degree strength, agility, and grace.  Even women have been toreros and Madame Dieulafoy tells of one Doña, Maria de Gaucin, who left her convent to become a torero; then, after gaining renown throughout Spain for her exploits in the bull-ring, returned to the practices of religion.  Only in Spain would such division of a life be thought perfectly natural, perfectly seemly.

The bull-fight was established in Spain in the eleventh or twelfth century, and is of Moorish origin.  The bull would also seem to have come first from Africa.  But the spectacular and ceremonial character of the contest is certainly adapted from the Roman combats, the influence of which had survived among the old Spaniards.

Every Spanish town has its Plaza de Toros.  Here, and especially at Seville during the Easter festival, you will see all the population of the place, a motley crowd of men and women.  Señoras in white lace mantillas and white dresses, and their cavaliers, the gay Sevillanos, side by side with the gente flamenca and the cigarreras in lovely shawls, their hair elaborately arranged, with a white flower showing against its blackness; for the bull-fight is a democratic institution, where the greatest foregather with the people.  The patience of the vast crowd is perfect as they await the advent of the appointed hour.  All are animated with a suppressed seriousness, the prelude to violent emotion which is so characteristic of the Spaniard.

The entire performance is carried out with an elaborate ceremony of detail which the stranger often finds difficult to appreciate.  The President enters his palco.  Then follows the paseo de la cuadrilla, the processional entrance of the bull-fighters, grave, handsome men, in their beautiful and varied costumes of yellow and violet, gold and green, or whatever the chosen colours may be.  The procession moves slowly across the ring; there is no haste.  Each one in turn gravely and with perfect grace salutes the President, who then throws down the key of the bulls’ den, the toril.  In a few moments the first bull rushes into the arena.  The combat has begun.

The fight is divided into three acts.  In the Suerte de Picar, the first, the picadores, dressed in round felt hats, short cloaks, and long leggings of plaited steel, and mounted on blindfolded horses, in turn receive the charge of the bull, thrusting him aside with their long pikes.  Sometimes they come to close quarters, a picador is thrown, his horse is wounded, or perhaps killed.  The shouts of the now excited crowd show that this is the critical moment.  The picador rises quickly, another horse is brought, while the chulos divert the attention of the bull by dexterous waving of their brightly coloured cloaks.  When the bull is sufficiently wearied—for this is the object of the first act in the drama—the President gives a signal, and the picadores retire.

The banderilleros take their place.  This is the Suerte de Banderillear, the second act, the object of which is to inflame the bull.  The banderilleros place the barbed darts, or banderillas, in the shoulders of the bull.  Each is about 2 feet long, of curious device, and ornamented with long coloured streamers.  It is the most exciting part of the combat.  The utmost skill, agility, and daring, are needed to plant the darts.  There must be no bungling, no second of hesitation.  It is now that the excitement of the spectators is really aroused, for a sense of solemnity is given by the possible presence of death.  A banderillero may be seen to seize hold of the lashing tail, swing himself along the beast’s side, and plant his dart between its horns.  It is done with surprising skill, with delight, and with passion; and the applause of the spectators swells to a great roar, which refuses to be silenced.

The last act is the Suerte de Matar.  The chief espada comes into the ring; to him belongs the honour of the death.  First he approaches the President, and solemnly dedicates to him the slaying of the bull.  He is armed with a short Toledan blade and the muleta, a small red cloth.  Calmly he walks towards the bull.  And now a silence falls upon the hitherto raging crowd.  It is the moment of pause, of silent waiting for the most violent emotion of all.  First he plays with the now infuriated and wearied beast.  There is still no hurrying.  The Spaniard wishes always to gain the very utmost out of his sensations.  The bull is teased by the waving of the red cloth, and in this way is made to take the proper position for the death-blow.  The espada watches his moment; then, with unerring decision, he buries the blade in the bull’s neck between the shoulders, and walks slowly to the President’s box, with absolute composure and a dignity that is almost defiant.  Deafening cheers greet him, rewards and costly tributes are thrown, and he is presented with a great bouquet of flowers.  How Spanish is this ending, which rewards the slayer with flowers!

It is over; the ring is cleared, sand is raked over the pools of blood, a new bull is driven forward, again the drama begins.  Six times the scene is re-acted, and a seventh bull, a toro de gracia, is added at the first bull-fight of the year.

In this repetition of emotions, this delight in heaping up sensations, we have a very real revelation of the Spanish temperament.  And this explains the devotion of the people to the bull-fight.  When we come to estimate the Spanish character, we shall find that the Spaniard has the qualities which belong to all primitive people.  The sentiment of sympathy with suffering is essentially a modern one.  The Spaniard is still the Moor, his ancestor.  He is cruel because he is indifferent to pain, his own or another’s.

CHAPTER II—THE SPANISH PEOPLE

The Character of the People—Their Quietness and Sobriety—Their Cruelty—This the Result of their Stoicism and Indifference to Pain—These the Qualities of a Strong and Primitive People—The Feria, the Holiday of the Sevillians—Religion: its Place in the National Life—The Dance of the Seises—Holy Week in Seville—Religious Processions—The Pasos.

The character of the Spaniard, as one gradually learns to know it, not from a brief visit spent tourist fashion in hurrying from one city to another, but from living among the people, sharing their common life and entering into their spirit, is a very positive character.  And this character, though at first