_Pere Pascal_ having invited me to high mass, and to hear a Spanish
sermon preached by one of their best orators, we attended; and though I
did not understand the language sufficiently to know all I heard, I
understood enough to be entertained, if not edified. The decency of the
whole congregation too, was truly characteristic of their profession.
There sat just before us a number of lay-brothers, bare-headed, with
their eyes fixed the whole time upon the ground; and tho' they knew we
were strangers, and probably as singular in their eyes as they could be
in ours, I never perceived one of them, either at or after the service
was over, to look, or even glance an eye at us. The chapel, or church of
this convent, is a very noble building; and high over the great altar is
fixed the image of the Virgin, which was found eight hundred years ago
in a deep cave on the side of the mountain: they say the figure is the
work of St. Luke; if that be true, St. Luke was a better carver than a
painter, for this figure is the work of no contemptible artist; it is of
wood, and of a dark-brown it is of wood, and of a dark-brown or rather
black colour, about the size of a girl of twelve years of age; her
garments are very costly, and she had on a crown richly adorned with
_real_ jewels of great value; and I believe, except our Lady of
_Loretto_, the paraphernalia of her person is superior to all the saints
or crowned heads in Europe. She holds on her knees a little Jesus, of
the same complexion, and the work of the same artist. The high altar is
a most magnificent and costly structure, and there constantly burn
before it upwards of fourscore large silver lamps. The balustrades
before the altar were given by King Philip the Third, and cost seven
thousand crowns; and it cost fourteen thousand more to cut away the rock
to lay the foundation of this new church, the old one being so small,
and often so crowded by pilgrims and strangers, that many of the monks
lost their lives in it every year. The whole expence of building the new
one, exclusive of the inward ornaments, is computed at a million of
crowns; and the seats of the choir, six and thirty thousand livres. The
old church has nothing very remarkable in it but some good ancient
monuments, one of which is of _Bernard Villomarin_, Admiral of Naples; a
man (as the inscription says) illustrious in peace and war. There is
another of _Don John d'Arragon, Dux Lunæ_, who died in 1528; he was
nephew to King Ferdinand. But the most singular inscription in this old
church is one engraven on a pillar, under which _St. Ignatius_ spent a
whole night in prayer before he took the resolution of renouncing the
world, which was in the year 1522.
After mass was over, we were shewn into a chamber behind the high altar,
where a door opened to the recess, in which the Virgin is placed, and
where we were permitted, or rather required to kiss her hand. At the
same time, I perceived a great many pilgrims entering the apartments,
whose penitential faces plainly discovered the reverence and devotion
with which they approached her sacred presence. When we returned, we
were presented to the Prior; a lively, genteel man, of good address;
who, with _Pere Tendre_, the Frenchman, shewed us an infinite quantity
of jewels, vessels of gold and silver, garments, &c. which have been
presented by Kings, Queens, and Emperors, to the convent, for the
purpose of arraying this miraculous image. I begin to suspect that you
will think I am become half a Catholic;--indeed, I begin to think so
myself; and if ever I publicly renounce that faith which I now hold, it
shall be done in a pilgrimage to _Montserrat_; for I do not see why God,
who delights so much in variety, as all his mighty works testify; who
has not made two green leaves of the same tint,--may not, nay, ought
not to be worshipped by men of different nations, in variety of forms. I
see no absurdity in a set of men meeting as the Quakers do, and sitting
in silent contemplation, reflecting on the errors of their past life,
and resolving to amend in future. I think an honest, good Quaker, as
respectable a being as an Archbishop; and a monk, or a hermit, who think
they merit heaven by the sacrifice they make for it, will certainly
obtain it: and as I am persuaded the men of this society think so, I
highly honour and respect them: I am sure I feel myself much obliged to
them. They have a good library, but it is in great disorder; nor do I
believe they are men of much reading; indeed, they are so employed in
confessing the pilgrims and poor, that they cannot have much time for
study.
I forgot to tell you, that at _Narbonne_ I had been accosted by a young
genteel couple, a male and female, who were upon a _pilgrimage_; they
were dressed rather neat than fine, and their garments were adorned with
cockle and other marine shells; such, indeed, all the poorer sort of
pilgrims are characterised with. They presented a tin box to me, with
much address, but said nothing, nor did I give them any thing; indeed, I
did not _then_ know, very well, for what purpose or use the charity they
claimed was to be applied. This young couple were among the strangers
who were now approaching the sacred image. I was very desirous of
knowing their story, who they were, and what sins people so young, and
who looked so good, had been guilty of, to think it necessary to come so
far for absolution. _Their sins on the road_, I could be at no loss to
guess at; and as they were such as people who love one another are very
apt to commit, I hope and believe, they will obtain forgiveness of
them.--They were either people of some condition, or very accomplished
_Chevaliers d'Industrie_; though I am most inclined to believe, they
were _brother and sister_, of some condition.
After visiting the Holy Virgin, I paid my respects to the several monks
in their own apartments, under the conduct of _Pere Pascal_, and was
greatly entertained.--I found them excellently lodged; their apartments
had no finery, but every useful convenience; and several good
harpsichords, as well as good performers, beside an excellent organist.
The Prior, in particular, has so much address, of the polite world about
him, that he must have lived in it before he made a vow to retire from
it.
I never saw a more striking instance of national influence than in the
person of _Pere Tendre_, the Frenchman!--In spite of his holy life, and
living among Spaniards of the utmost gravity of manners, I could have
known him at first sight to have been a Frenchman. I never saw, even
upon the _Boulevards_ at Paris, a more lively, animated, or chearful
face.
Indeed, one must believe, that these men are as good as they appear to
be; for they have reason enough to believe, that every hour may be their
last, as there hangs over their whole building such a terrifying mass of
rock and pine heads, so split and divided, that it is difficult to
perceive by what powers they are sustained: many have given way, and
have no other support than the base they have made by slipping in part
down, among the smaller rocks and broken fragments. About an hundred
years ago, one vast block fell from above, and buried under it the
hospital, and all the sick and their attendants; and where it still
remains, a dreadful monument, and memento, to all who dwell near it!--I
should fear (God avert the day!) that the smallest degree of an
earthquake would bury all the convent, monks, and treasure, by one fatal
_coup_.