was pre-eminently the Moorish quarter, communicated with those of the Vega and the Alpujarras, who in their turn sent to solicit assistance from the Moslem princes of Africa. They elected as their king a descendant of Aben Humeya, one of the grandsons of Mahomet, under the title of Mahomet Aben Humeya, King of Granada and Córdova. This revolt led to the war of Granada against the Moors, the last struggle made by the Moslems against the Spanish power. This insurrection having been quelled, the greater part of the Moors quitted the country, while those who remained, cruelly persecuted by the Inquisition, at length conformed, outwardly at least, to the Christian religion. It is said, however, that to this day the Moors of the Albaycin secretly practise Mahometan rites.

Some of those Moorish families who left Spain, and sought a refuge in the Moslem states of Africa, took with them the title-deeds of their estates, and sometimes even the keys of their houses, which, carefully preserved by their descendants, are in existence at the present day. They even now lament their expulsion from that earthly paradise, Granada, which they say is situated immediately beneath the celestial one; and the more sanguine of them look forward to the decline of the Spanish kingdom, and their own restoration to what they consider their rightful country.

The Moors have exercised an immense influence over Europe, and one perhaps not sufficiently recognized. Alternately conquerors, possessors, and exiles, driven, after a sovereignty of centuries, from their last stronghold by the race they had subjugated and governed, it seems as if their fate had been to introduce civilization and refinement, and as soon as that destiny was accomplished, and these were firmly rooted, to perish as a nation from the face of the earth.

A PEEP AT HELGOLAND IN 1866.

'Grün ist der Rand,

Roth ist die Wand,

Weiss ist der Sand,

Das sind die Farben von Helgoland.'

'WHERE shall we go?' was the inquiry exchanged round our German breakfast-table one morning. August, with its burning sun and languid heat, was making some change imperative. Karlsbad had been decided on, but Bismark and the Emperor of Austria had deprived peace-loving people of the pleasures of Karlsbad for the time; and so, after many debates, Helgoland was agreed on.

The evening of the 10th of August found us at Hamburg, en route for the tiny little speck of British territory; and the following morning, at seven, two cumbrous old Hamburger droschken took us to the

'Landungsbrücke für Dampfschiffe am Hamburger Hafen,' a picturesque old bridge of pile-work. The steam was already up; and we were soon settled on deck of the 'Helgoland,' looking down on the busy Altona basin, covered with vessels of all dimensions, bearing the flags of every nation, and carrying the produce of all quarters of the globe-some battered and repaired, telling of battles fought and won, with the raging wind and waters; others trim and new.

"The muddy Elbe,' as it is generally named, calls forth ideas of traffic rather than suggestions of beauty, but the banks below Hamburg are very pretty. The left-wild and weird-looking, with its sedge-covered border, on which some solitary-looking storks were roaming about in search of food, while an isolated tree or wind-mill looms phantom-like in the background. The right-bright and sunny-looking, with its sloping ground covered with beautiful oak and beech trees, amid which peeps forth the handsome villa of many a rich Hamburg merchant; and close down to the shore, one sees every now and then the neat small house of an old pilot, whose chief pastime is to stand with pipe in mouth, watching and criticizing the passing vessels. The day was beautiful, and all went merry as a marriage bell, until we reached Schaarhorn, about one o'clock. Here the division of the brown waters of the Elbe and the green waters of the North Sea is sharply defined, and one sees die weissen Brandungen laufen. Now begin the miseries of seekrankheit ; and when, soon after, Cuxhaven is reached, things have attained their climax. We were supposed to have a splendid passage; the preceding week everyone had been obliged to go down in the cabins, the sea making a clean sweep' over everything.

Between four and five p. m. land was to be seen, and by degrees we saw the little islet rising amid the vast waste of waters; the steamer soon steered between the island and the Düne, the anchor dropped down into the foam-crested waves of the green North Sea, and the firing of a cannon from the mainland welcomed us to Helgoland. A swarm of small boats, like so many nut-shells on the water, were waiting to convey the passengers to land. The cool imperturbable character of the Helgolanders may be seen at the very onset of one's arrival among them. There they sit, resting on their oars, with immovable forms and features, while all is bustle and confusion around them. Sometimes one is sufficiently roused to lend a helping hand to a passenger who would get into his boat-no easy task, tossing up and down, and slipping from underneath the foot at the very moment when one would step in. Half way between the anchorage and the island the passage money is collected, which is twelve Hamburger shillings: there are forty-eight to a thaler, or three English shillings. Hamburger money is current in the island.

