winding lanes and picturesque ruins; while the people themselves, grave, dignified and formal, real Castellanos viejos, as antiquated in appearance as their city, form not the least uninteresting part of the picture. From Toledo to Aranjuez there are only six leagues, the road passing through the valley of La Sagra, and in sight of the Tagus, which in this part of its course did not realize to me the dreams of the poets who have painted it in such glowing colours. Aranjuez is a small, modern-built town, without importance, except that it contains a royal palace, which is occasionally made the summer residence of the Queen. The town is approached through an avenue of pine trees, which leads to the Plaza de San Antonio, upon which one of the façades of the royal residence is situated. Among the four Posadas in the place, I was fortunate enough to hit upon one kept by an Englishman. Mine host was a stout, roundfaced, good-humoured-looking person, who did not appear to have exchanged roast-beef for olla, in changing his country. He had lived in Aranjuez for twenty odd years, but he had not lost his nationality, nor forgotten English comfort. I was ushered into a snug parlour, where a genial fire was blazing upon the hearth, and in the course of a half-hour I sat down to a most capital old-fashioned English dinner, which commenced with roast-beef, and finished with plum-pudding. The royal palace was commenced by Philip II., and finished by Philip V. The building covers a large surface, but it is without architectural beauties, and, like everything in Spain, is suffering for want of repairs, both inside and out. The apartments appeared to me small, and wanting in the usual elegance which characterizes the abodes of royalty. Being a sunimer residence, great labour and expense have been bestowed on the gardens, which are very beautiful. Situated upon an islet between the Tagus and Jarama, these rivers supply abundance of water for irrigation, very necessary in this parched-up country, and for the numerous fountains and artificial cascades which beautify the grounds. The trees are magnificent, and the finest we have seen in this almost treeless land; they are said to have been brought from England by Philip II. The ornaments of art are in bad taste, and entirely unworthy of the garden. The fountains are mean in comparison with those at Madrid, and the statuary, nearly all of which is painted plaster, looks out of place among the avenues of noble trees. The Casa del Labrador, or house of the labourer, situated in the midst of the gardens, is well worthy of a visit. This is a miniature palace similar to that one at the Escurial, and was likewise built for Charles IV. It is a charining little plaything, which art, luxury, and taste have combined to beautify and render attractive. The staircases are of marble and jasper, the floors in beautiful mosaic, and the walls hung in white satin, covered with landscapes embroidered by hand, which must have been the result of great labour. Meeting with some friends at Aranjuez, I proposed to them to hire a private conveyance to Granada, which would enable us to stop at our pleasure, and to see more of the country and people than if we took the diligence, which travels night and day. I therefore consulted with mine host, who thought the thing practicable; and we sallied forth in search of a vehiculum. After inspecting several curious, antiquated four-wheeled machines, we fixed upon one which we thought would prove most convenient for our journey, aud forthwith struck a bargain with the owner. The next morning, at daylight, our coach, drawn by three stout mules, driven by a gaily-dressed cochero, appeared before the hotel-door, and, fortified with a good breakfast, we set forward upon our journey. We were now about to enter La Mancha, the scene of the exploits of the famous Don Quixote and his honest, faithful Sancho Panza. This province, like the Castiles, forms a part of the great central plateau of Spain. The eye of the traveller roams over a vast expanse of treeless mountainous steppes, scorched up by the summer's heat, and exposed to all the fury of the cutting wintry blasts. The towns are few, and without interest; and the wretched villages are inhabited by a poorly-clad and halfstarved-looking race of labourers. Passing through a rocky gorge of volcanic hills, we soon reached Ocana, an uninteresting town, containing a population of about five thousand persons. Continuing our way, we also passed Madrilejos, a town of about seven thousand inhabitants, and in the evening ar rived at Puerto Lapiche--a small, dirty-looking place, where we spent a most uncomfortable night in a shocking posada. The next morning, at daylight, we continued our route, and the country, if anything, appeared to grow more