“What!” exclaimed Lady Mabel, “had they attained that perfection in the art of building?  Could they exercise those hordes of little demons, lay a spell upon them and turn them out of doors?  Had you told me this yesterday I would have been less impressed by it.  But, after last night’s ordeal, I venerate the Moor.  Almost I regret the expulsion of his cleanly superstition, since it has carried with it into exile so rare an art.”

Mrs. Shortridge, too, seemed fully to appreciate the value of the lost art, and said, “these Moors must indeed have been a very comfortable people.”

“And they crowned their comfort in this world,” said L’Isle, “by inventing an equally comfortable system for the next.”

“Is it not strange,” said Lady Mabel, gazing on the building before them, “that the production of two races, each so skillful, should be so utterly incompatible.  Classic and Saracenic art, both beautiful, united make a monster.”

“Not so strange,” L’Isle answered, “as the simplicity of the Mohammedan faith, amidst all that is fantastic in arts and letters—­a grotesque architecture, a wondrous alchemy, the extravagant in poetry and the supernatural in fiction; or the purity of classic art, characterized by simplicity and proportion, yet drawing its inspiration from a wild and copious mythology, made up of the sportive creations of fancy.”

“They were a wonderful people, these Romans, as even this obscure corner of Europe can witness,” said Lady Mabel, her eyes dwelling on the beautiful colonade, and tracing out the exquisite symmetry of the shafts, and the rich foliage of the Corinthian capitals.

“Were these Romans Christians?” asked Moodie, who had hitherto looked on in silence.

“No,” she answered, “they worshipped many false gods.”

“Then they were just like all the Romans I have known,” said he dryly, and turned his back on the temple.

“Come,” said Mrs. Shortridge, “let us take Moodie’s hint, and look for something else worth seeing.”

As they continued their walk, L’Isle remarked, “In many a place in the peninsula we find a Roman aqueduct, a Moorish castle, and a Gothic cathedral standing close together, yet ages apart.  How much of history is embraced in this?  We have just been gazing upon the mouldering remains of two phases of civilization, which were at their height, one, while our forefathers were yet heathen and almost savage, the other, while they were but emerging from a rude barbarism.  We should never forget that this peninsula was the high road which arts and letters traveled on their progress into Western Europe, and to our own land.”

“We are much indebted to letters and the arts for the unanimity with which they came on to us; for certainly,” said Lady Mabel, looking round her, “little of either appears to have loitered behind.  Every object around us makes the impression of a country and a people who have seen better days; and you cannot help wondering and fearing where this downward path may end.”