Strasbourg.
The cathedral of Strasbourg is a very fine building, and never fails to
attract the attention of strangers.
Our Gothic ancestors, like the Greeks and Romans, built for posterity.
Their ideas in architecture, though different from those of the Grecian
artists, were vast, sublime, and generous, far superior to the selfish
snugness of modern taste, which is generally confined to one or two
generations; the plans of our ancestors with a more extensive benevolence
embrace distant ages. Many Gothic buildings still habitable evince this,
and ought to inspire sentiments of gratitude to those who have not
grudged such labour and expence for the accommodation of their remote
posterity.
The number and magnitude of Gothic churches, in the different countries
of Europe, form a presumption, that the clergy were not devoid of public
spirit in those days; for if the powerful ecclesiastics had then been
entirely actuated by motives of self-interest, they would have turned
the excessive influence which they had acquired over the minds of their
fellow-citizens, to purposes more immediately advantageous to themselves;
instead of encouraging them to raise magnificent churches for the use of
the public, they might have preached it up as still more meritorious to
build fine houses and palaces for the immediate servants and ambassadors
of God.—But we find very few ecclesiastical palaces, in comparison with
the number of churches which still remain for the public conveniency.
This sufficiently shows the injustice of those indiscriminating
satirists, who assert that the clergy in all ages and countries have
displayed a spirit equally proud and interested.
No species of architecture is better contrived for the dwelling of
_heavenly pensive contemplation_, than the Gothic; it has a powerful
tendency to fill the mind with sublime, solemn, and religious sentiments;
the antiquity of the Gothic churches contributes to increase that
veneration which their form and size inspire. We naturally feel a respect
for a fabric into which we know that our forefathers have entered with
reverence, and which has stood the assaults of many centuries, and of a
thousand storms. That religious melancholy which usually possesses the
mind in large Gothic churches, is however considerably counteracted by
certain satirical bas reliefs with which the pillars and cornices of this
church of Strasbourg was originally ornamented.—The vices of monks are
here exposed under the allegorical figure of hogs, asses, monkies, and
foxes, which being dressed in monkish habits, perform the most venerable
functions of religion. And for the edification of those who do not
comprehend allegory, a monk in the robes of his order, is engraved on the
pulpit in a most indecent posture, with a nun lying by him.
Upon the whole, the cathedral of Strasbourg is considered by some people
as the most impious, and by others as the merriest Gothic church in
Christendom. I leave you to solve the problem as you please.—As for me, I
am a very unconcerned passenger.
I say nothing of the great clock and its various movements. Though it
was an object of admiration when first constructed, it is beheld with
indifference by modern artists.
I had the curiosity to ascend the steeple of this cathedral, which is
reckoned one of the highest in Europe, its height being 574 feet. You may
easily form an idea of the view from it, when I tell you it comprehends
the town of Strasbourg, the extensive plains of Alsace, with the Rhine
flowing through them. Such views are not uncommon: They are always
agreeable, but do not astonish and elevate the mind, like the wild,
irregular, and sublime scenes in Switzerland.
One forenoon as I was sauntering through the streets with some of our
countrymen, we were informed that the music of some of the regiments
had been ordered to a particular church, where the Count de ——, son of
Lewis the XVth by Madam de Pompadour, was expected to be at mass.—We
all immediately went for the sake of the military music, and found
a very numerous and genteel company attending. After having waited
a considerable time, it struck twelve, upon which the whole company
retired, without hearing the music or mass.—After mid-day the ceremony
could not have been performed, although the Count had come. Something
very important must have intervened to prevent a Frenchman, and one of
his character for politeness, from attending on such an occasion. There
was however a murmur of disapprobation for this want of attention, and
the priest was not applauded, who had hazarded the souls of a whole
churchful of people, out of complaisance to one man; for those who
imagine that a mass can save souls, must admit that the want of it may be
the cause of damnation. Mr. H——y whispered me, “In England they would not
have had half the complaisance for the king himself, accompanied by all
his legitimate children, that these people have shewn to this son of a
w—e.”
To indemnify myself for this disappointment, I went the same afternoon
with a French officer to hear a celebrated preacher. The subject of his
discourse was the miserable situation of men who were under the dominion
of their passions.—Do you wish for a sample of his discourse?—Here it
is:—“A slave in the galleys (cried the preacher) is happier, and more
free, than a man under the tyranny of his passions; for though the body
of the slave is in chains, his mind may be free.—Whereas the wretch who
is under the government of his passions, has his mind, his very soul,
in chains.—Is his passion lust?—He will sacrifice a faithful servant to
gratify it;—David did so. Is it avarice?—he will betray his master;—Judas
did so.—Is he attached to a mistress?—he will murder a saint to please
her;—Herod did so.”
As we returned from the church, the French officer, who had been for
some time in a reverie, said, Ma foi, cet homme parle avec beaucoup
d’onction; je vais profiter de son sermon.—Où est-ce que vous allez?
said I.—Je m’en vais chez Nanette, replied he, pour me débarrasser de ma
passion dominante.
Among the curiosities of the cathedral, I ought to have mentioned two
large bells, which they show to strangers. One is of brass, and weighs
ten tons; the other of silver, which they say weighs above two.—They also
show a large French horn, whose history is as follows.—About four hundred
years ago, the Jews formed a conspiracy to betray the city, and with this
identical horn, they intended to give the enemy notice when to begin the
attack.
Is it not amazing that such a number of strange stories have been
circulated concerning these same Jews?
The plot, however, was discovered; many of the Jews were burnt alive, the
rest were plundered of their money and effects, and banished the town.
And this horn is sounded twice every night from the battlements of the
steeple in gratitude for the deliverance.
The Jews, as you would expect, deny every circumstance of this story,
except the murdering and pillaging their countrymen. They say the whole
story was fabricated to furnish a pretext for these robberies and
murders, and assert that the steeple of Strasbourg, as has been said of
the monument of London,
“Like a tall bully lifts the head and lies.”