The poor wretched invalids, who expect to land among a few quiet pilots and fishermen, are now cruelly awakened from this delusion. Before the foremost boat touches the shore, gay strains from the Bademusick are heard, and the beach is crowded with fashionably

dressed Badsgäste, and the Lästerallee has to be passed. This well named quizzing alley is a narrow passage over planks, with ropes serving as barriers on each side; and it is no small ordeal for poor tottering creatures, scarcely able to stand, with blanched faces and disordered dresses, to endure the quizzing and the kind greetings from the gamin of the islet. One tries to look perfectly unconscious, and as if walking alone by the sad sea waves; while another seems too ill and wretched even to care for the march in single file up the Lästeralle, to the usual 'Ei! guten Tag Herr Schmidt Sind Sie auch da Herr Dorf. One gentleman, with his hat battered and bent, and moreover secured to the button-hole of his coat by a binnfadon, had an especial greeting-'Ei! Sie sind fur die Runstausshellung fertig!'

The island is divided into the Unter and Oberland. The latter is reached by a long flight of one hundred and eighty-four wooden steps; and as this is the only way of reaching the upper part, many persons prefer residing below, to avoid the mounting and descending; but the air on the Oberland is purer. The principal places of amusement, the Conversationhaus and the Pavilion, are en bas; in the former there is a table d'hote daily at three o'clock; and this summer about three hundred dined there every day; and when one recollects that everything has to be brought from Hamburg, the Lebensmittel could not be complained of; but fish epicures must not come to Helgoland, for during five weeks the only fish seen on the table d'hote was seezŭnge (soles) either boiled or fried. In the Conversationshaus is a reading room, where the twice a week received papers can be perused; and on the second storey there is a spielsaal. In this building are also held the réunions, which take place generally twice a week, when the large salle-à-manger is cleared of its tables and chairs, and room given to the dancers and bademusick.

The Pavilion is the usual after-dinner resort; it is on the strand, and the visitors can sip their coffee, watch the ever-varying sea, and listen to the band at the same time. The first of the three might be called a daily penitence, for it is a most wretched beverage, perhaps partly on account of the bad water, and also because the milk of sheep and goats must take the place of that of cows. True, the Governor's cow is not now treated with the same respect as used to be the case, when it was the only one of the species on the island; but although there are now a few more, the goats and sheep yield the greater part of the milk used on the island.

In the Unterland are the two principal promenades, the Gesundheitsallee, and the Binnfadenallee. The former extends all along the beach, or rather strand, and is a planked way, between lines of boats of all sorts and sizes, but all strong and firm-no little punts, or cockle-shells of pleasure-boats; and nearly all are adorned with some wonderful and grotesque painting; others have also inscriptions-one was, Der Herr wolle bewahren alle die mit den Gebrudern zu See fahren, and two young men in bright sky-blue coats personified die Gebruder. The

Binnfadenallee is the street in which are the principal places of business— the apothecary's shop, the barber's, and the watch-maker's; the latter carries on the two trades of fishing and watch-mending, the former being apparently the most profitable, for one may chance to go to him three times and find that he is 'out fishing.' There is also a Leihbibliothek in this street, which contains from fifty to sixty volumes of novels, in German, French, and English. This is a real boon on wet days, when the sole occupations of the Badegäste-bathing and boating-are impracticable, when the sea becomes a muddy reddish-brown colour, the streets swim with the same tinted water, and the charms of Helgoland have totally disappeared for the time.

Nearly opposite the Conversationshaus is a little street-if such a narrow thing can be called a street-which leads to the Treppe. At the foot of the steps are nearly the only trees in the island, the Strauch of the Helgolanders; under these lime-trees the fish-sellers generally sit. The Treppe were built by the Danes, about 1770, but were reconstructed by the English in 1834. On reaching the top, a line of pilots is nearly always to be seen, leaning over the Falin, a low wall facing the sea. Here they stand hour after hour, looking over the ocean, watching for a red flag in the distance, or what they like still better, the appearance of a wreck; for the islanders claim the third part as their share; indeed, the broad ideas of their due, would be counted robbery in other countries.

