they are spirited, and sometimes familiar to a foreign ear; for the airs of music, like the airs of heaven, travel all around the world. The dances are pretty and modest, singularly tame, and far from being as full of frolic and _abandon_ as one would expect to see in the out-of-door amusements of the common people. For these are the lower classes only. It is the pastime of the sons and daughters of toil, and perhaps want. They were not ill dressed, and most of them were well dressed. But they appeared to be the class of people who had but this day in the week for pleasure, and were now seeking and finding it in a way that cost them little or nothing. More were looking on than danced. Yet the sets changed frequently, and the circle widened as the numbers of dancers grew, and there was always room for more; for the meadows were wide, and the heaven was a roof large enough to cover them all. And the strangest part of this performance is yet to be mentioned; more than half the men in this frolic of the fields were soldiers of the regular army, in their uniforms, without arms, enjoying a half holiday. They and all the rest, men and women, seemed to be as happy as happy could be. If we had thought the people of Spain, and especially of Madrid, where the government is felt and seen more severely and nearly than elsewhere, to be gloomy, sullen, discontented, miserable, and ready to rise in revolt, such a thought would be put to rout by seeing these soldiers and others, men and women, thousands and thousands, making themselves so easily happy of a Sunday afternoon. In one of the circles of dancers two young men, better dressed than the rest, were either the worse for liquor, or were feigning to be tipsy. As the other dancers paid no attention to them, and let them amuse themselves in their own way, it is quite probable they were playing the fool. These were the only persons in that multitude, of the lower orders of the city, who gave any sign of having been drinking any thing that could intoxicate. There were scores of wine-shops on the street, within the easy walk of all who wished liquors. It was necessary to pass them going and coming to and from the city. And thousands doubtless “took something to drink,” both going and coming. The young men would treat the girls, and, of course, all would have as much wine as they wished. For it is almost as cheap as water,—cheaper than water in New York perhaps; for there the tax that somebody pays for the use of Croton is something, but here in Spain wine is so cheap that what was left of last year’s vintage has often been emptied on the ground, or used instead of water to mix mortar with! Yet drunkenness is not one of the common vices of Spain. And so passed my first Sabbath in Spain, worshipping in French with a dozen Christians in the morning, and looking at thousands of the people dancing on the green in the afternoon.