With the approbation of our host, we ventured the next morning to apply to the monk, who acts, by appointment, as the _Cicerone_ of the monastery, for a view of the chief curiosities it contains. He allowed us a walk in the magnificent and valuable library, which is said to be one of the richest European treasures of ancient manuscripts--a treasure, indeed, which, amidst those mountains, and under the control of an illiberal government and a set of ignorant, lazy monks, may be said to be hid in the earth. The collection of first-rate pictures at the Escurial is immense; and the walls may be said to be covered with them. One has only to lounge about the numerous cloisters of the Monastery, to satiate the most craving appetite for the beauties of art. Our guide, however, who took no pleasure in going over the same ground for the ten-thousandth time, hurried us to the collection of relics, in which he seemed to take a never failing delight. I will not give you the list of these spiritual treasures. It fills up a large board from three to four feet in length, and of a proportionate breadth, at the entrance of the choir. Yet I cannot omit that we were shewn the body of one of the innocents massacred by Herod, and some coagulated milk of the Virgin Mary. The monk cast upon us his dark, penetrating eyes, as he exhibited these two most curious objects;--but the air of the Escurial has a peculiar power to lengthen and fix the muscles of the face. There is, in the same room which contains the relics, a curious box of a black shining wood, probably ebony, the whole lid of which is covered, on the inside, with the wards of a most complicated lock. It is said to have contained the secret correspondence of the unfortunate Don Carlos, which his unnatural father, Philip II., made the pretext for his imprisonment, and probably for the violent death which is supposed to have ended his misery. On returning from the inspection of the Monastery, our suspense was relieved by the welcome intelligence that the Infante’s tutor had been fully acquitted. The Prince of Asturias, we were told also, had mentioned to the King the names of his advisers, and was now released from confinement. My friend was too conscious of the danger which, in the shape of promotion, had hung over his head for some hours, not to rejoice in what many would call his disappointment. He had probably dallied some moments with ambition; but, if so, he was fortunate enough to perceive that she had drawn him to the brink of a precipice.