ighest estimation, but wild horses
will not drag from him an acknowledgment of the fact; whereby humanism
and the general stock of self-esteem are notably diminished.

Nothing can be more graceful than their mode of speech, for the very
construction of the language conduces to courtesy. The Spaniards have
also an oriental way of offering you things, placing themselves and
their houses entirely at your disposal. If you remark on anything of
theirs they beg you at once to take it. If you go into a pot-house where
a peasant is dining on a plate of ham, a few olives, and a glass of
wine, he will ask: '_Le gusta_,' 'Will you have some,' with a little
motion of handing you his meal. Of course it would be an outrage to
decorum to accept these generous offers, but that is beside the
question; for good manners are not an affair of the heart, but a
complicated game to be learned and played on either side with due
attention to the rules. It may be argued that such details are not
serious; but surely for the common round of life politeness is more
necessary than any heroic qualities. We need our friends' self-sacrifice
once in a blue moon, but their courtesy every day; and for my own part,
I would choose the companions of my leisure rather for their good
breeding than for the excellence of their dispositions.

Beside this, however, the Andalusians are much attached to children, and
it is pleasant to see the real fondness which exists between various
members of a family. One singular point I have noted, that although the
Spanish marry for love rather than from convenience, a wife puts
kindred before husband, her affection remaining chiefly where it was
before marriage. But if the moralist desires yet more solid virtues, he
need only inquire of the first Sevillan he meets, who will give at
shortest notice, in choice and fluent language, a far more impressive
list than I could ever produce.

XV

[Sidenote: Don Juan Tenorio]

On its own behalf each country seems to choose one man, historical or
imaginary, to stand for the race, making as it were an incarnation of
all the virtues and all the vices wherewith it is pleased to charge
itself; and nothing really better explains the character of a people
than their choice of a national hero. Fifty years ago John Bull was the
typical Englishman. Stout, rubicund and healthy, with a loud voice and a
somewhat aggressive manner, he belonged distinctly to the middle
classes. He had a