Roman Catholicism in Spain Part 3

There are two kinds of ma.s.s, high ma.s.s and low ma.s.s. The first is generally performed by three priests, viz., the officiating priest, the subdeacon, who chants the epistle, and the deacon, who chants the gospel.

In the high ma.s.s, the choir sings many parts of it, and the organ is played at times by way of accompaniment, and at other times as a solo, during the offertory and the canon. On these occasions incense is burned to perfume the altar, after which the deacon perfumes the officiating priest; and if persons of authority or distinction are in attendance at the office of the ma.s.s, the acolytes perfume them with the incensories.

The most extraordinary, and, we may justly say, absurd thing in all this complicated series of practices and ceremonies is, that the whole of them are performed in a language which the people do not understand, and consequently they play the part of mere spectators, without having one single religious idea communicated to the mind, or one devout sentiment to the heart. The people see nothing more than a man dressed in a certain manner, moving from one side to another, and from whose lips are proceeding words which are absolutely void of sense. Hence proceeds that species of indifference with which the people regard that spectacle, an indifference which degenerates into profanation and levity. In Spain, particularly, it is quite common for lovers to converse with each other during the ma.s.s; and the turbulent crowds which rush in towards the conclusion, the noise, the haste, and, sometimes, the bad expressions which fall on the ear, in the precincts of the edifice, form a strange and scandalous contrast to the sacred character with which the church seems anxious to invest the sacrifice of the ma.s.s. The greater number of those persons who a.s.semble to witness it, particularly the humble cla.s.ses, believe they have complied with the obligation they are under to hear the ma.s.s, if even they only _see_ the priest; and so wearisome has this duty become to the majority of Spaniards, that the most popular priests are those who say the shortest ma.s.ses.

We have heard such and such a father spoken of with enthusiasm who says the ma.s.s in twelve minutes, although it appears impossible even to read the parts composing it in less than eighteen or twenty. On the other hand, when a devout and scrupulous priest recites these offices with due deliberation, and performs the ceremonies with a becoming degree of solemnity and decorum, the church is deserted. The popular phrase in such cases is "Father So-and-so is heavy in the ma.s.s,"-("_El padre tiene la misa pesada_.")

There are some persons who, during the ma.s.s, read their prayers translated into Spanish; but this is really a French custom, and wholly inadmissible among a people the great majority of whom are unable to read. But the most objectionable thing in the ma.s.s is its mercenary character. The object which induces a Christian to pay for a ma.s.s, is to recompense the priest for applying the merits of the sacrifice to _desires_ and _intentions_, sometimes not very pure, on the part of those who pay.

Thus they pay for a ma.s.s to obtain the health of a sick person, security during a journey, a good result from a speculation, or the preservation of a soul from the fire of purgatory. Even robbers will give a certain portion of their plunder to a priest to say a ma.s.s for their next adventure. The ordinary phrase in these cases, at the time of paying the father for the ma.s.s, is this:-"Say a ma.s.s for my _intention_;" so that the priest has recourse to the throne of the Most High, immolates the most sacred of victims, believes that he introduces to his own body that of the Saviour, and all this without knowing why or wherefore! He who orders a ma.s.s and pays for it has no need to reveal to any one his object or intention; and if he likes to be silent, it is a want of discretion and of delicacy on the part of the priest to question him on that point.

The price of a ma.s.s varies from a s.h.i.+lling to one pound sterling. A high ma.s.s is much dearer, and its price depends on the pomp and ornaments bespoken by the person desiring it. In wills and testaments it is very common to order a number of ma.s.ses to be said for the soul of the testator; and even in recent times, it has been a common practice to found what are called "pious works." These consist in giving to a church a sum of money, a rural or a city property, bound by an obligation to say so many ma.s.ses in the year for the soul of the donor.

Whenever it happens that this obligation is disregarded, and the required ma.s.ses are not said, the Pope concedes a "bull of composition" (_bula de composicion_), which, in effect, commands that a single ma.s.s shall serve for all those which have been omitted. This kind of legislation will appear incredible to all those who are ignorant of the irregularities of the court of Rome; but every person who has lived in Spain knows that it is of daily occurrence.

