From the first summit, I descended into a deep valley, and then ascended again, during at least two leagues. The sides of the mountain are scattered with evergreen oak, and a few ash trees, and are thickly covered with an underwood of shrubs; occasional glimpses are caught below, of openings into the deep and uninhabited lateral valleys of the Sierra; but as the road climbs towards the south, nature puts on a more cultivated aspect, and houses, and villages at a little distance, are seen scattered around. These are the new colonies, as they are still called, of the Sierra Morena, and the first of the villages we reach, is Santa Elena. Nothing can be more striking or agreeable than the contrast between the villages of the new settlements, and those we meet in other parts of the interior of Spain. Industry and activity were evidently at work every where around; the soil was forced to yield whatever crop was suited to it; and corn and pasture, and little patches of potato and cabbage land, smiled fresh and green around the cottages: these were of a better construction than the cabins of Spanish peasantry; and upon looking into some of them, I noticed all the necessary articles of common household furniture. The people too, were not seen looking from their doors in rags, or sitting under the walls wrapped up in their cloaks; they all seemed to have something to do, and went about their avocations with the air of persons who had no hankering after idleness. The secret is, that these people have an interest in what they do, for they labour upon their own property. The history of these settlements is probably known to every one; and yet; I can scarcely altogether pass it over.