A paved walk, guarded on each side by majestic cypress trees, winding its course along terraced gardens and near refreshing fountains, leads up to the lofty eminence on which stands the only synagogue of Cordova. Almost breathless we reach the height. We express our surprise that the Synagogue, visited twice daily, and thrice on the Sabbath day, should have been located so inconveniently, to which our distinguished friend Dunash ben Labrat replies: "Such is the custom in Israel, both Solomon[7] and Ezra[8] have established the custom of building the Synagogue on a lofty eminence, and the Talmud teaches: "The city whose houses are higher than its houses of worship will be destroyed."[9] [7] Proverbs, i:21. [8] Ezra, ix:9. [9] Talmud Babli Sabbath, 11 a. Before entering, we pause awhile to cast our eyes about us. Were we standing on Mount Moriah, of deathless memory, with the gorgeous temple of Solomon before us, and with the sacred scenery of Jerusalem and her environments about us, even such scenes could not have awed us more than those which fascinate our heart and mind on the temple-mount of Cordova, the brightest gem in the proud diadem of fair Andalusia. At the foot of the mount glides the silvery Guadalquivir. The blushing sun is sinking behind the azure hills, and houses and synagogues and foliage and fountain and river, all are crimson tinted, while the fleecy cloudlets, that float in his radiant tracks, are resplendent with colors of purple and violet and gold and red. The evening star sparkles in the rosy sky so benignly, as if it were the eye of God, pleased at seeing His "chosen people" hasten to prostrate themselves before His footstool. The golden glimmering vapors, that rise from beneath the illumined horizon into infinite space, seem to vault over the Synagogue, as if bestowing celestial Sabbath blessing over its worshipers. All nature around us inspires to worship. The nightingales have begun their evening hymns, and the air is loud with the soft melting notes of the skylarks, who sing their sweet "Good Night" to the sunken sun. Our soul, too, is filled with a yearning to commune with God, and so we turn toward the synagogue. Like the mezquita (mosque) its exterior facade is plain and unnoteworthy. We enter the high and spacious vestibule, and our eye is dazzled with all the magnificence, with the harmonious blending of colors, with the costly, but chaste ornamentations. The cupola above admits a free circulation of air, bringing the sweet fragrance of the surrounding gardens. On the one side is heard the refreshing sound of the flowing waters within the reservoirs for ablution, and on the other side the soft splash from the fountain jets in the garden.