The stranger is astonished at the happy calmness, the tranquil dignity of the faces he sees around him. No one has that busy look which is noticeable in the persons hurrying through the streets of Paris. Every one strolls leisurely along, choosing the shady side of the street, stopping to chat with his friends, and betraying no desire to arrive at his destination in the shortest possible time. The certitude of not being able to make money extinguishes all ambition: there is no chance of a young man making a brilliant career. The most adventurous among them go to Manilla or Havannah, or enter the army, but on account of the piteous state of the public finances, they sometimes wait for years without hearing anything about pay. Convinced of the inutility of exertion, Spaniards do not endeavour to make fortunes, for they know that such things are quite out of the question; and they therefore pass their time in a delightful state of idleness, favoured by the beauty of the country and the heat of the climate. I saw nothing of Spanish pride; nothing is so deceptive as the reputation bestowed on individuals and nations. On the contrary, I found them exceedingly simple-minded and good-natured; Spain is the true country of equality, if not in words at least in deeds. The poorest beggar lights his _papelito_ at the _puro_ of a powerful nobleman, who allows him to do so, without the slightest affectation of condescension; a marchioness will step, with a smile, over the bodies of the ragged vagabonds who are slumbering across her threshold, and, when travelling, will not make a face if compelled to drink out of the same glass as the _mayoral_, the _zagul_, and the _escopetero_ of the diligence. Foreigners find great difficulty in accustoming themselves to this familiarity, especially the English, who have their letters brought upon salvers, and take them with tongs. An Englishman travelling from Seville to Jeres, told his _calesero_ to go and get his dinner in the kitchen. The calesero, who, in his own mind, thought he was honouring a heretic very highly by sitting down at the same table with him, did not make the slightest remark, and concealed his rage as carefully as the villain in a melodrama; but about three or four leagues from Jeres, in the midst of a frightful desert, full of quagmires and bushes, he threw the Englishman very neatly out of the vehicle, shouting to him as he whipped on his horse: "My lord, you did not think me worthy of sitting at your table, and I, Don Jose Balbino Bustamente y Orozco, do not think you good enough to sit on the seat in my calesin. Good evening!"