strong batteries fronting the sea. Lower down, on the same side, the fort of Atarazanas commands the entrance of the harbour. Then, in the graceful curve formed by the quay, there is a beautiful crescent of houses from four to five stories high, the glare of the white walls being relieved by green Venetian blinds in all the windows, so as to produce a very pleasing effect, and throw around the place an air of cleanliness and elegance seldom to be seen in the neighbourhood of a seaport. On the right, the shipping and the mole conceal the citadel. But in front you see the house-tops in the upper parts of the city, with the towers of the churches glittering in the sun. A range of hills, partially covered with trees, rises at some distance behind the town, giving shelter to gardens and vineyards, and forming a rich background to this noble picture.

Barcelona is the capital of Catalonia, where manufactures are carried on to a greater extent than in any other part of Spain. For some time after the loss of the Spanish American colonies its maritime trade declined; but of late years it has greatly improved. The harbour is crowded with vessels of large tonnage, and it is much frequented by steamers plying on the Mediterranean, including the packets belonging to the Peninsular Navigation Company.

At Barcelona we found comfortable quarters at the Fonda de las Cuatro Naciones, a large hotel fronting the Rambla. This fashionable promenade extends from the ramparts on the land side to the sea-shore, and consists of a broad avenue lined with trees, intended for foot passengers, with a good paved road for carriages on each side. Nearly opposite our hotel is the theatre, one of the largest and finest in Spain. Below this, at the foot of the Rambla, are barracks for cavalry and infantry, and close by is the fort of Atarazanas, which contains an arsenal, and has strong batteries well armed facing the sea.

In its general aspect Barcelona is more like a French than a Spanish town. There is an air of elegance and comfort about its principal streets and promenades; in many of the shops there is a fine display of goods; and there are numerous cafés fitted up in a handsome style similar to those of Paris, besides houses of an humbler grade, which supply cheap refreshments to the common people, such as chocolate and lemonade, and generally bear on their signboard "Helados y Cerveza" (Ices and Beer). Booksellers' shops are numerous, and they are well supplied with modern works, many of them from France. There are excellent hackney-coaches, drawn by two horses, and forming a pleasant contrast to the one-horse tartanas which nearly jolted us to death at Valencia.

Not far from the harbour there is a handsome square, with an ornamental fountain in the centre, surrounded with some fine public buildings, among which may be mentioned the custom-house, the Lonja, or Exchange, and a royal palace, said to be occupied by the captain-general. The Plaza Real, near the Rambla, is tastefully laid out with garden ground, and the surrounding arcades are filled with attractive shops and cafés, after the manner of the Palais Royal at Paris, though on a much smaller scale.

Among narrow streets near the centre of the old city stands the cathedral, which was begun in the thirteenth century. This venerable

Gothic structure is surmounted by two square towers; the exterior is severe and sombre, and there are no internal decorations. In the neighbourhood of the cathedral we observed some interesting ruins of stately mansions, and a fine old fountain ornamented with stone sculptures. An old house, now occupied as a school for poor children, was surrounded with a profusion of curious stone carvings, evidently of great antiquity. Emerging from these narrow streets, we met the chain-gang of convicts going back to prison after their daily toil. Each of these men has an iron band riveted to his ankle, and another band round his waist; and these bands are connected by a chain which makes a clanking noise at every movement. The men are able to walk and work notwithstanding these manacles, and they are marched out with a guard to sweep the streets or labour on some of the public works.

On the north-east side of the town, near the sea, is the citadel, which is well worthy of a visit, being a regular fortification, according to the system of Vauban, with strong walls, wide dry ditches, and numerous outworks. It was built in 1716 by Philip V., who had met with a vigorous resistance from the Catalonians, and his object probably was as much to overawe the citizens of Barcelona as to defend the town. Within the citadel is a large square, surrounded by buildings occupied by troops, and capable of containing a large garrison, besides some ornamental garden ground and a curious old-fashioned watch-tower, evidently of a more ancient date than the rest of the works. Fort Carlos, on the sea-side, is connected with the citadel. In the vicinity there is a public garden and a fine avenue of trees.

