SPAIN is by no means so difficult a country to reach, nor so inconvenient to travel in after one has got there, as is generally supposed. Doubtless the obstacles which it presented to the tourist until within a few years were great; and much that is disagreeable still remains to vex those who are accustomed to the smoother ways, and carefully-oiled machinery for travel, of regions more civilized. But the establishment of a system of railroads, describing an outline that passes through nearly all the places which it is desirable to visit, has supplied a means of transit sufficient, safe, and passably comfortable. The other disadvantages formerly opposed to the inquiring stranger are likewise in process of diminution. In order to make clear the exact state of things likely to be encountered by those who, having followed the present writer in his account of a rapid journey, may determine to take a similar direction themselves, this chapter of suggestion is added, which it is hoped will have value in the way of a practical equipment for the voyage.

Patience.—The first requisite, it should be said, in one about to visit Spain, is a reasonable amount of good-humored patience, with which to meet discomforts and provoking delays. The customs of that country are not to be reversed by fuming at them; anger will not aid the digestion which finds itself annoyed by a peculiar cookery; and no amount of irritation will suffice to make Spanish officials and keepers of hostelries one whit more obliging than they are at present—their regard for the convenience of the public being just about equal to that of the average American hotel clerk or railroad employÉ.

Passports.—Next to patience may be placed a passport; though it differs from the former article in being of no particular use. I observe that guide-books lay stress upon the passport as something very important; and, no doubt, it is gratifying to possess one. There is a subtle flattery in the personal relation, approaching familiarity, which an instrument of this kind seems to set up on the part of government toward the individual; there is a charming unreality, moreover, in the description it gives of your personal appearance and the color of your eyes, making you feel, when you read it, as if you were a character in fiction. Following the rules, I procured a passport and put it into a stout envelope, ready for much use and constant wear; but all that it accomplished for me was to add a few ounces of weight to my impedimenta. No one ever asked for it, and I doubt whether the military police would have understood what it was, had they seen it. My experience on first crossing the frontier taught me never to volunteer useless information. Our trunks had been passed after a mere opening of the lids and lifting of the trays, and an officer was listlessly examining the contents of my shoulder-bag. Thinking that he was troubled by the enigmatic nature of a few harmless opened letters which it contained, I said, re-assuringly, as he was dropping them back into their place, "They are only letters."

"Letters!" he repeated, with rekindled vigilance. And, taking up the sheets again, of which he could not understand a word, he squandered several minutes in gazing at them in an absurd pretence of profundity.

If I had insisted on unfurling my country's passport, I should probably have been taken into custody at once, as a person innocent enough to deserve thorough investigation. Nevertheless, a passport may be a good thing to hold in reserve for possible contingencies. It is said also to be of use, now and then, in securing admission to galleries and museums on days or at hours when they are generally closed to the public; but of this I cannot speak from experience.

Custom-house.—We had no great difficulty with examinations by custom-house officers, except at Barcelona, where we arrived about one o'clock in the morning and had to undergo a scene excessively annoying at the time, but comical enough in the retrospect. Being desirous to embark on the hotel omnibus in search of quarters, we hastened to the baggage-room to claim our trunks by the registry receipt given us at Valencia; but the "carbineer" explained that we could not have them just then. After waiting a little, we took out keys and politely proposed to open them for examination. This, also, he declined. I then offered him a cigar, which he accepted in a very gracious way, giving it a slight flourish and shake in his hand (after the usual manner), to indicate his appreciation of the courtesy; but still he made no motion to accommodate us in the matter we had most at heart. Some agreeable young Scotchmen, who had joined our party, urged me to make farther demonstrations, and I conferred with the omnibus-driver, who explained that we must wait for some other parcels to be collected from the train before anything could be done; accordingly, we waited. The other parcels arrived; the policy of inaction continued. Meanwhile, several French commercial travellers, who had journeyed hither by the same train in all the splendor of a spurious parlor-car, chartered for their sole use, had proceeded around the station, and now attacked the bolted doors at the front of the baggage-room with furious poundings and loud bi-lingual ejaculations. But even this had no effect. I therefore concluded that the object of the "carbineer's" strategy was a bribe; and, for the first and only time in our journey, I administered one. Getting him aside, I told him confidentially, with all the animation proper to an entirely new idea, that we were anxious to get our belongings examined and passed promptly, so as to secure a resting-place some time before day, and that we should be greatly obliged if he would assist us. At the same time I slipped two or three pesetas into his hand, which he took with the same magnanimous tolerance he had shown on receiving the cigar. This done, he once more relapsed into apathy. All known resources had now been exhausted, and there was nothing to do but wait. With dismay I stood by and saw my silver follow the cigar, swallowed up in the abyss of official indifference that yawned before us; and to my companions, who had just been envying me my slight knowledge of Spanish, and admiring my tact, I became all at once a perfectly useless object, a specimen of misguided imbecility—all owing to the dense unresponsiveness of the inspector, whose incapacity to act assumed, by contrast with my own fruitless energy, a resemblance to genius. The oaths and poundings of the French battalion at the door went on gallantly all the time, but were quite as ineffectual as my movement on the rear.

Finally, just when we were reduced to despair, the guard roused himself from his meditations, rushed to the door, unbolted it to the impatient assailants, and passed everything in the room without the slightest examination.

The whole affair remains to this day an enigma; and, as such, one is forced to accept every trouble of this kind in the Peninsula. But, as I have said, matters went smoothly enough in other places. Every important town, I believe, collects its imposts even on articles brought into market from the surrounding country; and at Seville we paid the hotel interpreter twenty cents as the nominal duty on our personal belongings. I have not the slightest doubt that this sum went to swell his own private revenue; at all events, no such tariff was insisted upon, or even suggested, elsewhere. The only rule that can be given is to await the action of customs officials without heat, and, while avoiding undue eagerness to show that you carry nothing dutiable, hold yourself in readiness to unlock and exhibit whatever you have. In case a fine should be exacted, ask for a receipt for the amount; and, if it seems to be excessive, the American or British consul or commercial agent may afterward be appealed to.

