which enchants every beholder. What wonder if, in this enchanted spot, love's glances should shoot from beneath many a mautilla? The scene is in unison with the softer passions of the heart; the air is filled with perfume; the heavens are cloudless, and the silvery Guadalquiver glides noiselessly by. before the public; for the people are too good judges to allow any bungling in a performance to which they had been accustomed from their infancy. The bulls used for the purpose are allowed to run perfectly_wild until they are old enough for the arena. They are then captured by tame animals, which are trained for the purpose; yet the operation is not performed without great difficulty, and much danger to the lives of the captors. The Government Tobacco Factory is an immense edifice, situated near one of the gates of the city, which the stranger will not fail to visit. Here five or six thousand hands are engaged in The day of a bull-fight is a grand gala-day; the manufacture of cigars and snuff, which the whole town is in a state of uproar, contrastare a government monopoly. In the lower ing strangely with the usual quiet which perstorey the, snuff-making is carried on by ma- vades all Spanish towns. The stranger will not chinery worked by horse-power. Here the fail to be out early, to see the motley crowd of atmosphere is loaded with fine particles of foot-passengers and vehicles, moving onward tobacco from the grinding-mortars, which im- through dust and din to the amphitheatre. Pretty mediately set the visitor to sneezing most furi-majas, in picturesque costumes, shoot their dark ously, although the operatives appear to be entirely insensible to it. I could barely remain long enough to take a hasty survey of the various processes the tobacco is put through before it is made into snuff, when I was obliged to make a hasty retreat to the open air. The second storey of the building is devoted to cigar-making; where about four thousand women are daily engaged in rolling up the weed. Among this immense tribe, whose tongues moved a good deal faster than their fingers, I noticed many pretty, roguish-looking faces; but the greater part of them had a sallow, unhealthy appearance, owing, doubtless, to long confinement in a close, vitiated atmosphere. Much of the tobacco used in the manufactory is brought from the United States, which is mixed with the Cuba leaf, and the cigars are of very inferior quality. In fact there are very few good cigars to be had in Spain, except those which are smuggled at the different sea-ports. eyes at you as they pass; dashing-looking majos rush by on their gaily-caparisoned horses; ladies of rank move on in their splendid equipages; while calesas, donkeys, and dogs, and footpassengers of high and low degree, are all hurrying forward in one continued stream towards the centre of attraction. These are indeed cosas de Espana; and the stranger who is in their midst is apt to believe himself sure enough in Spain. The amphitheatre of Seville is situated near the walls of the city, and is capable of containing from fifteen to twenty thousand spectators. Let the reader imagine himself one of them. At the appointed hour the building re-echoes with a sweet strain of music from the orchestra. Presently a large massive door flies open, and a gay cortége enters the arena. At the head marches an alguazil, who advances towards the seat occupied by the alcalde, to receive from him the key of the stable which conSeville is the birthplace of Murillo; and here tain the bulls intended for combat. This are to be found some of the finest efforts of his alguazil wears the ancient uniform of his pencil. One room in the Museum is devoted order, which consists in a cap of black velto his paintings, where the lover of the fine arts vet, ornamented with feathers, a closely-fitting may give himself up for hours to the study of black-silk coat, and black silk net smallbis magical canvas. Here is a most lovely clothes, small cloak of black velvet, hanging Conception, a favourite subject with Murillo, from one shoulder, and large top-boots. He is which he portrayed so often and so exquisitely, followed by a dozen torreros, dressed in that he obtained the name of El Pintor de las the majo style, although much more dazConcepciones. Here are likewise the Annunci-zling in colours and gold embroidery. After ation, the Adoration of the Shepherds, beside numerous other subjects in his best style. Here, also, is the celebrated picture of the Virgin and Child, called La Servileta, from its having been painted upon a napkin, which Murillo carried away from the dinner-table of one of his friends, by mistake. After some days the napkin was returned in the form of a picture, very much to the delight of the owner. Seville is one of the most lively and animated towns I have yet visited in Spain. The people are gay and jovial, fond of the dance and song, friends of pleasure, and enemies of toil. It is here that we find the bull-fight in all its perfection. The torrero and matador are obliged to go through a severe course of training, at a school of Toromachia, and to show much address, before they are allowed to appear these come several picadores, mounted on horseback and armed with lances. The torreros and picadores now disperse over the arena; a flourish of trumpets is given, a large gate suddenly opens, and an enormous bull rushes forth amid the shouts of the audience. The animal gazes around upon the vast crowd, as if paralyzed with