One of the most solemn ma.s.ses in the year is that which is celebrated on Christmas-eve at midnight, that being the hour at which, it is supposed, the Saviour of the world was born. It is called "The ma.s.s of the c.o.c.k,"

(_misa del gallo_), as having an allusion to the hour in which it is celebrated. The hilarity of the Spaniards on this occasion is expressed in a way more a.n.a.logous to that accompanying heathen rites, than to any which should pertain to Christian wors.h.i.+p. Under pretext of taking part in so happy a commemoration, they abandon themselves, during the whole night, to the most noisy demonstrations of joy. Numerous parties of men and women perambulate the streets, singing couplets, called _villancicos_, which are exclusively applicable to this feast, and playing on two species of musical instruments, having the most abominable sound, called _raveles_ and _zambombas_, which are never used but on this occasion. The churches are filled with people, who are far from conducting themselves with that decorum and moderation belonging to the place. The jovial dispositions then manifested are encouraged by the organ, on which are played waltzes, polkas, and even the vulgar songs heard at dances of the lower cla.s.ses; and these performances are distinctly heard whilst the priest is saying the ma.s.s. In general, the believers, after having taken a part in the service, give themselves up to all the disorders of excessive eating and drinking. Nothing in modern times approximates so nearly to the orgies of antiquity as this celebrating "the good night" (_la noche buena_) in Spain. Sometimes the civil authorities are obliged to put a check upon them, but we believe there is no instance in which the clergy have made the slightest attempt to repress such scandalous disorders. We cannot see how the most zealous Roman Catholic can justify a practice so opposed to the true spirit of Christianity, and so deeply rooted in the public manners, that, in the eyes of most Spaniards, any person who would dare to censure it would pa.s.s for an unbeliever or a heretic.

There are two days in the year on which it is prohibited to say ma.s.s at all; these are, Thursday in Pa.s.sion-week and Good Friday. The English tourists know the eminently dramatic character which distinguishes these feasts at that season of the year in St Peter's at Rome. All the offices of the seven days of that week are well calculated to excite the imagination, and awaken in the coldest hearts the most lively sympathy with the great events then commemorated. Every thing connected with those rites breathes grief and sadness, and there is a certain mournful solemnity in them which harmonises with the scenes of our Saviour's pa.s.sion. The chapters of the four Evangelists, containing the narrative of that great event, from the going up of our Lord to Jerusalem to the crucifixion, are chanted by three priests, each one taking a distinct part. One takes the words in which the evangelist recounts those events; another the words put into the mouths of Judas, Pilate, Peter, and the other persons referred to in the narrative; and the third, whose voice is generally a profound ba.s.s, the words of the Saviour. The solemnity of the Thursday has for its object the inst.i.tution of the eucharist, and the long series of ceremonies in which this grand mystery is symbolised, concludes by conducting, in solemn procession, the consecrated host from the great altar of the church, where it has been preserved all the year, to a wooden sanctuary in the same church, more or less richly adorned, called the monument (_monumento_), which is dressed up with a profusion of jewels, lights, and flowers, and remains all night guarded by some of the devout, and, in towns which contain a garrison, by military sentinels. Some of those monuments are, in truth, works of architecture of great merit; and among them that of the cathedral of Seville is distinguished for its gigantic dimensions, and for the richness and elegance of its structure.

In the offices for Good Friday, the host is restored to the altar, with a ceremony as solemn as that of the day preceding; and the services, which are very long, refer to all the scenes of the crucifixion, including all the pa.s.sages in the prophecies and other parts of the Old Testament in which the event is prefigured or foretold. After the offices are gone through, the cross is placed on the ground, supported by a cus.h.i.+on, and all the faithful, from the highest personages of the state down to the meanest subject, bow down before it, kiss it, and leave some piece of money on a plate placed by its side. In the royal chapel of the palace are placed, close to the cross on this occasion, the files of the proceedings against criminals who have been condemned to die. The sovereign, in the act of adoration, takes into his hands one of those files, which signifies the granting a pardon to the culprit whose trial it contains. There is a pleasing anecdote related of the young Queen Isabella II., that, being but a girl when she for the first time took a part in this ceremony, and on being informed of its signification, she took up _all_ the files placed before her; by which act of grace a free pardon was extended to all the delinquents. {98}

During the whole night of Thursday until the Friday, the faithful go about the streets in numerous companies visiting the different monuments.

Every foreigner who is present at these peregrinations would take Spaniards for the most devout people in the world. The whole population are at that time circulating through the streets. The use of coaches or other vehicles is prohibited, and the churches are never empty. The different regiments of the army, the functionaries of the tribunals, and every public body, all these visit the monuments headed by their respective chiefs. The queen sets the example, accompanied by all the n.o.bility, her ministers, and all the high officers of state. A sedan chair of great magnificence is carried in the rear for her Majesty's use, in case she should become fatigued.

