There is no want of public and valuable libraries in Spain, particularly in Madrid. The two principal of these, are the Royal Library, and the Royal Library of San Isidro. The former, founded by Philip V., was enriched in the reign of Charles III. by the accession of the library of the cardinal Arquinto, purchased in Rome; and in the reign of his successor, Charles IV., by several other libraries; and now amounts to 200,000 volumes. The Royal Library also contains many valuable manuscripts, particularly Arabic; and a rich collection of coins and medals, illustrative of Spanish history. The Spanish press has produced some fine specimens of printing, which are preserved in this library, particularly Don Quixotte and Sallust, both from the press of Ibarra. Besides the library of San Isidro, which contains about 60,000 volumes, there are some excellent libraries in the possession of private persons, particularly the Duke of Osuna, the Duke of Infantado, and the Duke of Medina Cœli: the latter of these was formerly open to the public; but so great public spiritedness looking too much like liberalism, it is now closed. I have already spoken of the obstacles thrown in the way of knowledge, by the regulations respecting the schools and academies; and the fetters thrown upon education of every kind: these chiefly affect the rising generation; but I may mention, as another cause of the backward state of literature in Spain, _the tone of Spanish society_. Every Spanish house has its _tertulia_; and every man, woman, girl, and boy, is a member of one tertulia or another. The introduction to the tertulia begins at a very early age. I have seen boys who, in any other country, would have been in a school-room, or at play, present themselves regularly at the tertulia, and throwing off the character of boys, act the part of grown-up men. This necessity of resorting every night to the tertulia, not only interferes greatly with habits of study, by employing much valuable time,--but the preparatory education for the tertulia, if I may so express myself, is of the most unimproving kind. The foundation of the tertulia is gallantry,--here it is that the Spanish woman, after having reaped a harvest of admiration on the Prado, retires to receive that nearer homage which is prized still higher; and here it is that the Spaniard makes his prelude to future conquest. Gallantry is the business of every Spaniard’s life; his object in frequenting the tertulia, is to practise it; and his principal study, therefore, is that frivolous and gallant conversation that is essential in the first place to captivate the attention of the Spanish woman. The Spanish ladies, with all their agreeable wit and affability, are ignorant almost beyond belief; and in a country where, more than any other in Europe, the society is mixed,--the extreme ignorance of the female sex, and the channel into which conversation must necessarily run every evening of every day