MY DEAR PAPA,--You are probably not a little surprised at the superscription of this letter; so am I. It was a sudden and a happy thought that brought me here. I reflected that, whilst I had long wished to see Tangiers, I should not very probably come to Spain again, and should therefore not have another chance of visiting Morocco without a journey made on purpose. The run from Gibraltar is only four hours, and I wonder the trip did not form part of my original scheme. It will have one drawback for me, that I shall get to Granada a few days later, and be by so much the longer in getting news from England; but my journey will not be prolonged on the whole, as I shall endeavour to cut off at the end what I put on now. I the more owe myself what enjoyment I can get here, that as I told you--did I not?--in my last, my journey has been hitherto rather a dismal failure. I told you how vile the weather was in Madrid, so that all technical study of the pictures was out of the question. Well this is, since then, the first perfectly fine afternoon we have had. Observe, I only say afternoon, for it poured in the morning, and the phenomenon of a wholly bright day has still to come. I am also still further in arrears of enjoyment from the fact that I got rather out of order, God knows why, the day I went to Toledo, to the utter spoiling of what should have been one of my most delightful trips, and am only now pulling round again, having called in Æsculapius (at 2 dollars a consultation), whilst at Gibraltar. An attack of this nature is simply fatal to any real pleasure on one's journey, and, coming on the top of dark weather and the contretemps just as the closing of the Alcazar in Seville (one of the things I especially wanted to see) made rather an absurd failure of the whole thing. At Seville I was fool enough to go again to a bull-fight, and was so disgusted that I got up and went away when the performance was only half over. Meanwhile the aspect of the arena itself, with the Cathedral and its marvellous tower rising just above into the sky, is a very striking sight, and one I should regret to have missed. The processional entry, too, of the whole of the performers--picadors, capeodors, espadas, &c. &c.--is very picturesque and stately. It is when the goring and torturing begins that the sight is revolting; and the enormous popularity of this form of sport with a nation, not, that I am aware of, exceptionally cruel, only shows how easily our worst instincts stifle our better nature, such as it is.