meal. For the first time this Spanish custom, which really seems
picturesque and fraternal when coming from shepherds or muleteers in a
mountain inn, struck me as the hollowest of forms. The gentleman knew
that I would not accept his invitation, nor he mine; he knew, moreover,
that I knew he did not wish me to accept it. The phrase, under such
conditions, becomes a cheat which offends the sacred spirit of
hospitality. How far the mere form may go was experienced by George
Sand, who, having accepted the use of a carriage most earnestly offered
to her by a Majorcan count, found the equipage at her door, it is true,
but with it a letter expressing so much vexation, that she was forced to
withdraw her acceptance of the favor at once, and to apologize for it! I
have always found much hospitality among the common people of Spain,
and I doubt not that the spirit exists in all classes; but it requires
some practice to distinguish between empty phrase and the courtesy which
comes from the heart. A people who boast of some special virtue
generally do not possess it.

My own slight intercourse with the Majorcans was very pleasant. On the
day of my arrival, I endeavored to procure a map of the island, but none
of the bookstores possessed the article. It could be found in one house
in a remote street, and one of the shopmen finally sent a boy with me to
the very door. When I offered money for the service, my guide smiled,
shook his head, and ran away. The map was more than fifty years old, and
drawn in the style of two centuries ago, with groups of houses for the
villages, and long files of conical peaks for the mountains. The woman
brought it down, yellow and dusty, from a dark garret over the shop, and
seemed as delighted with the sale as if she had received money for
useless stock. In the streets, the people inspected me curiously, as a
stranger, but were always ready to go out of their way to guide me. The
ground-floor being always open, all the features of domestic life and of
mechanical labor are exposed to the public. The housewives, the masters,
and apprentices, busy as they seem, manage to keep one eye disengaged,
and no one passes before them without notice. Cooking, washing, sewing,
tailoring, shoemaking, coopering, rope and basket making, succeed each
other, as one passes through the narrow streets. In the afternoon, the
mechanics frequently come forth and set up their business in the open
air, where they can now and the