The council of Flanders have now only the name; as the King of England bears that of France.—­The formal manner which men, high in office or blood, observe in paying or receiving visits, is very singular:  the inquisitor-general, for instance, has several black lines marked upon the floor of his anti-chamber, by which he limits the civilities he is to shew to men, according to the rank or office they bear:  he has his black marks for an embassador, an envoy, &c.  When people of condition at Madrid propose to make a visit, it is previously announced by a page, to know the day and hour they can be received; and this ceremony is often used on ordinary visits, as well as those of a more public nature:  the page too has his coach to carry him upon these errands.  I have seen the account of a visit made by the Cardinal of Arragon to the Admiral of Castile, the train of which filled the whole street; he was carried by six servants in a magnificent chair, and followed by his body coach drawn by eight mules, attended by his gentlemen, pages, esquires, all mounted on horseback, and arrayed in a most sumptuous manner.  Every order of men assume an air of importance in Spain.  I have been assured, that when a shoemaker has been called upon to make a pair of shoes, he would not undertake the work till he had first enquired of Dona, his wife, whether there was any money in the house? if she answered in the affirmative, he would not work.  Even the beggars do not give up this universal privilege, as the following instance will evince:—­A foreigner of fashion, who was reading in a bookseller’s shop in Madrid, was accosted by one of the town beggars, who in an arrogant manner asked his charity, in terms which implied a demand rather than a favour.  The stranger made no reply, nor did he take the least notice, but determined to continue reading, and dismiss the insolent beggar by his silent contempt:  this encreased the beggar’s hardiness; he told him, he might find time enough to read after he had attended to his request, and what he had to say.  But still the gentleman read on, and disregarded his rudeness.  At length, the beggar stept up to him, and with an air of the utmost insolence, at the same time taking him hold by the arm, added, What! neither charity, nor courtesy?  By this time, the stranger lost all patience, and was going to correct him for his temerity:—­Stop, Sir, (said the beggar, in a lower tone of voice) hear me;—­pardon, me, Sir; do you not know me?  No, certainly; replied the stranger, But, said he, you ought, for I was secretary to an embassy in a certain capital, where we lived together in intimacy; and then told him his name, and the particular misfortunes which had reduced him to that condition; he expressed himself with art, address, and eloquence, and succeeded in getting money from the gentleman, though he could not convince him that he was his old acquaintance.