The effect of this was the opposite to that which was intended. The negro treated himself at every house of entertainment on his road; until, before he had half accomplished his journey, he was totally incapacitated for further progress. This circumstance could not, however, influence the fate of the besieged prelates; who would have had time to give complete satisfaction to the offended Moors before the King could receive the intelligence. Fortunately for them, the news had reached the governor of Granada, a general officer in whose religious zeal they had not had sufficient confidence to induce them to apply to him for aid in the emergency. That officer, on hearing the state of things, sent for a body of troops stationed at a neighbouring village, to whose commander he gave orders to place a guard, for the protection at the same time of the churchmen from violent treatment, and of the Moors from every sort of molestation. This adventure of the Archbishop drew upon him the temporary displeasure of the Court.

The public buildings of Seville are on as grand a scale as those of some of the principal capitals of Europe. The college of San Telmo, fronting the Christina-gardens, is composed of two large quadrangles, behind a façade of five or six hundred feet in length, the centre of which is ornamented by a portal of very elaborate execution in the plateresco style. The architect, Matias de Figueroa, has literally crammed the three stories with carved columns, inscriptions, balconies, statues single and grouped, arches, medallions, wreaths, friezes. Without subjecting it to criticism on the score of purity, to which it makes no pretension, it certainly is rich in its general effect, and one of the best specimens of its style. This college was founded for the instruction of marine cadets, and for that reason named after S. Telmo, who is adopted by the mariners for their patron and advocate, as Santa Barbara is by the land artillery. He was a Dominican friar, and is recorded to have exercised miraculous influence on the elements, and thereby to have preserved the lives of a boatful of sailors, when on the point of destruction. The gardens in front of this building are situated between the river and the town walls. They are laid out in flower beds and walks. In the centre is a raised platform of granite, forming a long square of about an acre or more in extent, surrounded with a seat of white marble. It is entered at each end by an ascent of two or three steps. This is called the Salon, and on Sundays and Feast-days is the resort of the society of Seville. In the winter the hour of the promenade is from one to three o'clock; in the summer, the hours which intervene between sunset and supper. During winter as well as summer, the scent of the flowers of the surrounding gardens fills the Salon, than which it is difficult to imagine a more charming promenade.

The cigar manufactory is also situated outside the walls. It is a modern edifice of enormous dimensions, and not inelegant. In one of the rooms between two and three hundred cigareras, girls employed in rolling cigars, are seen at work, and heard likewise; for, such a Babel of voices never met mortal ear, although familiar with the music of the best furnished rookeries. The leaden roof, which covers the whole establishment, furnishes a promenade of several acres.

I am anxious to return to the interior of Seville, in order to introduce you to the Lonja; but we must not omit the Plaza de los Toros, (bull circus,) situated likewise outside the walls, and in view of the river. It is said to be the handsomest in Spain, as well as the largest. In fact it ought to be the best, as belonging to the principal city of the especial province of toreadores. It is approached by the gate nearest to the cathedral, and which deserves notice, being the handsomest gate of Seville. The principal entrance to the Plaza is on the opposite side from the town, where the building presents a large portion of a circle, ornamented with plain arches round the upper story. This upper portion extends only round a third part of the circus, which is the extent of the part completed with boxes and galleries, containing the higher class seats. All the remainder consists of an uniform series of retreating rows of seats, in the manner of an amphitheatre, sufficient for the accommodation of an immense multitude. These rows of seats are continued round the whole circus: but those beneath the upper building are not accessible to the same class of spectators as the others—the price of the place being different. This is regulated by the position with regard to the sun, the shaded seats being the dearest. The upper story consists of an elegant gallery, ornamented with a colonnade, in the centre of which the box of the president is surmounted by a handsomely decorated arch.

The circus, measured from the outside, is about two hundred and fifty feet in diameter. Those who are desirous of witnessing to what lengths human enthusiasm may be carried, should see a representation in this Plaza. With seven prime bulls from La Ronda, and a quadrille of Seville toreros—the enormous circumference as full as it can hold, (as it always is,) it is one of the most curious sights that can be met with.

The origin of this amusement is not easy to be ascertained. It was undoubtedly in vogue among the Spanish Arabs, and probably originated in the time of the Goths, on the falling off of the representations of the Roman amphitheatres for want of a sufficient supply of wild beasts. In times not very remote, it had become principally an amateur performance, and the toreros were men of rank, who made choice of this arena, subsequently to the falling into disuse of the lists, in order to exhibit their daring and dexterity before the objects of their flame. The science is still studied by the greater part of the Spanish youth; just as, in England, the custom is maintained of receiving instruction in pugilism; but an amateur is rarely seen in these days to figure in a public arena.

The intense interest which absorbs the feelings of those present at these representations, affords a faint notion of what must have been the attractions of a Roman circus, in which combats were sustained by hundreds of wild beasts. In the bull-fight—sustained by a single animal, the interest would not probably be excited by the mere contest for life which takes place between the man and the brute, and of which the ultimate result is foreseen. It would, on the contrary, often yield to the disgust produced by the needless massacre of the horses; were it not that the graceful performance of the toreros, and their elegant costume, so well calculated to set off the symmetry of their form, first draws the attention, which, once fixed, is gradually absorbed by the progress of the contest, and at length irresistibly won by the variety of unforeseen incidents which follow in rapid succession.

Frequenters of theatres have been seen to fall asleep during the most stirring scene of a melodrame; and a continual murmur of conversation usually forms a running accompaniment to the voices of opera singers; but no one was ever detected slumbering in a plaza de toros; nor is a remark uttered that does not relate to the performance. This difference may probably be explained by the superior attraction of the imprévu. In the playhouse not only is the event known beforehand, but also every incident by which it is preceded; whereas, throughout a corrida de toros nothing can be foreseen. No one knows, during the present minute, whether the next will give birth to the direst of tragedies, or to the most exhilarating farce.

At Madrid the representations are inferior to those at Seville. They are able, it is true, to procure as fierce bulls; but they are brought from a considerable distance, and are much more expensive. The principal inferiority consists in the men, who at Madrid are wanting in the rapidity of eye, and careless courage of the Andaluz. On the entrance of a bull on the arena, whose attitude gives promise of an animated course, almost all the Madrid toreros, (I have seen all,) will, at his first onset, disappear simultaneously over the barrera. The barrera is the enclosure of stout planks, strengthened by posts, which separates the performers from the spectators. It is about six feet in height. At a height of three feet a projecting ledge runs round the whole, upon which, in vaulting over, the toreador places his foot. Behind this enclosure an open space of four feet in width is left, and serves as a refuge for those who are hard pressed. Very different is the graceful and careless attitude with which the Andaluz awaits the approach of the infuriated brute, and quietly springs aside with a flourish of his mantle of silk, while he knows there are others at hand to draw off the animal's attention.