Grenada-capable of solacing alike the ills of the the caravan and the monotonous song of the body or the chagrins of the soul. Of the latter muleteer. The latter occasionally interrupted his the Abencerrages prized chiefly those which romance to encourage his mules, by apostrophizing served to calm vain regrets, to dissipate foolish them as beautiful or valorous, or to chide them illusions, and to disperse those fleeting hopes of with the epithets idle and obstinate. happiness which occasionally arise in the minds of the unfortunate. Unhappily, however, these simples had sometimes virtues of an opposite nature, and frequently did the fragrant perfume of a flower produce the effect of a poisonous exhalation on the illustrious exiles. A few sheep conducted by a shepherd like an army through the yellow and uncultivated fields, and some solitary travellers, far from spreading life around, served only to render the prospect more desolate and deserted. Each traveller wore a sword at his side, and an ample cloak, and a broad-leafed hat, which shaded nearly half the visage from sight, completed their costume. They saluted Aben Hamet in passing, but the latter only distinguished in this noble salutation the ing at the venta, the Abencerrage took his place in the midst of the strangers without being importuned by any indiscreet curiosity. None spoke to him; none questioned him. His turban, robes, and arms excited no astonishment. Therefore, since Allah had decreed that the Moors should be deprived of this lovely country, Aben Hamet could not abstain from admiring the grave politeness of the conquerors. A quarter of a century had nearly rolled away since the taking of Grenada, and in this short period of time fourteen Abencerrages had perished by the change of climote, the accidents incident to a wandering life, and, above all, by disappoint-names of God, Lord, and cavalier. In the evenment and despair, which, like dripping water, slowly undermines the strength and forces of men. One single shoot was the sole remaining hope of this once famous house. Aben Hamet bore the name of that Abencerrage who was accused by the Zegris of having seduced the Sultana Alfaima. In him were united the beauty, valor, courtesy, and generosity of his ancestors, with that soft éclat and that light tinge of sorrow which ever accompany misfortunes, nobly sustained. When only twenty-two years of age he lost his father. He then resolved to make a pilgrimage to the land of his forefathers to satisfy the yearnings of his heart, and to accomplish, if possible, a design which he carefully concealed in his secret heart. Emotions yet more keen awaited the Abencerrage at the end of his journey. Grenada is built at the foot of the mountain range of the Sierra Nevada, upon two lofty hills separated by a deep valley. The houses ranged closely along the slopes of either hill, and in the bottom of the He sailed from the harbour of Tunis in a light valley, give to the city the exact appearance of xebeque; a favouring breeze quickly wafted him an open Pomegranate, and hence its name. Two to Carthagena, when he disembarked, and was rivers the Xenil and the Darro, wash the feet of soon on his way to Grenada. He announced these two hills, and there uniting their golden himself as an Arabian physician come to herborize floods meander peacefully through the midst of a amongst the rocks of the Sierra Nevada. A quiet charming plain, called La Vega. This plain mule carried him steadily through the country which the city overlooks, is covered with vines, where formerly the Abencerrages sped on their Pomegranates, Figtrees, Mulberries and Oranges, warlike coursers. A guide preceded him, con- and is surrounded by mountains of romantic apducting two other mules adorned with bells and pearance, an enchanting sky, and air pure and tufts of many colored wools. Aben Hamet tra- delicious. The refreshing breezes of the mounversed the wide heaths and extensive palm foreststains, the soft carolling of thousands of birds, and of the kingdom of Murcia, and his heart was the bright peace and tranquility of the sceLe pierced with regret at the thought that these palms must have been planted by the hands of his fathers. Now a tower shewed its battlements where once the sentinel had watched in the time of the war between Moor and Christian. Now a ruin peeped forth, whose architecture announced its Moorish origin. Fresh cause of grief for the When Aben Hamet first descried the distant Abencerrage! He descended from his mule, and roofs of the first edifice of Grenada, his heart beat under pretext of seeking for plants concealed him- so violently that he was obliged to check lis self a few moments in the ruins to give free vent mule. Folding his arms tightly o'er his an ple to his misery. At length he betook himself to breast, and fastening his eyes on the sacred city, the route, dreaming