No one who visits Barcelona should omit to ascend the hill of Monjuich. The walk from the Rambla to the summit is about two miles, and the castle stands at an elevation of seven hundred and thirty-five Spanish feet above the level of the sea. Here, as at the citadel, a verbal order from the captain of the guard admits you to the interior of the works, which are irregular in form. The main body of the fortress is of considerable extent, surrounded by batteries, and with excellent quarters for the garrison; and there are strong flanking works facing the sea. On that side the rocks are very precipitous, bearing some resemblance to Ehrenbreitstein, on the Rhine, opposite Coblentz. From the summit of Monjuich there is an extensive view of the Mediterranean and the harbour and town of Barcelona, with its environs, which are very beautiful. All round the city are gardens and vineyards, many of which are kept fresh by irrigation; picturesque villages and country-houses are scattered over the plain, which is well wooded; and, at a few miles' distance, the horizon is bounded by a chain of precipitous mountains. A village called La Grazia, with the Elysian Fields in its neighbourhood, is much admired.

About the close of the twelfth century Catalonia was annexed to the crown of Aragon as a separate principality, with its own laws and usages. In the palace of the Audiencia, at Barcelona, are preserved the archives of the ancient kingdom of Aragon, with the original crown worn by the king, which we had no opportunity of examining, though Mellado assures us it is the most ancient, complete, and well-appointed crown known in Europe. Bold and proud were the nobles of Aragon, as the form of their oath of allegiance to the king shows: "We, every

one of whom is as good as you, and, when we are united, are more powerful than you, swear allegiance to you as our king, if you respect our privileges; but not, if you do not.”*

A Spanish steamer conveyed us from Barcelona to Marseilles, after a pleasant voyage of about twenty-one hours. During the day we skirted the coast of Catalonia, crossed the Gulf of Lyons, with a favourable breeze, in the night, and, about six o'clock next morning, found ourselves safely moored in La Joliette, the outer harbour of Marseilles, where a French transport had just arrived with troops from Italy. We paused a few minutes on the quay till we saw three wounded officers landed. One had lost a leg, another was lame and walked with crutches, and the third had his arm bandaged in a sling. All three were fine-looking men, in the prime of life, and they were received with much sympathy by their countrymen.

We quitted the Peninsula with a feeling of regard for the people, and a strong impression of the immense resources of the country; and we are satisfied that nothing is wanted but a peaceful policy and a good stable government to enable Spain ere long to resume, if not the place she long occupied, at least an honourable position among the first-rate powers of Europe. Unfortunately, Spain is now engaged in war against Morocco, and her political writers do not affect to disguise that the object of the government is to achieve military conquests on the north coast of Africa. This is much to be deplored. Already the tidings from the seat of war acquaint us with the courage of the Moors and the obstacles of every kind which the Spanish army has to encounter. And, even supposing Spain should by superior discipline and force of arms gain an accession of territory on the coast of Morocco, this would avail her little, as she could not expect to maintain possession of her conquests without keeping up a strong military force, involving a large expenditure of money, which her already overburdened exchequer can very ill afford. Peace, not war, is the true policy of Spain. Instead of seeking territorial aggrandisement abroad, let her develop her resources at home by forming roads and railways, introducing useful machinery and new implements of husbandry, extending her shipping and maritime trade, and improving her industry, manufactures, and commerce, so as to raise her to the level of other European states; and, if she pursues that rational course, she will probably find, to her happy experience, that she is still destined to play an important part in the world's history, and that "Peace has its victories no less renowned than War."

* Sempire: Historia del Derecho Español, p. 377.

HOW ONE FIRE LIT ANOTHER;

OR,

THE MISCHIEF DONE BY MY PHOTOGRAPH.

BY OUIDA.

I.

ROYSTON TREVELYAN.

We had been up the Mer de Glace that afternoon, stretching our legs over the ice plains, leaping the crevasses, and broiled like a salmon over a Highland fire in the scorching ride homeward; but now we had got cool, and calm, and comfortable again, as we sat smoking and drinking, and doing the dolce in the window of an hotel in Chamounix, on the evening of the 19th July, 1855.

