[Footnote 109: The Rev. Père Félix, the famous Paris preacher, in one of his Notre Dame conferences, speaking of asceticism of this sort, says: "Les paiens avaient épuisé la volupté: les chrétiens ont épuisé les souffrances. De ce creuset de la douleur l'homme nouveau a sorti, et c'est un homme plus grand que l'homme ancien. Ah! je le sais, la pénitence corporelle, le jeûne, l'abstinence, la discipline, la flagelation, prètent à rire à des penseurs de ce temps, qui se croieat trop sages pour pratiquer de telles folies. Ils out plus d'égurd pour la chair, plus de respect surtoui pour le corps, et ils disent en souriant à l'austérité chrétienne: 'Ascétisme! Moyen àge! Fanatisme! Démence!' La vérité est, que chátier volontairement son corps pour venger la dignité de l'homme outragés par les révoltes, est une sainte et sublime chose. La vérité est que pour accorder à son corps le plaiair, il suffit d'ètre lâche, et que pour infliger à son corps la douleur volontaire dans un but de restauration morale, il faut ètre courageux, il faut ètre veaiment grand. La vérité est enfin que cette race de mortifiés, mieux que tout autre, maintient à sa vraie hauteur le niveau de l'humanité, et tient dans sa main intrépide, avec le fouet dont elle se frappe ell-même, le drapeau du progrès. Le chemin du progrès, comme ceiul du Calvaire, est un chemin douloureax. Le drapeau de l'austérité chrétienne triomphera une fois de plus dans le monde du seusualisme paien de nos joura.">[
Then one of the party went to see the Carmelite convent of St. Theresa; not one of the saint's own foundation, but one built soon after her death. It contains twenty-four nuns, the cheeriest and merriest of women, proving how little external circumstances contribute to personal cheerfulness.
The German gentleman who had so kindly served as escort to our travellers during their stay at Cordova dined with them in the evening, and gave them several very interesting details of the place and people. The next morning mass had been promised them at five, but it was six before the priest made his appearance in the fine old Jesuit church, now bereft of its pastors and frequent services; and it was only thanks to the unpunctuality of the Spanish railways that the train which was to convey our party to Malaga was reached in time.
Passing through a very fine gorge of the Sierra Nevada, with magnificent Alpine scenery, the train suddenly stopped: the guard came to the carriages, and civilly suggested to the passengers that the government could not answer for the safety of the tunnels, and, therefore, had provided carriages and mules to take them round; or else, if they preferred it, that they might walk, as there would be plenty of time. This sounded ludicrous enough to English ears, but, after all, they thought it more prudent to comply than to run any risk, and accordingly bundled out with their bags and manifold packages. On the recurrence of a similar warning, however, a little later, they voted that they would remain and take their chance; and nothing disastrous occurred. At the station they were met by the kind and obliging English consul, who had ordered rooms for them at the hotel called the "Alameda," pleasantly situated on the promenade, and who had done everything in his power to insure their comfort. The first days of their arrival were spent in settling themselves in their new quarters, which required a good deal of preliminary cleaning, and in seeing the so-called "lions" of the place. These are soon visited. In truth, except for climate, Malaga is as dull and uninteresting a place as can be well imagined. There is a cathedral, originally a mosque, but now converted into an ugly Corinthian pile with two towers. Only one fine old Gothic door remains, with curious "azulejos." The rest, both inside and out, is modern, heavy, and in bad taste. The high altar, however, is by Alonso Caño; and there is some fine wood-carving of the sixteenth century in the choir and on the screen, commemorating different scenes in the life of St. Turibius, archbishop of Lima, whose apostolic labors among the Indians were crowned with such wonderful success. There are one or two good pictures and monuments, especially the recumbent figure of a bishop, in bronze, of the fifteenth century. In the sacristy is a valuable relic of St. Sebastian, and some fine silver vases for the holy oils; but everything else was plundered by the French. Afterward our travellers went, with an order from the governor, to see the castle and Moorish fortress overlooking the town, built in 1279. Passing under a fine Moorish horse-shoe arched gateway, they scrambled up to the keep, from whence there is a magnificent view over sea and land. It is now used as a military prison, and about twenty-six men were confined there. The officers were extremely civil, and showed them everything. The men's barracks seemed clean and comfortable, and their rations good; their arms and knapsacks were, however, of the most old-fashioned kind. That day a detachment of troops were starting for Morocco, whose embarkation in the steamers below was eagerly watched by the garrison.