Extra Baggage.—One point of importance in this connection is generally overlooked. Only about sixty pounds' weight of luggage is allowed to each traveller; all trunks are carefully weighed at every station of departure, and every pound over the above amount is charged for. Hence, unless a light trunk is selected, and the quantity of personal effects carefully reduced to the least that is practicable, the expense of a tour in Spain will be appreciably increased by the item of extra baggage alone. Baggage of all kinds is registered, and a receipt given by which it may be identified at the point of destination. It is important, however, to get to the station at least half an hour before the time for leaving, since this process of weighing and registering, like that of selling or stamping tickets, is conducted with extreme deliberation, and cannot be hastened in any way. On diligence routes the allowance for baggage is only forty-four pounds (twenty kilograms). A good precaution, in order to guard against unfair weighing, is to get one's trunk or trunks properly weighed before starting, and keep a memorandum of the result.

Tickets, etc.—It is unadvisable to travel in any but first-class carriages on the Spanish railroads; and the fare for these is somewhat high. But a very great saving may be made, if the journey be begun from Paris, by purchasing billets circulaires (circular or round-trip tickets), which—with a limitation of two months, as to time—enable the tourist to go from Paris either to San Sebastian, on the Bay of Biscay, or Barcelona, on the Mediterranean, and from either of those points to take in succession all the cities and towns which it is worth while to visit. A ticket of this kind costs only about ninety dollars, whereas the usual fare from Paris to Madrid alone is nearly or quite forty dollars. The billets circulaires may be obtained at a certain central ticket-office in the Rue St. HonorÉ, at Paris, to which the inquirer at either of the great Southern railroads—that is, the Paris-Lyons and the Orleans lines—will be directed. The list of places at which one is permitted to stop, on this round-trip system, is very extensive, and a coupon for each part of the route is provided. It must be observed, however, that when once the trip is begun the holder cannot return upon his traces, unless a coupon for that purpose be included, without paying the regular fare. He must continue in the general direction taken at the start—entering Spain at one of its northern corners, and coming out at the opposite northern corner, after having described a sort of elliptical course through the various points to be visited. And this is, in fact, the most convenient course to take. It is also prescribed that at the first frontier station, and at every station from which the holder afterward starts, he shall show the ticket and have it stamped. Occasionally, conductors on the trains displayed a tendency to make us pay something additional; but this was merely an attempt at imposition, and we always refused to comply. Should the holder of one of these tickets have a similar experience, and be unable to make the conductor comprehend, the best thing to do is quietly to persist in not paying, and, if necessary, have the proper explanation made at the end of the day's trip.

Journeys by steamer are not included in this arrangement; but we got our steamer tickets at Malaga remarkably cheap, and in the following manner: Two boats of rival lines were to start in the same direction on the same day, and the interpreter, or valet de place, attached to our fonda, volunteered to take advantage of this circumstance by playing one company off against the other, and thus beating them down from the regular price. So he summoned a dim-eyed and dilapidated man, whilom of the mariners' calling, to act as an intermediary. This personage was to go to the office of the boat on which we wanted to embark, and tell them that we thought of sailing by the other line (which had, in fact, been the case), but that if we could obtain passage at a price that he named, we would take their steamer; in short, that here was a fine chance of capturing two passengers from the opposition. The sum which we handed to our dim-eyed emissary was seventy-five francs; but, while he was absent upon his errand of diplomacy, the interpreter figured out that we ought to have given him eighteen more, and we quite commiserated the poor negotiator for having gone off with an insufficient supply of cash. Imagine our astonishment when he returned and, instead of asking for the additional amount which we had counted out all ready for him, laid before us a shining gold piece of twenty-five francs which he had not expended! Deciding to improve upon his instructions, he had paid only fifty francs for the two passages. We certainly were amazed, but the interpreter was still more so; for he had evidently expected his colleague to say nothing about having saved the twenty-five francs, but to pocket that and eighteen besides for their joint credit (or discredit) account. He controlled his emotions by a heroic effort; but the complicated play of stupefaction at his agent's honesty, of bitter chagrin at the loss involved, and of pretended delight at our remarkable success, was highly interesting to witness. I have always regretted that some old Italian medallist could not have been at hand to mould the exquisite conflict of expression which his face presented at that moment, and render it permanent in a bronze bass-relief. As it was, we gave each man a bonus of five francs, and then had paid for our tickets only about half the established rate.

Personal Safety.—Risk of bodily peril from the attacks of bandits, on the accustomed lines of travel in Spain, need no longer be feared. The formidable pillagers who once gathered toll along all the highways and by-ways have been suppressed by the Civil Guards, or military police, a very trustworthy and thorough organization, which really seems to be the most (and is, perhaps, the sole) efficient thing about the government of the kingdom. Of these Guards there are now twenty thousand foot and five thousand horse distributed throughout the country, keeping it constantly under patrol, in companies, squads and pairs, never appearing singly; and where there are only two of them, they walk twelve paces apart on lonely roads, to avoid simultaneous surprise. They are armed with rifles, swords, and revolvers, and are drawn from the pick of the royal army. Some time since there occurred a case in which two of these men murdered a traveller in a solitary place for the sake of a few thousand francs he was known to have with him; but the crime was witnessed by a shepherd lad in concealment, and they were swiftly brought to trial and executed. This instance is so exceptional as to make it almost an injustice even to mention it; for, as a rule, perfect dependence may be placed on the Guards, who are governed by military law and possess a great esprit de corps. A strong group of them is posted in every city; at every railroad station, no matter how small, there are two members of the force on duty, and two more usually accompany each train. The result of all these precautions is that one may take his seat in a Spanish railroad-carriage absolutely with less fear of robbery or violence than he might reasonably feel in England or America. The only instance of banditti pillaging a railroad-train that is known to have occurred while I was in Spain, was that of the James brothers in Missouri, whose outrages upon travellers, in our peaceful and fortunate Republic, were reported to us by cable, while we were struggling through the imaginary perils of a perfect police system in a country that knows not the subtleties of American institutions. And, while we were thus proceeding upon our way, an atrocious murder was committed in a carriage of the London and Brighton Railway, which was not the first of its kind to set the English public shivering with dread and horror.

