In Villa Seca there was a school in which fifty-seven children were taught the first rudiments of education. One morning the schoolmaster, a tall slim figure of about sixty, bearing on his head one of the peaked hats of Andalusia, and wrapped, notwithstanding the excessive heat of the weather, in a long cloak, made his appearance, and having seated himself, requested to be shown one of our books. Having delivered it to him, he remained examining it for nearly an hour, without uttering a word. At last he laid it down with a sigh, and said that he should be very happy to purchase some of these books for his school, but from their appearance, especially from the quality of the paper and binding, he was apprehensive that to pay for them would exceed the means of the parents of his pupils, as they were almost destitute of money, being poor labourers. He then commenced blaming the government, which, he said, established schools without affording the necessary books, adding that in his school there were but two books for the use of all his pupils, and these, he confessed, contained but little good. I asked him what he considered the Testaments were worth? He said, “_Señor_ Cavalier, to speak frankly, I have in other times paid twelve _reals_ for books inferior to yours in every respect; but I assure you that my poor pupils would be utterly unable to pay the half of that sum.” I replied, “I will sell you as many as you please for three _reals_ each. I am acquainted with the poverty of the land, and my friends and myself, in affording the people the means of spiritual instruction, have no wish to curtail their scanty bread.” He replied, “_Bendito sea Dios_!” {197} and could scarcely believe his ears. He instantly purchased a dozen, expending, as he said, all the money he possessed, with the exception of a few _cuartos_. The introduction of the Word of God into the country schools of Spain is therefore begun, and I humbly hope that it will prove one of those events which the Bible Society, after the lapse of years, will have most reason to remember with joy and gratitude to the Almighty. An old peasant is reading in the portico. Eighty-four years have passed over his head, and he is almost entirely deaf; nevertheless he is reading aloud the second of Matthew: three days since he bespoke a Testament, but not being able to raise the money, he has not redeemed it until the present moment. He has just brought thirty farthings. As I survey the silvery hair which overshadows his sun-burnt countenance, the words of the song occurred to me, “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.”