Cold, Cold
Must The Heart Be Which Can Remain Insensible To The Beauties Of
This Magic Scene, To Do Justice To Which The Pencil Of Claude
Himself Were Barely Equal.
Often have I shed tears of rapture
whilst I beheld it, and listened to the thrush and the nightingale
piping forth their melodious songs in the woods, and inhaled the
breeze laden with the perfume of the thousand orange gardens of
Seville:
"Kennst du das land wo die citronem bluhen?"
The interior of Seville scarcely corresponds with the exterior:
the streets are narrow, badly paved, and full of misery and
beggary. The houses are for the most part built in the Moorish
fashion, with a quadrangular patio or court in the centre, where
stands a marble fountain, constantly distilling limpid water.
These courts, during the time of the summer heats, are covered over
with a canvas awning, and beneath this the family sit during the
greater part of the day. In many, especially those belonging to
the houses of the wealthy, are to be found shrubs, orange trees,
and all kinds of flowers, and perhaps a small aviary, so that no
situation can be conceived more delicious than to lie here in the
shade, hearkening to the song of the birds and the voice of the
fountain.
Nothing is more calculated to interest the stranger as he wanders
through Seville, than a view of these courts obtained from the
streets, through the iron-grated door. Oft have I stopped to
observe them, and as often sighed that my fate did not permit me to
reside in such an Eden for the remainder of my days. On a former
occasion, I have spoken of the cathedral of Seville, but only in a
brief and cursory manner. It is perhaps the most magnificent
cathedral in all Spain, and though not so regular in its
architecture as those of Toledo and Burgos, is far more worthy of
admiration when considered as a whole. It is utterly impossible to
wander through the long aisles, and to raise one's eyes to the
richly inlaid roof, supported by colossal pillars, without
experiencing sensations of sacred awe, and deep astonishment. It
is true that the interior, like those of the generality of the
Spanish cathedrals, is somewhat dark and gloomy; yet it loses
nothing by this gloom, which, on the contrary, rather increases the
solemnity of the effect. Notre Dame of Paris is a noble building,
yet to him who has seen the Spanish cathedrals, and particularly
this of Seville, it almost appears trivial and mean, and more like
a town-hall than a temple of the Eternal. The Parisian cathedral
is entirely destitute of that solemn darkness and gloomy pomp which
so abound in the Sevillian, and is thus destitute of the principal
requisite to a cathedral.
In most of the chapels are to be found some of the very best
pictures of the Spanish school; and in particular many of the
masterpieces of Murillo, a native of Seville. Of all the pictures
of this extraordinary man, one of the least celebrated is that
which has always wrought on me the most profound impression. I
allude to the Guardian Angel (Angel de la Guardia), a small picture
which stands at the bottom of the church, and looks up the
principal aisle. The angel, holding a flaming sword in his right
hand, is conducting the child. This child is, in my opinion, the
most wonderful of all the creations of Murillo; the form is that of
an infant about five years of age, and the expression of the
countenance is quite infantine, but the tread - it is the tread of a
conqueror, of a God, of the Creator of the universe; and the
earthly globe appears to tremble beneath its majesty.
The service of the cathedral is in general well attended,
especially when it is known that a sermon is to be preached. All
these sermons are extemporaneous; some of them are edifying and
faithful to the Scriptures. I have often listened to them with
pleasure, though I was much surprised to remark, that when the
preachers quoted from the Bible, their quotations were almost
invariably taken from the apocryphal writings. There is in general
no lack of worshippers at the principal shrines - women for the most
part - many of whom appear to be animated with the most fervent
devotion.
I had flattered myself, previous to my departure from Madrid, that
I should experience but little difficulty in the circulation of the
Gospel in Andalusia, at least for a time, as the field was new, and
myself and the object of my mission less known and dreaded than in
New Castile. It appeared, however, that the government at Madrid
had fulfilled its threat, transmitting orders throughout Spain for
the seizure of my books wherever found. The Testaments that
arrived from Madrid were seized at the custom-house, to which place
all goods on their arrival, even from the interior, are carried, in
order that a duty be imposed upon them. Through the management of
Antonio, however, I procured one of the two chests, whilst the
other was sent down to San Lucar, to be embarked for a foreign land
as soon as I could make arrangements for that purpose.
I did not permit myself to be discouraged by this slight
contretemps, although I heartily regretted the loss of the books
which had been seized, and which I could no longer hope to
circulate in these parts, where they were so much wanted; but I
consoled myself with the reflection, that I had still several
hundred at my disposal, from the distribution of which, if it
pleased the Lord, a blessed harvest might still proceed.
I did not commence operations for some time, for I was in a strange
place, and scarcely knew what course to pursue. I had no one to
assist me but poor Antonio, who was as ignorant of the place as
myself. Providence, however, soon sent me a coadjutor, in rather a
singular manner.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 181 of 218
Words from 184474 to 185483
of 222596