uninteresting, and the inhabitants more poverty-stricken. About mid-day we arrived at the Venta de Quesada, which the Don mistook for a castle, and where he performed his vigil-of-arms, and was knighted by the innkeeper. This is a iniserable one-storey mud or adobie hut, used at present as a barrack for the civil guard stationed on this part of the highway. The house is, perhaps, little changed since the day it was sketched by Cervantes. The well is still there, where he makes the old knight perform his vigil-of-arms; and it is doubtless the original one, for it presents the appearance of great antiquity. In the evening we arrived at Valdepenas, a town of about ten thousand inhabitants, where we were fortunate enough to find a very comfortable inn. I have before remarked the want of fireplaces in Spanish houses, and after a very short expe rience I found out that the kitchen was a most capital place to warm one'-self after a long ride, and to smoke a cigar after supper. Indeed, in the small towns the kitchen is quite a fashionable place of resort, where I have picked up much useful information, and made many agreeable and valuable acquaintances. In this very place, I had hardly seated myself on the cosy stone bench in the chimney-corner, before a young gentleman in white vest and white gloves, who was sipping a cup of chocolate, fell into conversation with me, and finding me to be a stranger, invited me to a societyball to be given that evening, and of which he was one of the managers. I accepted his invitation with much pleasure, and passed a most agreeable evening among the élite of Valdepenas. So much for an acquaintance made in the kitchen. Valdepenas is celebrated for its wine, which is said to be the product of the Burgundy vine, transplanted into Spain. It is a red wine, of a rich fruity flavour, and when drunk on the spot, is most delicious; but when transported, it is put into pig-skins, which impart to it a disagree able taste. The reader will remember that it was with pig-skins filled with this ruddy wine that the Knight of La Mancha created such havoc, to the sorrow of the inn-keeper. Mine host was a vine-grower, and had a bodega or wine-cellar in his establishment, which he invited me to visit. The wine was contained in immense tinajas, or earthen-ware jars, about seven feet in height, and of a goodly rotundity. A boy placed a ladder against one of these, and ascended to the top with a tumbler, which he filled with the sparkling liquor, and handed to me. It was delicious, and I drank nearly the whole of it. He went on a little farther, and ascended another jar, where he filled and handed me the glass, of which I likewise partook. The operation was repeated the third time; and as I saw no end to the different vintages the old gentleman wished me to taste, my politeness could hold out no longer, and I was obliged to decline taking any more, at the risk of offending him. From Valdepenas we proceeded to La Carolina, passing through the small town of Santa Cruz, and leaving dreary La Mancha, through its natural gate-way, Despena perros. Passing through this narrow mountain-gorge, we were welcomed into fair Andalusia, by one of the most gorgeous sun-sets I have ever witnessed. The whole west was of that glorious gold-andcrimson hue, deepened towards the horizon, which is only seen in these southern latitudes. We had now arrived on the threshold of tropical vegetation. We leave the barren, treeless steppes of La Mancha, for those blooming valleys where the olive and the graceful palm beautify the landscape. This is the province of song and of the dance; of the sequidilla, the bolero, and the fandango; and the hot-bed of the smuggler, the bullfighter, and the bandit. The inhabitants are gay, social, and without formality, the very opposites of those grave, dignified Dons of Castile and La Mancha. At Carolina, a neat-looking town of three thousand inhabitants, we found a good inn, where we remained all night. After a tolerable supper, our landlady sent out for a couple of her neighbours, very pretty dark-eyed Senoritas, who gave us a specimen of Andalusian dancing to the music of a guitar, struck by no less a personage than our cochero. They performed the fandango, the sequidilla, and the bolero, with a grace and an abandon which I have seldom seen equalled on the stages of London or Paris. These were the originals, the others only the copies. Leaving Carolina, we traversed a hilly country, passing through a few small villages, and the miserable town of Bailen. Just beyond this place we stopped at a small road-side inn, to rest and feed our animals. Here we found assembled several engineers, engaged in superintending repairs upon the road, one of whom was endeavouring to strike a bargain with another for a gun. The one