himself. He often cited long passages from ancient and modern writers, particularly his favourite poets, Horace and Virgil, Hagedorn and Burger. He could describe objects that he read of in books, even better than many who had seen them: thus, for example, he once gave a description, in the presence of Londoner, of Westminster bridge, according to its form and structure, length, breadth, height, and dimensions of all its parts, so that the Englishman enquired how many years he had been in London, and whether he had dedicated himself to architecture? Upon which he was assured, that Kant had neither passed the boundaries of Prussia, nor had been an architect. A similar question was put to him by Brydone, to whom he unfolded, in conversation, all the relative situations of Italy. By the aid of his quick observation and clear conception, he was enabled to converse with admirable accuracy on chemical experiments, although he had never once witnessed any process in chemistry, and did not begin the theoretical study till after the sixtieth year of his age. Dr. Hagen, the great chemist, could not forbear expressing his perfect astonishment, while conversing with Kant at dinner on the subject, to find any one able, by simple reading, to make himself such a perfect master of a science so difficult. But the most prominent feature in Kant's intellectual character, was the accuracy with which he analysed the most complex ideas. Nothing escaped the scrutiny of his intellectual eye. Whatever was perceivable to others in the moral and physical world became manifest to him. He discovered, therefore, so easily, the incongruities of other men's sentiments, and traced, with unspeakable precision, their errors to the true source. He had likewise an astonishing faculty of unfolding the most abstruse principles, and digesting singular and individual sentiments into a systematic order. Herein consisted the originality of his mind. All his philosophical conceptions flowed from the inexhaustible source of his own reason. The facility with which he deduced every thing from his own reflections, gave him at length such a habitual familiarity with himself, that he could not properly enter into the sentiments of others. He found all in his own mind which answered his purpose, and had, therefore, no occasion for foreign resources. With all this depth of reflection, Kant was, notwithstanding, a wit. He had frequent and sudden strokes of ready wit at hand, to give a grace and interest to his conversation, writings, and lectures. He was a general admirer of all that polishes and beautifies the graver topics; and, in his lectures, he studied to acquire an agreeable delivery, with an easy flow of words. His manner of address, however, was peculiarly well adapted to the nature of his discourse. On morality he could move his audience to tears. He knew how to give the dry subjects of logic and pneumatics an easy turn, that rendered them even amusing; but on metaphysics he was abstruse, and, for beginners, not perfectly intelligible. He was sometimes carried, by a too great minuteness, away from the main subject, to which he was then forced abruptly to return. He was also liable to be confused by the smallest trifles. One day, in particular, he discovered a remarkable embarrassment, and confessed afterwards, that one of the audience who had a coat with a button wanting had been the cause of his discomposure, from the involuntary attraction of his eyes and mind to the defective quarter. We must not forget to view Kant in another relation, which does honour to his heart: this was, his warm and steady attachment as a friend. Professor Rhunken was the bosom friend of his youth. This friendship was the offspring of congenial sentiment, and lasted till the death of the former. Theodore Gottlob von Hippel, secretary at war to his Prussian majesty in Ko nigsberg, a man well known for his literary performances, lived many years in the closest intercourse with Kant; as also the generals Brunet, With von Mayer, von Losson. Lambert, Sulzer, and Garve, he held a very interesting literary conHis respondence. nearest and dearest friend, however, was one Green, an English merchant, residing at Konigsberg. Their friendship was occasioned by the following singular occurrence: Kant was expatiating once, in a coffee-house, during the American war, with some warmth, in favour of the Americans, and against the English, when a man suddenly started up, and declared himself offended by the reflections thrown on his country, and demanded honourable satisfaction. Kant, undisturbed by this strange mode of attack, continued to give a cool, but striking illustration of his own sentiments, in particular reference to the case of the Englishman. His impressive manner of reasoning, combined with his good-nature, had such an effect on Mr. Green (for that was the name of the gentleman), that he acknowledged the impropriety of his own conduct, and solieited Kant's pardon, which was immediately granted. Green attended Kant to his house; and from that hour, a friendship was commenced, which terminated only with the death of the former. Mr. Green was a whimsical, but well-informed man, possessed of many excellent qualites of the head and heart. Kant found in him so much solid intellect, that he never published any thing without first submitting to his judgment. Kant was of a remarkable slender and delicate make; and his body was covered with so little flesh, that his clothes could never be made to fit, but by artificial means. His nervous and muscular system was no less tender. He was five feet high; but his head was large in proportion to the rest of his body. He had a flat breast, that bent almost inwards; and his right shoulder projected rather out. His form His was otherwise quite perfect. For the Literary Magazine. BULL-FEASTS IN SPAIN. (Extracted from a Journal kept by a Traveller in that Country.) I CANNOT but conceive it an egregious error in those travellers, who have attributed bull-feasts, or amphitheatrical entertainments, in Spain, to the Moors, and stiled them the barbarous relict of their customs. It was not till long after the christian æra, that Gibraltar was first conquered by Tarick, the famous leader of the African adventurers: but this practice can be traced to epochs long before that period from which we now date; of consequence, if