That great geniuses meet, is a saying almost as ancient as the twin rocks that give a title to Mr David Urquhart’s latest literary production. But not often is the same country visited and described, within the short space of two years, by two such distinguished persons as the member for Stafford and the author of _Monte-Christo_. For the honour of their presence, the shores of Barbary and Andalusia are indebted to the chapter of accidents. “I did not visit Morocco or Spain on any settled plan. I was on my way to Italy by sea, and, passing through the straits of Gibraltar, was so fascinated by the beauty and mysteries of the adjoining lands, that I relinquished my proposed excursion for the explorations which are here recorded.” Thus far the Celt. Hear the Gaul’s reply to the Bey of Tunis, when questioned as to the motive of his African excursion,—“I answered, that I had the honour to be known to the king and princes of France; that I had the misfortune to be on tolerably bad terms with the father, but the happiness to stand pretty well with the sons; that one of these sons, of whom he (the Bey) had doubtless heard speak, and who was dead—M. le Duc d’Orléans—had more than once deigned to call me his friend; that another son, still better known to him than the first,—M. le Duc de Montpensier—had inherited his brother’s friendship for me, and had invited me to his wedding, which had just taken place at Madrid; that, being at Madrid, I desired to push on to Algiers, and, once at Algiers, I felt unwilling to quit Africa without saying a prayer upon the tomb of St Louis, who was, as he surely knew, a great _marabout_; that I was on my way to perform this duty, when I heard that he did me the honour to expect me, whereupon I hastened to pay him my respects.” Such trivial causes lead to great results! To the Montpensier marriage is the Bey of Tunis indebted for an interview with the first of French novelists, and the European world for the narrative of his African travels. We hesitated before associating the two books that form the theme of this article. We feared to rouse M. Dumas’ indignation, by coupling him with an author whom he, with his usual supercilious disesteem of things British, will probably set down as _un pédant Ecossais_. On the other hand, we thought it possible so grave and erudite a person as Mr Urquhart might consider his labours slighted, when linked with the playful superficialities of _Le Véloce_; and from this apprehension we were relieved, only upon finding him quote his French cotemporary’s Spanish tour with an air of greater approval than he usually bestows upon the works of recent writers on Spain. For it is not the most amiable of his peculiarities, that his references to brother travellers are generally censorious. He seems to have vowed opposition and animosity to all who have rambled and written over the same ground as himself. Blanco White, George Borrow, Richard Ford, and