Even the diligence now appears to be as safe as the rail-carriage. But it should be clearly understood that, when one goes off the beaten track and attempts horseback journeys, he exposes himself to quite other conditions, which it is absurd to expect the police to control. An acquaintance tells me that he has made excursions of some length in the saddle, in Spain, meeting nothing but courtesy and good-will; but he took care to have his pistol-holsters well filled and in plain sight. To travel on horseback without an armed and trusty native guide (who should be well paid, and treated with tact and cordiality) is certainly not the most prudent thing that can be done; but solitary pedestrianism is mere foolhardiness. A young French journalist of promise, known to be of good habits, had been loitering alone about Pamplona a short time before the date of my trip, and was one morning found murdered outside of the walls. While I was in the South, too, as I afterward learned, an Englishman, who was concluding a brief foot-tour in the North, attempted to make his way in the evening from San Sebastian to Irun, on the frontier: he was captured by bandits, kept imprisoned for a week in a lonely hut, and doubtless narrowly missed coming to his death. His own account of his escape gives a vivid idea of the treatment that may be expected from the rural population by anybody who gets into a similar predicament.

"I resolved," he says, "to strive for liberty. Having worked out a stone, which I found rather loose in the wall near me, and having taken advantage of the darkness of my corner, I gnawed asunder the cord that bound me. I made for the door, which opened into the other apartment, and there being but one guard left over me—the others being off on some expedition—I watched for an opportunity. Presently it was afforded me. As the fellow sat with his back toward me, resting his head upon his hands, I stole forward, holding my stone in readiness, and with one blow laid him on the floor. Then, snatching up a knife from the table, I ran out, and after wandering among the mountains most of the night found myself at daybreak on the high-way, my feet cut with the stones and my strength gone. I fainted. On coming round I attempted in vain to rise, when, two men coming along with a bullock-cart, I asked for help. All they did was to prod me with their goads and march on. The laborers were now returning to their work in the fields, and seeing my attempt to regain my feet, several of them pelted me with clods. I had little strength left, but at last I managed to get on my feet, and having rested a while to regain my strength, I staggered along to the town and waited upon the English vice-consul, who kindly provided me with food and clothes, after which I accompanied him before the governor of the province, to make my statement." The Spanish Government do not acknowledge responsibility for proceedings of this kind on the part of their people; hence it is doubtful whether in such a case the victim, after all his peril and suffering, can even recover the value of what has been stolen from him. But it is perfectly, easy to keep out of the way of such adventures.

In the Hotel de los Siete Suelos, at Granada, it is true that the night-porter used to strap around his meagre waist, when he went on duty, a great swashbuckler's sword, as if some bloody nocturnal incursion were impending. But whatever the danger was that threatened, it never befell: the door of the hotel always remained wide open, and our bellicose porter regularly went to sleep soundly on a bench beside it, with his weapon dangling ingloriously over his legs. No one ever seemed to think of using keys for their hotel rooms except in Madrid; and so far as any likelihood of theft was concerned, this confidence seemed to be well justified. Many articles that might have roused the cupidity of unambitious thieves, and could easily have been taken, were left by my companion and myself lying about our unlocked apartments, but we sustained no loss.

Language.—One cannot travel to the best advantage in Spain without having at least a moderate knowledge of French; or, still better, of Spanish. Railroad employÉs, customs officers, guards, and inn-keepers there, as a rule, understand only their native tongue. Now and then one will be found who has command of a very few French words; but this is quite the exception, and even when it occurs, is not of much use. At the hotels in all places frequented by foreigners there are interpreters, who conduct transactions between traveller and landlord, and act as guides to places of public interest. For services of this kind they must be paid seven or eight francs a day, certainly not more, and in the smaller towns less will suffice. These interpreters always speak a little French; but their English is a decidedly variable quantity. Of course, people constantly make their way through the kingdom on the resources of English alone; but it is obvious that in so doing they must miss a great many opportunities for curious or instructive observation; and even in viewing the regulation sights the want of an easy medium of communication will often cause interesting details to be omitted. The possibility of employing a courier for the whole journey remains open; but that is a very expensive expedient, and greatly hampers one's freedom. Enough Spanish for the ordinary needs of the way can be learned in a month's study, by any one who has an aptitude for languages. Italian will by no means take the place of it, although some acquaintance with that language may facilitate the study of Spanish; the fact being kept in mind, however, that the guttural character of Spanish is quite alien to the genius of Italian speech, and comes more naturally to one who knows German. If the tourist have time enough at his disposal, it is well to take quarters somewhere in a casa de huespedes, or boarding-house, for two or three weeks, in order to become familiar with the vernacular.

Manners.—There is a superstition that, if you will only keep taking off your hat and presenting complimentary cigars, you will meet with marvels of courteous response, and accomplish nearly everything you want to, in Spain. But the voyager who relies implicitly on this attractive theory will often suffer disappointment. It will do no harm for him to cool his brow by a free indulgence in cap-doffing; and to make presents of the wretched government cigars commonly in use will be found a pleasanter task than smoking them. In fact, a failure to observe these solemn ceremonies places him in the position of a churlish and disfavored person. But, on the other hand, polite attentions of this kind are often enough met by a lethargic dignity and inertia that are far from gratifying. Under such circumstances, let the tourist remember and apply that prerequisite which I began with mentioning—good-humored patience. I found my companions by the rail or at tables d'hÓte sometimes considerate and agreeable, at others quite the reverse, and disposed to ignore the existence of foreigners as something beneath notice. I remember once, when Velveteen and I, obliged to change cars, had barely time, before the train was to move again, to spring into a compartment pointed out by the conductor, we found there a well-dressed but gross Spaniard, of the wealthy or noble class, who had had the section marked reservado, and the curtains carefully drawn. He sprang up from his nap with a snort, and glared angrily at the intruders, then burst into a storm of rage and expostulation, most of which he discharged out of window at the conductor: but, finding that he could get no satisfaction in that way, he subsided into sullen disdain, paying no attention to my "Buenas dias" ("Good-day"), and making his dissatisfaction prominent by impatient gestures and mutterings from time to time. Owing to the cost of baggage transport, too, the natives generally carry a large number of bundles, bags, and miniature trunks in the first-class as well as other carriages—thus avoiding any fee—so that it is often difficult to find a place for packages, or to pass in and out; and those who thus usurp the room are apt to look with cynical indifference at the perplexities of the latest comer, whom they leave to shift for himself as well as he can. Nevertheless, it is an almost universal custom that any one who produces a lunch during the ride, offers it to all the chance company in the compartment before partaking of it himself. It is a point of politeness not to accept such an invitation, but it must be extended just the same as if this were not the case. In one respect the Spaniards are extremely polite—that is, in showing strangers the way from point to point. Frequently, the first man of whom you inquire how to get back to your hotel, or elsewhere, will insist upon accompanying you the whole distance, in order to make sure that you do not go wrong; and this although it may lie entirely out of his own direction. Such a favor becomes a very important and desirable one in the tortuous streets of most Spanish towns.