it is an exotic custom, they must owe its origin to the conquest of the Romans, or the imitation of their European neighbours. It cannot be denied that the Spaniards retain to this day many remains of Moorish and it customs and manners; would, perhaps, be more to their credit if they retained more; for if we may judge from the monuments the latter have left behind them, they possessed the most valuable ideas of architecture, tilling, draining, watering, and laying-out grounds; which once made the now rude plains of Grenada a perfect garden, and beautified them beyond our most romantic ideas of an Elysium; but amidst all their splendour and dreams of dear-bought happiness amidst the gaities of a Bobadil's reign, they did not practise fighting bulls; for their entertainments consisted of hunting, feats of the sword, club, and lance, wrestling, &c., at which their jealous dispositions did not suffer their women often to be present, the very soul of the exercise under our consideration; nor is it the theme of any of the Spanish writers of romance, who have handed down to us their customs. The many remains of Roman architecture in Spain, the circular and oval forms of places built for exhibitions of this kind, together with the cells, vomitoria, podia, seats, and other yet visible ruins, evince to us, that those conquerors of what they called the Provincia Cunicularis not only spread the glory of their arms amongst this newly-subjugated people, but celebrated their victories by triumphal arches, and those public exhibitions which were common amongst themselves. Few Roman historians have mentioned the amphitheatrical games; and the early annals of the church are filled with the mention of victims that were exposed both to the contumely of the mob and the assaults of the lion and the tiger, whilst their liberty and pardon were the rewards of their courage. This was a favourite punishment for their criminals, and at once evinces to us, that these masters of the world, of learning, and of renown, had only advanced a few removes beyond barbarism. Legislation afterwards altered this practice, and the combatants were either hired, or served as volunteers. We are then only at a loss how to account for bulls being pitched upon as the tortured object of this practice, which is easily done, when we consider the difficulty and expence of obtaining the lion and the tiger alive*, particularly after the Moorish conquest, when the Spaniards had only a partial access to the shores of Africa, and when * The lion and tiger to this day form part of the tribute of the dependent beys in Africa; and the bagnios and slave prisons are peopled with these savage rangers of the wild, but only for show; and, to the shocking torture of every feeling of humanity, they are made the inmates of the wretched and equally fettered slave, who is often destined to be their keeper. they had such ferocious beasts on their own plains, which would afford nearly an equal display of courage, without that excess of danger. In tracing this practice, for the information of my readers, I shall be explicit and correct. Formerly the most valiant captains of the Lusitanian bands entered the lists in this ferocious combat. After conquering the Saracen, a Gonsalvo, a Lara, weilded the spear and sword against the dart-enraged bull; their recompence was the smile of approbation from their favourite fair-one. The greatest merit in her eyes was courage, and the greatest bond in love was the contempt of danger. Arrayed in the scarf their mistresses had embroidered, it was their pride to show their familiarity with scenes of peril, and the lengths to which they would go for objects incomparably more deserving. This spirit was fostered by their generals: it made their hearts martial, and counteracted the inert languor and inactivity of the camp. Not such the present champions: their pristine nobleness is fled; they are hirelings, and the traits of their courage are ferocious and butcher-like. The days chosen for this sport are generally the anniversaries of some saints, with which the calendar is filled; but in the great cities, during the season, it may be seen three times a-week. No sooner is the day fixed on for this exhibition, than the news is eagerly spread, and electrifies every class with joy. The topic becomes general, every countenance exults in the glad tidings, and old and young, equally joyous, anticipate the scene. From all parts they crowd to the spot; neither distance nor penury withholds them; and if government or the police of the individual cities had not fixed restrictions to these games, the fields would remain untilled, and the grapes ungathered. The bulls intended for the day's sport are brought into the city in the night, when the streets are empty, by means of a tame ox or cow, which serve as decoys. They are pent up in separate cells, so small that they have not room to turn, and with their heads to the area. They are here goaded, and rendered furious by every artificial means. Already is the amphitheatre crowded by an immense concourse, impatient for the signal to begin. Perhaps not a sight in nature is equal to this of the thronged spectators, clothed in all the gaieties and luxuries of dress, filling the progressively rising seats, and almost frantic with pleasure. The eye, enraptured, measures its favourite circle, rows on rows at once swell the grateful focus, and pleased the visual orb indulges in the scene. The men are clothed in their short cut jackets, loaded with innumerable rows of buttons à lo majo; with broad brimmed hats, or small high velvet caps; their hair confined within a silken net, and cloaks of black or scarlet half envelope their shoulders. The women, whose general street attire is black, now appear decked in all the showy contrast of colours, gay bunches of ribbons ornament their jet black hair; the richest mantles flow down their comely waists, over a short fringed petticoat, and at once give to view forms the most divine, without hiding those soul-enlivening eyes and animated countenances which allure, enrapture, and command. Costly fans produce an artificially cool atmosphere, and with great légèreté de main serve to salute their distant friends. Refreshing drinks and cakes of every kind are handed about by their attendants; handbills announce the particulars of the entertainment, and