who wished to purchase forthwith loaded, and a mark put up at some asked permission to test the piece, and it was thirty yards distant. The gun was fired at the mark, but unfortunately more of the contents issued through the touch-hole than through the end of the barrel; the nipple was carried away, which grazed the individual's head, and passed through the rim of his hat. most wonderful escape; and the engineer atIt was a tributed it to a miracle, and immediately went into the inn to search the calendar for the saint on whose day it had taken place, promising all manner of offerings to him. It never entered into this man's head to thank God for his escape; he could go no farther than the saint of the day, who was so obscure that he did not even know his name. ceived Jaen in the distance, lying under its Continuing our way, toward evening we percastle-mounted hill; and in about an hour after, we entered the gates of this venerable old town. Our cochero took us to the inn of El Santo Rostro, when we told him to take us to the Café Nuevo. We did not perceive our error until we had alighted; when one of our party became very much incensed, and took the cochero to task for bringing us to the wrong place. The landlady in the meantime had come out to the door, but upon finding the state of the case immediately retired. Our cochero got very sulky under the scolding; said he did not know where the Café Nuevo was, and that the Santo Rostro was the best posada in the town. And this was all true enough; for we found out, on inquiry, that the Café Nuevo had been out of existence for several years. tunately, we had so much affronted the landlady But, unforof the Santo Rostro, that she refused to take us into her house. This was terrible news, after our long fast and hard day's ride. But what was to be done? Our spokesman, after the illhumour he had at first manifested, could say nothing to mollify the enraged dame, and there appeared nothing left for us but to sleep out all night in our coach. As a last resort, I thought I would attack the old lady in a different way; for I had often heard it said that in Andalusia it is necessary to go into an inn with your hat in your hand therefore, stepping up to her, I made a polite bow, and said there must be some misunderstanding in the matter; that we were strangers, and that we were not well acquainted with the language; and that it was doubtless owing to this that my friend and the cochero had differed as regards the house we were to stop at. I begged she would not take any offence at what had passed, for none was intended; and, making a low bow, I turned to enter the carriage. This coup de grace was successful. She invited us all to get out, gave us the most comfortable rooms in the house, and treated us with the utmost attention during our stay. As the Santo Rostro is the type of an Andalusian inn, it may not be uninteresting for those who contemplate a visit to Spain to give a slight sketch of it. A large arched door-way, which served alike for man and beast, gave entrance to the interior of the house. On one side of this was the stable, and on the other the kitchen, without any partition between them. Opposite the great entrance was the stair-case leading to the upper part of the building, devoted to the lodging of the better class of travellers. The rooms were small, and without mat or carpet to cover the rough tile floor; and the furniture consisted of a cot, whereon was a very hard bed, and two chairs, upon one of which there was a very small basin and pitcher. This want of the appliances of the toilet is noticed throughout Spain, but especially in Andalusia, where there appears to be a holy horror against ablution. Among the Moors, cleanliness is a part of their religion; and the Spaniards, in avoiding all the abominations of that hated race, have rushed to the other extreme in this particular. Having arrived after a long fast, as soon as we had inspected our apartments, I descended to the kitchen to forage for supper; for in a Spanish inn no smiling landlord comes to inquire into your wants. Every one is indifferent to your coming and your going, and whatever you get appears to be granted as a favour. Around the fire were seated a half-dozen muleteers, whose dark features, lighted up by a few smouldering embers upon the hearth, gave them the appearance of so many cut-throats. But, with that innate politeness of the Spaniard toward a stranger, they all rose, and offered me the best place in the chimney-corner. On inquiring into the state of the larder, our hostess informed me there were partridges; and these the traveller will find a standing dish throughout Spain. Now a partridge is a very good bird when properly cooked, but when stewed in one of those small round earthen-ware pots called