Among themselves the rule is that all ranks and classes should treat each other with respect, meeting on terms of a grave but not familiar equality: hence they expect a similar mode of address from strangers. When all the conditions are fulfilled, their courtesy is of the magnificent order—it is serious, composed, and dignified. Each individual seems to be living on a pedestal; he bows, or makes a flowing gesture, and you get an exact idea what it would be like to have the Apollo Belvedere receive you as a host, or a Jupiter Tonans give you an amicable salutation.

As in America, however, it is usually not easy to get information from those who are especially hired or appointed to give it. The personal service of the railroads, with rare exceptions, is ungracious and careless. One must be sure to ask about all the details he wants to know, for these are seldom volunteered. There is a main office (called Despacho Central) in each city, where you may buy tickets, order an omnibus for the station, make inquiries, etc. At the one in Toledo I presented our circular tickets for stamping, on departure, and asked several questions about the train, which showed the agent plainly what line we were going to take. When we reached Castillejo, I found that, in spite of all this, he had allowed us to take a road on which the tickets he had stamped were not valid, and we were forced to pay the whole fare. Neither will conductors be at the pains to shut the doors on the sides of the cars; passengers must do this for themselves. I had travelled all night in a compartment, and in the morning, wishing to look out, I leaned against the door, and it instantly flew open. As it was on the off-side when I got in, it was at that time already closed; but I now discovered that the handle had not even been turned to secure it. The superficial way in which people do things over there is seen in the curious little fact that, from the time of leaving France until that of our return, we could nowhere get the backs of our boots blacked, though repeatedly insisting on it; the national belief being that trousers conceal that part of the shoe, and labor given to improving its appearance would therefore be thrown away.

The demand for fees is in general not so systematic or impudent as in England; but when one intends to stay more than a day in a place, better attendance will be obtained by bestowing a present of a franc or two, although service is included in the regular daily rate of the hotel. Finally, the Spaniard with whom one comes most in contact as a tourist is peculiarly averse to being scolded; so that, whatever the provocation, it is better to deal with him softly.

Hotels, Diet, etc.—The Spanish hotels are conducted on the American plan; so much a day being paid for room, fare, light, heat, and service. This sum ranges commonly from $1 50 to $2 00 a head, except where the very best rooms are supplied. The foreigner, of course, pays a good deal more than the native, but it is impossible for him to avoid that. Sometimes coffee after dinner is included in this price, but coffee after the mid-day breakfast is charged as an extra; and so are all wines except the ordinary red or white Val de PeÑas, which are supplied with both meals. Nothing is furnished before the breakfast hour excepting a cup of chocolate, some bread, and, possibly, butter. One should always see his rooms before engaging them, and also be particular to ask whether the price named includes everything, otherwise additional items will be foisted upon him when the bill is settled. Confusion in the account may be avoided by paying for all extras at the moment of obtaining them.

Those who are unaccustomed to the light provend furnished for the morning will do well to carry a stock of beef-extract, or something of the kind. Cow's milk is difficult to get, and such a thing as a boiled egg with the chocolate is well-nigh unheard of. The national beverage is the safest: warm chocolate, not very sweet, and so thick that it will almost hold the spoon upright. Coffee in the morning does not have the same nutritive force; indeed, quite otherwise than in France and Germany, it appears to exert in this climate an injurious effect if drunk early in the day—at least, a comparison of notes shows it to be so in summer. Rather more attention should be given to diet in Spain than in the countries above named, or in England and Italy, owing to peculiarities of the climate and the cookery. Whoever has not a hardy digestion runs some danger of disturbance from the all but universal use of olive-oil in cooking; but, with this exception, the tendency is more and more toward the adoption of a French cuisine in the best hotels of the larger cities, and various good, palatable dishes are to be had in them. The native wines are unadulterated, but strong and heavy. Owing to something in their composition, or to the unpleasant taste imparted by the pig-skins, they are to some persons almost poisonous; so that a degree of caution is necessary in using them. Water has the reputation of being especially pure in all parts of the kingdom, and of exercising a beneficial influence on some forms of malady. It certainly is delicious to drink.

There is much greater cleanliness in the hotels, taking them all in all, than I had expected; but the want of proper sanitary provision, omitting the solitary case of the Fonda Suizo at Cordova, where everything was perfect in this respect, leads to a state of things which may be described in a word as Oriental—that is, barbarous in the extreme, and scarcely endurable. On this point professional guide-writers are strangely silent. A wise precaution is to carry disinfectants. A small medicine-case, by-the-way, might with advantage be included in the equipment proper for travel in the Peninsula.

We touched the nadir of dirt and unsavoriness, as you may say, in our first night at the Fonda del Norte, in Burgos; and there the maid who ushered me to my room warned me, as she retreated, to be careful about keeping the doors of the anteroom closed because, as she said, "There are many rats, and if the doors are open they run in here." But luckily the rest of our experience was an agreeable decline from this early climax. There is another hotel at Burgos, the Raffaele, which, as we learned too late, is—in complete contradiction of the guide-books—clean and pleasant. On the practical side, that voyager will achieve success who plans his route in Spain so as to evade the Fonda del Norte at Burgos, which is the stronghold of dirt, and the Hotel de Paris at Madrid, which takes the palm for extortion. Naturally, in exploring minor towns or villages, one must be prepared to face a good deal of discomfort, since he must seek shelter at a posada or venta, where donkeys and other domestic beasts are kept under one roof with the wayfarer, and perhaps in close proximity to his bed and board. But among the inns of modern type he will get on fairly well without having to call out any very great fortitude.

