the army. Surrounded by the archpriests of that mighty hierarchy, the peers and princes of a court that rivalled the Rolands of Charlemagne, was seen the kingly form of Ferdinand himself, with Isabel at his right hand, and the high-born dames of Spain; relieving with their gay colours and sparkling gems, the sterner splendour of the crested helmet and polished mail.

Within sight of the royal group, Boabdil halted,-composed his aspect so as best to conceal his soul,—and, a little in advance of his scanty train, but never in mien and majesty more a king, the son of Abdallah met his haughty

conqueror.

At the sight of his princely countenance and golden hair, his comely and commanding beauty, made more touching by youth, a thrill of compassionate admiration ran through that assembly of the brave and fair. Ferdinand and Isabel slowly advanced to meet their late rival-their new subject; and, as Boabdil would have dismounted, the Spanish king placed his hand upon his shoulder. Brother and prince,' said he, 'forget thy sorrows; and may our friendship hereafter console thee for reverses, against which thou hast contended as a hero and a king-resisting man, but resigned at length to God!'

Boabdil did not affect to return this bitter, but unintentional, mockery of compliment. He bowed his head, and remained a moment silent; then motioning to his train, four of his officers approached, and kneeling beside Ferdinand, proffered to him, upon a silver buckler, the keys of the city.

'O king!' then said Boabdil, accept the keys of the last hold which has resisted the arms of Spain! The empire of the Moslem is no more. Thine are the city and the people of Granada: yielding to thy prowess, they yet confide in thy mercy.'

They do well,' said the king; 'our promises shall not be broken. But,

since we know the gallantry of Moorish cavaliers, not to us, but to gentler hands, shall the keys of Granada be surrendered.'

Thus saying, Ferdinand gave the keys to Isabel, who would have addressed some soothing flatteries to Boabdil; but the emotion and excitement were too much for her compassionate heart, heroine and queen though she was; and, when she lifted her eyes upon the calm and pale features of the fallen monarch, the tears gushed from them irresistibly, and her voice died in murmurs. A faint flush overspread the features of Boabdil, and there was a momentary pause of enarrassment, which the Moor was the first to break.

'Fair queen,' said he, with mournful and pathetic dignity, thou canst read the heart that thy generous sympathy touches and subdues: this is thy last, nor least, glorious conquest. But I detain ye; let not my aspect cloud your triumph. Suffer me to say farewell.'

'May we not hint at the blessed possibility of conversion?' whispered the pious queen, through her tears, to her royal consort.

'Not now-not now, by Saint Iago!' returned Ferdinand, quickly, and in the same tone, willing himself to conclude a painful conference. He then added, aloud, Go, my brother, and fair fortune with you! Forget the past.'

Boabdil smiled bitterly, saluted the royal pair with profound and silent reverence, and rode slowly on, leaving the army below, as he ascended the path that led to his new principality beyond the Alpuxarras. As the trees snatched the Moorish cavalcade from the view of the king, Ferdinand ordered the army to recommence its march; and trumpet and cymbal presently sent their music to the ear of the Moslems.

Boabdil spurred on at full speed, till his panting charger halted at the little village where his mother, his slaves, and his faithful Amine (sent on before),

awaited him. Joining these, he proceeded without delay upon his melancholy path.

They ascended that eminence which is the pass into the Alpuxarras. From its height, the vale, the rivers, the spires, the towers of Granada, broke gloriously upon the view of the little band. They halted, mechanically and abruptly; every eye was turned to the beloved scene. The proud shame of baffled warriors, the tender memories of home -of childhood-of fatherland, swelled

every heart, and gushed from every eye. Suddenly, the distant boom of artillery broke from the citadel, and rolled along the sunlit valley and crystal river. An universal wail burst from the exiles! it smote-it overpowered the heart of the ill-starred king, in vain seeking to wrap himself in Eastern pride or stoical philosophy. The tears gushed from his eyes, and he covered his face with his hands."

So fell Granada, and with it the Moorish dominion in Spain.

A VISION

SION

T may be questioned if, in the whole range of biographical record, a life could be found in

every respect so extraordinary, and so full of material of romance, as the record of the brief earthly career and untimely end of the young Scotchman, James Crichton, who, by the universal voice of the most illustrious of his contemporaries, was denominated "The Admirable," an epithet of which posterity has almost unanimously recognised the justice and propriety. His was indeed a strange story-one we might almost deem miraculous and unworthy of credit, were it not that we possess a mass of evidence, clear, decisive, and urimpeachable, in support of the main incidents, at least, and such as leaves no doubt of the substantial truth of the history we are about to relate.

Born on the 19th August, 1560, he was intimately connected by birth with the highest circles of the Scottish aristo

cracy, and he could even trace a clear connection between his family and both the royal houses of the island. His father held the important and responsible office of Lord Advocate for the king's interest, whilst his mother, Elizabeth Stewart, was related to the Stewarts of Beath, and the Lindsays of Byres, both families of long standing; and the scions of which had on various occasions in Scottish history highly distinguished themselves.

There is some doubt as to where James Crichton received his early training, and the authorities on this point are divided between Perth and Edinburgh; but be this as it may, we know that at the early age of ten years he matriculated at the college of St. SalvatorSt. Andrew's University, which was then the most celebrated, as well as the most ancient of the Scottish halls of learning. Here he took, in speedy succession, the degrees of Bachelor and Master of Arts, attaining the second of these distinctions when little more than fourteen years of age; and not only this, but he reached the proud position of third scholar in the university, and that,

too, in what, to use academical phraseology, was a “most distinguished year."