fear. A murmur of disapprobation is spreading through the crowd, and the word cobarde passes from mouth to mouth. But the attention of the beast is soon attracted to those immediately around him. The torreros approach, and shake their red mantles in his face; his anger is aroused, he paws the ground with rage, shakes his huge head, and darts with fury at his foes. The excitement now com mences in earnest. The agility of these torreros, in avoiding the bull, is really astonishing. They dodge from one side to the other, throwing out their red mantles, upon which the animal wastes his strength, at the very moment you would imagine the individual to be lost. When all their artifice fails, and they find they can no longer stand before the furious animal, they run with the speed of a race-horse, and if too closely pursued often leap the high barrier which separates the arena from the audience. When the animal is sufficiently excited, the picadores approach, lance in hand, to offer combat. This is the commencement of a cruel batchery. The poor animal receives numerous thrusts with the lance, which he revenges by goring the horse in the most shocking manner. It is now that the horseman shows all his address, by wheeling and jumping, and, when he cannot avoid the onslaught of the ball, by raising his leg and inclining his body to the opposite side of the horse, so as to avoid the blow himself. It appeared to me that it would pain the most unfeeling heart to see these poor horses bleeding to death, with their entrails trailing on the ground, still obedient to the will of their rider, still courageous enough to face the infuriated animal. Sometimes the bull throws both horse and rider upon the ground, and rushes with fury on his prostrate foes. When these deadly struggles take place, and the life of man and horse appear to hang by a hair, the audience become excited to the highest pitch. The picador generally manages to fall on the opposite side, and thus leaves the horse a barrier between him and the bull, and makes his escape unharmed, amid the cheers of the spectators. Should he be wounded, however, or gored to death, which is not an uncommon event, he is immediately carried out, and replaced by a new combatant. When the bull manifests no disposition to fight, a signal being given, he is attacked with small arrows, armed with barbed iron points, which are thrust into his flesh. These cause exquisite pain, and the animal soon becomes furious. At this moment a matador, armed with a long sword, approaches the infuriated beast. The bull prepares himself for a rush upon his enemy; but the latter dauntlessly draws near, and, as the bull leaps at him, dexterously steps to one side, and endeavours, with one masterly thrust, to despatch him. This unequal combat of one man on foot against so powerful an animal excites the audience to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, especially if the matador is dexterous, and is enabled to give the deathblow at the first pass. When the thrust is true-when it strikes no bone, but glides under the left shoulder directly to the heart-death is almost instantaneous. The furious beast, which a moment before was so full of life and energy, falls prostrate at the feet of his conqueror, amidst the deafening shouts of the multitude. A gay team of mules, ornamented with flags and bells, now enters the arena, and the prostrate animal is dragged out at a rapid gallop. When a bull runs from his adversaries, and cannot be made to show fight, he is doomed to a dishonourable death. A long pole, armed with a sharp steel instrument in the shape of a crescent, is brought forth, and the animal is crippled by dividing the tendons of his legs; and after he is thus maimed, an assistant approaches, and pierces the spinal marrow with a short dagger. This cowardly operation is considered beneath the dignity of a matador or picador, and is left for their inferiors. Eight or ten bulls are usually sacrificed at one exhibition, and as many horses are often gored to death before the crowd disperses, and the approach of night puts an end to the sanguinary spectacle. Leaving Seville by the steamer, I descended the poetical Guadalquiver to Cadiz. For several leagues the banks of this river is charming. Orange-orchards, with their golden fruit, are seen on each side, and the verdant hills are embellished here and there with beautiful little country-seats. But soon the country becomes flat, treeless, and deserted, save by the wild bull, who roams here unmolested, until required for the amphitheatre. Toward evening we approached fair Cadiz, which appeared to rise before us like a fairy city from the sea, its white palaces and towers tinged with the last rays of the setting sun. This once populous and commercial city is now lifeless and inanimate. The harbour is almost without shipping, the quays are deserted, and everything looks like decay. It has few attractions for the stranger, and one is soon wearied with the dull monotony of the place. Sunday is the only day when the streets look lively, and then the Alameda is frequented by those bright-eyed beauties who have a world-wide reputation. Wandering along the gravelled walks of the Alameda, or seated in some quiet nook by the sea-wall, the stranger may pass many a pleasant hour in gazing upon those sunny faces of which Dona Julia is the type. Xeres, the great wine-mart of Spain, is about twelve miles from Cadiz. Although this is a town of thirty thousand