"I don't know him."
"He was a blacksmith until he was twenty years old, when he fell in love with the fair daughter of a painter. The story goes that the father would not permit his daughter to marry any man that was not an artist, and the blacksmith abandoned his anvil for the easel. He had a genius for art, and soon painted better than his masters. He won his bride, and achieved a great reputation in his new art. The picture of The Misers, which you saw at Windsor Castle, was executed by him."
They bought a couple of tickets and were admitted to the church. The interior was grand and imposing; but the chief attraction was the pictures, which were now unveiled, and a small audience was present examining them. Several artists were making copies of them. In the south transept hangs Reubens's masterpiece, The Descent from the Cross.
Paul did not pretend to be a connoisseur in paintings, and could neither understand nor appreciate the fine writing he read about them in books, or the "hifalutin" which affected men bestowed upon them; but in the presence of the grand old painting, he was awed and silenced. It produced a deep impression upon his mind and heart, and for the first time in his life he realized the sublime in art. The figure of The Dead Christ seemed to be real, so painfully natural were the hanging head of the Savior, and the relaxed muscles of the body. The young student gazed long and earnestly at the picture, studying it as a whole and in detail.
It is said that Rubens paid this picture as the price of the land on which he erected his house in Antwerp. In the north transept of the Cathedral hangs its companion piece, The Elevation of the Cross; but its reputation is far inferior to his masterpiece, grand as it is.
Paul walked about the church, and examined other pictures and works of art; and then, after paying the keeper of the tower a franc, they commenced the long ascent to the spire and chimes.
"These churches and these pictures are certainly very fine," said Paul, as they stopped at a window to rest. "We don't have them in our country. There isn't a church there that will compare with any of these cathedrals, to say nothing of the celebrated pictures, such as we have just seen."
"That's very true; and I am thankful that our people make a better use of their money. Here in Belgium, as in most countries of Europe, poverty is the curse of the people. They do not receive the reward of their labor. The government and the church take the lion's share of their earnings, and thus keep them down. This Cathedral was commenced in 1352, and finished in 1411, though another spire was to have been built. Nearly sixty years were employed in its erection, and probably it cost millions of dollars. Of course the people had to pay for it. The greater portion of the expense of it lies dormant here, it being merely an ornamental structure. It gratifies people's tastes, it is true; but God could be acceptably worshipped in a less costly edifice. If the capital locked up in this church had been invested in schools, colleges, and other educational institutions, it would be a blessing to the country. What is paid in Europe to build these grand structures for worship, and to support the trappings of royalty, is in our own country appropriated to public schools; and the nation reaps the benefit of them every year of its existence."
"That's so," replied Paul, emphatically; "and when any foreigner says anything to me again about our want of costly cathedrals, I shall call his attention to our schools."
"That's right; you are an American to the core," laughed the doctor.