BASQUE CHILDREN.

manners. I thought I would risk some hymns for him, though a tract I was rather afraid of, as he still went to school, and was of course under the priests. But, after ascertaining that he could read Spanish, I began, in the best Spanish I could master, to tell him I had got a canto here which was very good and nice, and I would give it him. So I gave one to him, and one to a girl who seemed anxious to get it. The boy kissed the paper with gratitude, and said a verse aloud to me, at my request. I then said, as I was walking along the sands with him, 'You see, it is said here, Jesus is my Friend, my King,"-pointing to all the titles given in the hymn-'so Jesus is all; it is necessary to believe in him for all nothing else; he is all.' My Spanish would not go much further than this very humble attempt at instruction. attempt at instruction. How I did long to have them all in a really Christian school. Those bright eyes showed such intelligence: is it all to be wasted? God grant that a Biscayan missionary may yet come to these hills, and gather a sheaf for the Lord of the vineyard!

“We had a rather windy drive in the afternoon, which made the clouds hang over the mountains, so that they did not look their best; but it was a fine and varied scene, and Ezpeitia perfectly lovely. It was yet daylight when we reached that little town, famous as the birthplace of Loyola, and possessing a college, where those mischief-mongers his followers have a headquarters.

"The town of Ezpeitia is hardly more than a village, but old and very picturesque. It stands in a wide valley of rich meadows, with a rapid troutstream running over stones and rocks in the midst of it, and a whole circle of mountains of various heights round it, some bare, and showing thin grey limestone, others broken by cultivation, and clumps of foliage, cork-trees, oak, and beech. The hotel, alias fonda, alias parador-the last is the favourite term here astonished me by its cleanliness, compared to what we had heard of Spanish inns. Some friends had told us that the inns in Biscay were dirty, the food very bad, and the people uncivil. Our short experiences were exactly contrary. The inn at Ezpeitia was very decent, as well as delightfully picturesque: the salon windows opened on little balconies, embowered in apricot-trees trained over them, and covered with bright green fruit; dark polished floors were here, though somewhat uneven; and there was a Rembrandt-like kitchen, where a benevolent-looking old dame, with a white kerchief on her head, presided over the cookery, which, when served up, proved remarkably good.

Early next morning I was at the window, looking out at the pleasant scene, and enjoying a quiet bit of time before my companion was awake. The proper Spanish breakfast is a tiny cup of chocolate, without a saucer, a couple of small sweet cakes or a morsel of bread, a large glass of water, and a sugarilla, made of sugar and white of egg, to put in the water. The people were all exceedingly courteous and civil. I have never met pleasanter manners than those of Spanish Basques. Afterwards we set out for the Jesuit college

and church, very beautifully situated about a mile from the town, and well worth sketching, from its graceful Saracenic style. However, I preferred making my drawing at a point some distance from the building, and letting

the rest of the party go on to visit the interior. While I was drawing, a venerable-looking poor man passed by, and stepped back to glance at my picture. So of course I had a little bit of chat, as far as I could manage, and At first he would not take it, and I was feeling disappointed; gave him a tract.

a

AMONG THE BASQUES.

but it came out that he refused, thinking it was the only Spanish book I had, and that I would want it to learn Spanish. 'Toma señor,' said I, earnestly; and he thanked me, and took it and went on his way.

'Leaving Ezpeitia we ascended a mountain, so steep that two stout oxen were harnessed to the carriage in front of the horses. It was a mountain pass, on the Spanish side of the Pyrenees, and a very beautiful one in many ways. The foliage was exceedingly fine and luxuriant; such groves of beech in all the splendour of their early summer green, and with merino sheep feeding under them, and grey rocks jutting out amid heath, and fern, and grass, adorned with tufts of blue columbines, and a pretty pink blossom. The cottages of the Biscayan peasantry were an unceasing object of admiration, being of picturesque forms, and white or buff-coloured, with red-tiled roofs and little wooden balconies with vines trained over them, and just the happy mixture of neatness and neglect that comes best into a landscape; on the whole, far superior to the French. The farming, too, was pronounced better by those of our party competent to judge: certainly the land between the rocks and ravines seemed very fertile, and most carefully laboured, if in somewhat primitive style. The men, driving a simple plough, or working up the land with great forks, were usually attended and aided by their little boys; and women, with white sleeves and blue skirts, tucked up so as to show a red petticoat, were busy weeding. The oxen here are much finer and larger than the Bearnese: they are shod with iron, like horses. The carts are very primitive, having solid wheels, which must be very heavy, and make a great creaking: the effect is odd, used as we are to spokes in wheels.

"By half-past six we reached Tolosa, our next halt; a very pretty town, but not in such scenery as Ezpeitia. A brisk river runs through it, which is turned to account for two manufactories—one of cloth from the merino wool, the other paper. This is a great thing for so small a place, and improves it much, by giving employment. Between Tolosa and Pampelona is no town,-nothing but miserable villages, where no one would sleep unless in very sore necessity. 'At an early hour all were up. The morning was brilliant, and the little river sparkled as we crossed the bridge. A real mountain pass, equal to most of the Swiss passes, only without the snow-peaks, was now our route. Here in winter it is cold enough for snow, but not so late as this; indeed the sun was exceedingly hot, but a breeze, which in some of the ravines became a wind, prevented it being at all oppressive.

