d farther away the effigies of his famous companions-in-arms,
and on the walls above their heraldic blazons and his. The church
Was unfinished when the Great Captain died in the displeasure of his
ungrateful king, and its sumptuous completion testifies to the devotion
of his wife and her taste in choosing the best artists for the work.

I have still the sense of a noonday quiet that lingered with us after we
left this church and which seemed to go with us to the Hospital of St.
John of God, founded, with other hospitals, by the pious Portuguese,
who, after a life of good works, took this name on his well-merited
canonization. The hospital is the monument of his devotion to good
works, and is full of every manner of religious curio. I cannot remember
to have seen so many relics under one roof, bones of both holy men and
women, with idols of the heathen brought from Portuguese possessions in
the East which are now faded from the map, as well as the body of St.
John of God shrined in silver in the midst of all.

[Illustration: 29 LOOKING NORTHWEST FROM THE GENERALIFE OVER GRANADA]

I do not know why I should have brought away from these two places a
peacefulness of mind such as seldom follows a visit to show-places, but
the fact is so; perhaps it was because we drove to and from them, and
were not so tired as footworn sight-seers are, or so rebellious. One
who had seen not only the body of St. John of God, but his cane with
a whistle in it to warn the charitable of his coming and attune their
minds to alms-giving, and the straw basket in which he collected food
for the poor, now preserved under an embroidered satin covering, and an
autograph letter of his framed in glass and silver, might even have been
refreshed by his experience. At any rate, we were so far from tired
that after luncheon we walked to the Garden of the Generalife, and then
walked all over it. The afternoon was of the very mood for such a visit,
and we passed it there in these walks and bowers, and the black cypress
aisles, and the trees and vines yellowing to the fall of their leaves.
The melancholy laugh of water chasing down the steep channels and
gurgling through the stone rails of stairways was everywhere, and its
dim smile gleamed from pools and tanks. In the court where it stretched
in a long basin an English girl was painting and another girl was
sewing, to whom I now tardily offer my thanks for adding to the charm of
the place. Not many other peo