In the “Tyrian” (Sarrano) style, the hair is divided over the forehead, turned back with an ample fold, the ends fastened behind: the back hair is divided and plaited, and hangs down the back; and no doubt formerly, as in the East and in Barbary, silk of the colour of the hair was plaited in and hung down to the heels in tassels. There appears to be a reason why this style was called “Tyrian.” The Jewesses wear their hair bound upon the head in a very elaborate manner, with feathers, a cushion, and handkerchief, the Tyrian being all open and exposed. I find that I am concurrently using the past and present tenses, referring at one moment to the spot where I am; at the next to the times of Hiram and Solomon; but, in fact, they are so intermingled that it is impossible to dissever the Scriptural descriptions and the things themselves. The other style is _moño_;--and has also a foreign association not, however, with Jerusalem, but with Paris, for it has been recently imitated there. The front hair, parted, is plaited on each side into one plait, then rolled as a wheel upon the temple, and fastened by a hair-pin. The back hair is gathered light, and secured behind by a riband. It is then divided into two parts and plaited; these are turned up like a bow, and secured by the same riband. The bow (I mean of the hair) is then twisted, so as to spread on both sides, resting on the nape of the neck. It derives its name from _moño_, which is a large rose of variously-coloured riband, which is sometimes used to set it off. It is placed on the crown of the head: from it hang two tassels of gold or silver, lace or embroidery. There is no gown of a piece; the costume is in separate parts: the sleeves and body may be of any colour. They are, out of doors, covered by the mantilla; like it, the petticoat is black: formerly it was not above two yards in width, and fell to the _mi-jambe_ with weights round to keep it down. In a discussion on these subjects with Spanish ladies, an English gentleman maintained, on the authority of Murray’s new “Guide-Book,” which had just come out, and which had been looked forward to with as much expectation as it produced disappointment, that only recently the ladies of Cadiz had taken to show their feet: that, “formerly, they wore their petticoats so long that you could not tell if they had any feet at all.” This produced an exclamation of astonishment and anger. A Gaditana mentioned that, having returned in 1823 from Paris to Madrid in the wake of the French army, bringing her mantilla with her, she sent for a milliner to order the other parts of the Spanish dress. The milliner told her that her Paris dresses would do, for that nothing else was worn; on which she apostrophised the _artiste_ thus:--“Go out into the streets with mantilla and long petticoats!” Her astonishment equalled her indignation at seeing this hideous petticoat imposed on Spaniards, who, as she said, did not require it, not having “feet an ell long.”