Puerta del Bautismo, or San Juan, is embellished with sculptures by Pedro Millan, which deserve careful inspection. The third doorway is the Puerta del Nacimiento, or San Miguel. This is also adorned by the sculpture of Pedro Millan. The upper part of the Cathedral viewed from this side is not of much beauty. It is modern, dating from 1827.

At the south side of the Cathedral is the Puerta de San Cristóbal, or de la Lonja, added by Casanova in 1887. As we make the circuit of the edifice, we shall see the turrets and numerous pinnacles of the roof. The effect is impressive and bewildering. Centuries of labour are here represented in noble form and beauty of outline. The flying buttresses are especially graceful and the great dome is majestic in its proportions. Cean Bermudez compares the Cathedral with 'a high-pooped and beflagged ship, rising over the sea with harmonious grouping of sails, pennons and banners.'

In the east façade are the Puerta de los Campanillas and the Puerta de los Palos. These doors are magnificently decorated with sculptures by Lope Marin, executed in the year 1548. There are three entrances on the north side. That leading from the Court of the Oranges is named the Puerta del Lagarto, from the stuffed crocodile which hangs from the ceiling. The Puerta de los Naranjas is in the centre of the court. This door is kept closed except on days of festival. The third door is the unfinished one bearing the name of the Puerta del Sagrario.

As we survey this immense monument of the Christian faith, we are led to muse upon the power of the early Catholic Church in Spain. It was no half-hearted belief that urged men of all ranks of society to deny themselves in contributing to the huge outlay that went to the planning, erection and decoration of this mighty Cathedral.

The dictates of the Chapter ruled the councils of the State and the conferences of kings and courtiers. When the throne lost power, the bishop's chair gained in authority. In the reign of Philip III. the Cathedral of Seville had no less than one hundred clergy on its staff. Dunham, in his History of Spain, states that 'half a dozen could assuredly have been sufficient for the public offices of devotion.' But there was no question of restricting the number of ministers and confessors in these days of perfervid devotion. It was considered heretical to even speak of stinting the wealth that was freely poured into the coffers of the hierarchy. To this devotion and liberality we owe the great treasure-house of art beneath whose broad shadow we stand. The painters, sculptors and craftsmen were under the patronage of the Church; they could not have subsisted without such patronage. And in most cases they gave their services gladly, for their heart was in their labours, and devotion inspired them. Few desired any other kind of employment; the highest service was that of holy religion.

A great faith, such as the Romish, inspires its devotees to the building of resplendent temples. The Christians would not merely imitate the Moors in the beauty and richness of their churches. They pledged themselves to excel the magnificence of the mezquitas, and to show mankind that God is honoured most devoutly by those who spare neither wealth nor industry in the setting up of fanes dedicated to His worship. We cannot grasp the Spanish character until we realise that its keynote in the past was profound piety and deep loyalty towards the Church and the Crown. The cathedrals of Spain are testimony to this devotion to the Christian creed. They are solemn historic memorials of faith.

Worshippers in the Seville Cathedral are reverential; there is no apparent insincerity in their responses and genuflexions. In Italy and France there is a less manifest reverence during divine services. But the Spanish temperament has remained religious through all the stress of heretical days and the changing fortunes of its dynasties. It is not only the women who are devout, for many men are present at the celebrations in the cathedrals and churches. Very imposing are these Spanish services in the half-light of the capillas:

'Dim burn the lamps like lights on vaporous seas;
Drowsed are the voices of droned litanies;
Blurred as in dreams the face of priest and friar.'