one, for instance, still holding the skeletons of two infants in its long arms—while some of the bodies had been preserved, and lay shrivelled, like the mummies reposing in the sepulchral vault of the Great St. Bernard. In the dark history of Philip II. of Spain, one of the darkest passages is that of the rebellion and final destruction of the Moors of Granada. Driven to despair by an intolerable tyranny, the unfortunate people at length rose in arms against their oppressors; but all their bravery, aided by the natural strength of their mountain fastnesses, failed to defend them against the superior arms of their pitiless enemy. Defeated in every encounter, driven from every stronghold, thousands perished by famine or the sword, and those who submitted were either condemned to a cruel death or exiled from their native soil. Many were driven to seek a refuge in the caves of the Alpujarras, south-east of Granada, and of the bold sierras that stretch along the southern shores of Spain. Their pursuers followed up the chase with the fierce glee of the hunter tracking the wild beast of the forest to his lair. There they were huddled together, one or two hundred frequently in the same cavern. It was not easy to detect the hiding-place amidst the rocks and thickets which covered up and concealed the entrance. But when it was detected, it was no difficult matter to destroy the inmates. The green bushes furnished the material for a smouldering fire, and those within were soon suffocated by the smoke, or, rushing out, threw themselves on the mercy of their pursuers. Some were butchered on the spot; others were sent to the gibbet or the galleys; while the greater part, with a fate scarcely less terrible, were given up as the booty of the soldiers, and sold into slavery. Aben Aboo, the last chief of the insurgents, who had hitherto eluded every attempt to seize him, but whose capture was of more importance than that of any other of his nation, had a narrow escape in one of these caverns not far from Berchal, where he lay hid with a wife and two of his daughters. The women were suffocated, with about seventy other persons; but the Morisco chief succeeded in making his escape through an aperture at the further end, which was unknown to his enemies.