It was at Jaen that I saw more national and picturesque costumes than anywhere else. The men were attired, for the most part, in blue velvet breeches, adorned with silver filigrane buttons, and Ronda gaiters embellished with aiglets and stitching, and worked with arabesques on leather of a darker colour. It is considered the height of elegance to button but the first two or three buttons, at the top and bottom, so as to let the calf be seen. Wide sashes of red or yellow silk, jackets of brown cloth variously trimmed, blue or maroon cloaks, pointed hats with slouched brims, ornamented with bands of velvet and silk tassels, complete the costume, which is very similar to the ancient dress of Italian brigands: others wore what is called a _vestido de cazador_ (hunter's dress), which is made entirely of buckskin of a tawny colour, and of green velvet. Some women of the lower class had red cloaks and hoods, which seemed to make the darker part of the crowd sparkle brightly, and to bespangle it with scarlet. The fantastic style of dress, the swarthy complexion, the energy depicted in the features, the fiery eyes, with the calm and impassible attitude of these _majos_, more numerous here than anywhere else, impart to the population of Jaen an aspect more African than European: an illusion which is kept up still more by the intense heat of the climate, the dazzling whiteness of the houses, which are all whitewashed in the Arabian fashion, the tawny colour of the ground, and the unchanging azure of the sky. The following proverb on Jaen is in current use in Spain: "Ugly town, bad people;" but no painter would ever admit it to be true. But then, there as here, a handsome town in the eyes of most people is a town laid out by rule and line, and furnished with a certain number of lamps and tradesmen. On leaving Jaen, you enter a valley which stretches as far as the Vega de Granada. The beginning of it is arid; barren mountains continually crumbling away through dryness scorch you, like burning mirrors, with their canescent reverberation; the only sign of vegetation is to be found in a few sickly-looking tufts of fennel. But soon the valley becomes narrower and deeper; streams begin to flow, and vegetation reappears, bringing with it shade and coolness. The _Rio_ of Jaen occupies the bottom of the valley, where it rushes rapidly along between the stones and rocks which torment it and stop its course at every instant. By it runs the road, which follows it in all its sinuosities; for, in mountainous countries, the torrents are as yet the most skilful engineers in tracing out routes, and the wisest thing to do is to follow their directions. [Illustration: VEGA DE GRANADA.]