On the Sat.u.r.day after Good Friday only one ma.s.s is said, viz., high ma.s.s, after the consecration of the oils and blessing the water for the service of the daily ablutions of the faithful. This ma.s.s is dedicated to the resurrection, and its rites have a character really striking and romantic. When the offices commence, the altar is entirely covered with a black veil, the church is in darkness, and not a single light to be seen in the whole s.p.a.ce. But on the intonation of the _Gloria in excelsis Deo_, the veil divides itself into two parts, and is drawn to the sides, which operation, suddenly performed, discloses hundreds of lights and a most splendid profusion of ornaments. Then the bells, which have been silent for the two preceding days, are set a-ringing,-pigeons are let off upon the wing,-every one makes the greatest possible noise, striking the benches of the church, firing rockets within its walls, and salvos of artillery in the squares. Some churches enjoy the privilege of saying only low ma.s.ses (_misas rezadas_) on this day.

We have spoken of the obligation of all to hear ma.s.s on Sundays and feast-days; and we should add that this is the only act of devotion required from Spaniards on those days. By the words, "observe the feasts," is understood, in Spain, that after joining in the ma.s.s, as before stated, believers are at liberty to dedicate the day to every species of diversion and profanity. In France and in England, it is obligatory also to attend vespers on the Sundays. Not so, however, in Spain, where, in the evenings, scarcely a person is to be seen in the churches.

All truly religious men who read the foregoing remarks, and in which there is not the least exaggeration or departure from the truth, will imagine, doubtless, that the modern ecclesiastical authorities of the peninsula have, at least, attempted to rectify all that is absurd and irreverent in those practices, and to strip a ceremony so august and imposing as that of the ma.s.s of all that a want of true devotion, and that ignorance and neglect on the part of the clergy, has introduced to that ceremony,-nevertheless it is not so; the clergy themselves appear to co-operate in those attempts to pervert the ideas of the nation. The proof of it is, that being ordered by all the councils, especially that of Trent, to preach a sermon, during the high ma.s.s, explaining the gospel for the day, as is done in all other Roman Catholic countries, yet in Spain no such practice is observed, except in poor and small towns; so that the Spaniard is not only wanting of that spiritual aliment which the reading of the Bible is able to furnish, but also of a person to explain those parts of Scripture which he has been hearing read, and in a strange language, during the ma.s.s. Preaching, as has already been stated in our introductory chapter, is in Spain reduced to panegyrics on the saints, and to Lent-sermons,-which, in truth, have only reference to the gospel for the day; and although this spiritual food is administered but seldom and in small quant.i.ties, that is to say, eight or ten times from Ash-Wednesday until Palm-Sunday, there is no doubt whatever of its beneficial effects, and that by its means some temporal improvement in the habits of the people evidently results from it. But, that season over, the flock is abandoned by the shepherd, these slight impressions wear off, and the people return to the same G.o.dless and mundane system of life.

In the cathedral church of Toledo there is a particular chapel in which the ma.s.s is celebrated, according to the rite called Mozarabe, introduced, as its name indicates, in the time of the occupation by the Moors, by the Christians who lived under their yoke in that city. The Roman Catholic ritual having been made prevalent all over the peninsula by the Great Isabella, and adopted in all the churches, the faithful of Toledo still wished to preserve that form of ritual which they had practised for many centuries. Although this portion of Spain's ecclesiastical history is wrapt in great obscurity, and has given rise to many disputes among learned men, yet it is certain that in order to decide between that authority which wished to extinguish those remains of antiquity, and the people who desired to preserve them, recourse was had to what then went by the name of "the judgment of G.o.d," viz., a formal duel, attended with all the ceremonies which the feudal system had imported into Europe. The partisans of the Roman ritual placed their defence of it in the hands of one knight-errant, and those of the opposite party confided theirs to the care of another. He who defended the Roman rite was conquered in the fight; and although the conditions of the combat were not entirely observed, because the cathedral and the other churches of Toledo were, after all, reduced to the authority of the Pope, yet a chapter of canons was inst.i.tuted, to whom was conceded the privilege of saying ma.s.s according to the ritual of the conquerors.

CHAPTER V.