a puchero, with garlic and rancid oil, it is most execrable. "Is there anything else, Senorita ?" said I. "Yes, your worship, there are eggs, out of which I will make you a nice omelet." "Bueno! I will take the omelet; and if you will be so good as to give us some bread and grapes, we will be much obliged to you." Preparations were forthwith begun for the omelet. A huge frying pan was taken down from the wall and placed over the fire, into which was put a large piece of dirty-looking lard; by the time the grease had become boiling hot, the eggs were prepared and poured into the pan. One side of the omelet being done, the pan was lifted from the fire, when immediately every one rose and retreated, as if they had received an electric shock. The cause of this sudden movement was soon made evident. In order to turn this immense omelet on the other side, the hostess gave a flirt to the pan, which caused the mass to turn a somersault in the air and fall again into the scalding fat, which it spattered about in all directions. One unlucky wight received some of the burning liquid in his face, much to the amusement of the rest of the party, and apparently to the great gratification of the landlady, whose sour-looking countenance relaxed for a moment into a smile. After our meagre supper at the Santo Rostro-which was nevertheless much enjoyed, for it was well seasoned with the sauce of hunger-we retired for the night; and although our beds were on a par with the other accommodations, this did not prevent us from enjoying sweet repose. Its Jaen is an old Moorish town, containing about seventeen thousand inhabitants. situation is extremely picturesque, standing like a sentinel at the entrance of the mountaingorge which leads to Granada. It has a pretty alameda, and a handsome cathedral, which was built in 1525. The great relic, Santo Rostro, the Holy Face of our Saviour impressed upon the handkerchief of Santa Veronica, when she wiped the perspiration from His brow, is contained in the cathedral, and shown publicly on stated occasions. I endeavoured to get the sacristan to show it to me, but he said it was impossible without an order from the bishop. After leaving Jaen, our next day's journey brought us to Campillo de Arenas, the road passing through a beautiful valley, where the hedge was of gigantic aloes, and the graceful palmtree added a charm to the novel and picturesque landscape. Continuing our journey, the valley widened as we advanced; the Sierra Nevada with its crest of eternal snow rose before us; and as the last rays of the setting sun gilded the beautiful scene, fair Granada appeared in view. Seated at the base of several hills, with the beautiful rega, or plain, spread out before it, the snowy mountains in the back ground, and the far-famed Alhambra looming from its lofty eminence, it formed one of the most enchanting scenes I have ever witnessed, and well merits the boast of the Granadians, who say; ་ Quien no ha visto a Granada, The first object of attention was the Alhambra, all that the age could produce in art and which the Moors styled the Palace of Pearls. This immense structure is built upon an eminence which overhangs the city, and the long lines of tapia, or reddish mud-walls and towers which surround it, disappoint the stranger, and give him little idea of the beauty of the interior, The Moors adopted this plain exterior for their palaces to avert the effects of the Evil Eye, and to mask the interior splendour of their abodes of oriental voluptuousness. Ascending a steep street, I arrived at La Puerta de los Granadas, a large stone gate-way which gives entrance to the grounds of the Alhambra. Continuing my ascent through avenues of stately trees, where the sound of fountains and running waters produced a pleasing effect on the mind, which prepared it for the enjoyment of the enchanted spot, I arrived at La Puerta de Justicia, the Gate of Judgment, where formerly the king, as in theeast, dispensed justice. Over the horse-shoe arch of the gateway is seen a hand and key. The first of these symbols was probably intended to represent power; and the second, which is the great emblem of Mussulman faith, denotes the authority given to the Prophet to open and shut the gates of heaven and hell. Passing onward through the gate, and thence through a narrow wall-enclosed lane, I entered the Patio de los Algibes, or the Court of the Cisterns, under which are immense tanks filled from the river Darro, which supplies the most wholesome water to the city. To the left of this deserted, half-ruined court, arise a long line of walls and towers. One of the latter is La Fosse de la Vela, where tradition says the Christian flag was first hoisted over these Mussulman walls. The view from this tower is one of the most glorious the