the different coloured ribbons that are affixed to the bulls' manes, to denote their race, progeny, and from whence brought. A gay display of flags wave on the tops of the battlements and when at war with any nation, they fix theirs, reversed, in the most conspicuous place. The shouts of the gay multitude, and the swiftwinged rockets that break high in air, announce the approach of the hour, generally four in the afternoon. The signal trumpet sounds; a company of soldiers, with a lively band of music, enters at the gates, and, after forming into a line, clears the area of its numbers. One of them is then placed at each of the little recesses, made at small distances in the inner palisado, and sufficient to admit the body of the combatants, for whose safety they are intended. The governor next appears, and the ministers of police are seated nearly over the place where the bulls are confined. Two trumpeters stand behind them, and under their direction the feast is conducted. Every thing in readiness, four champions in different coloured dresses enter the area on horse back, their legs and thighs are cased in tough leather, in their right hands they bear a long ashen lance tipped with a small piece of iron, and with their left dextrously manage their steeds. They prance gaily along the circle, make their devoirs to the governor, presidents of the feast, and their individual patrons and protectors. They then range themselves according to their merit opposite the first cell, from which the bull is expected to issue; but on the left, as the animal from instinct makes his attack on that side. A trumpet again sounds, a trap-door is raised, and forth rushes the bellowing monster, astonished, enraged, and frantic with hunger and frequent goadings. With impetuous onset he rushes on the prepared horseman, who with his lance repels him to the right or left of his horse. The second champion then follows, invites him to combat, and receives him in the same way. The greatest strength and dexterity are evinced in these frequent onsets; but it often happens, that the greater furious strength of the horned enragé overturns both horse and rider, and lays both promiscuously in the dust. Both then often share the frantic revenge of the animal, and are promiscuously torn with his horns, notwithstanding the efforts of the others to get him away, and divert him on another side. He often buries his towering antlers in the bodies of both, throws their shattered limbs in the air, and strews them on the area. More frequently the rider escapes by the recesses in the palisado, and returns remounted with fresh courage to provoke battle. It is not unusual for one bull to kill several horses; but these animals, particularly in Andalusia, are so noble, that, with their entrails dragging on the ground, they face the tortured beast, and by their neighing and snorting seem to enjoy the sport, although not trained to it. Should they prove refractory, the riders cover their eyes with a handkerchief, that they may be unconscious of their danger; though such is the courage and noble spirit of this domestic animal, that this is seldom necessary: but it is grating to every feeling of humanity, that the end of this first of beasts should be thus perverted by practices so cruel. After a round of feats of this kind, equally horrid and disgusting, the trumpet again sounds, and the horsemen retire. The foot combatants then come forth, gaily dressed, and each bearing a pair of darts in his hands. With these they provoke the furious animal to battle, and, when he puts down his head in an attitude to tear them with his horns, they dexterously stick the barbed darts behind his neck, and evade his horns by slipping aside. These shulitos a pie crowd around him, wound him by incessant darts, and when he goes near the seats he receives showers of small ones from the people. In the tops of these darts, gaily ornamented with coloured paper, fire-works are fixed, which, when the match burns down, explode with frequent crackings. He stands with an aspect of rage and terror. His flaming eyes dart around the circle, he seeks objects to sate his rage; they evade him, the place resounds with horrid bellowings, streams of red froth issue from his mouth and nostrils, he paws the blood-stained ground, and in vain shakes his sides and neck to dislodge the galling load. Furious VOL. VIII. NO. XLVII. from rage and pain, he bounds across the area, attempts to climb the palisado, and wreak his revenge on every opposing object. Frequently he catches them on his horns, but generally from their great agility they escape, and he only bears away in triumph part of the red garment with which he had been provoked and deceived. I have seen one of these combatants hard pressed by the enraged bull, and apparently without means to escape. He was pent close to the palisado, and no recess at hand. Already had the furious beast stooped to tear him to pieces, and the terrified spectators imagined him horribly mangled on his horns. The active combatant, undismayed, and with unexampled presence of mind, put his foot on the forehead of the bull, with one leap was out of danger, and, lighting behind the furious animal, seemed to laugh at his unavailing efforts to catch him; he skipped gaily and unhurt away. He then walked round the circle with his hat in his hand; money from all sides was showered down to him from the pleased spectators and his patrons, who always requite an extraordinary display of agility by a collective reward. Formerly a favourite flower from the breast of the fair, or a bunch of ribands, was thrown down to the victo rious champion, and he was happy in that return for the exertion of his courage and agility. When every means of harassing the animal has been exhausted, the trumpet is again blown, the footmen leave the area, and a single champion steps forth. In his right hand he bears a double-edged Toledo, and on his left arm a red cloak. After making his obeisance to the spectators, he provokes the bull by holding to him the red garment, and after several evasions of his horns he prepares for the last and most noted exertion of skill in this way. He places himself in a firm position before him, holds his sword obliquely, on which the maddening beast rushes with such impetuosity as to bury it to the hilt. Already the staggering bull 3 |