DEVOTION of Protestants scriptural and reasonable-That of Roman Catholics poetical and affectionate-Religious enthusiasm leads to insanity-Mental devotion as distinguished from physical-Nature of Roman Catholic devotion accounted for by the wors.h.i.+p of images-Intercession of saints-Saint Anthony-The illiterate guided by bodily vision rather than spiritual discernment-Horace confirms this-Ill.u.s.trated by popular errors-Sensual and poetical elements were introduced to devotion by the Greeks-Destruction of images by the Emperor Leo the Iconoclast-Opinion of Pope Leo the Great-Images adorned like human beings perplex the mind between truth and fiction-Familiar examples-Money-contributions for adornment of images-Belief that saints can cure certain complaints-List of these-Saint Anthony of Padua's miracles-The fete of _San Anton Abad_-Virgin Mary, and her innumerable advocations-A list of several-The Rosary-Statues of the Virgin-Immense value of their wardrobes and trinkets-The most ugly of those statues excite most devotion-Virgin of Zaragoza-The heart of Mary-Month of Mary (May)-Kissing images-Anecdote of the Duke of A--- and his courtezan-Habits and promises-Penance.

Devotion in Roman Catholicism is totally distinct in its essence from that of Protestantism. The devotion of Protestants is scriptural and reasonable; that of Roman Catholics poetical and affectionate. The Protestant considers G.o.d as a spiritual being, and, as such, incomprehensible, the only object of wors.h.i.+p, the only fountain of grace and pardon. The Roman Catholic represents the Eternal in material forms, accessible only through the indirect medium of intercession, and addresses him with the familiarity and tenderness peculiar to the human relations between a father and a son. In prayer the truly devout Roman Catholic weeps, afflicts himself, gesticulates, touches the ground with his forehead, kisses it, strikes his breast, and reveals, by his whole physiognomy and exterior actions, a vehemence and intensity which his physical frame appears scarcely able to sustain. His prayers are full of poetical exclamations, which are called _jaculatorias_; and in addressing the object of his devotion, he feels more complacency in acc.u.mulating sonorous epithets, and in repeating groans and sighs, than in imploring, by properly-constructed and continuous phrases, the protection and mercy of the Almighty. Roman Catholic devotion gives a perfect idea of ecstasy, and shows that religious enthusiasm, carried to the utmost extreme, agitates the nervous system, and produces effects very similar to those of mental abstraction; and, in truth, in those asylums provided for the insane, we find many of their inmates to be persons who have fallen into that deplorable state through religious enthusiasm. There are other cases in which these excesses in devotion have ended in catalepsy; and some of those women who have been celebrated for the supernatural state in which it has been pretended they lived for many years, without food, and insensible to all external impressions, have been rather the unhappy victims of mental disease than the instruments of wilful imposture.

Perhaps some one may ask why, seeing that the mysterious principles of the Roman Catholic faith and those of the Protestants are equal, there should be so much difference in their devotional characters, the one being opposed to the other? why in the one case it is entirely mental, while the other largely partic.i.p.ates in a physical nature? why in Protestant devotion there is thinking and reflection, while in that of Roman Catholics all is feeling and affection? The problem is resolved in a single expression,-the wors.h.i.+p of images.

This practice, which neither the fathers nor the councils have enforced or authorised to the extent to which it has been carried by modern Roman Catholics, and especially by Spaniards, exercises so powerful an influence, or rather so irresistible an imperium, over the mind of man, that it entirely perverts his reason, and radically extinguishes in it the difference between the spiritual and the physical world. This great enigma, the solution of which the Eternal has, in his wisdom, reserved from mortal creatures, loses all its obscurity and ceases to be a mystery to the man who converses with a figure made of wood or painted on canvas; for he not only believes that it sees him, but that it can protect him, grant him favours, and even obtain for him salvation. In vain it will be said that the Roman Catholic sees in the image a symbol, an emblem, a representation. It is not so. In his eyes the image is the saint itself, and therefore he adorns it, covers it with splendid attire, surrounds it with flowers and with lights, kneels down before it, confides to it his griefs, and asks its intercession. If the object of veneration and of wors.h.i.+p were the saint itself,-that is to say, a beatified spirit, which is supposed to dwell in heaven, and there enjoy the favour of the Eternal Being,-the prayer made and the homage rendered would be to that pure essence, and would be purged of all the external accidents of humanity. But not so do Roman Catholics generally pray. In order to pray it is necessary for them to have a material object; they must enter with that object into similar relations as those which exist between man and man; they must bring down the saint to their own level, instead of endeavouring to lift up themselves to the level of the saint, by means of a communication purely spiritual.

