favorable circumstances for noting their habits and customs. The broad pages of the sumptuous quarto* which was the result of this happy combination, afford ample opportunity for reproducing the architectural beauties of the Alhambra, the Escurial at Madrid, the mosque at Cordova, the Toledo Cathedral, the tomb of Ferdinand and Isabella in the Cathedral of Granada, the superb mountain views in which the Sierras abound; while the various aspects. of peasant, minstrel, gypsy, and beggar life, the vicissitudes of the smuggler's career, the dangers of diligence traveling in the mountains, bull-fighting, and the other customs peculiar to Spain, are all handled with a skill and effect which no artist but Doré has yet attained.

The artist and author covered so much ground in their travels, and reproduce and describe what they saw so thoroughly and exhaustively, that it would be useless to try to follow them in detail. We shall therefore content ourselves with culling here and there from their narrative some of the more striking sketches and pictures.

Perpignan is a town on the Gulf of Lyons, in the extreme south-eastern part of France. For the traveler who means to make a thorough tour of Spain, and who is not impatient to strike important points at once, it is an excellent point of departure. Junquera is the first village one finds after crossing the frontier. But the people of Catalonia, in which province Junquera is situated, hardly consider themselves Spanish. Their thrift and industry are in such strong contrast with the idleness of the Spaniards in general, that they have passed into a proverb. Thus, in some provinces the common phrase for going to shop or market is, "Go to the Catalonians." Another proverb says, "If you give stones to the Catalonian, he will extract bread from them."

Barcelona, the capital of Catalonia, is the first industrial city in the Peninsula, and is still as animated as it was in the days of Don Quixote and his faithful attendant Sancho Panza. In its leading characteristics the city resembles Marseilles, presenting nearly the same activity, the same mixture of diverse nationalities, and the same absence of any distinctive type. In the Cathedral of Barcelona is to be found some most

Spain. By the Baron Ch. Davillier. Illustrated by Gustave Doré. Translated by J. Thomson, F. R. G. S. I vol., large 4to. New York: Scribner, Welford & Armstrong.

carefully finished and patiently elaborated work, notably in the rejas which shut off the chapels. In the center of the cloister which contains these chapels is a charming fountain shaded by orange-trees. This cloister is made a sort of Cour des Miracles, and here a motley crew of importunate, whining vagrants are always to be found. "There is hardly any civilized country, unless it be Italy," remarks Baron Davillier, "where one sees mendicity establish itself in broader daylight, and with less ceremony than in Spain. Full of dignity, one might almost say pride, the Spanish beggar wraps himself in the remains of his mantle, and goes armed with an immense stick, used to drive off the dogs, which by instinct are hostile to men of his type. Shrouded in his rags, he philosophically carries on his profession or his art-which you please—as his highest ambition is to be accounted an accomplished mendicant. A modern Spanish author who has paid special attention to this subject assures us that in many families the profession becomes hereditary; the children religiously observe the precepts of those who have grown old in the arts of mendicity, and are not slow to profit by the hard-won experience of their teachers. Thus the veteran knows full well how to portion out his time and lay his plans for each day's campaign, so that by appearing in a certain place at a time carefully determined beforehand, his tatters, tricks, and misery will meet with their fullest reward."

The ancient prison of the Inquisition may still be seen in Barcelona. It is a massive, gloomy building, pierced with a number of narrow windows. Beyond the walls of the town is the Prado de San Sebastian, the site of the Quernadero, "where heretics were consumed by fire for the good of the faith." Never was edifice more purely in harmony with its design, and the famous Torquemada, the model inquisitor, the great burner of heretics, ought to have found it to his taste.