inhabitants, the streets look so deserted, at some periods of the day, that one might suppose it to be uninhabited. It is only toward evening that it appears to awake, and become somewhat animated. Xeres is surrounded by vine-clad slopes, which yield a wine much more appreciated abroad than in Spain. It is very interesting to visit one of those immense wine-bodegas, or store-houses, where thousands of butts of this precious liquor are regularly arranged on each side, like files of soldiers. Sherry-wine undergoes a variety of processes before it is fit for the market. Wines of different ages, different flavours, and different vintages, are mixed together, in various propor tions, until a proper standard is obtained. This concocting of the wines devolves upon a very important personage called the capataz, who is regularly trained to the business, and passes his P life among wine-butts, tasting and correcting, one by the other, according to his judgment. The consumption of sherry in Spain is very trifling, as it is too strong for Spanish taste. Even the workmen in the bodegas, who are surrounded with it all day, seldom touch it, but prefer a lighter wine called Mansanilla, which grows in a neighbouring district. Returning to Cadiz, I took the English steamer for Gibraltar. Embarking at four o'clock in the afternoon, at about midnight the huge rock loomed up in the distance, and soon after we came to anchor off the town. about three miles, and its circumference seven miles. A flat, narrow strip of land, called the neutral ground, connects the rock with the mainland, so that, at a distance, the huge mass looks as if it were surrounded by water. Passing over this narrow strip, the traveller at once feels himself again in Spain. The sallow Spaniard takes the place of the florid-faced Englishman, and the little village on the borders of the neutral ground has a dirty, uncared-for look, which contrasts badly with the order and cleanliness which prevail at Gibraltar. Gibraltar is a dull place for a stranger, and Since the acquisition of Gibraltar by Sir after he has visited the fortifications, he will George Rooke, in 1704, who found it garrisoned generally be glad to proceed on his journey. with only eighty men, the English have been But, unfortunately, it is not always in his power gradually increasing its strength by adding to to leave when he may desire, as the steamers the fortifications; and, although it is now con- which run between Cadiz, Gibraltar, and the sidered impregnable, the works still go on. A Mediterranean coast of Spain, to Marseilles, only stranger may occupy his first day very well touch at stated intervals. I had eleven days in in inspecting the fortifications, which are built prospect before the arrival of the steamer ; with a solidity to defy time and the enemy. On eleven days of ennui, which I endeavoured to the second day he will procure a permit from cut short by taking one of those small craft the governor to visit the galleries tunnelled in called a felucca, to Malaga. the rock, which are very curious, and are the result of immense labour and expense. Here, at every few steps there is a port-hole, cut out of the rock, from which points a huge cannon. These batteries are so much elevated, that they are more for show than use; and, on the other hand, after one or two discharges, the smoke, which has no means of escape except through the port-holes, would be likely to suffocate the gunners. Gibraltar is a free port, and is a depôt for the commerce of various nations. It is the head quarters of the Spanish smuggler, who, notwithstanding the difficulties and dangers he has to encounter in the pursuit of his calling, carries on a thriving business. There are smugglers here of all grades. I was much amused by one of the inferior class of these worthies, in crossing over in a small steamboat to Algeciras, a Spanish town on the opposite side of the bay. As soon as the boat shoved off from the mole, the gentleman untied a small bundle, containing a variety of articles, and with great composure began to stow them away upon his person. He first placed about half-a-dozen silk handkerchiefs under his shirt, then put away a dozen or more gloves in the sleeves of his coat, pulled up his trousers, and filled his boots with stockings, and, finally stowed away about one hundred cigars in the red sash which he wore around his waist. On our arrival on the other side, I had the curiosity to watch our smuggler, to see how he would behave on landing. He did not manifest any hurry to get on shore among the first, and, when he landed on the mole lingered about among the officers, speaking familiarly to his acquaintances, and finally sauntered off deliberately, to disgorge his contraband articles in the back room of one of the best shops of the city. The rock is principally formed of grey limestone, and, at its highest point, is elevated one thousand five hundred feet above the level of he sea. Its length from north to south is I made a bargain with the captain of one of these vessels, and had my baggage sent down to the mole, when suddenly a swift levanter commenced blowing, which was a head wind, and I therefore had my choice of remaining on the rock, or of running the risk of being out at sea in an open boat for three or four days. The choice of evils appeared to me to be about equal, but after some reflection I decided to remain, and therefore packed off to the hotel again, bag and baggage. I passed the remaining