Expense of Travel.—From what has been said about circular tickets and hotel prices, some notion can be formed as to the general cost of a Spanish expedition. Housing and transportation should not be reckoned at less than six dollars a day; and allowance must next be made for guides, carriages, admission fees, and so on. Altogether, ten dollars a day may be considered sufficient to cover the strictly necessary outlay, if the journey be conducted in a comfortable manner; but it is safer to assume one hundred dollars a week as the probable expense for one person, and this will leave a margin for the purchase of characteristic articles here and there—a piece of lace, a little pottery, knives, cheap fans, and so on. This estimate is made on the basis of first-class places en route, and of stops at the best hotels. It could be materially reduced by choosing second-class hotels, which is by no means advisable when ladies are of the party; and, even with the better accommodation, if small rooms be selected and a careful economy exercised in other directions, sixty dollars a week might be made to do. To dispense with the aid of the local guides is no saving, if the design be to move rapidly; because, without such assistance, more time has to be spent in getting at a given number of objects.

Mail-service, Telegrams, Books, etc.—The mails are conveyed with promptness and safety, it appears; although at Malaga I observed a large padlocked and green-painted chest with a narrow aperture in it, lying on the sidewalk in no particular custody, and learned that it was a convenient movable post-office. Furthermore, it is bewildering to find, after painfully travelling to the genuine post-office (the CorrÉo), that you cannot buy any stamps there. These are kept on sale only at the shops of tobacconists, whose trade likewise makes them agents of the governmental monopoly in cigars, cigarettes, etc. The tobacconists' stores bear the sign Estanco (stamp-shop); and, after one is accustomed to the plan, it becomes really more convenient to obtain one's postage from them. To weigh large envelopes or packages, however, the sender must resort to the CorrÉo. International postal cards may be had, which are good between Spain and France, and other rates are not high. Those who intend to pass rapidly from point to point will do well to have all correspondence directed to the care of the American consul or vice-consul—or, if in Madrid, to the legation there. There is no difficulty about letters addressed in English, provided the writing be plain. At the first city which he touches the tourist should ascertain from the representative of his nationality the names of all representatives in the other places he expects to go to, so that he can forward the precise address for each place, and himself be informed just where to apply for letters or counsel. In cases where there is no time to take these measures, the plan may be followed of having letters addressed poste restante at the various points; but they must then be called for at the post-office, and at each town orders should be left with the postmaster to forward to some farther objective point any mail-matter expected at that town, but not received there. In requesting any service of this kind from consuls, do not forget to leave with them a proper amount of postage.

Telegrams may be sent from all large places, in English, at rates about the same as those which prevail elsewhere; but if it is intended to send many messages by wire, a simple code ought to be arranged with correspondents beforehand, to save expense. Telegrams have to be written very carefully, too; I attempted to send one from Granada, but made a slight correction in one word—a fact which caused it to be brought all the way back from the city to my hotel on the Alhambra hill, with an imperative request that it should be rewritten and returned free from the least scratch or blot.

Whatever books you may wish to consult on the journey should be provided at the very start, in America, London, or Paris: ten to one you will not find them in Spain. It is pleasant, for example, to refer on the spot to an English version of "Don Quixote," or the French "Gil Blas;" or Prescott's "Ferdinand and Isabella," and the "Columbus," the "Conquest of Granada," and "Tales of the Alhambra," by Irving. ThÉophile Gautier's "Voyage en Espagne" is another very delightful hand-mirror in which to see your own observations reflected. But none of these are obtainable except, possibly, in Madrid and Barcelona; and even there it is not certain that they will be found. These two cities are the head-quarters, however, for such Spanish books as may be required.

Bankers and Money.—Little need be said on this point, beyond suggesting the usual circular letter of credit, except to forewarn all persons concerned that they will be charged and must submit to very heavy commissions and exchange at the houses where their letters entitle them to draw. Another particular which it is essential to note is the uncertain currency of certain silver coinage in Spain, and the prevalence of counterfeit pieces. Strangers must fight shy of any kind of peseta (equivalent to a franc) except the recent and regulation ones, though there are many dating from earlier reigns than Alfonso's, which will pass anywhere. The small money of one province frequently will not be received in another; and it happened to me to preserve with great care a Barcelona peseta, which I found unavailable everywhere else, and had accepted by an oversight in Sevilla, in the confident hope that I could get rid of it at Barcelona itself; but I discovered that that was exactly the place where they treated it with the most contempt. Hence it is best, before leaving one province for another, to convert your change into gold pieces of twenty-five pesetas worth, or into silver dollars (which are called duros), worth five pesetas each.

Here, however, let it be noted that the one infallible course to prevent deception is to ring on some solid surface of wood or stone every gold or silver coin you receive at the hotel, the banker's, or anywhere else. If it give a flat sound, no matter what its real value may be, great trouble will be had in passing it; hence, you must in that case refuse to take it. For example, a five-dollar piece was given me which failed to yield the true sound; and though it was perfectly good, having merely become cracked, I could do nothing with it, even at the Madrid banker's; finally getting its value in silver, by a mere chance, from a professional money-changer of more than common enlightenment.

Never give a gold piece to a waiter or any one else to be changed, unless the transaction is effected under your own eye; for, if he carries the coin away out of your sight, a substitution will very likely be made, and you cannot then get rid of the uncurrent money which will be forced upon you. The precaution of ringing or sounding money, on receipt, is so general that no one need feel any hesitation at practising it, however it may seem to reflect upon the person who has proffered the coin. Spanish gold pieces in small quantity may with advantage be bought in Paris. On the other hand, it is well to carry more or less Napoleons with you, because French gold is trusted, and passes with slight discount. The traveller should be provided with both kinds. Always and persistently refuse Spanish paper.

