of his city; and it was from this spot, too, that Columbus was dispatched on his mission of discovering a new world.  The rich and fertile Vega, as we rode with the speed of the wind over it, seemed to me like a fairy land—­so luxuriant the vegetation—­so rich the meadows and fields of waving grain—­so exquisite the variety of cottages, and villages, and groves, dotting so vast a plain—­so pure and transparent the atmosphere, that the most distant objects are as clearly defined as those nearest us.  Imagine so lovely a landscape—­thirty miles in length by twenty-five in width, surrounded by tremendous mountains,—­those of the Sierra Nevada, rising back of Grenada to the height of thirteen thousand feet above the level of the sea, their summits covered by a dazzling mantle of snow:  imagine this, and you will have some faint idea of this beautiful Eden of Spain.  It is worth a long pilgrimage to gaze but for one moment upon it, particularly from the Torre de la Vela of the Alhambra, whence I have beheld it, both in the bright, gay sunshine, and through the solemnly beautiful night, illumined by the stars and moon.

The walks and gardens of Grenada are exceedingly beautiful.  The principal promenade is called (and very appropriately) El Salon.  It is of considerable extent—­about eighty feet in width, with regular lines of lofty elms on either side, the bending branches of which nearly meet in an arch overhead.  At both extremities of this charming avenue is a large and handsome fountain of ever-flowing water.  The ground of the walk is hard—­slightly curved; and as smooth and clean as the floor of a ball-room, where convenient seats of stone, tastefully arranged beneath the shade of the spreading trees, seem to invite one to meditation and repose.  Outside of this lovely promenade, are blooming gardens, teeming with roses and other flowers, which fill the air with fragrance, while through them on one side runs the river Darre, and on the other the Xenie—­gentle streams, whose waters unite their melodious rippling to the chorus of nightingales, ever singing above their pleasant banks.  But description is tiresome, especially when one is attempting to present something beyond his power, so I shall not fatigue you with it any longer:  besides, a worthy English curate, now my only companion in this wretched hotel, is boring me so incessantly with conversation that I find it difficult to collect any thoughts to put on paper.  I wish he was already in heaven, as, surely, he well deserves to be.

It was my intention to have gone from this place to Almeria on horseback, but as R. has left for Madrid, I shall return to Malaga, probably, in the diligence to-night.  It leaves at 12 o’clock, under an escort of six cavalry, which on this road is indispensably necessary.  From Malaga I shall take steamer for Valencia and Barcelona, and according to my present calculations, will reach Paris about the first of June next.  F——­ wants me to go to Italy—­I do not know exactly what course to take, as traveling in Italy during the summer season is not considered healthy.  I should like to remain in France a month or so, in order to improve myself in their language:  as for Spanish, I speak it with fluency and ease already, and it is certainly one of the most beautiful languages in the world.