to the noise of the bells of he remained mute and immoveable. The guide cause to steal over the soul a secret languor, which the passing traveller has scarce courage to overcome. Heroism would speedily have been extinguished in this country by the more tender passions of the soul, were it not, that love, to be true, always requires the company of glory. stopped in his turn and as all lofty sentiments are easily understood by a Spaniard, he appeared touched, and divined that the Moor reviewed his ancient home. At length the Abencerrage broke the silence. Oh guide, cried he, mayest thou live happy and respected, conceal not the truth from me, for calm reigned o'er the waves the day of thy birth, and the moon was entering its crescent. What towers are those which glitter like stars above a green forest? 'Tis the Alhambra, answered the guide. And yonder castle upon the opposite hill? interrogated Aben Hamet.— The Generalife, replied the Spaniard. There is, in that castle, a garden planted with myrtles, where they pretend the Abencerrage was surprised with the Sultana Alfaima. Further off you may see the Albaizyn, and nearer to us the Tours Vermeilles, (or Vermilion Towers). Each syllable uttered by the guide, pierced the heart of Aben Hamet like a dagger thrust. How cruel is it to learn from strangers, where lie the monuments and remains of parents and friends, or to be told by indifferent and careless bystanders' the history of family and friends. The guide, however, soon put an end to the reflections of Aben Hamet, by calling out: "Speed on, Senor Moro, speed on. 'Tis the will of God. Take courage. Is not Francis the first, himself a prisoner in our Madrid? It is the will of God." Then lifting his hat, he made the sign of the cross, and whipped up his mules. The Abencerrage pressing on his own in turn, muttered, "Tis Destiny," and then they descended to Grenada. On their way down, they passed near the huge oak, celebrated by the combat of Muza Ben Abil Gazan, and the Grand Master of Calatrava, under the last King of Grenada. They made the circuit of the Alamerda, and entered the city by the Elvira gate, and having mounted the Rambla, soon arrived at a square Plaza, surrounded on all sides by houses of Moor ish architecture. A Khan was open on this square for the receptien of Moors from Africa, whom the silk trade of the Vega, attracted in crowds to Grenada. Thither his guide conducted Aben Hamet. The Abencerrage was too agitated to taste even a slight repose in his new abode, for his soul was troubled with thoughts of his country. walls loomed dimly through the surrounding darkness, was formerly the residence of the Abencerrage's. Perchance here it was on this solitary spot that those feasts were given which raised the glory of Grenada unto the skies. Here tripped the dancers clothed in splendid vestments of brocade and silk. Then advanced the galleries loaded with sweet scented flowers and precious armour, and here again, the dragons darting fire, which concealed Mustrion's warriors in their hollow flanks. But alas, these ingenious inventions of pleasure and gallantry, were faded and gone forever, and in place of the sound of the anafius, the noise of trumpets and the songs of love, a profound silence reigned around. The silent city had changed its inhabitants, and the conquerors slept on the couch of the vanquished. "They sleep now, these proud Spaniards, cried the young Moor in indignation, under those roofs from which they have exiled my ancestors. And I an Abencerrage, watch unknown, solitary, forsaken, at the gate of the palace of my fathers." Aben Hamet then seriously reflected on human destiny, on the vicissitudes of fortune, on the fall of Empires, in fact, on that Grenada, surprised by its enemies in the midst of feasting and joy, and exchanging all at once its garlands of flowers, for the chains of slavery. He dreamt he saw the inhabitants abandoning their homes in their festal garments, like guests who in the disorder of their mirth are suddenly startled from the banquet by a cry of fire. All these images and thoughts forced themselves on the soul of Aben Hamet. Full of grief and regret he became more than ever determined to execute the project which had brought him to Grenada. Day soon surprised him, and the Abencerrage found himself in the scattered suburbs of the town, far from the Khan of the Moors.