Buying Bric-À-brac, Lace, etc.—Those who wish to purchase characteristic products of the country, ancient or modern, need not fear that opportunity will be wanting; but the most obvious means are not always the best. The interpreters or guides attached to hotels are in most places only too anxious to aid in this sort of enterprise; but it is because they wish to dispose of some private stock of their own, for which they will surely demand double price. By courteous but decided treatment they may be led to make most astonishing reductions from their first demand; and this channel is accordingly, if properly handled, often as good as any other. Guides in Cordova will offer an assortment of old hand-made lace, and introduce you to the silversmiths who there manufacture a peculiarly effective sort of filigree in ear-rings, shawl-pins, brooches, and other forms. Cordova is the best place in which to get this kind of ware; but if lace be the object sought, Sevilla or Barcelona is a much more advantageous market. Machine-made lace, which is now the favorite kind among Spanish ladies, and has been brought to a high degree of delicacy, can be obtained in the greatest variety and on the best terms at Barcelona, where it is made. Many foreigners, however, prefer the hand-made kind; and these should explore Sevilla in search of what they wish, for they can there get it at reasonable prices. In this connection it is to be premised that the assistance of some personal acquaintance among the Spaniards themselves, if it can be had, will always effect a considerable saving; and, when time can be allowed, the best way always is to make inquiry and prowl around among the stores for one's self. There are few professed antiquarian and bric-À-brac salesrooms out of Madrid; but one can often pick up what he wants in out-of-the-way places. Perhaps the best towns in which to buy the peculiar gay-colored and ball-fringed mantas, or mantles of the country, and the equally curious alforjas used by the peasantry, are Granada and Valencia. In Toledo there is a very peculiar and effective sort of black-and-gray felt blanket, with brilliant embroideries; that city, like the two just mentioned, being a centre of textile industry. The purchase of costumes in actual use, from the peasants themselves, which is something that artists may find useful, can be accomplished after due bargaining, and by the intervention of the professional interpreter.

The pottery and porcelain of Spain exhibit a great variety of beautiful shapes, many of them doubtless Moorish in their origin; and some kinds are invested with a bold, peculiar coloring, dashed on somewhat in the Limoges style, but very characteristic of the climate and landscape in which they are produced. The abundance of unusual and graceful forms constantly suggests the idea of making a collection. I shall not attempt to specify the localities most favorable for the carrying out of this idea; because, so far as my own observation went, there seemed to be material worth investigating almost everywhere. The common unglazed bottles and jars made and used by the peasantry in the South, however, are especially attractive, and are met with only in that part of the country. They are likewise nearly as cheap as the substance from which they are made. At Granada, too, there is manufactured a heavy blue-and-white glazed ware, turned with refined and simple contours, of honest elegance. Formerly barbers' basins moulded on the Spanish plan—that is, with a curved piece cut out at one side—were made of porcelain; and these may still sometimes be picked up in Madrid junk-shops or antiquarian lairs. They are not always good specimens of decorative art, but they are curious and effective. Part of an extensive collection I saw, which had recently been made by an American gentleman; and I could imagine that, when hung upon the wall by his distant fireside across the Atlantic, they would form an interesting series of trophies—a row of ceramic scalps, one might say, marking the fate of so many vanquished dealers.

Old furniture, heavy with carving or marvellously inlaid according to traditions of the Moors—monumental pieces, such as were to be seen in the loan collection of Spanish Art at the South Kensington in 1881, and are sparsely imported into the United States—offers larger prizes to those who search and pay. Many relics of ancient costume, dating from the period of courtly splendor; rich fabrics; embroideries; sacerdotal robes and disused altar-cloths; and occasional precious metal-work, may farther be unearthed in the bric-À-brac shops. With due care such objects will often be obtained at moderate cost. But it is to be remembered that the price paid on the spot forms only one item. Transportation to the final shipping-point and the ocean freightage are very high; amounting in the case of cheap articles to far more than the original outlay for their purchase.

Seasons for Travel.—A question of very great moment is, what time of year should be chosen for a sojourn in Spain? The answer to it depends entirely upon the organization of the person asking, and his object in going. For a simple trip in search of novelty, the voyager being of good constitution, it makes little difference. From the first of June until the first of October the heat, in almost any spot south of the Pyrenees, will be found severe. From the first of October until the first of June, severe, cold, treacherous changing winds, snow, and ice will be encountered, save in a few favored localities hereinafter to be named, under the head of "Climate for Health." Of the two extremes, summer is perhaps to be preferred; because the voyager at that time knows precisely what he has got to prepare for and can meet it, whereas winter is a more variable emergency. A person of good constitution, understanding how to take care of himself in either case, and with an eye to local habits as adapted to the season, may go at any time. Autumn and spring, however, are obviously the ideal seasons for a visit. From a comparison of authorities, and from my own observation of a part of the summer, I should advise going during the period from October 1 to December 1, or from April 1 to June 1. A tour involving more than two months' time, of course, must pass these limits. For hardy and judicious travellers there is no objection to a sojourn including June and July; although it must be said that sight-seeing at the South during these months is more in the nature of endurance than of recreation. I encountered no serious local fever or other ailment due to hot weather, excepting a kind of cholera referred to in one of the preceding chapters, called el minuto (the minute), at Sevilla. By beginning a trip at the southern end of the Peninsula and gradually working along northward toward France, four months from March 1 or April 1 could be utilized without any unusual discomfort.

Routes.—The topic just discussed necessarily has a good deal to do with the selection of a route, which, from the position of the country, must be made to begin from the North or from the South.

Let us notice, first, the general lines of approach from different quarters.

