lumage of birds in the tropics. There is a certain harmony between the
dark, smooth skin, the glossy raven hair, the long, dark lashes, the
blue veins of the temples, and the national head-dress of the Spanish
ladies, which gratifies the artistic eye. Ah! if the mind in those
lovely women were but as noble as their faces! Unfortunately, perhaps,
their very beauty makes their defects the more conspicuous. Ermine must
be spotless.

In her splendid art collection of the Museo, the city has a treasure
only equaled by the Louvre at Paris and the galleries at Florence. To
artists, it is the one attraction of Madrid, and is principally composed
of works by the Spanish masters, though also containing many other gems.
Here we find forty-four examples of Murillo, sixty-four from Velasquez,
sixty by Rubens, twenty-five from Paul Veronese, thirty-four from
Tintoretto, and many from Andrea del Sarto, Titian, Vandyke, Goya,
Ribera, and others of similar artistic fame, in such profusion as to be
a constant source of surprise to the stranger. Here one is sure to meet,
daily, intelligent Americans, French, Italians, and English, but very
rarely Spaniards. It is believed that Murillo appears at his best in
this collection. Being a native of Seville, he is in a measure seen at
home; and artists declare that his work shows more of light, power, and
expression here than anywhere outside of the Museo. So we go to Antwerp
to appreciate Rubens, though we find him so ably and fully represented
elsewhere. Velasquez cannot be fairly judged outside the Madrid gallery.
He also was at home here, and his paintings are not only the most
numerous, but are decidedly his best. The arrangement of the pictures of
the Museo is severely criticised; some of the best are hung too high,
while those one does not care to study, or scarcely to see at all, have
been accorded the best lines in the gallery. There seems to be no system
observed; the hangings are frequently altered, and the printed catalogue
is thus rendered of very little use. The building itself is a large and
admirable structure, well adapted to the purpose, quite worthy to
contain the choice art treasures beneath its roof. When the French were
masters in Spain they proved to be terrible iconoclasts, leaving marks
of their devastation nearly everywhere in one form or another. Not
content with stealing many unequaled works of art of priceless value,
they often wantonly destroyed what it was impossible