THE STUDIO

In one of the narrowest and most obscure streets of Seville, there stood, in the year of grace 1616, an old-fashioned house, which, in consequence of repeated addition, subtraction and multiplication of architecture, could in no way have been recognised by the ancient builder, who, years before, probably with much joy, had eliminated his fundamental idea of beauty in its creation.

The house consisted of two storeys, if the upper half may be dignified by such a title, being nothing more than a species of loft with an earthen floor, and low raftered roof, to which you ascended by a ladder. But this loft, or garret, or den, is precisely the only part of the house in which we are interested. However, to gratify laudable curiosity, we state that the remainder of the Domus consisted of a parlour, a small kitchen, a large paved court, and a villainous stable for one horse, uniformly empty; and we state the fact now respecting the stable, that the subject need not again be resumed.

The den (we prefer the briefest appellation) had two windows—one looking on the street, and the other on the paved court at the back. When you raised your head perpendicularly, after ascending the ladder, and projected it through the trap-door which served for entrance, you beheld various pieces of canvas, pictures and prints, some hanging from the wall, others strewed on the floor, evidencing at the first glance, that the idea of symmetry in the arrangement could never have entered their owner's head.