From New York direct, for example, one may sail for Cadiz in steamers of the Anchor and Guion lines, or in the Florio (Spanish) steamers, which last I have heard spoken of in favorable terms by authority presumably good. From London there are two lines of steamers: one, Messrs. Hall's, leaving weekly for Lisbon, Gibraltar, Malaga, and Cadiz; the other, Messrs. MacAndrew's, leaving London three times a week for Bilbao and the principal ports on the Mediterranean. For any one wishing to visit Spain alone, these form the cheapest and nearest means of reaching the country. To go by steamer from London is, however, very obviously a slower way than to take the rail from the English capital to Paris and thence to the frontier, either at Irun and San Sebastian, or at Barcelona by way of Marseilles and Perpignan. So that, where speed alone is the object, one may take a fast steamer from New York to Liverpool, use the rail thence to London, and arrive in Burgos, for instance, about fifty hours after leaving London. The through train from Paris for Spain leaves in the evening. Voyagers from the East and Italy, designing to pass through Spain on their return westward, can embark on the Peninsular and Oriental steamers, or those of the Messageries Imperiales.

When one passes through France, on the way, it is possible to buy a Continental railroad guide, which gives all the trains in Spain and France, and the connection of one system with the other across the boundary. This is to be recommended as an exceedingly useful document.

It may as well be remarked here that the information ordinarily given in books about the coasting steamers from one port to another along the Mediterranean coast of Spain is as untrustworthy as it is vague. The precise date of departure from any given town on the coast for the other ports to the north-east or south-west is not very easy to ascertain, except in the town itself. One or another steamer, however, is pretty sure to sail from Cadiz, Malaga, Valencia, and Barcelona two or three times a week; so that one can scarcely fail of what the Germans call an "opportunity." There is undoubtedly a difference in the various lines, as regards comfort and swiftness of progress; but it is not true, as the guide-books assert, that the French steamers alone are good, and that the Spanish are dirty and comfortless. We personally inspected two boats in the harbor of Malaga before making choice; one was French and the other Spanish, and we found the latter much the more commodious and cleanly. But, then, it is possible that some other Spanish line than the one we selected may be inferior to some still other French line which we did not see. Everybody can satisfy himself, by simply viewing whatever steamers happen to be on hand for the trip, before engaging passage. The accommodations on all of them seem to be of a kind that would not be tolerated for a day in America; but they compare well with those of the best boats on the English Channel, being fairly on a level with the incomplete civilization of Europe in respect of convenience, privacy, and hygiene. The cabins become close and unwholesome at night, and few staterooms are provided. These last are built to receive from four to six persons, who may be total strangers to each other; hence, any one who wishes to be independent of chance comers must betake himself to the deck at night, or else make special arrangements to secure an entire room before starting.

Again, on the railroads, many journeys have to be made at night; and it is seldom that one can secure a sleeping-coach. On much-travelled lines these are usually bespoken a week in advance. Failing to get the wagon-lit, as the sleeping-car is called, after the French fashion, one may sometimes engage a berlina, which is simply the coupÉ or end compartment of a car. This, being made to seat three persons instead of six, is allowed to be reserved. It costs about two dollars for a distance of one hundred miles.

The route to be followed in any particular case has, in the nature of things, to be determined by the purpose and circumstances of the tourist. One may make a geological and mineralogical tour, inspecting the mountains and the mines of Spain, and find his hands tolerably full at that; or, one may wend his way to the Peninsula solely to study the achievements of the former national schools of painting there, in which case Sevilla and the picture-gallery at Madrid will be his only objective points—the latter chief and almost inexhaustible. The architectural treasures of Spain constitute another source of interest sufficient in itself for a whole journey and months of study. But those who go with aims of this sort will find all the advice they need in guides and special works. What will more probably be sought here is merely an outline for the wanderer who sets out to obtain general views and impressions in a brief space of time. Him, then, I advise, if the season be propitious, to enter Spain from the north, pursue in the main a straight line to the southern extremity; and then, having made the excursion to Granada—which in the present state of the railways must be a digression from the general circuit—proceed along the shores of the Mediterranean toward France again. In this case his trip will arrange itself in the following order:

The preceding estimate includes the time to be allowed for going from place to place; but, as will be seen, the total includes some extra days occurring in the count where an option is suggested. To accomplish all that is laid down here in two months, however, would be very close and hard work; in order to go over the ground comfortably, an extra week or two should be allowed. The great advantage of entering the kingdom by way of San Sebastian is that the first impression of the Pyrenees is much finer there than by way of Perpignan to Gerona and Barcelona. One also plunges immediately into the heart of ancient Spain on touching Pamplona and Burgos; and these lead in the most natural and direct way to Valladolid (the old capital and the place where "Don Quixote" was written), to Salamanca, Avila, Segovia, and the Escorial. Furthermore, after Madrid has intervened between North and South with its mingling of past and present, the succession of interest follows an ascending scale through Toledo, Cordova, and Sevilla, culminating at Granada. Next, the Mediterranean route presents itself as something having a special unity of its own, with a recurrence to special phases of antiquity again in Zaragoza, Monserrat, and Gerona. If, on the other hand, we begin with Barcelona and go southward before coming up to Madrid, we receive a first impression less striking and characteristic, and also pluck the most ideal flowers—Granada, Sevilla, Cordova—before coming to Madrid. Taken in the light of such a contrast, Toledo, Avila, Burgos, and the rest of the northern places will seem less attractive than when grouped together in an introductory glimpse, as a prelude to the more poetic South.

Supposing, however, that the traveller lands at once in Cadiz, from the deck of a steamer, he must put all this fine theory aside, and make the best of the case. His programme will then depend on whether he proposes to end by going into France, or to return without crossing the Pyrenees. In the latter event, he might do well to follow the rail to Sevilla, Cordova, Toledo, and Madrid; then visit the Escorial, Avila, Segovia, and afterward strike off abruptly to the north-east, through Zaragoza and Monserrat to Barcelona, coming down the coast again either by rail or steamer to Valencia, and reserving Granada until near the end. After Granada, a return to Malaga and a touch at Gibraltar would deposit him exactly where he started from, at Cadiz.

Should he wish to wind up in France, the situation is more complicated. He must then take Gibraltar first, come back to Sevilla, go to Granada, thence to Cordova and Toledo—omitting Valencia wholly, unless he be willing to double interminably on his tracks—pass from Toledo to Madrid, and then decide whether he will go north-westward through Avila and Burgos, north-eastward through Zaragoza and Barcelona, or attempt to embrace both routes by zigzagging across the widest part of the kingdom.

