He described
the picture by Valdes Leal, in a certain place at Seville, which
represents a priest at the altar; and the altar is sumptuous with gilt
and florid carving. He wears a magnificent cope and a surplice of
exquisite lace, but he wears them as though their weight was more than he
could bear; and in the meagre trembling hands, and in the white, ashen
face, in the dark hollowness of the eyes, there is a bodily corruption
that is terrifying. He seems to hold together with difficulty the bonds
of the flesh, but with no eager yearning of the soul to burst its prison,
only with despair; it is as if the Lord Almighty had forsaken him and the
high heavens were empty of their solace. All the beauty of life appears
forgotten, and there is nothing in the world but decay. A ghastly
putrefaction has attacked already the living man; the worms of the grave,
the piteous horror of mortality, and the darkness before him offer naught
but fear. Beyond, dark night is seen and a turbulent sea, the dark night
of the soul of which the mystics write, and the troublous sea of life
whereon there is no refuge for the weary and the sick at heart.
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