— The world slept. Not a sound disturbed the silent streets. The doors and windows of the houses were closed. The crow of the cock alone proclaimed, in the habitations of the poor, the return of labour and toil. After having wandered for a long time unable to discover his way, Aben Hamet heard a door open and saw a young girl issue forth into the street. She was habited in the style of those gothic queens, sculptured in the monuments of our ancient abbey. Her black bodice, ornamenUnable to stifle the sentiments which tormented ted with beads of jet, fitted, closely, her elegant his heart, he rose at midnight to wander in the figure. Her short petticoat, narrow and without crooked streets of Grenada. He endeavored with folds, discovered a fine shaped leg and a chat ming han and eye, to recognize some of the monu- foot. A mantilla equally black was drawn over ments so often described to him by the old men her head, and, held by her left hand, crossed and of his tribe. Perhaps yon lofty edifice whose closed under her chin like a nuns hood, so that tian. nought of her face was visible save her large eyes day. The flower he seeks now is the lovely ChrisHow many fruitless efforts has he made to discover the palace of his enchantress? How many times has he endeavored to return by the roads which his divine guide made him traverse? How often, in fancy, has he recognised the sound of that bell, the crow of that cock which he heard Aben Hamet in the first burst of his astonish-near the residence of the fair Senora? How often ment, fancied he saw the angel Israfil or the young-has he rushed, deceived by similar noises, to one est of the Houris. The young Spaniard not less surprised, gazed on the Abencerrage, whose turban, robes, and arms embellished even his noble figure. Recovered from her first start of surprise, she signed to the stranger to approach her, with the grace and freedom peculiar to the women of this country. "Senor Moro," said she to him, "you appear but lately arrived in Grenada. Have you lost your way?" "Sultana of Flowers," answered Aben Hamet, "Delight of mine eyes, O, Christian slave, more beautiful than the virgins of Georgia, thou hast divined it, I am a stranger in this city, lost amidst these palaces, and unable to find the Khan of the Moors. May the Prophet touch thy heart, and recompense thy hospitality!" "The Moors are renowned for their gallantry," replied the fair Spaniard, with the sweetest smile, "but I am neither a slave, nor the Sultana of Flowers, nor yet content to be recommended to Mahomet. Follow me, Senor Cavalier, I will reconduct you to the Khan of the Moors." Walking before the Abencerrage with the graceful elastic step of an Andalusian, she brought him to the Khan of the Moors, shewed it to him, and | with a gesture of salutation passed on and disappeared behind a palace. side or another, yet the magic palace did not offer itself to his longing eyes? How often did the uniform dress of the maidens of Grenada give him an instant of hope? From a distance all the senoras resembled the mistress of his heart-close at hand not one possessed her beauty or her grace. Aben Hamet at last searched even the churches to discover the charming unknown. Nay, he even penetrated to the tomb of Ferdinand and Isabella; But this was till then the greatest sacrifice he had made to his love. One day it happened that he was gathering herbs in the valley of the Darro-on the flowery slope of the hill, to the south, stood the stately walls of the Alhambra and the enchanting gardens of the Generali e. That to the north was decorated by the Albaijyn, by smiling orchards, and the grottos inhabited by a numerous population. At the Western extremity of the valley could be discovered the towers of Grenada which lifted themselves in a group amidst clumps of evergreen oaks and dark cypresses. At the opposite end the eye lighted on jagged rocks, sombre convents and hermitages, some few ruins of ancient Iberia, and in the distance the summits of the Sierra Nevada. At the bottom of the valley flowed the Darro, and along its flowery banks might be seen here and there a few mills, some sparkling cascades, the broken arches of a Roman aqueduct, and the remains of a bridge of the time of the Moors. To what shall be ascribed the repose of life! No longer did his country occupy the sole and entire thoughts of Aben Hamet. Grenada, for him, ceased to be abandoned, widowed, solitary, Aben Hamet was by this time neither sufficiently ―nay, is dearer than ever to his heart,—but there unfortunate, nor yet sufficiently happy. He strol is a new spell which embellishes her ruins. To led with distraction and indifference through these the memory of his ancestors is now added another enchanted plains. Walking at hazard, he followed charm. Aben Hamet had discovered the ceme- an alley lined with graceful trees which wound up tary where the ashes of the Abencerrages repose the hill of the Albaijyns. A country house surin peace, but whilst praying, whilst prostrating rounded with groves of orange trees soon appeared himself in the dust, even whilst shedding filial in sight. On a nearer approach the sounds of tears o'er their graves the thought would recur to a voice, a ccompanied by a guitar, struck his ear. him that perchance the young Spaniard might To a man inflamed by the tender passion of love, sometimes have passed these