plain, but such external plainness is characteristic of most Eastern architecture. The Orientals superstitiously avoid

the evil eye of

envy, and rarely show the world the treasures they possess. So it was here. Externally the Alhambra was a frowning fortress; internally it was a voluptuous palace. Without, one

looked on un

attractive walls;

within, one

found the most enchanting ornamentation that the world has seen. The Alhambra resembles, therefore, a valiant warrior, fierce and unyielding in the heat of battle, yet full of tenderness in hours of relaxation.

Passing beyond this Gate of Justice we found ourselves in an extensive area, like the courtyard of a castle. "Where is the Alhambra?" I asked in disappointment; for I had expected to step at once into its famous halls. Instead of that, before us rose, from a mass of shrubbery and flowers, the ruined palace of Charles V,-begun but never finished by that

emperor, who had resolved to build here something better than the Alhambra. Accordingly, in obedience to that royal whim, a large part of the Moorish palace was torn down to make room for this structure, which seems as much out of place within these walls as did the Christian chapel in the Mosque of Cordova.

The interior of the ruined palace of Charles V is a place where travelers sometimes feel a trifle nervous in the evening.

In fact, during my stay on the Alhambra Hill, a great excitement was caused one morning by the declaration of a French gentleman that he had been dogged by footpads here the night before. He said he had been forced at last to run from them, arriving pale and breathless at the hotel door.

Inves

tigation proved, however, that the reputed footpads were agents of the Government, ordered to keep close watch on relic-hunters, and they had deemed the Frenchman's fear a proof of guilt.

Leaving this useless ruin, we eagerly passed through a At once, modest doorway and stood in the Alhambra itself.

surpassed by the snowy feet of the fair sultanas who lightly trod them, for this was the bathing-place of the wives of the caliphs. In the centre is still

a marble basin of water, one hundred and thirty feet in length, now tenanted by goldfish and surrounded by hedges of myrtle and orange-trees, bright with their glistening leaves and golden fruit. At each end of this enclosure we saw a row of slender marble columns.

supporting walls which looked like chiseled ivory. Above us was a characteristic Alhambra roof, composed of countless bits of cedar-wood inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and looking like the cells of a honeycomb or a grotto of stalactites. The whole place seemed so delicate and dainty, that I at first had scruples about walking freely on its marble pavement. In the walls are little openings surmounted by exquisitely sculptured arches, resembling the convolutions of a shell. It is supposed

by some that these tiny mural alcoves held the slippers of the sultanas while they went to bathe. Others maintain that they contained some of the rare Alhambra vases; while others still believe that here were placed at night elegant porcelain lamps to shed a softened light upon the matchless decorations of the walls. However this may be, it is impossible to linger in this lovely court without imagining scenes which must have once occurred beneath these delicate arcades, when a sultana made her toilette attended by her female slaves. It seems incredible that this fair palace has not been tenanted for cen