The record-union., 1896-09-07
TEE MONTH OF AUGUST IN SPAIN.

~ oaASAc~sSA - l1l6 SpdUlSn Oh EllullO
CASTELAR, by S. H. Gerrish for the
Record -Union.")
August should be called the ripe
ness of the year. If we compare Au-
gust with April, our hearts are heavy
with sadness, as we reflect that the
dew-crowned flowers Of yesterday are
consuming to-day in the ardor OF
the cancular. In fact, April and Au-
gust show well-marked signs OF con-
trast- April is as the dawn OF the
oeauttul season, and August is as the
dawn OF the season of sorrow; Apru as
the light, as the daybreak, as the bud
ding or universal life, and August as the
evening, as the nightfall, as these hours
OF melancholy that inspires US daily
with its shadows, this sorrowful, and at
the same time consolatory idea, the con-
ceptlon Of death. Notwithstanding
August Is not Of itself melancholy; 1t Is
melancholy for the months that are ap-
preaching, as the perfection OF LIE is
not sorrowful In itself; it is sad Tor the
old age that is advancing.
When we view the fields in the month
Of August we exclain1, in the language
of the Christian passion, "Consumatum
est" All Is consumed. No longer buds
the little herbs in the meadow. No
longer ohirps the young bird in the nest
on the roof of the cabin. Universal love
has given it's fruits and poetry has
folded its wings: the birds sail through
the air dressed In their resistant plum
age ready for their emigrations; and
the autumnal harvests present to the
sight reality dispelling the illusions
and hopes Contemplate with me the
country, the gummy almond open. the
transparent grape among the vine
leaves, and the pomegranate appears
like one Of those of golden balls that
the Emperors of the Middle Ages wore
ostentatiously in their crowns. The fig
filled with honey hangs black on the
luxuriant fig tree, the soil is the color
of straw and truly parched, the via
lactea burns with more lively splendors,
so much SO, that the country people give
it the name of the harvested fruits and
of the feasts celebrated in the fecund
month Of August.
The month Of August! What month
Of heat! How the ground opens! How
the leaves of the trees begin already to
take on, if\not the tone, the almost
metallic fiber that has to precede its
fall and death. The locust sings in the
olive and the stubble during these hours
of the siesta which invites u to sleep.
The fields appear as II scorched by
strange heat. The pores are open, the
nerves are weak, the blood boils and
we are wet with exudation. Nothing
is more common than to curse the heat
in the affiiction produced by the can
icular, which Is nearly asphyxia. But
the Limitation Of our nature Is this: we
condemn the same thing that gives us
life, and when we are prone to deny it
we deny our own living. The heat is
life; heat Is the movement: the heat Is
the universal force. Heat should be
called the electric spark that opens the
miasmas of the atmosphere, warns the
blood that circles In our veins, warns
the movements of the muscles and the
mysterious impulse to the nerves. Heat
is the serenade that gives the little bird
to it's lover in the forest and the honey
hat was distilled in his divine caliz Of
rosemary and thyme. Heat is the feoun-
dation Of the seed and the ripeness Of
The fruit: warmth from the ether in
which the stars battle, giving anima-
ton by virtue Of which the animalcules
are perpetuated. Heat Is the universal
soul of all the beings that dilate in
space. Believe 1t, preferable it is to
glow and consume in the flames Of this
heat than to remain inert and rigid In
seas of ioe. / cannot dislike the heat,
for / do not wish to abhor life. A son
Of the south, the warmth is present to
my eyes in the redeeming flowers that
the oleander displays at the borders of
the WATERFALL; In the white orange bios
SONS that intoxicate with its aromas
in the vibrating crown of the palm tree
that has heard the word Of God in the
desert; in the wreaths Of jessamine in
the resplendent clouds In the west; In
the marvellous tones and In the warm
color Of the pictures I have seen from
Seville to Rome, and from Florence to
Venice. No. ! Will never deny the heat
that warns and WHITES me. 1 never
will detest the month of August.
But all has it's true and necessary
compensation in this world. The heat
of dogdays encourages bathing IN the
sea We compassionate those to whom
Is unknown the emotions and ideas
that the sea awakens in the heart and
the intelligence. The Celestial super
fee which is endowed with such life is
Redeemed and reverberates, disturbing
1ts waters, and the foam makes fantas-
tic figures over the boiling waves, the
moisture and freshness of it's invigorat-
ing breezes, the glistening sands with
shells, and seaweed that Is in it's en-
brace the sublime murmur Of It's many
very mysterious voices, the reflection
of the stars In It's tremulous waters
the sporting of the dolphins that grace
fully leap and play among the flocks
Of white birds that Craze them with
their wings. The light of the moon
whose rays describe lakes and rivers
Of FURNISHED silver. the mysterious
phospherescence that leaves ribbons o1
light on the oars. This immensity, the
Infinite, that they see-they touch one
to the depths OF his soul. Ha, at last
the sea has calmed our pains, satisfied
our desires, softened and fortified with
its Inspirations the mind, never di-
vorced from provident nature There
is no exercise SO healthful for all tenn
peraments as bathing in the sea- The
body, freed from clothing, is submerged
in life, the light gives it polish, the all
Is pure, the heat animates it, the water
strengthens and cleanses 1t. With
what agility one may float and swim
over the waves like fish that is sport
ing in its depths. They feel the exalted
life Of the Syren and the Triton thai
the ancients described in an immorta
manner as they claSsed them in theil
personifications Of their mythology
Tho months the yearSi Thus WI