ernor-general and the governor of Kiágnan prepared a memorial and presented it to the throne, requesting the emperor to advance money from the national treasury to make repairs. The work was commenced on the sixth day of the second month in the seventh year of Kiáking (a. D. 1801). On the second day of the sixth month the whole was completed and the pagoda, was as beautiful as if it had been entirely rebuilt.

THE ALHAMBRA

ALBERT F. CALVERT

HE Alhambra hill, aptly compared by Ford in shape

THE

to a grand piano, is about 2,690 feet long by 730 broad. It is completely encircled by walls, which closely follow its outline, and is the site, not of one palace, as many travellers seem to expect, but of three-the Moorish Palace, the Emperor's Palace, and the Alcazaba. Around these buildings is grouped what may be considered a fairsized village, wherein if you wish to live at the very doors of the palaces you may obtain comfortable quarters.

The chronological order should be followed wherever possible when visiting a city's monuments. Once arrived, therefore, at the Alhambra, restrain your curiosity, shut your eyes when passing the Flemish Cæsar's folly, and visit first the Alcazaba or citadel-to your left on entering by the Gate of Justice. This ruinous but yet massive pile occupies the western extremity of the hill, and is separated from the body of the place by a high, frowning wall. Surrounded by thick walls crowning the crest of the declivity and flanked by stout square towers, this would even now prove no mean fortress if put into a state of repair. The three most noticeable towers are the Torres del Homenage, de las Armas and de la Vela. The first, which looks

towards the Moorish Palace, is highly picturesque, but, like much else that is picturesque, in ruinous condition. The Torre de las Armas is better preserved. It looks down on the River Darro, which was at this point spanned by a bridge, the Kantara Al Kadi. Thence a road or path led up to the beautiful horseshoe arch in the tower, now called the Puerta del Bosque, which was then the principal entrance to the fortress. We turn towards the Torre de la Vela, the old Watch Tower. It is inhabited, like nearly all the towers, but the public have the right of entry, and you may climb up the awkward flights of stairs to the very platform where (as an inscription relates) the silver cross was planted by the magnificent Cardinal Mendoza on the memorable morning of January 2, 1492. You will not fail to notice the famous bell (cast in 1773) which on the anniversary of the reconquest is struck with all their strength by damsels desirous of obtaining husbands. The bell can be heard, it is said, at Loja, thirty miles away. The view from this platform is very fine, though not as extensive as that from the belvedere of the Generalife. In summer the prospect is a study in dazzling white and gold. The eye rests lovingly on the white streaks on the Sierra, the only suggestion of coolness anywhere in view. Below, Granada spreads itself and basks in the hot rays. It is the city of the sun, and seeks not to screen itself from his favours by foliage and plantations such as those which embower Italian cities.

This Moslem fortress could accommodate a garrison of