"A small village, within the borders of Navarre, and situated between two splendid passes, is the usual and only rest between Ezpeitia and Tolosa. A house where a toll had to be paid marked the boundary, and a huge chain hung before it, which we were told was put up at night just across the road. This chain marks the line between Biscay and Navarre. On the Biscay side no man can be taken by conscription for a soldier, for the Basques will not submit to this. They often enlist voluntarily, and make good soldiers; several

generals of note have been Basques; but force they will not stand. The few people we saw were much less dark than the Spanish Basques, and not so welllooking. The road has so much traffic with merchandise for San Sebastian, that a posada with plenty of stabling and food is found there. It was a real Spanish posada-the ground-floor all occupied by stables full of newly-arrived mules and horses, and pigs running about on it. Through this we had to pick our steps to a staircase not of the cleanest, and came to a picturesque kitchen, where huge logs lay on the floor endways to the fire, above which swung a pot. Everything was in primitive style. In a room opposite a number of muleteers and carters were eating and talking. Up another flight of dirty stairs, we reached the grand guest-chamber, which, if not clean, was not actually filthy. The windows, as in all the common houses in Navarre, were mostly of wood in the cottages nothing but wooden shutters are used, with a peephole for cold days. They brought us some odd kind of broth with bread boiled in it, which is not bad; then a plate of garbanzos; and then some lamb roasted in pieces as big as one's hand, and very good, in spite of a soupçon of garlic. The Spanish cooking is certainly maligned, at least in the north. We got good fare everywhere; and this was a mere posada, frequented by natives. Excellent bread, and good wine with a rather pleasant astringency, were liberally supplied.

"While the horses were putting to, I went down among the carters, and managed to catch two by themselves, to whom I gave a tract, which was accepted willingly; and, after we had started, the one who had taken it was observed reading so attentively that his oxen had actually come to a dead stop. I have not dared to give tracts in a large circle for fear of mischief. The road now lay through another pass, celebrated as the scene of much guerilla warfare, and, I suspect, of sundry robber exploits also. Baptiste, our cocher, told many robber tales to raise our spirits; but the patrol is pretty watchful, and by day there is no danger. One part of this pass is called the Two Sisters (Dos Hermañas), being the name of two magnificent rocks of different sizes, which stand sentinels on each side of the road. Green slopes surround them, with short brushwood, and a stream flows beneath, where there is a little establishment of iron-works, which does not injure the scene. Here we got down and sat a short time to draw, though not nearly long enough, but as long as was prudent; for, as it was, we barely reached Pampelona by daylight.

"After the Dos Hermañas the mountains gradually lowered, and at length we came to a district much inferior both in beauty and fertility. The villages were still pretty, but the land was monotonous and poor-looking. Pampelona stands well, however, with a range of low hills gradually rising in the distance; and its fine fortifications and beautiful citadel-towers, one above another, and the old Spanish houses with their numerous windows and varied shades of buff and pinkish walls, are all worth seeing. Though a small town for one of such

AMONG THE BASQUES.

importance, it is well built and compact, and clean, as far as we could see, after having walked over a great part.

"It was late on the Friday evening that we arrived at Pampelona, and nothing could be done that night, except to scrape up our Spanish words, in order to get what the weary 'outer man' needed in various ways; for though I do think the Spanish inns, at least in Biscay and Navarre, have been maligned, still, if any one expects, on arriving at this, the capital of the province, to find, in the best inns' best rooms, ewers, and towels, and water, and tumblers, and so on, he will be disappointed. Clean beds, on iron steads, were a great point, and the stone floor, was covered with a matting, which hid the dust. nicely; only the maid had forgotten to sweep under it the former occupants' half-burnt cigars! Little tripods answered to hold basins, and aqua fria and pano de maña were soon added by Antonia or Dolores. It sounded rather like a story than reality to hear these graceful names shouted about.

"On Saturday we 'did' Pampelona pretty completely. First, we walked about the streets, staring, like savages just come to a civilized country, at the queer little shops and the ladies with their graceful mantillas. I have not seen one bonnet here, and our hats are stared at as novelties by all the lower orders. I do not see so many really handsome faces as in San Sebastian; but all are graceful, and, with coloured shawls under the mantillas, look perfect pictures; some, in deep crimson, scarlet, or maize-coloured silk, and cashmere shawls, black dresses, and mantillas, look very nice. If the shawl be an innovation, it is an improvement. An old gentleman, called Don, has been exceedingly civil to us all. He was an old political exile, and for years resided in England. He possesses considerable property, and, belonging to one of the old Navarre families, is much thought of. He took us over the cathedral, of which the cloisters are very fine and old, and showed us every antiquity that could be seen. In the cathedral, mass going on, the Don took us to an inner part, where we sat on beautiful carved wooden seats, and listened to some very singular, though fine music. It was so rapid: I never heard sacred music so quick.

"We spent our Sunday in Pampelona. Early in the morning we went for a quiet walk. The view from the ramparts was splendid. I had no idea, in the haze of Saturday, what an extent of mountains was visible; the deep blue of those more distant heights, and the warmer tints of those nearer, rising from the plateau on which the eminence stands on which Pampelona is built. The river, fringed with cypress, poplar, and elm trees, runs just below the fortifications. After a service in our rooms, we separated, as the others wished to walk, and I required a quiet time. Later in the afternoon I joined them in the Paseo,' or promenade, close to the hotel. I put on for this walkas it was now become quite mild, yet without much sun-the new mantilla I had purchased the day before. As I went down-stairs I peeped into the kitchen to ask one of the women if it was put on right, and the fat landlady