I made clear in my
_Tree of Knowledge_ what I thought of this professor, who was not
destitute, indeed, of a certain talent as an orator and man of letters.
When he wrote, he was rococo, like so many Catalans. Sometimes he would
discourse upon art, especially upon painting, in the class-room, but the
ideas he entertained were preposterous. I recall that he once said that
a mouse and a book were not a fit subject for a painting, but if you
were to write the words _Aristotle's Works_ on the book, and then
set the mouse to gnawing at it, what had originally meant nothing would
immediately become a subject for a picture. Yes, a picture to be hawked
at the street fairs!
Letamendi was prolixity and puerile ingenuity personified. Yet Letamendi
was no different from all other Spaniards of his day, including even the
most celebrated, such as Castelar, Echegaray and Valera.
These men read much, they possessed good memories, but I verily believe
that, honestly, they understood nothing. Not one of them had an inkling
of that almost tragic sense of the dignity of culture or of the
obligations which it imposes, which distinguishes the Germans above all
other nationalities. They nearly all revealed an attitude toward science
which would have sat easily upon a smart, sharp-tongued Andalusian young
gentleman.
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