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.
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