s son, Alfonso.

Seville ranks high among the churches of Spain in the beauty of its
carving. The stone screen that forms the rear of the retablo is filled
with admirable Gothic terra-cotta statues, saints, virgins, bishops,
martyrs and prelates executed with a little of the curious rigidity of
the Dutch School still awaiting its Renaissance emancipation, but with
faces full of holy devotion. The modeling is correct and the treatment
of the drapery excellent.

Within the enclosure of the Capilla Mayor, there is still to be seen at
certain times of the year, a ceremony which has been performed for
centuries, and which is certainly the most unique religious rite
celebrated in any Christian church. To the Saxon it is most
extraordinary. During the last three days of the Carnival or after the
Feast of Corpus Domini, we may see boys dressed in costumes perform a
dance before the high altar of the Cathedral. Children, so the tale
runs, danced, skipped and shouted for joy when the city of Seville was
finally taken from the Mohammedans, and these childish demonstrations so
touched the hearts of the clergy who entered the city with the
conquering army, that they resolved that succeeding generations of boys
should perpetuate them forever. Of all the festivals and religious
processions culminating in or outside Saint Mary's shrine, surely none
can give her so much pleasure as the sight of these little boys dancing
and singing in her honor.

This naif and charming ceremonial is part of the Mozarabic Ritual, the
work of Saint Isidore, a metropolitan of Seville a hundred years before
the arrival of the Saracens. In his early years, when his elder brother
Leander ruled the Gothic Church with stern hand, Isidore had time and
talents to master in his cloistered seclusion so much art and science
that he became the Admirable Crichton of his day. His work on "The
Origin of Things" shows the profundity of his knowledge, his history of
the Goths is beyond doubt his most valuable legacy to us, but what
endeared him above all to his countrymen was the Mozarabic Rite, of
which he composed both breviary and music. The Benedictine monks of
Cluny, those architects and chroniclers, who had been obliged to
sacrifice their Gallican liturgy for the Roman, could not rest satisfied
until they had imposed it on the Peninsula. They were supported in this
truly foreign aggression by Constance of Burgundy, Queen of Alfonso VI,
and by the masterful Gregor