timent of impatience upon the subject. He expressed his regret, on account of the delay we had suffered, in the most amiable and cordial manner, and instantly won upon my regard, by the mild and gentle yet intellectual cast of his clear pale face, his tall erect form and air of dignity, so entirely free of the gross and sensual appearance, which I have observed too often among the monks of Madrid. Under his guidance, and with Bermejo's minute Descripcion de San Lorenzo in my hand, I gave up myself to the gratification of examining, too cursorily indeed, the grandeur and riches of this noble edifice.

San Lorenzo abounds in splendid pictures of the great masters, in canvass and fresco. Most of them are in good preservation, although some of the paintings in fresco are injured by damp, and not a few of the large pieces in the open galleries have been disfigured, partly by the French, but still more by idle and ill-bred youths placed here for education, who, in the same wretched spirit of vulgar mischief, which is apt to disgrace the inmates of other places of instruction, have scratched, defaced, or written upon the lower part of the panels. France, it would seem, is almost the only country, where the young and uneducated pay such entire respect to these national monuments of art, that nothing need be apprehended from rendering them freely accessible to all classes and ages.

Of these paintings, such as are in fresco, that is,

upon

the interior walls and vaulted ceilings of the Escorial, in the chapel, library, sacristy, cloister, and stair-cases, and of course painted for the special decoration of the edifice, are of the highest merit and by eminent masters, such as Carducho, Giordano, Pellegrino dei Pellegrini, and Caravajal. But splendid as are these works of art, they are surpassed by the multitudes of exquisite productions of all the great masters of Italy, Spain, and the Netherlands, suspended in different parts of the monastery and palace. Here are the master-pieces of Navarrete surnamed El Mudo, of Ribera, Carducho, Coello, Caravajal, among the Spaniards; celebrated works of Raphael, Albert Durer, Titian, Carducho, El Greco, Coxie, Rubens, Pellegrino, Sebastian del Piombo, Tintoretto, Vandyck, Guido Reni, Guercino, Lionardo da Vinci, Giordano, Paul of Verona, and I know not how many others of the eminent names in the art of painting. There are single apartments, which, independent of all the rest, suffice to form splendid galleries of the very highest order of selectness and richness. Such is the sacristy, containing, among other pieces, Our Lady of the Rosary by Murillo, the Visitation of Saint Elizabeth by Raphael, an Agnus Dei by the same artist, his unrivalled picture of the Virgin, familiarly known as the Pearl, the Interment by Ribera, and exquisite pieces by Lionardo, Titian, Tintoretto, and Guido. Such also is the old or temporary chapel, where, in company worthy of it, 10*

VOL. I.

hangs the celebrated picture by Raphael, denominated La Virgen del Pez, or Our Lady of the Fish. I am aware that I do but recount the names of artists and their works; but to describe their beauties would occupy a volume; and in speaking of the Escorial, it would be treason to genius which the world admires, to omit to designate some of these its greatest productions.

Of the statuary, sculptures, columns, and other architectural ornaments, why should I attempt to speak? Here is a vast edifice, seven hundred fortyfour Castilian feet in length and five hundred eighty in breadth, filled with objects of interest in these branches of art; and instead of attempting to particularize them, let us repair to the church, which affords the best idea of the general style of architecture and ornament adopted in the Escorial. Imagine a temple three hundred twenty feet in length and two hundred thirty in breadth, surmounted by an immense dome rising three hundred thirty feet above the pavement, constructed of solid blocks of stone, abounding with statues, pictures, columns, and every thing which can render a place of worship imposing, and you will then obtain some general idea of this majestic church. The greyish tint of the stone, and the sparing admission of light, contribute to awaken sombre emotions, allied to superstitious gloom; but the effect is withal grand, overpowering, I had almost said sublime; and it is while standing in the

great nave, and gazing on the lofty vaults and heavy pillars and long lines of masonry, interrupted only by splendid pictures, or sumptuous mausoleums, or the magnificent altars and chapels, that one learns to appreciate the Escorial. Viewing it without, we feel a sensation of disappointment, because we are compelled to compare it with the surrounding mountains: here, within the walls of its church, we judge of it, as we should of every work of human hands, by reference to ourselves and our own stature;—and here, therefore, we are overwhelmed with the sense of the grandeur of its conception and the nobleness of its effect.

Here, as in other large churches, the choir, sanctuary, and chief altar, are the particular objects more especially deserving of attention, for their rich carvings, pictures, and statuary in stone or metal. The sanctuary contains two superb mansoleums. One, in honor of Charles V., is ornamented with five bronze statues, representing the Emperor armed, and clad in his imperial mantle, accompanied with the Empress Isabel, his daughter the Empress Maria, and his two sisters of France and Hungary. The other, of Philip II., consists of similar bronze statues of the king and three of his wives, Maria, Elizabeth, and Anna. The chief altar and its tabernacle are also extremely magnificent.

Fray Antonio carried us to a small apartment, looking out upon the gardens, where many of the reliques belonging to the house are preserved. How

much soever Don Jaime might have experienced of reverence in viewing them, it was impossible for me, free as I was from the influences of Roman Catholic education and habits of mind, to regard them with lively interest except as objects of curiosity. But still I could not refuse to listen with respectful consideration to the explanations of Father Guadalupe; nor could I presume to deny the sincerity of his faith in their genuineness and their valuable qualities. Apart, indeed, from the miraculous property claimed for such reliques by the Roman church, the sentiment, which leads a Catholic to revere a fragment of the true cross, or to prize the remains of a saint, is a natural one, allied to our best feelings and principles. Do not men lay by, as memorials of the place, a leaf of laurel plucked in the gardens of Blenheim, a wheatsheaf from the blood-fattened field of Waterloo, or a wild flower gathered at the tomb of Mount Vernon? Who may not have cherished even a lock of hair in memory of an absent or deceased friend? Let us exercise tolerance that we may deserve to receive it; let us be just towards the opinions of others, if we would have them generous in respect of ours. We of the Protestant faith, especially in Old and New England, whose law-books contain or have contained so many penal provisions against Catholics, should be less prone than we are to condemn them for a spirit of persecution. And it argues little in favor of our own charity, that we