No one omits to visit the hospital of _La Caridad_, which stands on a square by the Guadalquivir, with five large pictures on the front, of blue and white _azulejos_, painted after the designs of Murillo. One of them represents St. George and the dragon, to which saint the building is dedicated. This hospital was rebuilt in 1664 by Miguel de Mañara in expiation of his sins; for he had been, before his conversion, a very Don Juan for profligacy. In his latter days he acquired quite a reputation for sanctity, and some years since there was a question of canonizing him. However, he had inscribed on his tomb the unique epitaph: “Here lie the ashes of the worst man that ever lived in the world.” He was a friend of Murillo’s, and, being a man of immense wealth, employed him to adorn the chapel of his hospital. Marshal Soult carried off most of these paintings, among which was the beautiful “St. Elizabeth of Hungary,” now at Madrid; but six still remain. “Moses smiting the Rock” and the “Multiplication of the Loaves and Fishes” are justly noted, but the most beautiful is the picture of San Juan de Dios staggering home through the dark street on a stormy night, with a dying man on his shoulder. An angel, whose heavenly radiance lights up the gloom with truly Rembrandt coloring, is aiding him to bear his burden. There is a frightful picture among these soft Murillos, by Juan Valdés Leal, of a half-open coffin, in which lies a bishop in magnificent pontifical robes, who is partially eaten up by the worms. Murillo could never look at it without compressing his nose, as if it gave out a stench. The “Descent from the Cross” over the altar is exquisitely carved and colored. Few chapels contain so many gems of art, but the light is ill-adapted for displaying them. This hospital was in part founded for night wanderers. It is now an almshouse for old men, and served by Sisters of Charity. Among other places of attraction are the palace of the Duke de Montpensier and the beautiful grounds with orange orchards and groves of palm-trees. Then there is the house of Murillo, bright and sunny, with its pleasant court and marble pillars, still the home of art, owned by a dignitary of the church. The _Casa de Pilatos_ is an elegant palace, half Moorish, half Gothic, belonging to the Duke of Medina Celi, said to have been built by a nobleman of the sixteenth century, in commemoration of a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, after the plan of Pilate’s house. Perhaps the name was given it because the public stations of the _Via Crucis_, or Way of Bitterness, as the Spanish call it, begin here, at the cross in the court. The Pretorian chapel has a column of the flagellation and burning lamps; and on the staircase, as you go up, is the cock in memory of St. Peter. Beautiful as the palace is, it is unoccupied, and kept merely for show.