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The Spanish school is noted for its perfection of perspective and design and its vivid and natural coloring. Our Morales followed Raphael, and his inimitable paint­ings of Christ have gained for him the surname of Divine. Juan de Juanes is the father of the Valencian school, which Spagnoletto afterward brought to the highest state of perfection. Spagnoletto excelled in Bible scenes, especially those pictures which represent sorrow and suffering. Velasquez was his cotemporary and possessed something of his style. In portrait painting he surpassed even Titian and VanDyke.

Who that loves art does not know the sublime Murillo? He studied in Madrid and never traveled out of Spain. He brought the Spanish school to the height of its glory. Though Raphael is considered the most perfect of all artists, to Murillo must be granted the honor of the highest excellence in representing nature; not as it ought to be, but as it is. Indeed, the whole city of Madrid is a wonderful w'ork of art. It is laid out from a magnificent design. The “ Puerta del Sol ” is the heart of Madrid, the middle of the spider web from which radiate all the principal streets.

We now turn from Madrid thirty miles away to the southeastern declivity of the Guadarrama chain, and there, midway up the barren mountain-side, stands the Monas­tery of St. Lawrence, or the “ Escurial,” the wonder of wonders, the eighth wonder of the world. It was built by Phillip II. in memory of St. Lawrence, upon whose day he won the Battle of Saint Quentin. No structure in the world, except the pyramids of Egypt, gives so high an idea of human power. It cost originally $50,000,000 and was twenty-four years in building. It has two thousand rooms and five thousand windows. This is the home of the famous pantheon, built in the ground directly under the altar of the church, where lie in state the Kings and Queens since Charles V. To give any kind of a description of the Escurial would require more time than you would be willing to grant me.

I will pass it over by repeating to you what Harrison says of this stupendous combination of wonderful magnificence: “A mausoleum, a monastery, a palace, a church, a museum, a marvelous reliquary where the limbs and bones of hundreds of saints were devoutly accumulated; a city of corridors, doors, windows and apartments; a great library, a gigantic picture gallery, a network of tanks and towers, a confession stool for princely humiliation, a village of monks; a town clinging to the sides of the mountain wilderness, a swarming cloister, an austere hermitage, a fortress!”

Delicate marbles of many hues, damasks and velvets of Granada, bronze and iron of Toledo, exquisite work in steel, gold and precious stones from Milan, gorgeous tapestries from Flanders, rare embroideries from the thronging monasteries of Spain, cedar, ebony, marvelously-tinted woods from beyond the seas—all that money, con­summate taste and boundless dominion could summon—hung or glistened or blazed with magical brilliancy within these walls. It is filled with inestimable treasures, gems, oriental manuscripts, shrines, painting and sculptures.

The leaning tower of Saragossa is another wonder. Its antiquity enhances its interest, having done duty as a clock tower for the church of San Felipe for many centuries. It leans ten feet from the perpendicular, and is a solid structure of dia­pered stone, handsomely filigreed. I have but touched at the center of the circle of art in Spain. As it widens it also deepens, until we are lost more and more in amaze­ment at the countless treasures contained in the long-despised Iberian peninsula.

The Cathedral of Toledo, the galleries of Seville, the arches and gardens of Cor­dova, the Alhambra of Granada, the port of Malga, the many palaces of great note, all embody grandeur and interest beyond the conception of any one mind.

Oh Sunny Spain, my native land!

My feet have trod the wide world o’er,

But nothing can I find so grand As thy rich hills from shore to shore.

Thy azure skies and crystal streams,

Thy lovely valleys by the sea,

Thy stately palms and verdure green,

The dearest of a'l earth to me.

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