power to some rickety old stone mill and add variety to the scene. On
the not far-off hills are castles, border fortresses in ruins, whose
gray towers have borne witness to the conflicts of armor-clad warriors
in the days of Castilian knighthood and glory. What interest hangs about
these rude battlements! In looking back upon the ancient days it is
fortunate that the mellowing influence of time dims the vision, and we
see as through a softening twilight; otherwise we should behold such
harshness as would embitter all. The olden time, like the landscape,
appears best in the purple distance.

The general aspect of the country since we left Malaga in the south has
been rather disappointing, and the rural appearance on this beautiful
trip from Burgos to San Sebastian is therefore the more heartily
appreciated. It should be called the garden of Spain, the well-watered
valleys and plains being spread with a carpet of exquisite verdure. In
the far distance one detects snow-clad mountains, which in fact are not
out of sight during the entire journey. Thousands of acres are covered
by the vine from the product of which comes our sherry wine. It is
impossible not to feel a sense of elation amid the delightful scenery
and while breathing the genial air. Nature seems to be in her merriest
mood, clothing everything in poetic attire, rendering more than
beautiful the gray hamlets on the hillsides, over which rise square
bell-towers, about which the red-tiled cottages cluster. Outside of
these are seen family groups, some sewing, some spinning, while children
gleefully tumble about and play in the inviting grass.

San Sebastian is a somewhat famous watering-place, situated on the
boisterous Bay of Biscay, and drawing its patronage largely from Madrid,
though of late many English people have resorted thither. It is a small
city, but the thriftiest and most business-like, when its size is
considered, to be found in the borders of Spain. The place was entirely
destroyed by fire when captured from the French by the English, a piece
of sanguinary work which cost the latter five thousand lives! It was on
this occasion that Wellington is reported to have said, "The next most
dreadful thing to a battle lost is a battle won."

After leaving San Sebastian our first stopping-place is Bayonne; that
is, "Good Port." It is a city of some thirty thousand inhabitants,
situated at the junction of the Adour and Nive rivers, in the Lower
Pyrenees. Her