s proposals. She did not speak, but turned to look at him,
whereupon he saw the side of her face which had been hidden from his
gaze, and it was eaten away by a foul and loathsome disease, so that it
seemed more horrible than the face of death. The gallant was so
terrified that he fainted, and afterwards the face haunted him, the face
of matchless beauty and of revolting decay, so that he turned from the
world. He devoted his fortune to rebuilding the hospital and church of
the Brotherhood of Charity, whose chief office it was to administer the
sacraments to those condemned to death and provide for their burial, and
was eventually received into their Order.

It was in the seventeenth century that Manara built his church, and
consequently rococo holds sway with all its fantasies. It is small,
without aisles or chapels, and the morbid opulence of the decoration
gives it a peculiar character. The walls are lined with red damask, and
the floor carpeted with a heavy crimson carpet; it gives the sensation
of a hothouse, or, with its close odours, of a bedchamber transformed
into a chapel for the administration of the last sacrament. The
atmosphere is unhealthy: one pants for breath.

At one end, taking up the entire wall, is a reredos by Pedro Roldan, of
which the centrepiece is an elaborate 'Deposition in the Tomb,' with
numerous figures coloured to the life. It is very fine in its mingling
of soft, rich hues and flamboyant realism. The artist has revelled in
the opportunity for anguish of expression that his subject afforded, but
has treated it with such a passionate seriousness that, in his grim,
fierce way, he does not fail to be impressive. The frame is of twisted
golden pillars, supported by little naked angels, and decorated with
grapes and vine-leaves. Above and at the sides are great saints in
carved wood, and angels with floating drapery.

Murillo was on terms of intimacy with don Miguel de Manara, and like him
a member of the Hermandad. For his friend he painted some of his most
famous pictures, which by the subdued ardour of their colour, by their
opulent tones, harmonise most exquisitely with the church. Marshal
Soult, with a fine love of art that was profitable, carried off several
of them, and their empty frames stare at one still. But before that,
when they were all in place, the effect must have been of unique
magnificence.

It must be an extraordinary religion that flourishes in such a place, an
artifici