of vengeance; it demanded the preservation of mementos by which he might recall with ferocious pleasure the fate of a hated and formidable enemy. The skulls of such as had perished in rebellion or by the sword of the executioner, as well as of those of hostile officers who had fallen in battle, were all preserved. The garden of his palace was lined with rows of these melancholy and suggestive trophies, in which he caused to be planted flowers of brilliant colors and delightful fragrance. Each skull was polished to a snowy whiteness, and bore upon a label the name and the offence of its former owner. In a casket among his treasures were preserved similar memorials of the princes who had succumbed to the superior fortune of his arms. These were adorned with a splendor which attested the value attached to them by their possessor as evidences of victory. They were set in gold; in the sockets, once brightened with the flashing of the human eye, the cold glitter of the diamond arrested the glance of the horrified observer; and around the temples was inserted a row of precious stones of various colors,--sapphires, rubies, hyacinths, and emeralds. These souvenirs of blood and cruelty always imparted fresh inspiration to the mind of Motadhid, and the most joyous as well as the most pathetic of his verses were composed while in their contemplation. The agents and spies of Motadhid were to be found in every country and in every court. Nowhere was even the fugitive who had incurred the enmity of the tyrant safe from his vengeance. In Seville lived a blind citizen of great wealth. His possessions provoked the avarice of the prince, and he unceremoniously appropriated the greater portion of them. The victim having lost the remainder, and being reduced to penury, travelled, dependent upon charity, as a pilgrim to Mecca. To all who would listen, he told the story of his wrongs, and declaimed against the injustice of the ruler of Seville both in the Mosque and in the public places of the Holy City. In the course of time his denunciations were reported to Motadhid. The latter caused to be prepared a bronze casket, in which were placed a number of pieces of gold that had been covered with a deadly volatile poison. As the pilgrims were leaving to join the annual caravan to Mecca, Motadhid caused one of them, in whom he could confide, to be brought before him, and gave him the casket. “When thou hast entered the Holy City,” said he, “seek out the person whose name is inscribed hereon, and present this to him with my compliments. But be sure not to open the casket or evil will befall thee.” On his arrival the messenger had little difficulty in finding the blind beggar, who was accustomed each day, before the Great Mosque, to revile the name and recount the crimes of his oppressor. “Friend,” said the Andalusian, “behold a gift which our Lord the Prince of Seville hath charged me to deliver to you. Receive it with joy, for methinks it is of great value.”