In The Midst Of Them Stands
Huss, Habited In A Simple Dark Robe; His Sharpened Features, And The
Yellow, Corpse-Like Pallor Of His Face, Tell Of Prison And Of
Suffering.
He is defending himself; and there is a trembling
earnestness in the manner with which his hand grasps the Bible.
With a
passionate agony he seems to say, "Am I not right? does not this word
say it? and is it not the word of God?"
So have I read the moral of this noble picture, and in it I felt that
I had seen an example of that true mission of art which will manifest
itself more and more in this world as Christ's kingdom comes; art
which is not a mere juggler of colors, a gymnastic display of effects,
but a solemn, inspiring poetry, teaching us to live and die for that
which it noblest and truest. I think this picture much superior to its
companion, the Martyrdom of Huss, which I had already seen in America.
JOURNAL - (CONTINUED.)
Wednesday, August 3. Frankfort to Cologne. Hurrah for the Rhine! At
eleven we left the princely palace, calling itself Hotel de Russie,
whose halls are walled with marble, and adorned with antique statues
of immense value. Lo, as we were just getting into our carriage, the
lost parcel! basket, shawl, cloak, and all! We tore along to the
station; rode pleasantly over to Mayenz; made our way on board a
steamer loaded down with passengers; established ourselves finally in
the centre of all things on five stools, and deposited our loose
change of baggage in the cabin.
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