against the grey skies. A magic
picture and we long to see it under sunshine. No wonder if Pan is
silent.

We turn to the cathedral. No need to knock this morning. The great west
doors are unlocked and we enter.

The first thing to strike us is an intense obscurity; a dim religious
light deeper than we remember to have seen in any other sacred building.
But to-day the grey skies have something to answer for in this matter.
As the sight grows accustomed to the gloom, the next thing we notice is
the vastness and splendour of the nave in which we stand: a single span
seventy-three feet broad. No other church in Christendom can boast of
such a nave. Light comes in from windows high up, filled in with rich
stained glass. The tone of the walls and pillars is perfect, never
having been touched with brush or knife; a rich subdued claret
delighting the senses. Those great men of the Middle Ages made no
mistakes. Nothing was admitted to disturb their love of harmony and
proportion. They built wonders for the glory of their country and for
all time: knew and recognised one thing only--the charm of perfection.
Where they failed, their efforts were crippled; they were told to make
bricks without straw.

Without waiting at this moment to examine the church more closely, we
pass through a great doorway on the left and find ourselves in the
cloisters.

Here too is a marvellous vision. Few cloisters in the world compare with
them. The four sides are unequal, but this almost heightens their
attraction. They have been little interfered with and are almost in
their original state. The simple round arches rest on coupled pillars of
marble, slender and graceful. The capitals are extremely rich, elaborate
and delicate in their carving. Here Romanesque art seems to have been
introduced into Spain through France. The cathedrals of Catalonia are of
exceeding beauty and appear to have laid the foundation of mediaeval
Spanish art. This also, though they would deny it, is due to French
influence--happily at that time at its best and purest.

In this wonderful cloister we lost ourselves in dreams of the Middle
Ages, days which have glorified the earth, and appear almost as
necessary to us as light and air. In the centre was an ancient well,
without which no cloister seems perfect. Shrubs and trees embowered it,
and the fresh green stood out in contrast with creamy walls and
Romanesque arches.

At the end of the north passage we passed throug