The life on land of the Helgolander is a very indolent one: lounging about, with pipe in the mouth, and hands in the pockets, with an occasional visit to the Wirthhaus, seems their only employment; while the poor women have all the hard work left to them. Formerly, it was even worse than now, for they seem ashamed for the strangers to see the women carrying the heavy baskets of turf, &c.; so now a helping hand is sometimes given, which was not the case before Helgoland became a fashionable bathing-place.

The men and women are a hardy, strong-looking race; but the latter age very early, owing to their work. The dress of the men has nothing very different from other seamen and pilots; but the costume of the women is uncommon and picturesque. The gown is of bright red stuff, with a band of brimstone yellow at the bottom. The bonnet is like those worn by the mine-girls in Cornwall; only the latter are made of white or coloured calico, while those of the Helgolanders are of black silk, or satin. The church is in the Oberland, an uninteresting edifice, built in the seventeenth century. The love of the paint-pot extends even to God's House, for the occupants of the pews have their names painted on a large board, and nailed up opposite to where they sit. 'Anna' seems to be a very common name; in one pew were three different Annas. The Service is in German; and to English ears, it sounds strange to hear our Queen and Royal Family prayed for in that language; and no less remarkable was the petition for a blessing on the fishing.

Near the church is the light-house, erected by the English, in 1810. On the stairs, the word 'England,' in large letters, is to be seen. From the gallery outside, the most splendid view is to be had; and especially grand is it in stormy weather, when the tossing and surging waste of waters seems to threaten destruction to the islet, and the foam of the breakers reaches the cliffs two hundred feet in height.

On leaving the light-house, the Kartoffelallee leads to the Nordspitze. Potato-fields, or rather patches, and scanty herbage, cover the top of the Oberland; the length of which is about 6000 feet, and the breadth scarcely 2000 feet. The green patches are dotted with sheep and goats, who crop the scanty herbage. The Nordspitze is the spot usually chosen to watch the glorious sunsets, which splendid sight can be enjoyed twice in one evening in Helgoland. While standing on the shore in the Unterland, one sees the sun disappear from the horizon; and then, by rapidly mounting the steps, it is again perceived, and can be watched till it sinks as a ball of brilliant fire in the vast waste of waters. In the sheltered parts of the Oberland, which are on the east side, there are attempts to have miniature gardens, and a few real flowers are cultivated. In one place there is quite a venerable looking pear tree. The Düne, an insignificant little stretch of sand as it looks, is the backbone of Helgoland; were it to disappear, as has sometimes been feared, the island would cease to be a fashionable bathing-place, and would fall back to its original state. Formerly the Düne was part of the real island, they were united as late as 1720, but now a broad band of the green North Sea rolls between them. The length of the Düne is about 3,600 feet, and the breadth 1,000: this tiny islet consists of sand downs overgrown with Sandhofer, which prevents the soft soil from being blown away altogether. All around the Düne is a flat beach of fine white sand, forming a delightful bed for the Sandratten, who are often surprised to find themselves knocked down by the waves, when standing in water only a foot deep. Besides the soft sand, the clear bright water, and the swell which is always to be found on some part of the island, the Düne has another great advantage for bathing-the hour need not be changed from day to day to suit the tide, but one can always bathe from six in the morning till two in the afternoon; the earliest time at which the boats begin the Ueberfarht, and the latest at which boats and bathing-women leave. The row or sail across from the mainland is, for good sailors, a great enhancement to the bath; it generally occupies about a quarter of an hour. The embarking place is usually the same as for the steamers, and the arrangement is rather primitive in its construction. A narrow plank rests on four wheels, one end comes to the level of the boats, the other stretches out on the beach till it is beyond water-mark, and over this narrow way a Gänsemarsch goes on during the greater part of the morning. On arriving at the Düne, beim Ansteigen, the same process takes place; then the gentlemen all branch off to the 'Herrnbäden,' and the ladies take an opposite direction, generally die Herren rechts,