tombs, and that his there is an intimate harmony between the voice, ancestors were not so unhappy after all. feature, and eyes of the object of his passion. In vain did he strive to occupy himself only" "Tis my hauri!" exclaimed Aben Hamet; and with his pilgrimage to the land of his fathers. In vain did he wander along the fair banks of the Darro and Xenil to gather herbs at the dawn of he listened with a beating heart. At the name of the Abencerrage, repeated several times, his heart beat yet more violently. The unknown song stress sang a Castilian romance which recounted the history of the Abencerrages and Zegris. His emotion was now uncontrollable. Darting across a hedge of myrtles, he sprang into the midst of a bevy of girls who fled on all sides, screaming at this sudden appearance. The senora who was singing, and who still held the guitar, cried out "Tis the Senor Moro," and recalled her companions. "Favorite of the genii," said the Abencerrage, "I have sought thee as an Arab seeks a fountain in the parched south. The sounds of thy guitar reached my ear-you celebrated the heroes of my native land. My soul recognized thee by the beauty of thy voice,—and to thy feet I bring the heart of Aben Hamet." "Is it so," answered Donna Blanca. "It was the thought of thee that caused me to chaunt the romance of the Abencerrage, for since seeing you I have pictured to myself that the Moorish cavaliers must have resembled thee. A light blush tinged the white forehead of Bianca in uttering these words, enhancing her beauty so much that the Moor was about to fling himself at her feet, and disclose to her that he was the last of the Abencerrages. But a feeling of prudence restrained him, for he feared lest his name, too famous in Grenada, might prove a source of inquietude and uneasiness to the governor. The Moorish wars were scarcely terminated, and the presence of an Abencerrage at that moment, might inspire the Spaniards with just cause of alarm. Not that our hero feared any peril, but he trembled at the thought of being obliged to separate himself for ever from the daughter of Don Rodriguez. Donna Bianca was descended from a family which derived its origin from the illustrious Cid de Bivar and Climene, daughter of Count Gomez de Gormaz. The posterity of the conqueror of Valence la Bella had sunk, through the ingratitude of the Court of Castile, into extreme poverty -nay, so great was its obscurity that for many ages it was believed to have become extinct, But, towards the time of the conquest of Grenada, a last shoot of the race of Bivar, the ancestor of Bianca made himself known, less indeed by his titles than by his valor and gallant deeds of arms. After the expulsion of the Infidels, Ferdinand bestowed on the descendent of the Cid the wealth and estates of many Moorish families, and created him Duke de Santa Fe. The new Duke fixed his residence at Grenada, and died yet young, leaving an only son, already married-Don Rodriguez, father of Bianca. Rodriguez gave birth to a son who received at the baptismal font the name of Rodriguez like ail his forefathers, but who was called Don Carlos to distinguish him from his father. The great events which Don Carlos had witnessed from his tenderest years upwards, and the points to which he had been exposed almost from his infancy, had only served to render, more rigid and grave, a character naturally austere. Scarce had he numbered fourteen years when he followed Cortez to Mexico. He had supported all the dangers, had witnessed all the horrors of that astounding adventure, and had assisted as the downfall of the last King of a world until then unknown. Three years after that catastrophe, Don Carlos found himself in Europe at the Pavia, as if it were his fate to see crowned honour and kingly valour succumb to the whims of fortune. The aspect of a new world, long voyages over seas hitherto unknown, the sight of revolutions and the vicissitudes of life and fortune had strongly moved the religious and melancholy imagination of Don Carlos. He entered into the chivalrous order of Calatrava and renouncing marriage, in spite of the urgent entreaties of Don Rodriguez, destined all his wealth for his sister. Bianca de Bivar, the only sister of Don Carlos, and much younger than he, was the idol of her father. Whilst a child, she had lost her mother, and was just entering her eighteenth year when Aben Hamet appeared in Grenada. All was seduction round this enchantress. Her voice was ravishing, her dauce lighter than the zephyr. At times she delighted to drive in her carriage like a second Armida, at times to speed on the back of the swiftest steed of Andalusia, like those charming fairies which appeared to Tristau and Galaor in the forests of old. Athens would have taken her for Aspasia, and Paris for Diana of Poitiers, just then commencing her brilliant career at Court. But, with the charms