Nothing can be worse judged than the manner in which the town of Gibraltar is built; the houses are constructed for the latitude of England in place of the latitude of Africa. It is not to be wondered at, that when epidemics find their way to Gibraltar, their progress should be irresistible; for not one demand of a hot climate has been complied with: here are no patios, and fountains, and open galleries, admitting a free circulation of air, as in Seville; all is closely boxed up, as if for the climate of England; closed doors, narrow passages, and narrow stairs, keep out the fresh, and keep in the foul air. In place of the floors being of brick, or Valencia tiles, they are of wood; the rooms are small; the windows, not folding, lightly closed, and opening upon airy balconies, but constructed upon the most approved air-excluding plan; and the bedrooms carpeted, and the beds curtained. The effects of all this may easily be imagined,--the spread of disease is powerfully assisted by filthiness, and by impure and stagnant air; and, accordingly, no where in Europe have the ravages of the plague been so fearful as in Gibraltar. The streets and houses are incapable of alteration; and therefore the only remedy would be, gradually to pull down the houses, and to replace them with others better fitted to the climate. The morning after my arrival in Gibraltar, I walked out, with some curiosity, to see more of a spot of which I had heard so much. After leaving the town, the road led me towards the south-west, gradually mounting the rock, and disclosing novel and entrancing views below, while it conducted me through most charming scenes. I was every where struck with the results of industry, and of art--not supplanting nature, but adding its embellishments where her hand had already traced the outline. Wherever a nook in the rocks was covered with a little soil, it bore evidence of the labour that had been bestowed upon it; upon every little eminence, beautiful cottages, the quarters of the officers, or the country houses of the merchants, were seen surrounded by pretty gardens; and shaded, on one side perhaps by a majestic rock, on the other by orange trees and acacias. On both sides of the road, luxuriant hedges of geranium in flower, captivated more senses than one; and the rocks, too, were covered with its scarlet and lilac blossoms. The road which I pursued looked down upon the Alameda, which I had not then visited, but which looked most captivating from above; I saw it sprinkled with fig trees, with their broad beautiful leaves and fantastic trunks--and acacias, with their little yellow tufts so full of fragrance--and orange trees, speckled thick with the bright fruit, embowered in its green alcove. It was a charming prospect to look down upon the Alameda, and across to the Spanish main, over the calm bay--and up to the gigantic rocks, covered with their natural foliage, and sheltering the pretty villas that nestled under them. In about an hour