eye ever gazed upon, Below lies fair Granada, with its palaces, its churches, and its gardens; and beyond expands the ever-blooming Vega, studded with villas and villages, and enclosed by mountain walls, from whose snowy crests flow numerous fertilizing streams, gleaming like burnished silver amid the green fields. To the left rise the snowcapped Alpujanas; then the distant sierra of Alhama; then the gorge of Loja; while to the right is the distant mountain-chain of Jaen. On the left-hand side of the Patio de los Algibes stands the palace of Charles V., who, Vandal-like, pulled ed down down the beautiful winter palace of the Moors, to construct an abortion por. luxury. The entrance to the summer-palace of the Moors lies in a corner, hidden from view by the palace of the Emperor. A modest door, like the door of a posada, ushers the visitor into this fairy-like edifice. On one side of the door hung a string, wich I pulled, and in a few moments a small, ill-looking man opened to me, and I entered the Patio de los Arayanes, or the Court of Myrtles. The form of this court is an oblong square, the greater part of which is occupied by a basin of water of the same shape, surrounded by myrtles, and fringed with a narrow bed of flowers. The beholder is at once enchanted with the novel and beautiful scene. The slender marble columns which support the light porticoes surrounding the court, the wonderful lacelike workmanship in plaster which embellishes the portals, the windows, and the walls, appear the realization of the fairy palace of our youth. To the left of the entrance is the magnificent Hall of the Ambassadors, which was the reception room of state. Passing through a beautiful vestibule, I entered this vast chamber, the pavement of which is marble, and the walls richly ornamented with exquisite stucco-work, which is so delicately wrought that it resembles a fabric of lace. Retracing my steps through the Patio de los Arayanes, I passed through a door-way and anteroom into the Court of Lions. This court is also in the form of an oblong square. It is surrounded by a gallery, supported by oue hundred and forty pillars of white marble, with most exquisitely carved capitals. The columns are sometimes grouped and sometimes single; but they are so slender, and their capitals so delicately open-worked, that they scarcely seem equal to the support of the lace-work arches; and indeed, from sundry iron braces to be seen, it would appear that the weight of the gallery has been too gre great in many places, owing to the unsightly red-tile roof which was put on, about a century since, to replace the lighter Moorish fabric, which had fallen to ruin. In the centre of the court is the Fountain of Lions. This is a magnificent basin, cut out of one piece of beautiful white marble, supported on the backs of twelve or fourteen lions, There are several halls which open upon this court, To the right is the Hall of the Abencerrages. In the centre of this chamber a large fountain is set into the white marble pavement, on one side of which are some ferruginous stains, which my guide pointed out as the blood-marks of the Abencerrages massacred here by Boabdil. On each side of this hall there are several alcoves set into the thick walls, which are entered under beautifully wrought arches, supported by delicate marble columns. The roof is lofty, and presents that peculiar hanging appearance resembling stalactites. The centre of the vault represents the escutcheon of the Kings of Granada, with the motto, Le galib ile ALLAH-God only is great. Opposite the Hall of the Abencerrages, on the left-hand side of the court, is the Chamber of the Two Sisters, so called on account of two | present condition gives a faint conception of large white marble slabs which form a greater part of the pavement. The entrance to this hall passes under some most exquisitely ornamented arches. This chamber is somewhat larger than the one last described, but its decorations are similar. The only light it receives is through several sınall oval windows, placed just below the lofty vaulted ceiling, which throw a dreamy, voluptuous, half day-light through the apartment. At the extremity of this sala, opposite the entrance, there is a beautiful little alcove, used as the boudoir of the Sultana, from which a window looks upon the Patio de Lindaraja, a charming little court surrounded by columns, and ornamented with flowers and shrubbery. Returning to the Court of Lions, in front of the door of entrance is the Sala de Justicia, the Hall of Justice, which is in the form of a gallery, divided into three parts. The ornamentation of the walls and arches of this hall is exceedingly rich. The ceiling is covered with curious frescoes, representing chivalrous and amorous subjects, which are well worth