There remains, finally, the alternative of starting from Cadiz, visiting Sevilla and Granada, and then, by way of Cordova, Toledo and Madrid, continuing north to Valladolid, Burgos, and the French frontier, without troubling the eastern half of the country at all. This route, after all, includes the most that is best worth seeing, if we leave out Zaragoza and Monserrat.

Let me add only that nobody should be deterred, by the schedule given on the preceding page, from making a shorter visit to the Peninsula, if it come within his range, when circumstances grant him less time than is there allotted. Even in three weeks a general tour could be accomplished, allowing several days at Madrid and very brief pauses at Avila, the Escorial, Toledo, Cordova, Sevilla, Granada, and Barcelona. So rapid a flight, nevertheless, the voyager must be prepared to find, will induce a harassing sense that at every point much that it would be desirable to see has been passed over. But even an outline of actual experience is sometimes more prized than a complete set of second-hand impressions.

Furthermore, a single week would suffice the traveller who found himself on the borders of Spain, to make an excursion which he could hardly regret. Thus from Biarritz one can, in that space of time, cross the border and run down to Madrid, glance rapidly at the gallery there, and take the Escorial, Avila, or Burgos—or possibly two of these—on the return. From Marseilles he can visit Gerona, Barcelona, and Monserrat. Similarly, touching at Cadiz, he can go to Sevilla, Cordova, and Granada, get a general survey of those places, including the Alhambra and two of the most beautiful cathedrals in the world, and return to Cadiz or Malaga, all in seven or eight days. Indeed, one who has it in his power to reach Granada and spend a day or two there, without attempting to see anything else, ought not to forego the opportunity. The sight of the Alhambra alone, and of the enchanting landscape that surrounds it, may well repay the loss incurred by an inability to make farther explorations.

All these details in regard to flying trips I submit with due knowledge that whoever profits by them, at the same time that he admits himself under obligation for the counsel, will perhaps never forgive himself for seeing thus much and no more, and may even include in this unrelenting mood his benevolent adviser.

Enough, I think, has now been said to furnish a basis for all manner of individual modification. The large anatomical lines, as it were, have been indicated; and on these each tourist may construct his own ideal, with any desired curtailment or extension of time to be consumed.

Climate for Health—The resources of Spain as a health resort are, in general, hardly suspected, much less widely known; and a great deal has doubtless yet to be done before they can be rendered available. Still, the existing conditions and favorable circumstances are worth summarizing in this place. In a singularly careful work on the winter and spring climates of the Mediterranean shores, Dr. J. H. Bennett, of England, arrives at some important conclusions respecting the localities of the Spanish coast. To begin with, the vital distinction has to be noted that the Peninsula (leaving out the corner abutting on the Atlantic) possesses two distinct climates: first, that of the central raised plains stretching from range to range of its several mountain-ribs; and, second, that of the sea-level and the latitude in which the country lies. The former is perforce much the colder, and is subject to raw winds; the latter is mild and uncommonly dry. The health regions of Spain are confined to the east and south-east coasts, where the land subsides nearly to the sea-level, and is open to the balmy influences natural to the latitude. Dr. Bennett observes that the north and north-west winds precipitate their moisture in the mountains of the central regions of Spain, and that the north-east winds are drawn down to Algeria by the Desert of Sahara, which creates a sort of vacuum compelling them southward. As a matter of fact, they do not molest the eastern coast. Hence, in the words of this physician, "the eastern coast of Spain is probably the driest region of Europe, drier even than the Genoese Riviera." Accordingly, Murcia, Alicante, Valencia, Tarragona, and even Barcelona—far north though the last-mentioned is—all offer extraordinary advantages of climate to the average run of patients afflicted with chronic chest disease, pulmonary consumption, chronic bronchitis, bronchitic asthma, chronic diseases of the kidney, debility and anÆmia from any cause, and the failing vitality of old age. Cadiz, too, possesses a most equable temperature. It is noted, however, by the writer whom I follow, that the dry air of these places is injurious in those exceptional cases of chest disease, of nervous asthma and neuralgia, which are found to be aggravated by a stimulating atmosphere. Dr. Bennett's theory is that the towns just referred to lie under a qualifying disadvantage, inasmuch as they stand at some distance from the mountains, thus permitting the cold winds from the latter to fall into the plain and sweep the towns to a certain extent. But in this connection he seems not to remember that in Nice, at least, the invalid population are now and then scourged by the cold northern bise rushing down the Rhone to the sea. The most serious objection to these Spanish towns is the want of comfortable and airy quarters for invalids. Again, at Malaga, which has been so highly recommended, the sanitary conditions are such that any benefit from the climate is likely to be nullified by the evil influences of a want of drainage, and of latent pestilence.

Here it may be mentioned that the Alhambra hill, at Granada, is much resorted to by Spaniards in summer as a cool, airy, and healthful spot; and truly there is none more lovely in its surroundings on the globe, so far as it is usually permitted man to see. In and about the Alhambra, too, small cottages may be hired, where the sick and weary may rest after their own fashion, and keep house for themselves, with docile native servants. But, whosoever fares to Spain in search of bettered health, let him not mount the Alhambra hill save in spring, nor enter the Mediterranean towns until after September. And, above all, let him avoid the fatal error of supposing that the high regions of the interior will offer any influences more soothing than those of harsh-tempered New England.

This consideration remains, that whatever obstacles to complete comfort may exist, the perfection of the coast climate, the stimulus of scenery and surroundings so unique and picturesque, and the resources of observation or of historic association opened to the sojourner in Spain are likely to have a good effect, both mental and spiritual.

[1] The dancing boys still officiate at Seville, also, in Holy-week, where they leap merrily before the high altar, and do not even take off their hats to the Host. The story runs that, years ago, a visiting bishop from Rome found fault with this as being unorthodox, and threatened to put a stop to it. He complained to the Pope, and a lenient order issued from the Vatican that the observance should be discontinued when the boys' clothes should be worn out. Up to the present day, curiously enough, the clothes have not been worn out.