[Illustration: THE OLD CHURCH OF EL CARMEN, GUATEMALA CITY.] From the church of El Carmen, situated on an eminence in the northeastern part of the city, a fine view is obtained of the city and valley. This church is made picturesque by the outcroppings of quartz and the oriental appearance of the building. It is more like a small fortress, with its little round tower, and the gray stone moss-grown wall surrounding the hill, than a religious edifice. It is older than the city, and in the bell tower is a bell dated 1748, more than a quarter of a century before the founding of the capital at this location. The interior is dark and gloomy and its walls are hung with examples of crude art. Behind the church the plain stretches away to the purple hills. In front and nestling at the foot of the hill is the capital. The city is compactly built, about two miles square, with peaked and flat roofs covered with brown tiles, and walls variously coloured, but rather dirty. The only contrast to the rather dull colour is the vivid green foliage in the open courts of the houses. Because the houses are nearly all one-storied, the twenty or more churches appear unusually lofty and imposing. In particular, the grand old Cathedral in the centre of the city overtowers every other structure in its majesty. In another direction, on the opposite side of the city, the walls and towers of the Castillo de San Jose stand out against the background of hills and give a semblance of military strength to the otherwise peaceful appearance of the valley. Guatemala City is nearly five thousand feet above the level of the rolling seas and enjoys a wholesome and salubrious climate. Of this too much cannot be said, for it is truly delightful. With an average temperature of seventy-two degrees it has no extremes of heat and cold, and the thermometer seldom varies more than twenty to twenty-five degrees during the entire year. In the so-called winter season the mercury rarely goes below sixty-five degrees and the summer heat does not usually exceed eighty-five degrees. Foreigners who live there and travellers who visit there fall in love with the climate, and, when once acclimated, do not want to leave. Seventy-five thousand or more people, Spaniards, Indians and Ladinos, with a sprinkling of Germans and Americans, are trying to solve the problem of life and existence under such favourable skies; and it is no wonder that the strenuous life of our American cities has few disciples in this favoured valley. Life runs along a smooth, easy pathway, with nothing to rush you, and it is equally as impossible to hurry any one else. A newly arrived American may start out with an impulsive eagerness to do something, but, after a few futile attempts to hasten results, will soon yield to the inevitable trend of delay in this land of “to-morrow” and “wait-a-while.” [Illustration: THE CATHEDRAL, GUATEMALA CITY.]