And night was closing round.’—Marmion.
The Beatenberg, situated on the northern side of the lake of Thun, is named after a celebrated cave in which St. Beatus, originally a British noble, who had come to preach the Gospel to the wild men of the district, dwelt for many years, and died at the advanced age of ninety. His relics remaining there, his fête-day attracted such crowds of pilgrims that reforming Berne sent two deputies in 1528 to carry off the saint’s skull and bury it between the lakes of Thun and Brienz; but still the pilgrimages continued, and at length, in 1566, the Protestant zeal of Berne went to the expense of a wall, and thus effectually shut out the pilgrims, who, in more modern times, have been profitably replaced by crowds of tourists.
Both in the heathen and the Christian world, grottoes, particularly such as had been hallowed by the lives of sainted anchorites, have frequently been consecrated to divine service; and to render them still more worthy of their destination, the rude excavations of nature have not seldom been enlarged and beautified with all the resources of art.
Among these subterranean places of worship, those of India are deservedly renowned for their colossal size, and for the vast labour bestowed upon the sculptures with which they are adorned. A description of the famous rock-temples of Kanara, in the island of Salsette, near Bombay, will give the reader some idea of their magnificence.
The way leads over a narrow mountain-path, through a jungle so dense that the traveller is obliged to quit his palanquin, and to ascend on foot the steep acclivity, from which, at some distance from the summit, the large temple overlooks the country. This colossal work is hewn out of the solid rock, ninety feet long and thirty-eight feet broad, with a corresponding height, and forms an oblong square with a vaulted roof. Two colossal rows of columns divide the hall into three naves or avenues, and give it the form of an ancient basilica.
As the Temple of Kanara served the Portuguese for some time as a church, during their occupation of the small archipelago of Bombay, the heathen sculptures which decorated the interior have naturally been mostly destroyed. This is the more to be regretted as the well-preserved and masterly-executed capitals of the mighty columns justify the belief that their artistic merit must have been worthy of the grand dimensions of the hall. The beautiful portico, however, is still richly decorated. On each side a recess contains a colossal, well-executed statue, and long inscriptions in unknown characters are carved on the square pillars of the entrance. The charms of a mysterious past thus add to the interest of this beautiful monument, the work of an astonishing patience and perseverance. The outer face of the portico, as well as the vestibule extending before it, twenty-eight feet deep, have been considerably injured by the ravages of time: many stones have started from their joints, and a multitude of creeping plants cling to the mouldering statues. Thus the efforts of man to rear eternal monuments are vain; they must necessarily yield to the living powers of nature.
‘The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded,