_ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE._ WANDERINGS IN THE PENINSULA. GRENADA, May 18, 1850. MY DEAR FRIEND--It affords me much pleasure to write you from the midst of the terrestrial paradise into which my romantic wanderings have at length brought me. Almost every one who sets out from home with the object of travel, looks forward to some one or two spots, which, in the light of imagination, glitter like stars in the bright prospective. To me, the two cities which most aroused my curiosity and pleased my fancy, were first, Grenada, in which I now am, and Venice, to which I still look forward with a brighter hope, gilded with the rays of memory, and clustering with the rosebuds of coming days. In Grenada, my expectations, sanguine as they were, have been more than realized. It is the nearest approach to paradise that I have yet seen: a spot that cannot disappoint any one, as the best part of its beauty, like that of a beautiful woman, is of a nature, that not even genius itself can describe. I visit the "Alhambra" daily, and write a letter within its sacred precincts. Externally the "Alhambra" has a severe and forbidding appearance, like that of an ancient fortress, but within, it exceeds in beauty all one's preconceptions, however warm and extravagant they may be. The terrace which conducts to it, after having passed through the huge gate which opens into its jurisdiction, is embowered with tall, straight, and overhanging elms, nicely trimmed and of the richest foliage, while here and there a fountain marks the bends in the road. Along this enchanting walk marble seats are arranged, where one can repose for a moment to listen to the notes of the nightingales in the adjacent groves, and charm his fancy with the melodious rippling of water at his feet. If one has any feeling in his soul, in such a spot as this he is sure to find it. If he has a woman with him he is certain to fall in love, and if he has not, he may perhaps fall--_asleep_!