Ibiza, the third largest island of the group, is one of those spots which can afford no sort of justification for its existence. It is a mere backwater, a stagnant pool of humanity, interesting, though, as a place buried beneath prejudices and customs hundreds of years old. How should they be blown away in so out-of-the-way an island? The town stands on a fine harbour and reminds one rather of Guernsey. The collegiate church, formerly a cathedral, was founded by the Archbishop of Tarragona, in the thirteenth century, at the time the island was granted to him by Jaime the Conqueror. It is uninteresting, except for the view from the belfry. Better worth a visit is the fortified church of San Antonio at the other end of the island, wherein the people took refuge at the approach of the Corsairs. It is flanked with two massive towers and the apse has a parapet pierced with embrasures for guns. The walls are nearly eight feet thick, and the doorway is protected by a machicolation. There is little else to be seen at Ibiza during the short time the traveller will be disposed to stay there, but M. Vuillier, who lingered there longer than he had intended, is able to tell us much that is interesting about the people and their customs. The islanders are a savage primitive stock. The recognised form of salutation between man and maid is for the former to hurry after the latter and without any warning discharge his gun into the ground at her feet. After spending the evening at her house, he fires at the ceiling, so that it should be easy to tell at a glance on going into a house for the first time if the daughters have been much sought after. The men do not confine their shooting to this sort of practice, however; duels, assassinations, and vendettas are frequent, and the feuds partake of the mysterious brutal character of those of Kentucky and Tennessee. In such a country animals fare badly, and one is not surprised to learn that throwing stones at a live cock is one of the favourite pastimes. When the youths come a-courting, each sits with the girl for a few minutes in turn and if he overstays the allotted period is punished by the others with the knife or pistol. Abduction is the rule rather than the exception; but for all the anxiety shown to possess them, the women have a wretched time, being hardly allowed to stir out of their dingy poverty-stricken cabins. Altogether it must be as difficult to make yourself happy at Ibiza as at any spot on or off the planet.