain from Bayonne to Cadiz, passing by Madrid. Until his time the advantage was unknown of travelling in a post-chaise the hundred leagues which separate these two cities. The few roads and canals Spain does possess, she owes to the sovereigns of the house of Bourbon.

The following itinerary of the principal great roads from Madrid to the chief towns of the provinces, will be found very convenient by all persons reading the newspapers of the day. Many of the distan ces are stated from actual admeasurement; others are taken from the computed leagues of the country as estimated for the march of soldiers or hire of travelling horses, some of which have been corrected from the observations of the late M. Mechain, in his trigonometrical survey of Spain, in which he was employed, as well as in measuring a degree of the meridian in that country sometime in

miles. between villages estimated at a league, varies from 33 to 42 English not less than four English miles, and that frequently the distance It is to be observed, that the nominal or common league of Spain is distances and the actual length of the carriage roads differ one fourth. tention; on the contrary, there are many places where the linear the chief towns, as deduced from maps, can deserve the least atroads very crooked, no geometrical survey of the distances between 1805. But as the country is very mountainous, and consequently the

This table represents the number of leagues between all the capital towns of the provinces, or, as they are usually called, kingdoms, and the metropolis or court of Spain, MADRID. If it is desired to know the distance between Badajos and Madrid, the angle of the column under the former, and immediately opposite the latter, gives 63 leagues, or 252 English miles: if from Bajados to Zaragoza, we find 113 leagues or 452 English miles: and so with all the others.

N. B. The distances in this table are taken on the carriage roads, and not the bridle roads, which are shorter, more mountainous, and generally impassable to any thing but asses, mules, sheep, or black cattle.

Sword Blades of Toledo.

These blades have long been famous throughout Europe. The steel is excellent, and so perfectly tempered that in thrusting at a target the swords will bend like whalebone, and yet cut through a helmet without turning their edge. This manufacture was a long time neglected, but was revived in 1786. Virgil says,

Diod. Sic. says, the Celtiberians give such temper to their steel that no helmet can resist their stroke.

FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

Gloster. Now Sir, what are you?

Edgar. A most poor man made tame to Fortune's blows;
Who by the art of knowing and feeling sorrow,

Am pregnant to good pity.

KING LEAR.

By the celebrated Adam Smith, sympathy has been supposed to exist in a power of the imagination, whereby we place ourselves in the situation of any object which may excite a sympathetic sensation of joy or sorrow. Undoubtedly this power of the imagination, is neces

sary to the excitement of sympathy; for without bringing home the situation of another to ourselves, we can form no conception of his sensations, and we cannot be influenced by that which we cannot conceive. Hence the sentimental pangs which frequently torture minds of susceptibility and refinement, are the subject of ridicule with those whose coarser organization or habitudes, does not allow of the conception of such sources of pain.

Hence likewise the cruelty so often exhibited to lovers, by women who are wanting in capacity to conceive, or in the experience which should teach them the pangs of unrequited love. By Shakspeare this is very strikingly elucidated in the cruelty of Phebe to Silvius, previously to her passion for Rosalind, and her subsequent compassion when she herself had felt the "wounds invisible," "That love's keen arrows make."

• Sil. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe: Say, that you love me not; but say not so

In bitterness: The common executioner,

Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard,
Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck,

But first begs pardon; Will you sterner be
Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops?
Phe. I would not be thy executioner;

I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.

Thou tell'st me, there is murder in mine eye:

'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable,

That eyes, that are the frailst and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers!
Now I do frown on thee with all my heart;

And if my eyes can wound, now let them kill thee;
Now counterfeit to swoon; why now fall down;

Or, if thou canst not, Ö, for shame, for shame,

Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers.

Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee:
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains

Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush,

The cicatrice and capable impressure

Thy palm some moment keeps: but now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not;

Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes

The power of the imagination abovementioned, is therefore, as I have already admitted, indispensable to sympathy; being the only medium through which we can form any conception of the sensations of others, and consequently the only one through which they can excite emotion in ourselves: but it does not appear sufficiently to explain, why a conception of the existence of certain feelings. in another, should awaken emotion in us. Were the explanation afforded by the illustrious author whom I have quoted, correct, the strength of our sympathetic sensations, would be proportionate to the strength of our fancy, and the degree of our internal susceptibility to pain or pleasure; because the latter would give us the highest idea of the influence of pleasurable or painful causes, and the former would enable us more completely to change places with the object calling forth our sympathy. But this is in great measure contrary to truth; for men who are equally susceptible of corporal torture, and who have equally vivid conceptions of the sufferings. of such as are exposed to them, experience the sentiment of commiseration in a very different degree: nor do we find people of the most powerful fancy, those who suffer most by sympathy. Such persons are often almost devoid of this amiable principle, in its more serious forms. Poets are quite as susceptible of homefelt evil as other men; and are certainly endowed with superior powers of fancy; yet they are not found to be peculiarly open to the calls of sympathy. The spectators of distress, after expressing their strong sense of its evils, very often finish with a self-felicitation that their fate is different; and appear to be only affected by the satisfaction thus awakened, Yet they must have gone through that pro

But when Rosalind had excited in Phebe similar pangs, to those which the latter had previously ridiculed in Silvius-mark how changed her style:

Phe. Dead shepherd! now I find thy saw of might;

Whoever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?

Sil. Sweet Phebe,

Phe.

Ha! what say'st thou, Silvius!

Sil. Sweet Phebe, pity me.

Phe. Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius.