Throughout Spain, as we have observed, and as all travellers will notice when they visit that country, innumerable vile odours prevail everywhere and are one of the most unpleasant characteristics of the country. This, together with a general ignorance or carelessness of all household draining, of course proves one of the most fruitful causes of the cholera which periodically creates such awful ravages throughout the land. It is quite curious how callous a Spaniard appears in the midst of the most frightful odours that can be imagined. While we can scarcely breathe, being compelled to hold our noses in such a way that we are almost suffocated, the dignified Spaniard moves along as serene and untroubled as if he were amidst the rose-gardens of "Gul in her bloom." In fact, he seems rather to like odours that to others are insupportable. If his opinion coincided with that of some medical men, who consider bad smells good for health, he could not endure them with greater equanimity. Majorca is comparatively free from this pest, although the sanitary arrangements of Palma are still very primitive. Two years ago, cholera raged furiously in the city, and on many of the doors of the houses and palaces one still sees notices which were written in chalk at the time, for the dead-cart to wait for a load as it passed through the streets--exactly as in London during the plague two hundred years ago. On the fine old doorway of the palace belonging to an English gentleman--a post-captain in the British navy--to whom we were much indebted for great kindness and hospitality tendered to us during our sojourn at Palma,--we found the following inscription scratched in chalk:--"Muertos: Juan. Lorenzo. Faustina." Many years ago, in order to force the Spanish doctors to be more assiduous in the study of their profession, it was ordered by Government that on the door of the house of a medical man there should be traced as many red marks or crosses as the number of patients who died under his treatment. A nervous Englishman arriving in Madrid became indisposed, and sent his servant to explore the whole city in quest of a doctor who, having the fewest red marks chalked on his door, must consequently have--as he concluded--the fewest deaths to answer for. A medical gentleman was thus discovered whose residence was distinguished by only one mark, and him the Englishman immediately retained. The invalid congratulating himself before some friends on what he considered a "treasure trove," they clasped their hands, and exclaimed--"Dios! What have you done? You have chosen the worst doctor in Spain! He never had but one patient in his life, and he died under him!"