“Aestus serenos aureo franges Tago Obscurus umbris arborum.”
but under the fierce Castilian sun--and there are said to be 3600 hours of sunshine in the year--the imagination produces no golden tints in the Tagus, and trees are few. Comfort the traveller will scarcely find, but serviceableness and courtesy on all sides. If he is wise, he will, however, imitate the Spaniards not only a little in their dress, but greatly in their manners. He will arm himself with an inalienable fund of patience. He will be courteous even while chafing at delay. His courtesy will never go unanswered. “_La cortesía tenerla con quien la tenga_, Courtesy to him who has it,” as one of Calderón’s characters says. Money often obtains much, but the offer of a cigarette or a cigar is often not less effective. Without a courteous manner the money will be treated as an insult and the cigar refused. Calderón says again: “_El sombrero y el dinero son los que hacen amigos_, Raising the hat and money make most friends.” Few peoples respect themselves more than the Spanish, and they look for respect from others. “The sensitive Spaniard bristles up like a porcupine against the suspicion of a disdain.” They do not forget that they were once the greatest people in Europe, and they regard it as an accident that the march of modern civilization has left them behind, being, indeed, too mechanical for their pride to adopt. And still the golden rule for the traveller in Spain is never to be in a hurry or never to show that he is in a hurry, for by doing so he will increase delays and defeat his object. He must learn the Spanish proverb thoroughly--_Paciencia y barajar_, “Patience, and shuffle the cards.” Patience and courtesy he will find to be above rubies. The Spaniard, so sensitive and excitable, remains unmoved by delays and petty official tyrannies which drive an Englishman into a kind of despair and fury of impatience.[50] But the lower officials in Spain are apt to be ignorant and self-important, very official, and curt inquiries only remind them that they represent the whole majesty of the Law and the State; they multiply their shrugs and inscrutable _No se puede_’s. On the other hand, a polite speech, though it occupy several of the few minutes that the traveller may have to spare, is in Spain time well spent and performs miracles;--if, that is, he still persists in considering the value of time, and has not found it simpler to accept the less accurate methods of the Spaniard. For he may ask in a cathedral, “When is Mass going to be celebrated?” and the answer is, “_No sé, Señor_; _Cuando vengan los canónigos_”--when it is the good pleasure of the Canons to appear; or he may ask in a station, “When does the train start?” and must not be surprised if the answer is again, “_No sé, Señor_.” He had best content himself once and for all to breakfast at five-o’clock tea, and will find consolation in the thought that here at least there is no unseemly rush and strain, in this original and exquisite land of To-morrow--_Mañana por la mañana_.