Keeping along the eastern coast of Spain, our travelers visited Tarragona and Valencia. When Baron Davillier first went over this route, some years previous to this trip with Doré, there was no railroad, and brigands were said to infest it. According to the tales of travelers, no one then ever set out without preparing for some adventure, and those who lived to return, if they had not been actually attacked, had barely escaped, and could tell at least one tale of mysterious Spaniards, wrapped alike in their mantles and the gloom of night, or disappearing

SMUGGLERS OF THE SERRANIA DE RONDA.

coachman paid a regular blackmail, which was contributed by the passengers; and, curiously enough, the members of the band always knew when and where to receive this tribute. Sometimes the chief of a band, having earned a competency by

accounts, and was fully instructed in the secrets of the profession. In spite of these very attractive stories, alas! our travelers never saw, far or near, the figure of a single brigand, although they frequently traversed the roads and rocky defiles recommended as the most likely and dangerous. Still these bandits are now and then heard of, and as recently as 1871 they displayed enterprise and boldness enough to stop a railway train near Sierra Morena, and rob the passengers. Traveling by diligence is, of course, still in vogue where the railways have not penetrated, and this method of progression

These hardy smugglers know all the most difficult passes of the sierras, which they frequently cross with burdens on their backs, and carbines slung over their shoulders, clinging with their hands to the projecting ledges on the perpendicular rocks. Strange to relate, these traders are often on the best of terms with the authorities of the villages through which they pass, never neglecting to offer a packet of fragrant cigars to the alcalde, tobacco to his scribe, and an attractive silk handkerchief to la señora alcaldesa. They almost always reach their destination without let or hinderance. Nevertheless, they are at times surprised by a band of carabineros, when they wake the echoes of the sierras with the reports of their retacos. This, however, is a very rare occurrence, as it pays better to settle amica

PLAY OF THE CAPE.

not engaged in commerce, devotes his hours of leisure to spending, with reckless prodigality, the money he has gained at the peril of his life. He passes his time at the taberna, either playing at monte (a game at cards of which he is passionately fond), or in relating his adventures, taking care to moisten his narrative with frequent bumpers of sherry, remojar la palabra, to soften his words, according to

the common Andalusian

phrase. As might naturally be expected, and notwithstanding his brilliant opportunities, the contrabandist who does the work rarely accumulates a fortune, while wealth and honor seem to wait upon the hacienta with whom he shares his gains. He frequently ends his days in prison or the presidio. It is said that many of the smugglers, when trade is languid, take to the road and to lightening travelers of their baggage and

money, an operation invariably conducted with the utmost courtesy. It is probable that this report does them no injustice, as the profession of smuggler is a sort of apprenticeship to that of highway robber.

Bull-fights are still, as they have been from time immemorial, the favorite and standard amusement of the Spanish populace. The courses are regularly held at Madrid. every Sunday, from Easter to All Saints' Day. In provincial towns they are only held from time to time, on the occasion of the principal fêtes, and rarely during the winter months, as the cold renders the brutes much less furious; besides this, as a major

ity of the spectators are exposed to the air, they would run the risk of being frozen to death in their seats in a climate like that of Madrid, where the winter frosts are quite as keen as in Paris. In Andalusia and Valencia the mildness of the climate sometimes admits of winter courses; at Seville,

to the hospitals, which are partly supported by letting the plaza to the contractors for the courses. The plaza at Madrid is let for about 7,000 francs for the single course, and the bulls-some of them-cost as much as 800 francs a head. The number of bulls killed on a single occasion varies between six and eight, and sometimes the public demands a toro de gracia, which swells the number to nine. Some days before a corrida, the town is placarded with bills of gigantic proportions and all colors, giving a detailed programme of the fight. In these bills, not only the names of the bulls and their assailants are given, but the pedigree, not of the men, but of the brutes to be slaughtered, is carefully recorded. Smaller programmes are issued, having blank spaces, on which the spectators delight to jot down the harrowing events of the fête. There are few, if any, of the witnesses of a bull-fight who are not careful to exhibit their passion for the sport by keeping a record of the dif

or wounded by eight bulls, which had themselves received twenty-nine thrusts in exchange for twenty-four falls of the picadores.

Passing over Baron Davillier's discussion of bull-fighting in its historical aspects, we condense a detailed account which he gives of a corrida witnessed at Valencia, merely premising that in the splendid action of the animals and their antagonists, as well as in the enthusiastic demonstrations of the audience, Doré finds ample scope for exhibiting the power of his pencil. Sunday, as is invariably the case, was the day selected for the fête, which promised to be a splendid one.

Following the crowd, the travelers were soon lodged in the front row of the amphitheater, impatient to witness the drama about to be played. The plaza presented one of those spectacles which can never be forgotten. There were some fifteen thousand spectators, in brilliant costumes, the effect of which was heightened by a