The proof of this is, that, among the images which represent the same original and the same type, there are some which are believed to have more power, and to be capable of working more miracles, than others. The Saint Antonio, for example, which is venerated in one church in Madrid, called La Florida, is much more popular than the Saint Antonio venerated in another, called the Church de los Portugueses. In Burgos there is a crucifix to which infinitely more solemn wors.h.i.+p is paid than to one in any parish church, or even in any chapel of the same city. The popes have encouraged this absurd aberration of the human mind, by conceding, and permitting the bishops to concede, indulgences to certain statues, certain pictures, and even certain engravings, which represent objects of devotion. The person who prays in front of that favoured object gains so many years of indulgences; he who prays to the same saint, but before another statue, another picture, or another engraving, obtains nothing.

Of course, all these concessions which are obtained are paid for in ready money.

Now to the point. Are not these means the most efficacious that can be imagined in order to materialise religion, and to subjugate it entirely to the senses? Is it not infinitely more easy and shorter, especially for rude and illiterate men, to believe in what they actually see, than in any metaphysical notions, far above the reach of their understanding, like those of a spiritual kind? From very ancient times it has been thought that the impressions which the mind receives through the medium of sight, are more striking and efficacious than those which are communicated to it by all the other organs of the senses. Horace has followed out this idea in his well-known lines:-

"Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, et quae Ipsi sibi tradit spectator."

_De Ar. Poe._, 180.

Thus it is explained why men imagined for many centuries that the sky was a solid superficies, and that the earth was a superficial plane, bounded by the horizon; that the sun moved round the earth; that the existence of the antipodes was a chimera; that the dew fell in the same way as the rain from the upper regions of the atmosphere; and other popular errors which science has corrected, but which were in a certain way justified by the undeniable testimony of the senses. How difficult then is it, on such evidence, to doubt the existence of a soul in a human representation to which one speaks as to a person alive, and to which are tendered all marks of respect and veneration, and before whom even the priests, those masters of the people and depositaries of all true doctrine, kneel down as would a son before his father, a subject before his sovereign, and a culprit before his judge? Who would forbid this delusion to that simple and ignorant mind, whose relations with the exterior world form the only source of all his knowledge and all his feelings?

The Christian religion, purely spiritual in its dogmas and practices, never would have admitted into them this profanation of their sublime essence, if the Greek empire, by virtue of the great religious revolution conducted by Constantine, had not been placed at the head of Christendom.

But the Greek Christians were descendants of those who had condemned Socrates, and had not been purged, nor have they yet been purged, of their sensual propensities, of their artistic tastes, and of their attachment to whatever is pompous and ornamental. When the Emperor Leo wished to uproot this abuse, and ordered the images venerated in the temples to be destroyed, his orders were executed with so much imprudence and cruelty, and the persecution raised against those who partic.i.p.ated in the common error was conducted in so sanguinary and implacable a manner, that the general opinion rose against the new doctrine, and the name of _iconoclast_ denoted in that day one of the most odious forms of heresy, and one most severely condemned by the apostolical see. {107}

The Latin Church was long preserved from that contagion. When John, the patriarch of Alexandria, consulted the great Pope Leo, whether it would be right to adorn the Christian temples with pictures representing pious objects, that eminent man answered him, that he could only be permitted to have the representations of the historical facts related in the Bible, in order that those believers who were unable to read might in this way instruct themselves in sacred history, but that great care must be taken that such a practice might not degenerate into idolatry.

We have already mentioned the fact that the Council of Granada prohibited the wors.h.i.+p of images; but when the thrones founded by the invading nations of the north became settled, their monarchs-men profoundly ignorant, and exclusively devoted to war and conquest-placed their consciences and the direction of public affairs in the hands of the clergy, who were then the monopolisers of learning and literature. The clergy spared no means of consolidating their power, and it was their interest to brutalise the people, in order to domineer over them with the greater facility; and nothing could contribute more certainly to carry out that view than the puerilities of a wors.h.i.+p solely limited to the adoration of the physical man. The pageantry of processions, the jewels, the splendid vestments and ornaments with which their images were covered, the miracles attributed to them, and the incense burned on their altars, were so many other soporiferous drugs administered to the understanding to lull its energy, and deprive it of every devoted thought and of all liberty of examination. There is, moreover, in the representation of a human being of the size and colour of life, a certain character of reality, which at first sight cannot do less than make a profound impression on the mind, leaving it for a time in a state of some perplexity between truth and fiction. That immovable att.i.tude, those fixed eyes, those features which never alter the expression of the grief or the joy impressed upon them by the hand of the artist, have in themselves something of the awful and mysterious, which powerfully affects us, despite our reason and experience. How many persons are there who could look, without shuddering, on the statue of Fieschi, the celebrated French murderer, in the collection of Madame Tussaud? How many, on coming out from the chamber of horrors, in the same establishment, resolve and vow never to go into it again? How many, who would not, for any money, pa.s.s a night in the apartment in which these disagreeable objects are exhibited? And to what extreme may not that imperium extend, which these works of art exercise on the imagination, if, in addition to their resemblances to nature, superst.i.tion endows them with a supernatural power, and when reason persuades us that they hear what we say to them,-that they receive our homage, and are able to favour us with their protection?