days of my stay in wandering around the fortifications, scaling the rock to its flag-staff, and making excursions along the sea-shore, and over the neutral ground into Spain. I also crossed over a second time to Algeciras, on the opposite side of the bay, which is an old town containing about sixteen thousand inhabitants. What a contrast there is between this place and Gibraltar! In the latter place, we English have brought with us to a southern climate the English style of building-small glazed windows, small doors with brass knockers and door plates. Everything looks "stuffy;" while at Algeciras there are large portals, cool court-yards, immense windows reaching from the floor to the ceiling, without glazing, or any other contrivance to exclude the air. | After having been chained to the rock, like a second Prometheus, for two weeks, the Spanish steamer arrived, and I took passage in her for Malaga; and I do not remember ever to have left a place with less regret. Getting underway at about eight o'clock in the evening, we reached Malaga the next morning at day-light. Malaga is purely a commercial town, and more celebrated for its sweet wine and raisins, than for its literature and fine arts. It is said that the export of raisins amouuts to one million of boxes annually. The climate of Malaga is said to be superior to that of Italy during the winter season. The city is open to the south, and sheltered on the north by a range of mountains, whereby it is protected from the cold wintry blasts. There is a very excellent hotel here, which is much frequented by English invalids in the winter season, where one will find many English comforts not to be had in many parts of Spain. Malaga, has a very pretty Alameda, shaded with trees, and ornamented with a handsome marble fountain, where the higher classes promenade in the evening. The public buildings will hardly require any mention. The Cathedral is comparatively modern, having been commenced in 1538, and finished in 1719. Though a spacious edifice, it is devoid of architectural beauty, and contains no good paintings. The stranger should not leave Malaga without visiting one of the factories of clay-figures. These little statuettes are made to represent majos, contrabandistas, bull fights, and other national characteristics., with a truthfulness to nature that is really surprising. The finish, the painting, and the expression, together with the anatomical accuracy with which they are moulded, excite the admiration of all. Leaving Malaga for Alicante, we stopped for a few hours at Carthagena, once a naval post of great importance, but now in a languishing condition. The Marine Arsenal is on a large scale; but its basins, its docks, its foundries, and its rope walks are silent and deserted. Every thing appears to be suffering from neglect, and an air of gloom hangs over this once important place. Leaving Carthagena, we experienced a severe levanter, and our steamer was obliged to put into the small harbour of Santa Pola, after running about fifteen miles. We endured a penance of two days in this little port, being unable to land on account of the heavy sea running, or to continue on our voyage, owing to the severity of the gale. But the good and the evil things of this life have alike their end. On the morning of the third day of our detention, the wind abated sufficiently to allow us to proceed to Valencia. Valencia is situated about three miles from its port, and I was conveyed thither in a vehicle much used here, called a tartana, which is nothing more than a cart without springs, covered with a round top, and having the bottom made out of a netting of ropes. Crack went the whip, and away flew the horse at a full gallop, over one of the roughest roads it has ever been my misfortune to travel; and the jolting was so great that I was obliged to hold on to the sides of the vehicle to steady myself. Valencia is the capital and chief city of its province, and contains a population of one hundred and twenty thousand souls. It is sur rounded with tapia walls, and has eight gates, the towers and machicolations of which are extremely picturesque. The town, like all Moorish built towns, has narrow and tortuous streets, and high, gloomy-looking houses. The Cathedral is one of the least remarkable in Spain, and appears to be a mixture of the Gothic with the Corinthian style, which harmonize badly. There are some very fine paintings in the chapels and sacrista by Sassoferrato, Juanes, and Riberia. The two latter were natives of Valencia. In the Relicario is the Santo Calix, the cup used at the Last Supper. I believe there are several other churches which claim to have the cup, but the Sacristian assured me this was the true one. In the museo will be found a large collection of paintings taken principally from suppressed convents. A majority of them are poor, but among the number are several master-pieces by Pibalta, Ribera, and Juanes. The climate of Valencia is very favourable for invalids. In the winter season the air is soft and balmy, while during the summer the heats are tempered by the sea breeze. It is also one of the richest agricultural districts of Spain. Under a system of artificial irrigation bequeathed by the Moors, this huerta, or garden, as it is called, produces a never ending succession of crops. The Valencians are a much darker-looking people than any I have yet seen in Spain. They appear to be a gay, jovial, pleasure-loving race, but are said to be