From the Hospital, we proceeded to the Manufactory of Arms, which is a vast, symmetrical, and pleasing edifice, founded by Charles III., whose name is to be found on all buildings of public utility. It is erected close to the Tagus, the water of that stream being used to temper the sword-blades and move the machinery. The workshops run along a large courtyard, surrounded by porticoes and arcades, like almost all the courtyards in Spain. In one room the iron is heated, in another it is submitted to the hammer, while farther on it is tempered. In one place are the stones for sharpening and grinding, in another are made the sheaths and handles. We will not extend the investigation further, as it would not teach our readers anything peculiarly new; we will only state that these blades, so justly celebrated, are partly manufactured out of the old shoes of horses and mules, that are carefully collected for the purpose. To convince us that the Toledo blades were still worthy of their ancient reputation, we were conducted to the proving-room, where a workman, of commanding stature and colossal strength, took a weapon of the most ordinary kind, a straight cavalry sabre, fixed the point in a pig of lead fastened to the wall, and made the blade bend about in every possible way, like a switch, so that the handle almost touched the hilt; the elasticity and suppleness of the steel were such that it was able to stand this test without snapping. The man then placed himself opposite an anvil, and gave so vigorous a blow that the blade entered about half an inch; this feat of strength made me think of the scene in one of Sir Walter Scott's novels, where Richard Cœur-de-Lion and king Saladin amuse themselves by cutting pillows and iron bars. The Toledo blades of the present day are therefore quite equal to those of former times; the secret of tempering them is not lost, but merely the secret of their form; this little thing, so despised by Progress people, is all that is wanting to enable modern works to sustain a comparison with those of antiquity. A modern sword is merely an instrument; a sword of the sixteenth century is at once an instrument and a gem. We thought that we should find at Toledo a few old weapons, such as daggers, poniards, rapiers, and other curiosities, to be hung up as trophies on the wall, or laid out upon a shelf; and we had learnt by heart, for this purpose, the names and marks of the sixty armourers of Toledo, collected by Achille Jubinal; but we had not an opportunity of putting our knowledge to the test, for there are no more swords at Toledo than leather at Cordova, lace at Mechlin, oysters at Ostend, or _Pâtés de Foie Gras_ at Strasburg; all curiosities are confined to Paris, and if you happen to meet a few abroad they are sure to have come from the shop of Mademoiselle Delaunay, on the Quai Voltaire.