Out again into the hot, bright squares, and then into the old Gothic cathedral, where we found ourselves in comparative darkness, in the enjoyment of a very agreeable coolness. This ancient ecclesiastical structure is built on the remains of a Moorish mosque which had itself arisen from the ruins of Roman temples. How agreeable was the contrast between the hot, garish day without, and the dim, religious light of the old church, with its mysterious incense-laden atmosphere, gemmed with a hundred twinkling lights, and traversed by brilliant rays from the coloured windows, rays which fell in various hues upon the marble statues standing ghost-like against the venerable walls, and lighting up the lofty spears of brazen screening until they seemed like fiery arrows shot up from the world beneath by some unmeasured bow. Such was the spirit of the place, that I felt as if I could have joined in the devotion of the shrouded figures who were kneeling silent and still upon the marble pavement, while every thought seemed to rise heavenward with the noble strains of the organ. We emerged again into the heat and blaze of the crowded streets, through which troops of dusty soldiery were threading their way, and in which the blare of martial music was mingled with the clash of the church's bells. We found our way into a stately market-place, in the midst of the bustle of which we got entangled in a procession of the Virgin. As it was quite a characteristic scene, we thought it worth looking at, even though the delay cost us a few moments. A little boy in scarlet drawers and embroidered shirt led the way, making a hideous noise on a drum. He was followed by four seedy-looking gentlemen with vacant faces, and without hats, dressed in respectable every-day suits of black, bearing long, lighted candles. Next, making unnatural strides, and tricked out in muslin and tinfoil,--like "My Lady" of the sweeps on the first of May,--came two unfortunate little girls of about twelve years of age, carrying trays of rose-leaves. These poor children, from this unwonted exercise, seemed very puffy and red in the face. Then came the _pièce de résistance_ of the entertainment. Four ragged peasants in goat's skin and sandals bore along on their shoulders a palanquin, or rather a piece of an old wooden door, which supported a great wax doll, whose cheeks were of the deepest vermilion, with a tin hat or crown on its head, and a piece of ordinary Manchester coloured cotton kerchief tied by a string round its waist. The procession was closed by several men bearing flags, and by a band of music, the members of which, in the uniform of old soldiers, produced with their instruments music so original in its character that I am unable to give the reader any conception of it. The band, as usual everywhere else, was surrounded and followed by a large crowd of idlers, of chattering old women, dark-eyed maidens, and yelling urchins, who, notwithstanding their