blossoming.

"Enter into life! Enter into life!" was the call of a prophet long ago.
In barbaric Africa, Fortuny entered into life with the same fine, free,
eager, receptive spirit that he had elsewhere shown. General Prim,
soldier and scholar, saw that his secretary was capable of doing
something more than keeping accounts, and so a substitute was hired and
Fortuny was sent here and there as messenger, but in reality, so that he
could see as many sides of old Moorish life as possible.

Staid old General Prim loved the young man just as Madrazo had. Fortuny
was not much of a soldier, for war did not interest him, save from its
picturesque side. "War is transient, but Beauty is eternal," he once
said.

Even the fact that the Spanish Army was now on the soil of her ancient
enemy, the Moor, did not stir his patriotism.

He sketched with feverish industry, fearing the war would end too soon,
and he would have to go back with empty sketchbooks. The long stretches
of white sands, the glaring sunshine, the paradox of riotous riches and
ragged poverty, the veiled women, blinking camels, long rifles with butts
inlaid with silver, swords whose hilts are set with precious stones, gray
Arab horses with tails sweeping the ground, and everywhere the flutter of
rags--these things bore in on his artist-nature and filled his heart.

He hastily painted in a few of his sketches and sent them as presents to
his friends in Barcelona.

The very haste of the work, the meager outline and simple colors--glaring