an oblation that it may be offered to God on the altar, who does not taste the fruits of his land till he has consecrated a part of them to God, who offers presents and tithes to churches, that on the judgment day he may be able to say: "Give unto us Lord for we have given unto Thee;" who redeems his soul from punishment, and finally who can repeat the creeds or the Lord's prayer."
Bad as we find their greed, we find their moral corruption indescribably worse. Void of every sting of conscience, drunken, lost in sensuality and open immorality. In Italy, a bishop informs us, that were he to enforce the canons against unchaste people administering ecclesiastical rites, no one would be left in the Church, except the boys. Everywhere, clergymen, sworn to celibacy, take out their "culagium," their license to keep concubines, and more than one council, and more than one ecclesiastical writer we find speaking of priestly corruption far greater than simple concubinage, prominently among whom they mention, Pope John XXIII, abbot elect of St. Augustine, at Canterbury, the abbot of St. Pelayo, in Spain, Henry III Bishop of Liege, and they enumerate the countless nunneries, that are degraded into brothels, and are flagrant for their frequent infanticides.
There is scarcely a need for our reporting concerning the influence, which this moral depravity of the Church has upon the masses. We find that the ignorance and the corruption and the bigotry made the people fully as ignorant and corrupt and vicious. The pernicious doctrine already adopted in the fourth century, that it is an act of virtue to deceive and lie, when by that means the interests of the church might be promoted,[3] leads the people to the conclusion that nothing can be possibly wrong, which leads to the promotion of the Church's interests and finances. And so crimes are perpetrated, wrongs committed, deceptions practiced, vice indulged without a pang of conscience, or a throb of the gentler emotions. Ignorance deadens every finer feeling, and religion, instead, of elevating man's moral nature, crushes it by the opportunities it offers for canceling crime with money, and for saving the soul from eternal torture and damnation by increasing the clergy's opportunities for debauchery.
We next look for the intellectual accomplishments, but we look in vain. The masses are intensely ignorant. The clergy can not instruct them, neither would they, if they could. Knowledge among the masses would have seriously interfered with their all-controlling power, as it really did in later centuries. This ignorance is fully shared by the secular chiefs of the land. Kings repudiate book-learning as unworthy of the crown, and warlike nobles despise it as disgraceful to the sword. It is a rare thing, and not considered an accomplishment, to find a warrior who can read or write. To suppose that he can write is to insult him by mistaking him for an ecclesiastic. No less a personage than Philippe le Bel, the powerful monarch of United France who conducts foreign wars and exterminates the Templars, signs his name with the sign of the cross or a rude arrow head, as late as the thirteenth century. Let us not forget, that nearly three hundred years earlier in the world's history, we had found public schools, academies, universities, libraries, poets, artists, scientists and philosophers flourishing among the Moors and Jews of Cordova—had seen Al Hakem the Caliph, writing a digest on the fly-leaves of the contents of each of his books in his great library.
We next look for the Industries, and there is little to be found that can be honored with that name. A belief prevails among the people that the millenium, the end of the world, will set in, amidst terrible sufferings at the year 1000. This belief stifles industry, and property and wealth are turned over to the Church for the sake of the soul's release. Next come the Crusades and these sap Europe of the flower of its people, who leave by the thousands and hundreds of thousands (and of which numbers but few return), to keep the Moslems out of Jerusalem, while the aged and the infirm, the women and children, eke out a miserable existence at home, feeding on beans, vetches, roots, bark of trees—often horseflesh and mare's milk furnish a delicious repast. During the intervals between the various Crusades those few who return, are so accustomed to their roving and plundering life that it is impossible for them to settle down to mechanical or industrial pursuits.
The Jews devote themselves almost exclusively to the industries, and for this they suffer much. Commerce is not safe. The feudal lords descend from their fortresses to pillage the merchant's goods. The highways are besieged by licensed robbers, who confiscate the merchandise, murder the owners, or sell them as slaves, or exact enormous ransoms. Might makes right, and the most powerful are the most distinguished for their unscrupulous robberies. Their castles, erected on almost inaccessible heights among the pathless woods, become the secure receptacles of predatory bands, who spread terror over the country and make traffic and enterprise insecure and next to impossible. And as it is on land so it is at sea, where a vessel is never secure from an attack of the pirates, and where neither restitution nor punishment of the criminals is obtained from governments, which sometimes fear the plunderer and sometimes connive at the offense.
The political state of Europe we find still worse. The word liberty has not yet found its way into the dictionaries of the people. By far the greater part of society is everywhere bereaved of its personal liberty.
Everyone that is not Noble is a slave. Warfare is the rule of the day. The Church tramples upon kings and nobles; these, in their turn, such is the prestige of the feudal system, tyrannize over the next lower order, the next lower order apes the example of its superior upon its inferior, and so on from lower to lower caste, till the lowest, the peasants, who have sunk into a qualified slavery called serfdom. The fight for supremacy between Church and State, the dreadful oppression of the several orders of feudalism, convulses society with their perennial feuds, the pride of the countries are either cruelly butchered or employed more frequently in laying waste the fields of their rivals, or putting the destructive firebrand, or the ruthless sword upon the prosperity of their foe, than improving their own.
Let this report, meager as it is, suffice. The ignorance and misery and suffering and cruelties that abound everywhere are too revolting to tempt a longer stay. Like Ajax, we pray for light. Away from the jaws of darkness.
Ye sailors, ho! furl your sails, raise the anchor, clear the harbor. And thou goodly vessel, staunch and strong, hie thee straight across the foaming deep. And thou, O Aeolus, blow cheerily and lustily thy southern winds upon us. And thou, O Neptune, speed thou our course, haste us back again to fair Andalusia, to beauteous Cordova, for there is no spot on earth like Cordova, "the city of the seven gates," "the tent of Islam," "the abode of the learned," "the meeting place of the eminent," the city of parks and palaces, aqueducts and public baths, the city of chivalrous knights and enchanting ladies.
Aeolus and Neptune answer our prayer. The goodly ship she spins along. "She walks the waters like a thing of life." Soon the lands we eager seek will be descried, and, once again upon the sunny shore, we shall continue our observations, and freely share them with our friend upon Columbia's virgin soil.
CHAPTER IV.
OUR RETURN TO CORDOVA.
CORDOVA AT DAY-BREAK.—THE MOHAMMEDAN SABBATH.—THE YOUTH OF CORDOVA DISPORTS ITSELF UPON THE WATER.—SONG.—CHALLENGE BETWEEN OARSMAN.—THE MUEZZIN'S CALL.—THE GREAT MOSQUE.—A SERMON.—CHASDAI IBN SHAPRUT, THE JEWISH MINISTER TO THE CALIPH.—DUNASH IBN LABRAT.—ON THE WAY TO ABDALLAH IBN XAMRI, THE MOORISH POET.
Again our light-winged boat glides upon the broad and silvery bosom of the majestic Guadalquiver, along parks filled with flowering shrubs, along glittering palaces and song-resounding woods, along palmy islets, and sweet scented and crimson-tinted hills.
It is an early spring morning, nearly 1,000 years back in the world's history. Our boat makes a sudden turn, and Cordova, all glistening in the morning dew, raises
