1828.] Portugal [llustrated. 167 
consulting (we put the military works out of the question here) is 
that of the German writer, Link. Spain and Portugal are not new 
countries, nor countries newly thrown open to English inspection, from 
which the most crude results of a traveller’s observation are valuable 
or interesting. We have superficial descriptions, in abundance, of all 
quarters of the Peninsula. The dirty streets and the mongrel dogs, and 
the number of the frairs, and the vigour of the fleas, and the mountain- 
ous roads, and the mule-drivers’ inns, and all the economy of the convent 
disciplines and the religious processions, have had the changes rung upon 
them again and again. It is just possible for strongly humorous or poetic 
description to give force and interest even to details so frequently already 
_ dwelt upon ; but in the way of information as to such matters, nothing 
new, we believe, is likely to be supplied. If any book upon the state 
of Portugal were to have value at the present moment, it could only be 
the work of some writer of an informed and philosophical mind, whose 
long residence in, and familiarity with the country, should have afforded 
him an intimate knowledge of the constitution, dispositions, powers, and 
intelligence of its inhabitants; and thus enabled him to draw a con- 
clusion, or to supply his readers with the means of drawing such con- 
clusion, by the facts presented to them, as to what position the country 
may be likely to maintain in the future distribution of power in Europe 
—or how to acquit itself under the circumstances of disorder and difficulty 
under which it is at present labouring. 
Now Mr. Kinsey’s book we wish to look at with every favourable 
disposition ; but it certainly is not quite a work of this character. It 
tells us little more, as far as we can perceive, in the main, about Por- 
tugal, than that which every body knew before ; or, where originality 
is attempted, it falls very frequently into incorrect inference and error. 
The style too, of the work, is not such as we can commend: and we are 
justified in taking this exception to the production of a traveller, who 
travels professedly to make a book, and who is a scholar by pro- 
fession, and the fellow of a college. It is frequently obscure, and 
ungrammatical ; generally disposed to be pedantic; and most unfortu- 
nately overloaded with attempts at sprightliness and humour, such as— 
as we wish to avoid all severity—we shall not trust ourselves to cha- 
racterise. With these faults, and the still farther one of being lengthened 
to a needless extent, by the extract, not only of whole pages, but almost 
of whole chapters, from every work upon Portugal that the author 
can lay his hands on, the best fortune we are afraid, the book can 
expect is to be voted, not quite unreadable, nor without a claim to 
passing consideration: it can hardly hope to reach the library, but 
may have a chance of some popularity in the drawing-room or on the 
work-table. We shall proceed, however, to give some specimens both 
of the more worthy and more culpable portions of its contents: pre- 
mising that, beginning where the author begins, we shall begin with 
those points in which he shews to least advantage. 
The Rev. Mr. Kinsey embarks from England, at some time—exact 
date not mentioned—in the year 1827; (it might have been more con- 
venient if the month had been given, as the fact of time become a key 
to the season during which the traveller pursues his researches) ; and, 
after having been deeply gratified in the course of a Sunday passed on 
board the packet, by perceiving that every sailor on board attended 
his (the author’s) performance of church service, and that “ not a 
