might be taken only by halves, which would have been ridiculous enough
in any branch, but it was even more preposterous in medicine. Thus, in
pathology, a certain number of intending physicians studied the subject
of infection, while others studied nervous disorders, and yet others the
diseases of the respiratory organs. Nobody studied all three. A plan of
this sort could only have been conceived by Spanish professors, who, it
may be said in general, are the quintessence of vacuity.

"What difference does it make whether the students learn anything or
not?" every Spanish professor asks himself continually.

Unamuno says, apropos of the backwardness of Spaniards in the field of
invention: "Other nations can do the inventing." In other words, let
foreigners build up the sciences, so that we may take advantage of them.

There was one among my professors who considered himself a born teacher
and, moreover, a man of genius, and he was Letamendi. 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