various others of less note, in turn come in for correction or a sneer. The last-named is particularly ill-treated. “To Mr Ford’s book, however disagreeable the task, I had intended to devote a special chapter; but, understanding that the two volumes are, in the second edition, reduced to one, I must infer that the author has anticipated my conclusion,—that the work might be made valuable by cutting out the slang, ribaldry, opinions, and false quotations.” Should _The Pillars of Hercules_ reach a second edition, either condensed, or in its present diffuse form, we advise its author to cut out this passage, or at least to correct its discourtesy and exaggeration. So harsh and unjust a verdict drives us to the inference that, owing to some mental idiosyncrasy of Mr Urquhart’s, the chief merits of the book he decries altogether escape his perception; and that, whilst dwelling upon an occasional error—pardonable in a work embracing so great a variety of subject, and such a mass of detail—and condemning those opinions that are so unfortunate as to differ from his own, he totally overlooks the racy humour, the happy illustrations, the felicitous exposition of Spanish foibles and characteristics, the intimate knowledge of the country and its customs, which place the author of the _Handbook_ and _Gatherings_ amongst the very highest authorities respecting modern Spain. But we need not take up the cudgels for Richard Ford, whose works will stand upon their own bottom, and whose acute and pungent pen is quite able to defend his literary offspring, should he think it worth his while, even against his present formidable assailant.