y
feelings, for everything is delicate and beautiful. The very light
falls tenderly from above, through the lantern of a dome tinted and
wrought as if by fairy hands. Through the ample and fretted arch of
the portal I behold the Court of Lions, with brilliant sunshine
gleaming along its colonnades and sparkling in its fountains. The
lively swallow dives into the court, and, rising with a surge,
darts away twittering over the roofs; the busy bee toils humming
among the flower-beds; and painted butterflies hover from plant to
plant, and flutter up and sport with each other in the sunny air.
It needs but a slight exertion of the fancy to picture some pensive
beauty of the harem loitering in these secluded haunts of Oriental
luxury.

"He, however, who would behold this scene under an aspect more in
unison with its fortunes, let him come when the shadows of evening
temper the brightness of the court, and throw a gloom into the
surrounding halls. Then nothing can be more serenely melancholy, or
more in harmony with the tale of departed grandeur.

"At such times I am apt to seek the Hall of Justice, whose deep
shadowy arcades extend across the upper end of the court. Here was
performed, in presence of Ferdinand and Isabella and their
triumphant court, the pompous ceremonial of high mass, on taking
possession of the Alhambra. The very cross is still to be seen upon
the wall, where the altar was erected, and where officiated the
Grand Cardinal of Spain, and others of the highest religious
dignitaries of the land. I picture to myself the scene when this
place was filled with the conquering host, that mixture of mitred
prelate and shaven monk, and steel-clad knight and silken courtier;
when crosses and crosiers and religious standards were mingled with
proud armorial ensigns and the banners of the haughty chiefs of
Spain, and flaunted in triumph through these Moslem halls. I
picture to myself Columbus, the future discoverer of a world,
taking his modest stand in a remote corner, the humble and
neglected spectator of the pageant. I see in imagination the
Catholic sovereigns prostrating themselves before the altar, and
pouring forth thanks for their victory; while the vaults resound
with sacred minstrelsy and the deep-toned Te Deum.

"The transient