of a Frenchwoman, she united the passions of a Spaniard, and her natural coquetry detracted nothing from the stability, constancy, strength and elevation of the sentiments of her heart. As the cries which the young girls had uttered when Aben Hamet had darted into the grove. Don Rodriguez hastened to the spot, My father, said Bianca, here is the Senor Moro of whom I spoke to you. He overheard me singing, recognized my voice and entered the garden to thank me for having shewn him his way." The Duke de Santa Fè received the Abencerrage with the grave, yet simple politeness of a Spaniard. Amongst this nation the eye is never offended with any of those servile airs, or the ear Donna Theresa de Xeres, the wife of Don pained by any of those complimentary phrases which announce vulgarity of thoughts and a degraded mind. The language of the noble grandee and the humble peasant is the same. The salutation the same, the compliments, the customs, the habits are all the same. Whilst the confidence and generosity of this people towards strangers is without bounds, so its vengeance when betrayed is prompt and terrible; of heroic courage, of indomitable perseverance, incapable of yielding to misfortunes, they must either conquer or be exterminated. There is but little of what is called wit, but exalted passions hold the place of that esprit which comes from finesse and an abundance of ideas. A Spaniard who passes his days without speaking, who has seen nothing, who never even cares to see anything, who has read nothing, studied nothing, compared nothing, will find in the greatness of his resolves the necessary resources in a time of adversity. THE BONNIE SCOT. The bonnie Scot! he hath nae got An' mony a stormy night; He wadna' tine, for rose or vine, The gowans round his cot; The roarin' din o' flood an' linn He loves the pine aboon his head, The breckans 'neath his feet; A safter, kinder lot; He kens his earth gave Wallace birth, WESLEYANA. DUNMORE CAVE. It was the birth-day of Don Rodriguez, and Donna Bianca, in honour thereof, had invited a few friends to a tertulia in this charming solitude. The Duke de Santa Fe invited Aben Hamet to be seated in the midst of the young girls who amused themselves with the turban and robe of the stranger. Cushions of velvet were brought and the Abencerrage reclined upon them in the Moorish fashion. They put questions to him about his country and his adventures, to which he replied with spirit and gaiety in the purest Castilian. In- from Kilkenny. It is full as remarkable as I went to Dunmore Cave, three or four miles deed so perfect was his accent that he might rea- Poole's-hole, or any other in the Peak. The dily have been mistaken for a Spaniard, had he opening is round, parallel to the horizon, and not always said thou for you. His words, in his seventy or eighty yards across. In the midst mouth, had something about them so much that of this there is a kind of arch, twenty or thirty Bianca could not restrain a secret feeling of dis- feet high. By this you enter into the first pleasure whenever they were addressed to any one diameter. It is encompassed with spar stones, cave, nearly round, and forty or fifty feet in of her companions. just like those on the sides of Poole's-hole. On Numerous servants now made their appearance one side of the cave, is a narrow passage, bringing cakes, fruits, chocolate and small conser-whch goes under the rock two or three hunves of Malaga sugar white as snow and light as dred yards: on the other, a hollow, which a sponge. After the refiesco, the young girls enno one has ever been able to find an end of treated Blanca to execute one of those graceful was formed by the waters of the deluge, suppose the hole too, as well as many others, characteristic dances in which she excelled even retreating into the great abyss, with which, the most skilful Gitana. Aben Hamet was silent, probably, it communicates. but his suppliant looks spoke volumos in place of his tongue. Yielding to the requests of his friends, Blanca chose a Zimbra, an expressive dance which the Spaniards have borrowed from the Moors. (To be continued.) Every Macbeth has witches to prompt him in his iniquity. Wisdom stands between two mirrors; Folly is in a dark room. In girls we love what they are, but in young men what they promise to be. I MUSICAL EXPERIMENT. I thought it would be worth while to make an odd experiment. Remembering how surprisingly fond of music the lion at Edinburgh was, I determined this was the case with all animals of the same kind. I accordingly went to the Tower with one who plays on the flute. He began playing near four or five lions. Only one of these (he rest not seeming to regard it at all) rose up, came to the front of his den, and seemed to be all attention. Meantime a tiger in the same den started up, leaped over the lion's back, turned and ran under his belly, |