We went to see the church. It is beautiful and very rich, with a magnificent high altar and a choir worthy to stand beside those in the cathedrals of Burgos and Toledo, but, like everything out of place, it moves one to anger rather than admiration. Without this church the appearance of the mosque would be much improved. Charles V., who himself gave the chapter permission to build it, repented when he saw the Mohammedan temple for the first time. Besides the church there is a sort of Moorish chapel in a good state of preservation, rich in mosaics not less varied and splendid than those of the Maksura, and where it is said the ministers of the faith used to assemble to discuss the book of the Prophet.
Such is the mosque to-day. But what must it have been in the time of the Arabs! It was not entirely enclosed by a wall, but open, so that one could see the garden from every side, and from the garden one could look to the very end of the long naves, and the fragrance of orange-blossoms and flowers was wafted even to the vaulted roofs of the Maksura. The columns, which now number less than a thousand, were then fourteen hundred in number; the ceiling was of cedar-wood and larch, carved and enamelled with exquisite workmanship; the walls were lined with marble; the light of eight hundred lamps filled with fragrant oil made the crystals in the mosaic-work flash like pearls, and produced on the pavement, the arches, and the walls a marvellous play of color and reflection. "A sea of splendors," sang a poet, filled the mysterious enclosure, and the warm air was laden with perfume and harmony, and the thoughts of the faithful wandered and were lost in the labyrinth of columns gleaming like lances in the sun.
Frederick Schrack, the author of a good work on the Poetry and Art of the Moors in Spain and Sicily, gives a description of the mosque on a day of solemn festival, which forms a very lively image of the Mohammedan religion and completes the picture of the monument.
On both sides of the almimbar, or pulpit, wave two banners, to signify that Islam has triumphed over Judaism and Christianity and that the Koran has conquered both the Old and the New Testament. The almnedani ascend to the gallery of the high minaret and intone the salam, or salutation, to the Prophet. Then the aisles of the mosque are filled with believers, who with white vestments and in festal attire come together to worship. In a few moments, throughout the length and breadth of the edifice, one sees only kneeling people. The caliph enters by the secret way which leads from the Alcazar to the temple, and seats himself in his elevated station. A reader of the Koran reads a sura from the low desk of the pulpit.
The voice of the muezzin sounds again, calling men to mid-day prayer. All the faithful rise and murmur their prayers, bowing as they do so. An attendant of the mosque opens the doors of the pulpit and seizes a sword, and, holding it, he turns toward Mecca, admonishing the people to worship Mohammed, while the mubaliges are chanting his praises from the gallery. Then the preacher mounts the pulpit, taking from the hand of the servant the sword, which calls to mind and symbolizes the subjection of Spain to the power of Islam. It is the day when the Djihad, or the holy war, must be proclaimed, the call for all able-bodied men to go to war and descend into the battlefield against the Christians. The multitude listens with silent devotion to the sermon, woven from texts of the Koran, which begins in this wise:
"Praise be to Allah, who has increased the glory of Islam, thanks to the sword of the champion of the faith, who in his holy book has promised succor and victory to the believer.
"Allah scatters his benefits over the world.
"If he did not put it in the hearts of men to take up arms against their fellows, the world would be lost.
"Allah has ordained to fight against the people until they know that there is but one God.
"The torch of war will not be extinguished until the end of the world.