intention to have gone from this place to Almeria on
horseback, but as R. has left for Madrid, I shall return to Malaga,
probably, in the diligence to-night. It leaves at 12 o'clock, under an
escort of six cavalry, which on this road is indispensably necessary.
From Malaga I shall take steamer for Valencia and Barcelona, and
according to my present calculations, will reach Paris about the first
of June next. F---- wants me to go to Italy--I do not know exactly
what course to take, as traveling in Italy during the summer season is
not considered healthy. I should like to remain in France a month or
so, in order to improve myself in their language: as for Spanish, I
speak it with fluency and ease already, and it is certainly one of the
most beautiful languages in the world.

Yours, JOHN E. WARREN.

* * * * *

THE SUMMER NIGHT.

We are in the midst of July--in the midst of summer--of the most
genial and pure-aired summer that we have had for years. How
beautifully RICHTER, translated by our Longfellow, of kindred genius,
describes the holy time! "The summer alone might elevate us. God what
a season! In sooth, I often know not whether to stay in the city, or
go forth into the fields, so alike is it everywhere and beautiful. If
we go outside the city gate, the very beggars gladden our hearts,
for they are no longer cold; and the post-boys who can pass the whole
night on horseback, and the shepherds asleep in the open air. We need
no gloomy house. We make a chamber out of every bush, and therefore
have my good industrious bees before us, and the most gorgeous
butterflies. In the gardens on the hills sit schoolboys, and in the
open air look out words in the dictionary. On account of the game-laws
there is no shooting now, and every thing in bush and furrow, and on
green branches, can enjoy itself right heartily and safely. In all
directions come travelers along the roads; they have their carriages
for the most part thrown back--the horses have branches stuck in their
saddles, and the drivers roses in their mouths. The shadows of the
clouds go trailing along,--the birds fly between them up and down, and
journeymen mechanics wander cheerily on with their bundles, and want
no work. Even when it rains we love to stand out of doors, and breathe
in the quickening influence, and the wet does the herdsman harm no
more. And is it night, so sit we only in a cooler shadow, from which
we plainly discer