But the Roman Catholic clergy have had another motive for promoting a belief in such things, viz., the immense wealth which they draw from them in the name of oblations, alms, and legacies. To contribute money to the adornment of a saint, and to the celebration of rites which are consecrated to it, is a meritorious work, which ensures its protection to the contributor. By this fiction the people have been made to believe that every human complaint, every one of the misfortunes that can occur in life, depends on some particular saint who defends their respective devotees against it. Saint Ramon favours women in the season of parturition; Saint Demas preserves travellers on their journeys from robbers; Saint Apollonius cures the toothache; Saint Lucy heals diseases of the eyes; Saint Lazarus cures the leprosy; Saint Roque the plague; Saint Joseph protects carpenters; Saint Casia.n.u.s and Saint Nicholas preserve children; Saint Luis Gonzaga, young people; Saint Hermenegild, soldiers; Saint Thomas Aquinas, students; Saint Gloi, silversmiths; and Saint Rita, superior to all the celestial court, obtains, by her mediation, the _realization of impossibilities_! {110}

And yet, after all, the most popular of all the saints which the power of the Vatican has placed on its altars is Saint Anthony of Padua. The miracles which he wrought in his life are quite out of the ordinary course, and some of them appear rather preposterous and ludicrous to the incredulous. On one occasion, when he was preaching by the sea-sh.o.r.e, and his audience had gone away, the fishes came out to hear him.

Whenever he was present at a banquet, and a plate or a soup tureen was accidentally broken, he joined the fragments so completely together that the piece recovered its former integrity. The superior of his convent forbade him to perform miracles; but, one day, seeing a man falling from a high tower, he ordered him to remain suspended in the air until the superior should give the saint permission to let him fall without injury.

The devotees of Saint Anthony treat him with great familiarity, and even punish him when he does not satisfy their desires. When they wish to obtain some favour from his protection,-for example, to draw a prize in a lottery, to find a lost cow, or to find a husband for a damsel,-they burn tapers before his image, and adorn it with flowers. If they do not still obtain his favour, they place the image with its face towards the wall, in the darkest corner of the house, and even treat it with other indignities, of which decency forbids the mention.

The solemnity of the day of San Anton Abad, the protector of all horses and mules, is of a different kind, and is considered as one of the most noisy and brilliant of all public amus.e.m.e.nts. The equestrians of the city, mounted on their steeds, which, on this occasion, are splendidly caparisoned, give three gallops round the church dedicated to the saint, and, on finis.h.i.+ng the third, they receive from the hands of the priest the blessed barley, which is designed that night as provender for their happy animals. The streets are filled with people anxious to witness this grand exhibition of luxury and of horsemans.h.i.+p, and the balconies are filled with ladies, whose plaudits compensate the dexterity of the heroes of the feast, or rather of the day.

But of all the devotions of Spaniards, none is so general, none so fervent, none so varied in its forms and ceremonies, as that which has for its object the mother of the Saviour. All travellers know that Spain is the cla.s.sic country of _Mariolatry_; and certainly, if we could divest it of the idea of intercession, which is its foundation, we should find in it much of the poetical, the affectionate, and much of a.n.a.logy to the temper of a people in which the imagination predominates, and which still preserves many traits of the knightly spirit of its progenitors. Mary is, in the estimation of Spaniards, a tender mother, the confidante of all their woes, and the support of all their hopes. In their prayers to her, they are prodigal of the most expressive epithets of endearment and admiration. They call her the spouse of the Holy Spirit, the door of heaven, the star of the morning, the tower of David, the tower of ivory, the house of gold, the ark of the covenant, the health of the sick, the queen of heaven, the queen of angels, of prophets, of apostles, of martyrs, and of virgins. We will not do Spaniards the injustice of suspecting them capable of believing that Mary is superior to G.o.d in power, but there is no doubt that there are in that country many benighted souls who, when they have addressed their prayers to G.o.d, asking some special favour which has not been granted, have recourse to the Virgin under a persuasion that through her means they shall obtain it. Innumerable authors of religious books have written, and it has daily been repeated from the pulpits, that the Virgin never denies a favour to her devotees; that in the mere fact of being her wors.h.i.+ppers, they have salvation a.s.sured to them; and that it is enough to implore her by name, in order to preserve both body and soul from all danger. "Hail, most immaculate Mary!" (_ave Maria purisuma_) is the formula with which a visitor salutes persons in a house, and the response is, "conceived without sin" (_sin pecado concebida_) {113} These words are engraven on the facades of many public buildings and private houses. They are used also by way of exclamation in familiar conversation, in order to express surprise and admiration. Relate to a Spaniard some extraordinary act,-as, for example, a murder, an incendiarism, an earthquake,-and you will hear him exclaim, "Ave Maria!" just as an Englishman would say, "Dear me, is it possible? You don't say so!" Such is the prestige that hovers about the name of the Virgin in the national customs of Spain.