exceedingly fickle and treacherous. They are very prone to use the knife on the slightest provocation; and in no part of Spain are assassinations more common. While I was in Valencia, there were one or two murders committed in the street, and I was warned by my friends not to stray into any of the byways after dark. The costume of the lower classes is quite oriental. The men wear the sandal, with their legs naked, or covered with a kind of a gaiter, or stocking, without feet; pantaloons of white linen, made broad, and extending only a little below the knee; a gay jacket, with slashed sleeves; and over one shoulder is thrown the manta, a many-coloured plaid, which serves the purpose of a bed or a cloak. Leaving Valencia by steamer in the afternoon, on the following afternoon I was in Barcelona. On approaching the city, the stranger is somewhat surprised to see the smoke of numerous forges and factories, a sight not witnessed in any other part of Spain. All the new portion of the city is magnificently built; and the streets are wide and well-paved. Everything looks like good order and industry, wealth and prosperity, and presents a strong contrast to the other towns of the Peninsula. The Catalans, however, appear to be a distinct people; they differ in dialect and habits, and are extremely frugal and industrious. Here the picturesque costumes of Andalusia and Valencia disappear; the graceful mantilla is almost entirely replaced by the French bonnet, and the musical language of Spain is changed into a vile patois. I arrived in Barcelona in the midst of a great fête, in celebration of the recovery of the Queen from the wound she had received in the attempt made upon her life. All the public buildings and private mansions were decorated with flowers and rich drapery, the streets thronged with well-dressed people, and the Rambla, the fashionable promenade, crowded with the elite of the city. At one end of the promenade a richlyornamented tent was erected, where a fine band discoursed sweet music for those who wished to join in the dance. Near it was a greased pole, about forty feet high, which afforded constant amusement to a portion of the crowd, for the unlucky wight who attempted to climb it was almost sure to fail. If he succeeded in mounting to the top, he gained great applause, and in addition received a trifling prize. At night the city was brilliantly illuminated; bands of music were playing in every direction, and parties dressed in fancy costumes, holding large flambeaux in their hands, paraded the streets on horseback, and all the theatres were turned into ball rooms. To the pleasure-seeker, Barcelona presents few attractions; and, in fact, for all classes of travellers, except the commercial, a sojourn of two or three days will amply suffice. Barcelona terminates my journeyings in Spain, and I will conclude these brief sketches with a few passing remarks upon the people and the country. Those who have never travelled in Spain, or who are little acquainted with the manners and customs of the country, have an idea that all Spaniards are grave and formal, like the Castilian. This, however, is far from being the case. The people of each province are almost as dis tinct as different nations, having manners and customs, dress and dialect peculiar to themselves. This diversity is doubtless owing to the isolation of the different provinces by the chains of mountains which intersect the Peninsula, and cut off intercommunication, as well as to the fact that for ages these provinces formed separate and distinct kingdoms. The rude, boorish Gallician, the industrious Catalan, the idle, jovial Andalusian, the sly, vindictive Valencian, and the grave, dignified sons of Castile, differ from each other as much as the inhabitants of distinct nations. In travelling over this beautiful country, upon which Providence has lavished His choicest favours, and which, under the rule of the Romans and Moors was a land flowing with milk and honey, the tourist is struck with the scenes of desolation that everywhere meet the view. He roams over deshechas y despoblados, or wild unpeopled wastes, treeless and arid, where the melancholy picture is often heightened by ruined castles and villages, the signs of former prosperity passed away. The towns through which he passes are too often the abodes of poverty and wretchedness, and an air of gloom and sadness pervades their silent streets. The seaports have lost their former commercial importance; and the silent quays, once thronged by a busy crowd, attest the decayed condition of the land. And wherefore, it may be asked, is this poverty, desolation, and wretchedness so visible, in a country which possesses advantages unsurpassed by any in Christendom; where a fertile soil and every variety of climate admit of the productions of the tropical and temperate zones; where the bowels of the earth yield precious metals, coal, and quarries of innumerable varieties of marble; in fine, with a position most favourable to commerce, and a line of sea-coast abounding in fine harbours? Yes, wherefore is this beautiful and once flourishing land so fallen, her people so sunk in ignorance, and so far behind every other civilized nation in arts and agriculture? An answer may be found in these words-bad government! THE WOLVES. Ye who listen to stories told When hearths are cheery and nights are cold, By the wintry moon the belated sleigh- Swiftly vanish the wild fleet tracks Before the rifle and woodman's axe: |