Sensible, however, that he had only laid the merest foundation-that as yet it was but the rudiments of a true scholarship with which he was quainted, he applied himself for the next three years to branches of knowledge which, many have thought, require minds of the most opposite character, and an entirely different course of culture properly to pursue. In each and all of them, however, he seemed thoroughly at home; his occupations, while thus (like the hero of Locksly Hall)

"Nourishing a youth sublime

With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of time,"

are described in the following manner by a contemporary writer, author of a short biography of Crichton: "He confined himself to no single study, but ranged alike through all the sciences; and as he was a youth of universal erudition, and superior talents and memory, he at one time exercised himself in political, at another in rhetorical studies; then again he would devote himself to philosophical, and after this to theological subjects, and this too with such success that he was accounted most deeply versed in every kind of science."

But Crichton aspired not only to be the erudite scholar, but also to be the accomplished courtier and the ready man of the world. He applied himself, therefore, with great vigour to the cultivation of subjects very different indeed from these, the names of which we have just narrated. He made himself, therefore, as was then indispensably necessary, by diligent practice, a finished fencer, and a most accomplished horseman. Nor did he despise dancing-an art in which he so far advanced, that the grace and elegance of his movements excited the admiration and envy of the most

brilliant gallants of the Court. He sang in such a ravishing manner, and played upon all manner of instruments so admirably, that one would have thought Nature had given him a peculiar musical genius. In short, to whatever branch of learning he applied himself, in that he was within an incredibly short space of time profoundly versed, and it seemed that that knowledge of men and cities which is acquired by travelling, was all that was needed, at once to complete the circle of his knowledge, and to spread abroad his fame through the whole of Europe.

He had accordingly, for some time, determined to visit France and Italy, then the principal countries of the continent, and his journey was hastened by a domestic disagreement, arising from the fact that his father had adopted the Reformed Faith, whilst he still continued, and remained to the end of his life, a steadfast adherent of the Church of Rome. Crichton therefore set out for Paris, where he had no sooner arrived than he affixed to the gate of the College of Navarre his thesis, and, after the manner of travelling scholars in these times, engaged to defend it to the utmost of his power against all comers, and exclaiming, like the scholastic in "The Golden Legend"

"There, that is my gauntlet, my banner, my shield
Hung up as a challenge to all the field.
One hundred and twenty-five propositions
Which I will maintain with the sword of the tongue
Against all disputants, old and young.
Let us see if Doctors or Dialecticians
Will dare to dispute my definitions
Or attack any one of my learned theses.
Here stand I, the end shall be as God pleases."

It was generally supposed that Crichton would, under some pretence or other, decline the combat, although it had been of his own choosing; but, true to his word, at the appointed time, he, "in presence of an immense concourse of spectators, presented himself in this eminent seminary, encountered in argu

ment the gravest philosophers and divines, who had assembled on the occasion, acquitted himself to the astonishment of all who heard him, and received the public congratulations of the president and four of the most eminent professors in the university, and what seemed particularly to increase his triumph, and to embitter the defeat of those who attempted to cope with him, was the easy negligence, and the apparent contempt of preparation, which he evinced before the contest." Owing to his conduct on this occasion, and perhaps also in a no less degree to the manner in which he acquitted himself at a tilting match, held the next day at the Louvre, and in which he was no less successful than in the strife of words, he soon became well known through the French capital, and at the brilliant court of Henry III., and there, still appearing pre-eminent in the most various and opposite accomplishments, the prefix of "Admirable" was attached to his name, and ever since the title has remained. Actuated by a certain sort of restlessness, which seems to have been inherent in his disposition, he enlisted as a foot soldier in the French monarch's army, where he served for two years, after which he proceeded to Venice, where Aldus Manutius, the celebrated printer and scholar, to whom he had written some Latin verses of considerable merit, introduced him to to the most learned men of the city, by whom, at first, he seems to have been received rather suspiciously, owing, perhaps, to the extravagant praise with which his friend the printer thought it necessary to herald his advent; but he soon showed by his disputations with them, and by an address delivered before the Doge and Senate, that he was not unworthy of his high reputation.

The fame which he now acquired might well have satisfied him; but he still seemed desirous of further combats, and accordingly he soon resumed his

travels, directing his course to Padua, where the university, as was natural, first attracted his attention; and here he was more than ordinarily successful. Nor when, a short time afterwards, at the court of Mantua, whither he had turned his steps, did he prosper less in a combat of a far different kind; for here we find him engaging in single combat with a notorious bully-one of those individuals who kept up their reputation, such as it was, by the occasional slaughter of some unfortunate person with whom they had managed to pick a quarrel; in which, from their skill in the use of the sword, they were almost invariably successful. own day the ubiquitous American "Colonel" seems to have revived, with some peculiar Yankee improvements, this type of humanity. On this occasion, however, Crichton was victorious, having, after a severe combat, witnessed by the Duke of Mantua, his whole court, and "an immense concourse of spectators," slain his foe by a mortal thrust. This encounter seems to have gained for the young Scotchman even more renown than the quieter, if perhaps not less bitter combats, in which he had before been engaged. It specially attracted the notice of the duke, who appointed him tutor to his son Vincenzo di Gonzaga, a youth of a most dissolute. mode of life. The post was welcome to Crichton, since it was one of trust about the court; whilst the emoluments were by no means inconsiderable, and he therefore thankfully accepted it.

It was, however, the cause of his death. The young prince soon conceived a hatred to him; and, not daring to encounter him openly, he took the cowardly course of attacking him with a company of hired assassins, one night when he was walking through the streets alone, playing on a guitar.

Crichton soon put to flight the wretches, but their leader he had seized, unmasked, and found to be his pupil.