I belong to Lincoln's Inn, if you wish to know, where I hang out, keep a boy as sharp as a needle, and a constant supply of French novels and Brighton Tipper, but never can manage to find any brief that will keep me; so, having a fancy to do Switzerland once more, I had nothing to retard me, and armed with a passport, a wide-awake, photographic implements, and innumerable bottles, with which I had ruined my hands, ironmoulded one dozen Corazzas irrecoverably, and yet could not prevail on myself to leave behind me, set out forthwith. At Duomo d'Ossoli I fell in with the man I like the best of anybody going, Royston Trevelyan, and we came on together with the fellow he was travelling with, Popham, Lord Freshlacquer's son; and in the window at Chamounix sat these " spirits twain" with me. They are about as unlike as a sturdy rough shooting pony is unlike a Derby winner in high condition, Pop being a short, square, little chap about eighteen, with red whiskers and merry eyes, who, well mounted, will, however, look all over like going, and finds his mission lie in the open rather than the drawing-room. Trevelyan, au contraire-though I can witness that his strong muscles tell in a slashing stroke through a heavy swell, a firm hand on the ribbons, and a hit from the straightening of his left arm calculated to send down a man like an ox-is graceful and well knit rather than herculean or robust, and his face-Well, if you had seen its proud regular features, veloutés eyes, and beautiful mouth, it would probably have haunted you, mademoiselle, as, one way or another, it has haunted a good many.

"Horrid slow place, ain't it ?" growled little Pop, obscuring himself in smoke.

"No, I like that old fellow," answered Trevelyan, indicating Mont Blanc with his pipe-stem. "Look at him now, with the sunset glow on him! Glorious, by George! better than a drop scene, or a race-course, or the Cremorne lamps to look at."

Pop made me a wry face.

"Hum! Well, give me a two-year-old, with his body clothing off,

and Frank Butler on his back, against all the old piles of snow that ever provoked one to break one's neck climbing up 'em; and as for the sunset-what d'ye call it-I vow the glow on Eudoxie's cheek, though it is rouge, is ten times prettier."

Trevelyan smiled quizzically and contemptuously.

"You're new to your game, Pop. By-and-by you'll find it so tame and stale, like pheasant-shooting with birds that come down of their own accord to be shot, that you'll be glad to come out into the woods and hills for a little bit of nature. One may look so long at the gas flowers of Mabille that one is glad to take a turn at the Alpine clochettes for a change.”

"Eh?" said Pop, slightly bewildered. "Do you mean you'd rather gather a handful of those weeds than have a turn at that divine Closerie des Lilas ?"

"When I am bored by the Closerie des Lilas-yes."

"Hum!" meditated Pop. "Well, I was never bored in Paris, and am bored here; horribly bored, I confess!"

Trevelyan shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry for you, mon cher. Stars are holes in the sky to Hodge, and living worlds to Herschel. If you weren't born with any perception of nature, I suppose you can't help yourself?"

"No, and don't want."

"What a merciful provision, isn't it, Temple," laughed Trevelyan, "that young cubs like this, created blind and deaf, don't pine their lives out for other people's eye-glasses and oral nerves?"

"Don't poke fun at a fellow," growled Pop. "You've a big brainbox, and shouldn't sneer at a man who hasn't."

"I brains! My dear boy, you're quite wrong, I assure you. I might have had, perhaps, if I'd gone on working them when I left Cambridge, but they're all run to seed now-smoked away in Cavendish and fuddled away in your favourite Chaumière, and driven away by wandering up and down the earth, and walking to and fro on it."

"How is it, then," said I, "if a fellow wants to know anything-if it's about a place in the Antipodes, the best recipe to brown a gun or waterproof his boots, the last news by the telegraph or the latest start in science, the newest fly for trolling or the best view of politics-you have it all at your fingers' ends, and can tell him no end about any of them?"

"Nonsense!" said Trevelyan. "I go about with my eyes open, of course, and pick up a smattering here and there; but it's much like what the old French chiffonniers pick up in their rag-baskets-worthless bits of glass and straw and dirty rubbish out of all the puddles, and very seldom a Nap or so with the true ring about it. Look out on your own account, both of you, and you won't think much of my collection. The magicians were very great guns to poor Pharaoh, but now we have Houdin and Frikell, they don't greatly impose upon us."

"Confound you! Royston. Why will you always run yourself down?" I said.

"I don't run myself down. I only speak the truth, and I want Pop there not to bow in that idiotic way before a gingerbread god. If he go and deify me, he'll come to a large amount of grief."

"What are those lines," began Pop, diving into the recesses of his memory as a landlord dives into his lower cellars for the '15 port when