uplifted hand of a Spanish assassin, armed with a knife, to put an end to their existence. These dreadful fates awaited the defeated French soldiers in Spain; it was impossible to gaze on the mutilated bodies of these our enemies without feelings of deep commiseration for our fellow-creatures, who, a day or two previously, had been alive like ourselves, and perhaps the admiration of their comrades. The vast _campos_ in Leon, the two Castiles, and other parts of Spain, are apparently interminable sandy plains, covered with corn or small stumpy vines. In summer, many of the principal rivers become very shallow, and numerous tributary streams are dried up, leaving their winding beds, or indentures, filled with pebbles. In many parts there is not a tree, a hedge, or a shrub to mark private or public boundaries, nor a drop of water to be procured. The shapeless roads, or beaten tracts, are ancle-deep in sand, and in some places fifty yards wide; at other spots branching off into three or four paths, which again join at a given point. During the excessive heat of the day a solemn silence frequently pervades these immense plains; and the high steeples of churches, or the venerable turrets of monasteries of _las villas_, or _pueblos_, alone present a land-mark, and direct the weary footsteps of the traveller. The towns are constructed of ancient massive buildings of stone or dingy brick, (the lower windows barred with iron,) intermixed with innumerable churches, convents, and religious edifices of the most ancient construction. During the middle of the day all shops are closed by a pair of unwieldy doors, and the inhabitants enjoy their middle sleep or _siesta_. At this hour the streets may be traversed without meeting a single person, and the great monastic edifices stand in solemn grandeur as monuments of that superstition exercised by the monks at the time of their foundation in the darker ages. As soon as the scorching heat has somewhat subsided, the doors are thrown open, and towards evening the streets are thronged by merry dancers and songstresses; the tinkling of the guitar is heard from the casements, balconies, and verandas; the servant maids go chatting and laughing to the fountains; the muleteers lead their animals to water; the peasant girls bring in cans of goat's milk, and the shopkeepers sit at their portals without coats, having their shirt sleeves tucked up, and smoking cigars.