examination, as they are doubtless correct representations of the costume of the times. After having viewed the Patio de los Liones and the halls which surround it, I was conducted up a staircase, and through a gallery to a square tower, on the top of which is a small room, ornamented with frescoes and arabesques, and surrounded with a light colonnade. This is called El Tocador de la Reyna, or Dressingroom of the Queen; and it must have been a charming retreat during the heats of summer. Every breeze has access there, and the eye may wander with never-ending pleasure over one of the most beautiful landscapes that nature ever formed. Descending again, and passing through the Patio de Lindaraja, I entered the baths, which are one of the best-preserved portions of the Alhambra. The azulejos, or curiously painted tiles which cover the lower part of the walls, and the immense marble slabs which form the pavement, are in perfect preservation. The arrangement of the baths is similar to that still used in the east. They are constructed of white marble, in the form of large square basins. I ascended now to the top of the Tower of Comares, from whence the eye embraces the whole edifice, and overlooks the town and surrounding country. To the north was the Albaycin, the most ancient part of Granada, with its quaint old houses and narrow streets, that scarcely seemed wide enough to give passage to a corpulent man; to the east extended a long line of walls which enclose the Alhambra, and beyond arose the magnificent Sierra Nevada, with its eternal snow; to the south was the palace of Charles V.; to the west, the towers of El Homenaje and La Vela; and beneath, court-yards, towers, and walls, many of which had fallen to ruin, while others were fast crumbling to decay. Such was the Alhambra as I saw it; but its what it was in its days of splendour, ere time and the destroyer's hand had commenced their work, and when its thirteen hundred towers, each with their warder, crested the hill; when the blue and gold colouring had not faded from the fairy-like lace-work on the walls; when the thousand fountains had not ceased to charm the senses, nor the voice of music to float through those halls of oriental voluptuousness. Yet, in spite of time and the destroyer's hand, this structure still delights the eye of every beholder; and as the stranger wanders through its silent halls, and the history of the past comes back upon him with all its stirring incidents, he appears to tread upon enchanted ground. Evening is the witching time to visit this spot; for when seen by the pale light of the moon, the ravages of time are hidden from sight, while the imagination, awakened by its dreamy light, may re-people this charming abode with the children of the past. The airy form of the beautiful Zoraya may again flit across the marble halls; the dusky Moor may be seen musing amid the shadows of the trees, and the voice of song, mingling with the sound of fountains and running waters, may once more reëcho through these marble halls. Nothing can be more charming, then, than the Court of Lions, with its marble galleries and its slender columns, with their filagree capitals and light open-worked arches. Enveloped in the pearly light, they appear like the work of the enchanter's wand, the realization of our dreams of a fairy palace. Not far from the Alhambra, but occupying a still more elevated position, is the Generalife, a palace used as a summer-residence by the Moorish princes. Only a small portion of this building, however, still remains. The fagade presents a series of porticoes supported by marble columns, and the principal entrance opens upon a large saloon covered with arabesques, and containing several beautifully arched doorways, giving entrance to smaller apartments. But all the delicate lace-work of the Moor has been covered up with white-wash, which the Spaniard has not spared on any Moorish building. The terrace-garden is beautiful. The river Darro is led through the grounds in every direction, and the murmur of running waters is heard everywhere beneath the thickets of roses and myrtles. The visitor will be shown a venerable cypress-tree, said to have been planted by Abul-Walid in 1332. It was under this tree that the frail and beautiful Zoraya, wife of Abulhasan, was discovered with her lover, the Abencerrage. The kingdom of Granada is one of the most fertile portions of Spain. The Sierra Nevada, or Snowy Ridge, supplies its beautiful valleys with perpetual streams of fertilizing water, producing a never-ending succession of crops. This kingdom was the last home of the Moors in Spain, who fled hither from the Christian advance; and it became the centre of their various arts and sciences, as well as of their agriculture and commerce, Granada, under |