Although the Virgin is in the eyes of Spaniards but an only being, and although they do not believe that there is more than one mother of G.o.d, yet the devotion which they tender to her is diversified in its forms according to the various _advocations_ which the clergy have invented, which the popes have sanctioned, and to which the liturgy has given an official character. But the word _advocation_ extends itself to a special name, a name significant of that with which the name of the Virgin is coupled, and which is sometimes derived from the facts in her history, from the endowments of her mind, or from the places in which her image has miraculously appeared. To the first cla.s.s pertain the Virgin of the Nativity, the Virgin of Candlemas, the Virgin of the a.s.sumption, the Virgin of Griefs, the Virgin of the Seven Griefs; the Virgin of Anguish or Agonies; and the Virgin of Solitude. To the second cla.s.s, the Virgin of the Conception, of the Rosary, of Mercy, of Remedies, and of Pity. To the third cla.s.s, the Virgin of Carmen, of Zaragoza, of Guadaloupe, of Copacabana, of Olivia de la Victoria, of Penacerada, of Regla, of Cavadoraga, of Montserrat, of Nieves, of Fousanta, of Atocha, {115} and innumerable other places.

The Virgin of the Rosary is so called, because it is before her image that her devotees pray the rosary. This pious exercise consists in a paternoster and ten _Ave Marias_, repeated five times. The advocations of the Virgin _de las Carretas_, the Virgin of the Dew, and some others, are of an origin now unknown. In truth, this multiplication of the same religious type has no fixed limits.

But the most extraordinary thing in this peculiarity of Roman Catholic wors.h.i.+p is, that not only is the Virgin not wors.h.i.+pped at all without some one of these t.i.tles which a mistaken piety has conferred upon her, but that every one of these t.i.tles has a particular cla.s.s of persons singled out from among the faithful, so that some are the devotees of one Virgin and some of another; and they who profess such devotion, for example, to the Virgin of the Rosary, never pray to the Virgin of Griefs.

To such a point does this exclusive affection arrive, that the devotees are apt to dispute among themselves as to the respective merits of the advocations to which each consecrates his wors.h.i.+p. In some cities and towns the inhabitants are divided into parties, some defending one Virgin, and some another, which state of discord has resulted in angry disputes, animosities, and even acts of violence.

The statues of the Virgin are of two cla.s.ses; some are made entirely of wood, including the draperies. Among these are some of superior merit.

{116} Others have only the head and hands of sculpture, the rest being only a kind of frame-work, fit to support the dress, which is made of worked velvet and other rich textures.

The statues consecrated to a popular advocation have immense treasures, consisting of clothes, of crowns and collars, bracelets, and other trinkets, brilliants, pearls, emeralds, and other precious stones. The custody of these things is confided to one of the princ.i.p.al ladies of the city, and she is called the mistress of the robes to the Virgin (_camarera mayor de la Virgin_), and it is her duty, a.s.sisted by other ladies of inferior degree in the sacred household, to dress and undress the statue, varying the costume and ornaments according to the solemnity of the day.

Some few of those advocations require particular colours to be observed in the vestments appropriated to the respective statues; the Virgin of Carmen, for example, must be dressed in white and dark grey; that of the Conception in white and blue; that of Griefs in blue and red; that of Solitude in white and black, and so on. The greater number of those statues of the Virgin have in their arms a figure of the infant Christ.

It is worthy of remark, that the images which most excite devotion are generally those which are most ugly and most disproportionate. The Virgin of Zaragoza, the devotion of all Spain to which touches the borders of enthusiasm, and on which statue Ferdinand VII. conferred the office of field marshal (_capitan general_), is very small, and has the appearance of a carbonised mummy.