But if Malaga be dull in the way of sights, it is very pleasant from the kind and sociable character of its inhabitants. Nowhere will the stranger find more genuine kindness, hospitality, or courtesy. Their houses, their villas, their horses, their flowers, their time, all are placed, not figuratively, but really, "á vuestra disposicion." Some of the villas in the neighborhood are lovely, especially those of Madame de H——, the Marquise L——, etc. Here one finds all kinds of tropical vegetation: the date palm, the banana, the plantain and India-rubber trees, sugar, cotton, and other oriental products, all grow luxuriantly; while the beds are filled with masses of violets, tulips, roses, arums, scarlet hybiscus, and geraniums; and beautiful jessamine, scarlet passion-flowers, and other creepers, trail over every wall.
But the chief interest to the winter resident at Malaga will be derived from its charitable institutions. The French sisters of charity of St. Vincent de Paul have the care of three large establishments here. One—an industrial school for the children and orphans connected with a neighboring factory—is a marvel of beauty, order, and good management. The girls are taught every kind of industrial work; a Belgian has been imported to give them instruction in making Valenciennes lace, and their needlework is the most beautiful to be seen out of Paris. Any profit arising from their work is sold, and kept for their "dot" when they marry or leave the establishment. Attached to this school is also a little home for widows, incurables, and sick, equally tended by the sisters. This admirable institution is the offspring of individual charity and of a life wrecked—according to human parlance—but which has taken heart again for the sake of the widow and the orphan, the sorrowful and the suffering. Her name is a household word in Malaga to the sad and the miserable; and in order to carry out her magnificent charities (for she has also an industrial school for boys in the country), she has given up her luxurious home, and lives in a small lodging up three pair of stairs. She reminded one of St. Jerome's description of St. Melania, who, having lost her husband and two children in one day, casting herself at the foot of the cross, exclaimed: "I see, my God! that thou requirest of me my whole heart and love, which was too much fixed on my husband and children. With joy I resign all to thee." The sight of her wonderful cheerfulness and courage, after sorrows so unparalleled, must strengthen every one to follow in her steps, and strive to learn, in self-abnegation, her secret of true happiness. The French sisters have likewise the charge of the great hospital of St. Juan de Dios, containing between 400 and 500 patients, now about to be removed to a new and more commodious building; and also of a large day and infant school near the river, with a "salle d'asile," containing upward of 500 children, who are daily fed with soup and bread. They also visit the poor and sick in their homes, and everywhere their steps are hailed with thankfulness and joy.
The "Little Sisters of the Poor" have likewise established themselves in Malaga, and have a large house, containing seventy old and incurable people, which is very well supplied by the richer inhabitants. The nuns of the "Assumption" have lately started a "pension" for the daughters of the upper classes, which was immensely wanted (education being at a very low ebb in Spain), and which has been most joyfully hailed by the Malaga ladies for their children. The superior, a charming person, is an English woman; and the frequent benediction services in their beautiful little chapel were a great boon to some of our party. They paid a visit also to the archbishop, a kind and venerable old man, with the most benevolent smile and aspect, and who is really looked upon as the father of his people. At a grand Te Deum service, given in the church of S. Pietro dei Martiri, one of the most interesting churches in Malaga, as a thanksgiving for the preservation of the city from cholera, he officiated pontifically, which his great age generally prevents, and gave the benediction with mitre and crosier to the devout and kneeling multitude.
There is a very touching "Via Crucis" service performed every Friday in Malaga, up to a chapel on the top of a high mountain overlooking the whole town and bay. The peasants chaunt the most plaintive and beautiful hymns, the words of which they "improviser" on the way, both up and down. It begins at a very beautiful church and convent called Notre Dame des Victoires, now converted into a military hospital, nursed by the Spanish sisters of charity. The family of the Alcazars is buried in the crypt of this church, and beautiful palms grow in the convent garden. In the old refectory are some fine azulejos tiles and some good specimens of Raphael ware.