autiful little castellum which crowns its termination. Even
where Roman buildings have been destroyed we still see around us the
stones with ancient and classic inscriptions built into new walls. The
plough, too, of the husbandman still at times turns up the coins of
Sertorius, bearing a profile showing the wound he had received in his
eye, while the reverse represents his favorite hind leaning against a
tree."

"How completely do these things carry us back to ancient times, and
make even Plutarch's novels seem verities of real life," said Lady
Mabel. "These same Romans, whom we read of and wonder at, have indeed
left behind them, wherever they came, foot-prints indelibly stamped on
the face of the country."

"They did more," said L'Isle, "wherever civilization extends, they
still set their marks upon the minds of men."

"How barbarous seem the Moorish buildings, which we still see here and
at Elvas," said Lady Mabel, "compared with these monuments of a yet
earlier day."

"The Moors had a style of their own," said L'Isle. "Indifferent to
external decoration, they reserved all their ingenuity for the
interior of their edifices. Stimulated by a sensuous religion and a
luxurious climate, they there lavished whatever was calculated to
delight the senses, and accord with a sedentary and voluptuous life.
They sought a shady privacy amidst sparkling fountains, artificial
breezes, and sweet smelling plants; amidst brilliant colors and a
profusion of ornaments, seen by a light sobered from the glare of a
southern sun. Numberless were the luxurious palaces the Moors reared
in Portugal and Spain. The Alhambra yet stands a model of their
excellence in the arts; although many of its glories have departed,
its walls have become desolate, and many of them fallen into ruin,
though its gardens have been destroyed, and its fountains ceased to
play. Charles V. commenced a palace within the enclosure of the
Alhambra, in rivalry of what he found there. It stands but an arrogant
intrusion, and is already in a state of dilapidation far beyond the
work of the Arabs. In them the walls remain unaltered, except by
injuries inflicted by the hand of man. The colors of the painting, in
which there is no mixture of oil, preserve all their brightness--the
beams and wood work of the ceilings show no signs of decay. The art of
rendering timber and paints durable, and of making porcelain mosaics,
arabesques, and other ornaments, began and ended in w