From whatever point Granada may be contemplated, it is a sumptuous city; whether viewed from the plain, or from any of the neighbouring heights: even in walking the streets, vistas of astonishing beauty are occasionally discovered; and from the windows of my apartment in the Fonda del Comercio, I have never seen any thing more gorgeous than sunset upon the city of Granada; nor any thing more beautiful than the moonlight falling upon its gardens, and groves, and convents, and towers, and neighbouring heights, and snow-clad mountains. The first morning after my arrival, I hastened to the Alhambra. I entered its precincts by the gate of Granada, and found myself in a shrubbery, shewing many marks of the unpardonable neglect with which all the magnificent monuments in Spain are treated, by those who preside over the destinies of that ill-governed country. I was first conducted to the Xeneralife, once the residence of Boabdil el Chico, the last of the Moorish kings. This building stands upon an elevation considerably higher than the Alhambra, and separated from it by a deep ravine. Some modern additions have been made to the Xeneralife; but these may easily be distinguished from the Moorish part of the building. In the palace of Boabdil, there is nothing particularly worthy of observation; but the myrtle groves and terraces are agreeable; and from the latter, there is a charming view over the Alhambra and its gardens. The Xeneralife, which in the Arabic signifies a pleasure house, is said to have been built by Omar, who, in that delightful seclusion, gave himself entirely up to the enjoyment of music. The inscriptions on every part of the Alhambra, interpret the uses of the different buildings and chambers. These have all been copied and translated,--and, although a record of them would be tedious, I may perhaps be permitted to introduce two or three of the most interesting, as curious relics of Moorish customs. There is only one connected with the Xeneralife, which appears worthy of recording. It is on the arcades around a court. “Charming palace! splendid art thou, and great as thou art splendid! all is bright around thee. Worthy art thou to be praised, for divinity is in all thy charms: flowers adorn thy garden; they nod upon their stalks, and fill the air with their sweet perfume. A breeze plays with the blossoms of the orange tree, and their delightful fragrance is wafted around. Hark! voluptuous music mingles with the gentle rustling of the leaves,--sweet harmony! and verdure and flowers encompass me. Thou, oh Abulgali! most excellent of kings; guardian of the faithful, and of the law,--thou art the object of my reverence. May God be ever with thee, and may he crown thy hopes! Thy greatness throwest dignity on all that thou doest. This apartment, dedicated to thee, is full of perfection and strength,--its duration will be coeval with our faith,--it is a wonder and a triumph.”