Roman Catholics, not satisfied with this indefinite multiplication of the personality of the Virgin, this innumerable variety of names and attributes ascribed to the same individuality, have gone a step farther, and wors.h.i.+pped one part of her body separately from the rest; and this singular idea has given birth to another, viz., "devotion to the heart of Mary,"-recently adopted in France, propagated in all the Papal dominions, converted into an especial rite which the Church of Rome celebrates with ma.s.s, vespers, and other services comprised in the missal and the breviary. If, by the words, "heart of Mary," is to be understood that muscle which serves as the centre of the circulation of the blood, or the common metaphor which attributes to the heart the affections, the desires, and all the other acts of the will, it is a mystery which hitherto has not been explained either by the Roman Catholic church, or any of the devotional books which have been written on the subject,-it is a dilemma from which Roman Catholics never will be able to escape; and, in the first case, nothing can be more preposterous than to divide adoration between the entire person and one of its parts; and, in the second case, the object of adoration is reduced to a mere verbal artifice, depending on vulgar custom or on the caprice of men. If the heart of the Virgin is adored under a supposition that it is the centre of the most pure and virtuous sentiments, why has there not been adoration of her head, which is supposed to be nourished with n.o.ble and elevated thoughts? Why not her womb, in which lay the Saviour of the world? Why not her hands, which nursed him, and performed all those various acts and offices which are dictated by maternal solicitude?

The practice of consecrating the month of May to the Virgin, and designating it the month of Mary, has the same origin, and been in the same way brought into general use in the Roman Catholic world. The religious feasts of those thirty-one days have a certain character of splendour and of gladness, which makes them resemble those of the Greeks and Romans consecrated to Flora. The altars, on which is placed the image of the Virgin, are adorned with an extraordinary profusion of feathers, flowers, rich silks, and precious jewels; the smoke of incense ascends perpetually before the image; the temples are illuminated by numerous candles, chandeliers, tapers; troops of women, dressed in white, surround the image; and the most celebrated singers from the public theatres chant hymns to the accompaniment of the organ and a numerous orchestra. Enough has been said to enable the reader to perceive the strict a.n.a.logy that exists between the wors.h.i.+p of saints and true idolatry; but still, Spaniards have carried the personification of these fragile works of men's hands far beyond the idolatries of ancient and modern times. Not content with addressing words to them, as if they possessed intelligence and the sense of hearing, they kiss their feet and their hands, as though the marble, the plaster, or the wood, of which they are made, were sensible of these demonstrations of tenderness. To kiss an image is an act of merit which confessors recommend, and one to which the popes have conceded spiritual privileges.

There is an anecdote related in Madrid, which proves to what an extreme vices deserving the severest censure may be a.s.sociated with the grossest superst.i.tion. There was in that capital, towards the end of the reign of Charles IV., a grandee of Spain, the Duke of A---, who professed especial devotion to an image of the Virgin, which he was continually kissing.

Having taken under his protection a notorious courtesan, whose house he furnished sumptuously, he ordered an image of the Virgin to be placed in a corner of the staircase, which he never ascended without bestowing his accustomed tokens of affection upon that representation of the object of his devotion. One day, however, the favoured paramour had capriciously elevated the image far above the reach of the lips of her protector.

Deprived of the exercise of his daily ceremony, the duke contented himself with throwing up his handkerchief against the image, and on its descent kissing it as an object which had been blessed by its mere contact with the idol!

We could adduce several other proofs of the belief, prevalent in the minds of Spaniards, that images can exercise many of the faculties of animate objects, and therefore are capable of reciprocal intercourse in the same way as living persons. For example, if it is intended that an immoral act shall be committed before a picture, or a piece of sculpture, representing the Virgin or any saint, in the first case it is turned towards the wall; or, in the second, it is covered over with a sheet, in order that it may not be a witness of the sin. In asking a favour of an image, it is a common practice for the devotee, in order to propitiate it, to inflict upon himself some punishment or privation; such, for example, as that of absenting himself from the theatre, or the bullfights (_corridas de toros_), abstaining from eating dessert, or from going to the promenade, b.a.l.l.s, and routs. This is called making _a promise_. To wear the habit (_llevar habito_) signifies to dress modestly, and in clothes of a dark colour, and without any ornaments, until the desired favour from the image be obtained, and, at the same time, wearing a medal of the Virgin on the arm. Those persons who desire to carry these acts of penance and mortification to a greater degree of perfection, adopt much severer practices and even more painful, such as putting hard peas into their shoes, wearing _cilicios_,-which are belts made of hogs'